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twirlyleafs · 2 months

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”Start of the season-drama”

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: angst, assumed cheating

~~~~

“I wish you could come with me.” You looked over at your boyfriend next to you by the kitchen counter. He didn’t meet your gaze, face contoured in concentration as he formed the ground beef into patties.

“I know baby.” You agreed, reaching for a bowl to put the cut cucumber in. Max grabbed it for you.

“Are you sure you can’t come with? Bahrain is nice.” He softly bumped his arm against yours, offering a playful smile. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I would love to, you know that. But I have my thesis to write.”

“You can do that on the road.” He tried, but you both knew the answer. This conversation had been on repeat for the last few months and every time it ended with Max, somewhat disappointed, agreeing that it would be best if you stayed home. You weren’t surprised he tried one last time tonight.

“Even if I could Maxie, I still have to work and I can’t do that from Bahrain.” Even before he spoke up you knew what his next argument would be and if anything got under your skin, it was this.

“You don’t need to work though. You have me.” The way he said it so casually, like he always did, had your stomach twisting. You hated that he saw it like that, and no matter how many times you talked about it Max didn’t seem to understand your point of view. You clenched your jaw, physically biting your tongue not to say anything back. Instead you concentrated back on the work on the cutting board, brows slightly furrowed. Things were quiet for a few moments, Max being busy with the meat in the frying pan, and you had almost blocked him out completely, deep in your own thoughts, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. Your back was softly pulled flush against his chest and a second later he nudged the side of your head with his nose.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, pressing a few kisses against your cheek and down your shoulder. “Of course you have things to do here, I get that. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help but smile, the frown melting of your face in a second. How could you ever stay annoyed at him when he was this cuddly and cute? You placed the knife down, turning around in his rather tight grip to face him. Max looked down at you, tilting his head slightly as to ask if he was forgiven. You just reached up to grab his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.

“I’m going to miss you too.” You said when the two of you finally pulled apart. “But it’s just two weeks, right?”

“Hmm.” Max nodded, fingers pressing into the skin just above your hips. “Then I’ll come straight back home and I won’t leave your side for at least a few days.” You laughed at that, snaking your arms around his torso and leaning your head against his chest. Max pulled you even closer, a deep breath leaving his lips. You were going to miss him, but two weeks went fast and you told yourself that he’d be back, preferably with two wins under his belt, before you knew it.

The first race had been amazing. You had watched from home with some of your friends, absolutely ecstatic and somewhat tipsy as your boyfriend passed the finish line in first place what felt like hours ahead of the rest. When he called you after the win you had literally screamed into the phone how proud you were of him and hearing him laugh loudly on the other end had you smiling the whole night.

That was four days ago. You had been busy, work was more chaotic than normal and your limited freetime was spent in the library working on your thesis. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had missed a few of Maxs phone calls and when you’d called him back he had been busy instead. You texted a lot, but it had been a few days since you last heard his voice and you were starting to miss it.

Getting back late from the library, not at all happy with the work you had done, all you wanted to do was to call Max and have him tell you about his day. You knew he had been at the annual banquet in Jeddah last night, which he hated, and you were excited to hear all the gossip. You sunk down in the couch, making yourself comfortable as you searched up the results of the first practice round. You always wanted to know how things were going for Max before you spoke to him, partly to show him that you cared and partly because you wanted to know what mood he might be in. You smiled to yourself, pleased, when you saw him at the top of the rankings. Absentminded you begun to scroll down among the tweets, rolling your eyes at the people hating on Max and grinning proudly at all the people joking about how this season would just be win after win after win for him. Suddenly you stopped, a tweet written all in caps catching your eye.

MAX VERSTAPPEN LOOKING DAPPER WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE! DID HE LEAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND AT HOME?

You raised your eyebrows, not being able to stop yourself from clicking on the photos. Surely it was going to be something dumb, you were used to the rumors surrounding your boyfriend and you had simply learned to just tune them out. Scrolling through the pictures now, however, you could feel your stomach drop. It was blurry, but it was clearly Max. The photos were taken from far away but you saw him, dressed handsomely in a suit and bowtie, with his arms tightly wrapped around a tall blonde. Her back was turned against the camera so you couldn’t make out her face, but you didn’t recognize the body at all. The two of them seemed to be alone, standing outside what looked like the building where the banquet was held. In one picture Max was shown grabbing her cheeks, staring down at her. You squinted, as if that would help you distinguish his expression, but you couldn’t quite tell what was happening. You couldn’t deny that it sure looked like he was about to kiss her. Quickly locking your phone you dropped it in your lap, staring down at the black screen with wide eyes. That wasn’t just some rumor, something someone had claimed to see or made up. Those were real photos, photos of Max being way too close for comfort with someone who clearly wasn’t you. You knew you should calm down, take a step back until you could talk to him and let him explain. Surely there was an explanation that didn’t involve him actually cheating on you? Right? Before you had time to spiral further your phone lit up again, the picture of Max sleeping, drooling, in a cab you had as his contact photo illuminating your screen. Acting on reflex you picked it up, sliding your finger across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Baby!” He seemed surprised that you answered but quickly regained himself. “Am I disturbing you? Are you at home?”

“I just got home.” You answered, frowning at the shortness of your own tone. You weren’t sure how to approach him, you weren’t even sure what to say. Were you mad? Sad?

“Good. Feels like we’ve just missed each other the past few days.” Max shuffled around on the other end and you assumed he was laying in bed. With a content sigh he spoke again and you could hear the smile on his face. “How are you my love?”

“I’m good.” You mumbled, clicking on the speaker icon and placing your phone down in your lap.

“How’s the thesis coming along? I assume you just came from the library?”

“Hmm, yeah I did. It’s fine.” Max obviously picked something up in your voice because he was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

“I hope you’re not spreading yourself too thin baby, you have to take a break sometimes.” His voice was full of concern and you don’t know if it was that or the pictures still haunting you but suddenly all you wanted was to be next to him. “Have you eaten today?”

“Actually,” you began, deciding what to say as the words were coming out of your mouth. “I was thinking about maybe coming to you? I think I can make it to the race if I leave tomorrow and-“ you stopped as you heard Max laugh on the other end, stomach twisting at the sound you usually loved. That was not the reaction you wanted.

“You know I miss you but that’s crazy baby.” He chuckled. You could feel the pressure take form behind your eyes. “You have things to do and I’ll be home in less than a week.”

“Yeah but I want to see you now. I thought you’d want that too.” You hated that his reaction, a very reasonable reaction at that, left you feeling so hurt.

“Of course I want to see you, but you shouldn’t come all the way here when we both know-“

“I shouldn’t?” His choice of words felt like a punch in the stomach and you frowned down at the phone. Max took a second too long to respond so you spoke again. “Why shouldn’t I? You don’t want me there?”

“What’s all this coming from?” The smile was far gone from his voice and now he just sounded bewildered. “You’re the one who opted to stay home because you had work to do.”

“Yeah well that was before I knew you’d cozy up with some other girl if I’m not there.”

You pressed your eyes shut, cringing at your own words the second they left your lips. You did not mean to put that out there like that. The line went quiet for a moment before Max broke the silence, voice as confused as it gets.

“What?”

You wanted to cry. “Nothing.”

“No, what did you say?”

“Nothing Max. Don’t worry about it.” You snapped, hating yourself more every time you opened your mouth. You really needed this conversation to be over, preferably before you started to cry. “I’m actually really tired, I think I’m-“

“No no no, you don’t just get to throw something like that at me and then hang up. What did you mean by that?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You were rambling. “Just forget it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You heard Max say your name before you hung up, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #verstappen x reader #Verstappen #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #Verstappen fanfic

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

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20/90 ☆ cl16

genre: humor, smut, angst, jealous!charles, post-break up, toxic ex trope, on & off

word count: 2k

After a painful break-up, you and Charles find yourselves taking part in what seems to be a never ending cycle. But there are rules that apply.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, wrap it before you tap it!

req!...two in a day?? you guys are spoiledddd

It takes about twenty days to break a habit, give or take. There’s proof; like the time you scolded yourself into not biting your nails anymore, horrified with the idea of getting engaged with monstrous hands. Or when you swore you would never drink again after Singapore.

But it takes ninety to make a permanent change.

It was a mutual decision, it was the most mature one, really, too. He was getting more and more busy; higher demand. You were drowning with homework, and senior thesis, it was long overdue. Yet it still broke your heart just the same. We can try again in the future, he tries to reason when you sob against his chest, linen shirt growing damp, but never once thinks about pulling away.

There is no future if there’s no you, you whimper. You feel stupid, desperate, and disgusting. It was not a lovely mix, but it was true. How could you move on when he was all you’ve ever wanted?

And there’s no present without you.

That was thirteen days ago, to be exact. Life was not better, but bearable to say the least. Often, you would find yourself stalking him on social media, unbeknownst that he did the same. You finally got your bachelor's you had worked your ass off for. He finally came to a renewal on his Ferrari contract. Life should be good.

Instead, you find yourself slumping against the cold wall, eyes squinting at the harsh sun. You’re well aware you’re panting like a beast, and sweat trickles down your face like a water faucet, but you couldn't care any less. Running was definitely not for the weak.

Abandonner si tôt?

Directing your attention to a deep voice, your heart stops before excitedly pumping against your chest. You can feel it in your ribcage. It should be a crime how handsome he still is, the more he gets day by day. W-what are you doing here?

His green eyes flicker against the rocks. Oh, you know.

Are you here for me? You want to foolishly ask, but bite down instead. I thought you were already in Bahrain.

Keeping tabs on me?

Flustered, you narrow your eyes, feigning a normal state. We dated for five years. I know your schedule by heart. His soft features register a wave of shock, nervous fingers gripping his phone.

It was good seeing you. And he leaves.

It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. It feels as if you’ve scraped your knee, hit your heart, got punched square in the face, and got run over by a school bus. Infinite times. And he seems A-OK. It's against your better judgment to follow after him, to yell at him out of spite for no apparent reason. But you were not the same girl he used to know.

“Oh fuck,” Charles groans as you ride him hastily, headboard banging against the wall as he keeps a steady hold on your hip, where a path of fresh bruises lie. He almost laughs if it weren’t for you rolling your hips tentatively. He quirks a brow when you shake your head and finish around his thick girth, leaving him no choice but to follow along with a low shudder.

“What have I done?” you whisper, delicate hands coming up to cover up your bare breasts. “Oh my God…”

“Ah,” he hums. “What a delightful thing to hear.”

Scurrying off his lap, you grab your wrinkled clothes, inching towards the exit as you wag your finger. “This –that– could never happen ever again. Capeesh?”

Charles tries his best to hide his hurt, braving through with a nonchalant smile. “Never again.”

You’re eight days in when he texts you. Something about needing someone to talk to. You might have broken up, but who said you couldn’t remain friendly acquaintances? He demands you meet at your spot, and it's a slap in the face but find yourself there nonetheless. He rambles on and on about his ongoing stress, and the neverending pressure. You knew it got bad, but you never thought this much.

“My PR manager is debating on whether I should date someone for the sake of increasing views. More attention.”

Your jaw goes slack. “You called me for this?” Rushing up to your full height, you brush off a gust of dirt, struggling to not roll into a coughing fit. “What makes you think this is something I want to hear?”

The Monegasque’s face pinches up like a clam. “I thought you should know.”

You scoff. “Right…” He watches as you scarily pace the open field with a blank expression. It saddens him how suddenly he doesn’t know how to read you. “You’re a fucking coward.”

And you leave.

He follows through with it because there’s really no other choice. She’s nice, but not kind like you. She’s pretty, but not breathtaking like you. You get the gist.

Her touch is unfamiliar and cold, forced. Abnormal. Her father is some kind of wealthy man who invests in prestigious hotels in his home country and is looking to make some more money as if what he doesn’t have is enough to serve him a lifetime. Sometimes, Charles feels for her. She probably wanted this the same amount as he did.

Behind a screen, you live through all of it. Your friend nicknamed you as Bella-From-Twilight-When-Edward-Goes-Away. Only Edward comes back. Charles never did. But it's now been seventeen days. And you curse the day you run out of your favorite ice cream.

“Why am I always bumping into you?” you huff when you spot the brunette. He rolls his eyes. I’m the famous one here. I don’t need to follow anyone, unlike you. Where his cold tone finally blossomed from –you don’t know– but you didn’t like it at all. Purposefully hitting your cart against his own, you stroll off. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Superstar.”

Comedically, you both find yourself glaring as you check out from adjacent sides, a silent competition on who can get out of there the fastest. You came here just for that, he mouths from afar as your burn bright pink, gaze flickering towards your strawberry ice cream. You flip him off, but giggle apologetically when the cashier assumes it’s aimed towards her.

Charles wants to chuckle in amusement but would rather eat his own foot than admit to that. Have a good day, you can hear his clerk tell him at the same time yours does too. Flinging your arm into the hoop on your tote bag, you run off as he races you with a full cart of groceries. There’s a curve you hit as you manage to squeeze through and smile back at your ex, somehow satisfied. Amidst skip, you feel a harsh push as you fling forward, falling onto your knees as a little boy winces, licks his lollipop, and walks away.

Blood trickles down your knees as you fiercely turn back to look at a regretful loser. “Is it really that deep?” you spit out, ears turning bright red from your reasonable anger. He tries to help you up but that only receives him a slap in the face. “Great. I look like I just got my period. Unbelievable.”

“You just hit me,” he speaks in disbelief.

“You just pushed me,” you retort pointing at your injury, flesh being creepily visible. “On purpose, I might add.”

The Monegasque scoffs, gently massaging his aching face, dark brows pointed at you like knives. “You’re one crazy fucking girl…”

“Thanks, I get that a lot.”

It's all a fateful haze, the way you end up in his car. You suppose it starts the moment he presses on helping you unload your groceries, as some sick apology. But it’s only my ice cream. But he sheepishly shrugs. Now blood paints his driver's seat as you sit on top of him, and occasional grunts overflow due to his red cheek. “I can’t have sex with you,” you mumble against his swollen lips, chest heaving as your tinted windows begin to fog up. It was still early, but you didn’t care.

“And I shouldn’t want to have sex with you, and yet.”

“Yeah,” you pant, kisses steaming up. “Okay then.”

Shame lingers on your drive back home, and grows even deeper when you realize your strawberry treat has melted.

You would never take yourself as a self-driven person; not like most people. It was only one of your many flaws, but in this very moment, bent over the kitchen counter, you promise to become one.

“I can’t keep going back to him,” you groan over the phone as Lily attentively listens to what she considers gossip, and you consider a mid-life crisis. “We broke up months ago, why do I keep doing this to myself?”

“Perhaps because two still care for one another.” And because you know you still love him, and he loves you, she wants to add but stops herself when you glare coldly.

“I am so over him, are you kidding? I’ve never been better. In fact, I’m going out tonight. First man I see boom! Fuck him. Just like that.” You click your fingers magically for emphasis.

Lily’s face drops as her eyes zigzag towards something behind her screen. Before she can try to talk you out of it, you hang up. She’s obviously joking, the Chinese girl stutters when Charles freezes, midway from hanging Alex a pair of joggers, since he had forgotten his own. The green-eyed boy forces a dark smile, tipping his head and heading out without a goodbye.

“I should probably warn her.”

You weren’t picking up–you weren’t going to. It was starting to hit you how stupid this all was and you did not need your friends erasing the last bits of determination you had within you. Beaming at a group of guys, you can’t help but flutter your eyes as they quietly fight over who gets to have the first move. Dibs, if you must. Swallowing the last bit of your awful drink, you start making your way over before a warm hand grips your wrist. “No. I’m not doing this again.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “And you’re not doing that either, we’re leaving.” It takes a lot of mental strength to not kick him in the shin and run off, but you can’t help but slap him once again as soon as he drags you out into the alleyway. A habit you’ve picked up, I see, he growls.

“Why are you still doing this?” you whimper, glassy eyes looking up in complete defeat. “You broke up with me. I agreed. We’re supposed to be moving on from one another. Why can’t you at least try to let me go?”

It’s a punch to the gut, the sound of your raw voice, broken and weak. He takes a clumsy step back, chest tightening from the tense situation he has wheezed himself into. “Believe me, I’m trying but I just can’t…”

Your nose is runny, mascara coats you like a baby racoon, cheekbones are splotchy as if you’ve just been hit, and you were still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Which is part of the reason why he can’t walk away from everything you've been through.

“Well you’re not going to try, but I am. For real this time.”

It’s been ninety-two days, a lot, but not enough at the same time. But there was a piece of you that knew you weren’t missing him as much. So, maybe–it was. Enough, you suppose. It still hurts a tiny bit sometimes, watching him pose with fake smiles, or maybe they’re genuine, you can’t really tell the difference anymore. The way his eyes learned to sparkle for her over time. Fake can become real, it appears. But you being yearnful didn’t mean you weren’t moving on for your own sake. This was good, a new start. The kind you now looked forward to.

And it only took ninety-two fucking days.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

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f1byjessie · 4 months

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part one.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 505,281 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!

view all 3,171 comments

mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡

↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡

user she's got the dream job omg

↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour

↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩

↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??

↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!

user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are

user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY

oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤

↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too

↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤

user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now

user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds

user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is

landonorris best photog right here folks

↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side

↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨

↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊

In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.

When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.

“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.

After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.

What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.

The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.

Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.

“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.

After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.

The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.

By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.

It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.

“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”

“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.

He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”

You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”

“But taking pictures of me does.”

“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”

He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.

Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.

“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”

He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”

“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”

“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”

He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”

“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.

The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.

Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.

You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.

“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”

You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”

He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”

“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”

“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”

“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”

You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.

The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.

The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.

“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.

He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”

“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 517,472 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

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user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???

user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔

↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?

user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there

↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr 😒😒😒

user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn

user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀

user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???

↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe

user she’s fucking ugly wtf

user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault

user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf

↳ user stfu she really isn’t

↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street

user these comments are not it…. 😬

↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism

↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date

user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job

↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger

user AINT NO WAYYYYYY

user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it

user ayo lando come get your girl

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette

━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Note

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #requested

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herdarkestnightelegance · 4 days

Text

"Careful, I Bite"

My First - Part 1/3

Pairing: Astarion/ AFAB!Tav (you)

Warnings/tags: 18+, virginity, vulnerability, sexual tension, mature conversations and flirting, vaginal masturbation, explicit sexual fantasies (PiV), Act 1 spoilers

Length: ~ 5.5k words (they just keep getting longer, don’t they?)

Summary: Unable to resist his charms, you grow close with your handome, vampiric travel companion. Very close. The thing is just ... you've never been with anyone before ...

A/N: It's happening! My first venture into 🌶️ territory! Please know: No PHD thesis ever had this much lively back and forth and discussion as this fic! Thank you @nyx-knox for being the GOAT of beta-readers on what is basically group-project at his point and for your constant support and reassurance 🩷

Taglist: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate , @littlelovelore, @onlyancunin @chaoticbardlady99 @ancuninfiles

:::::::

You have never felt this weird kind of nervousness before.

It’s not the kind of suspense you feel before entering a dungeon full of goblins. It’s not the kind of pressure you feel when the eyes of your companions turn to you, awaiting a decision. No. This is a different, unfamiliar kind of stimulation to your nerves. It’s warm, yet tingly, it’s at the back of your mind constantly, making you smile one moment, then shake your head the next trying to escape the feeling. You find it increasingly difficult to think of anything else, even now while you are sitting on a log, warming yourself on your camp’s little fire. This has been going on for a few days now. And it’s entirely Astarion’s fault.

Astarion. The charming, flirty and admirably witty Vampire you’ve found yourself increasingly drawn to more and more with each passing day.

If you’re being honest … you kinda hated him when you first met. Headbutting him in the face was less than what he deserved for putting a knife to your throat! But you quickly understood that he was simply being cautious, scared, just as you’ve all been.

Everyone had been on edge the entire time as you tackled a whole cascade of challenges on your ongoing quest to find a cure: stopping druid rituals, fighting hags and harpies, vanquishing a whole camp of goblins. But throughout all of those adventures, you had noticed Astarion slowly gravitating towards you, closer and closer. And you found that you, too, were gravitating towards him. Which scared the absolute shit out of you.

When you woke up with his handsome face so close to yours that one night, you almost jumped out of your skin. His cool body hovering over yours, his breath on your neck … it immediately sent your mind - and your body - into overdrive.

Honestly? When you learned he was a vampire and that he was simply trying to drink your blood, you were almost relieved. Or … were you disappointed? You couldn’t tell. Because what you thought was going on for a split second was that Astarion - strange, intriguing Astarion - was actually trying to kiss you. And you didn’t entirely hate that thought? Right on the contrary!

The thing was just that, well, you have never actually been kissed by anyone before.

While you were no stranger to pleasure, knowing full well how to take excellent care of yourself, you have never been in this position. With another person this close to you while you lay on your back. So many things raced through your mind when that admittedly devastatingly beautiful man knelt so close to you. You wanted to slide out from under him as quickly as you could. You wanted to slap him for not asking to kiss you first. And you also wanted him to pin you down on your bedroll and succeed in stealing that kiss from you. So badly.

That thought was pushed to the side, though, when he revealed his vampiric nature to you. For the first time since you met on that beach, you felt like you were glimpsing a bit of him, the real him beneath that debonair facade. And you liked that he was confiding in you specifically. Those ruby eyes pleading for your help, his urgent voice trying to explain his situation, and his disarming charm, asking if you could trust him just a little further. Even though you were angry that he didn’t ask before he tried biting you, you knew you would have said yes if he had. And then …

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

Your heart was racing a thousand beats an hour when you laid down back on your bedroll. You felt your cheeks flush, mixed with a tingling, cool nervous sensation on your skin. When Astarion leaned over you once more, one arm on each side of your head, you caught your breath. This felt so intimidating … so intimate. You felt exposed, excited, nervous, scared. And you wanted this. This was so unlike you. It was far more usual for you to be refusing the physical advances of others. But you didn’t want to refuse him. In fact, for the first time, you felt the exact opposite of your usual inclination. You wanted to allow him closer.

Astarion took up your entire field of vision, or at least it felt like all you could see was him. The way he held your gaze steadily made it impossible to look anywhere else. He had a soft, reassuring and thankful smile on his lips … and next thing you knew his fangs were piercing your skin.

It hurt. At least for a moment. Your mind was racing, trying to take all of this in, all these new sensations: The ice-cold feeling of his fangs inside you, his body on top of yours, his cool lips touching and sucking on your warm skin, his increasingly heavy breathing so close to your ear, the pain … and the pleasure.

When you felt him gently cupping the back of your head, you were about ready to actually kiss him. Feeling pressure building in your core, your legs began pressing together of their own volition, causing little jolts of lust to course through you as you felt a familiar heat rising between your thighs. You desperately wanted to wrap your arms around him, to sink your fingers into those beautiful white curls of his, give in to that delicious pain, wanting him to do more, to go further.

But instead you felt your head go woozy, snapping you out of your thoughts. No, this was too much. So you told him to stop, pushed him away gently yet firmly. You were panting, and so was he. He looked so radiant at that moment, so strong. It made you forget the pain in your neck, the way the world spun around you. He looked so happy, and you did that for him.

When Astarion turned around to leave, he stopped and thanked you, telling you he wouldn’t forget this gift you have given him. And you knew, neither would you. How in the Hells were you supposed to sleep now? After that? After you felt the weight of his body on yours, felt his soft lips on your skin, after being so close you smelled the slight perfume of … something herbal and citrusy? Gods!

You laid back down on your bedroll and for at least an hour you couldn’t sleep, your companions breathing calmly around you, unaware of what had happened. All you could think about was the image of Astarion, that little smile right before he bit into your neck, his hand caressing the back of your hair ever so slightly…

You let out a sharp breath, feeling the slickness between your thighs. Might as well ...

You unlaced the front of your trousers, looking around to your sleeping companions, who mercifully had either their backs turned or at least their heads facing away from you. You would just have to get this over with quickly. Biting your lips, you made yourself comfortable once more.

Practiced fingers slid below the fabric and to the folds between your legs, finding them already wet and ready for some much-needed attention. You closed your eyes and sighed as you began touching yourself, massaging your clit as you had done many times before. The thing that was new, though, was the image in your mind:

Ruby eyes piercing into yours with a desire so fierce it almost takes your breath away. You're lying naked next to the fire, a pale, equally naked, slender body between your open legs. And then the feeling of fangs penetrating your skin as Astarion’s cock penetrates you. A delighted smile flickered across your lips, both in your dream and in real life. “Look at you, my sweet Darling.” Astarion’s voice purrs into your ear, as he thrusts himself all the way into you, stretching you deliciously. “You are taking me so well.” Slowly he begins to roll his hips, knowing how to move just the way you want it, his thrusts quickly growing faster.

The pace of your own fingers grew faster alongside your fantasies, as you imagined what it would be like having him inside you, fucking you, filling you completely. A little whimper escaped your lips, it was hard to stay silent with your imagination running wild.

“Gods, you’re so tight, my love,” he says as he spreads your legs even further, exposing you, watching your juices run down the inside of your thighs, angling himself perfectly to be able to fuck you even deeper, harder, more. He wants you, just as you want him. It’s almost too much, your inexperienced body barely able to handle his expert movements. And you feel the familiar coil tightening inside you. “Astarion …” you whisper, desperately holding on to his soft white curls.

“Yes, my love?”, he asks, kissing the small wounds he’s made on your neck.

“Cum … cum inside me ... please,” you beg between his hard thrusts, as you feel yourself edging towards your climax. And just as the both of you come undone in unison, and you feel him unloading his thick seed inside of you, he bites down on your neck once more, causing you to moan out his name - and it’s music to the pale Elf’s pointy ears.

Unable to stop it, a little moan escaped you in the real world as well. Slapping your free hand over your mouth, you are pretty sure it really was his name that escaped your lips into the silent night around you. But the surprise at your own sound was swept away by the waves of your orgasm as it rolled through you, causing your hips to quiver a few times, before your breath began to calm, and you fell into relaxed bliss.

You pulled your hand free from your pants and wiped it on the grass next to your bedroll, feeling a lot more relaxed. Wouldn’t that be something, you thought as you lay down on your side. Actually getting closer to the mysterious vampire, getting to know the person you glimpsed a bit of today. Closing your eyes, you thought that, yes, you would really like that.

Oh no. You felt your stomach drop in surprise and your eyes shot open in realization. You wanted to get to know the real him? You wanted to get closer to him? You wanted to be more… intimate with him? It was then that it dawned on you… you were slowly but surely starting to fall for the disarming vampire.

Fuck.

:::::::

His blood was just starting to slow from his hunt, but his vampiric senses were still alert, sharper than usual. So Astarion’s pointed ears heard it before he even reached the camp. The rustling of the bedroll, the rapid breathing, the suppressed whimpers. Somebody was having a bit of fun.

Making sure to stay concealed by the darkness of the treeline, he looked towards the figures lying by the fire. Oh? Not wanting to disturb the vision before him, he stopped moving. Had anyone looked in his direction, they would have seen his eyes reflecting the soft light of the camp-fire like two tiny round mirrors. What do we have here? His ruby eyes locked onto Tav as they tried to keep their pleasured movement on the bedroll to a minimum. What a delicious sight that was.

Astarion had known Tav had gotten quite attached to him, most likely falling for his wit and charm - and obviously his looks - as most did. Otherwise, why would they have allowed him to drink from them? And it was amazing, drinking from them, too. Astarion licked his lips at the memory. Tasting the blood of a thinking being, tasting them. It had been … so intimate. Better than he had ever imagined. He usually only pretended to enjoy the closeness of other people. But not Tav. He couldn’t have picked a better person to be his first.

Frankly, he even enjoyed their company, such as it was. And he knew they enjoyed his company as well. But this? This was a display he hadn’t anticipated. At least not yet.

Shaking his head ever so slightly in disbelief, Astarion was almost impressed by the bold endeavor: Tav, pleasuring themselves out in the open by the campfire? Sure, everyone was asleep, but anyone could awaken any moment from their little moans and catch those fingers dancing amongst their folds. If Tav was this desperate to release their need for him after he’d fed from them earlier in the night, they must desperately want him. A scheming grin grew on his face as he realized… This could work.

He was sure the others in the camp would know about his condition by morning. And knowing full well that people don’t trust vampires - perhaps understandably - he needed to be sure Tav was on his side. Tav was their fearless leader and fierce protector. They may have unwillingly slipped into that role, but they had sway with and the trust of everyone in camp, including him if he was being honest. If Tav kept him under their wing… he wouldn’t get flocked or kicked out. He’d be the first one protected, heard out in every conversation, involved in every plan the group made, and therefore… powerful by association. Safe.

All it would take would be what he had done for 200 years already: some casual seduction and an offer for one night of mind-blowing ecstasy to lock himself into that kind of ideal position.

Tav’s breathing grew faster then, the smell of their arousal and pumping blood slowly beginning to fill Astarion’s head, breaking his concentration for a moment, his attention now fully on the show in front of him. It was then, as Tav climaxed, trying to suppress a moan, that Astarion heard it. Clear as day. Between the whimpering and exhalation: His name, cried from their lips.

And just like that… Astarion had laid out his nice, simple plan. Oh this would be easy.

:::::::

The next morning you could barely bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your - almost - innocent traveling companion, and you had thought of him for your dirty little fantasy. You knew this was going to drive you crazy! So you promised yourself you would stop this, trying to cushion the fall as you were definitely falling for him. But when Astarion asked you how you’ve been feeling after the bite, with his trademark smile and his charming words, your nice, simple plan fell apart instantly when you heard yourself offer your neck to him again for tonight. As he happily accepted, your heart leapt in your chest.

Things only progressed from there. Between your party’s adventures, the fighting, tending to each other's wounds, laughing with (and sometimes about) Gale, and watching Shadowheart and Lae’zel bickering with each other, you and Astarion … connected. As you began to share your stories, laugh more at each other’s quippy jokes, indulge in witty banter with every conversation that sparked between you two, you started to see more of that man that you had glimpsed that night he first bit you. Beneath the well-crafted, snarky, and charismatic facade was someone who had endured horrors you couldn’t even imagine. Beneath his undeniably stunning looks, you saw the whole picture - the flawed, broken, resilient, complex person that he was. You began caring for him so deeply, more and more each day. You were falling for him… oh, you were falling for him hard.

Many nights you spent taking care of the desire that Astarion had been fueling inside of you. It was almost embarrassing how much you were pining for him, each night in your bedroll by the fire or in your tent, where you so often wound up with shaky legs and wet fingers. You imagined his hands were the ones roaming over your body, knowing every sensitive spot, his fingers sliding inside you, curling just right, making you gasp and shiver with pleasure. And his voice in your ear, whispering all the filthy things he wants to do to you, will do to you. He was inside your head, and you truly began to yearn for him to be inside your body, too.

Oh, how your body reacted to him whenever he was close and Gods, you really hoped he could not sense it. When he chose to sit next to you by the fire, even though there was plenty of space elsewhere, you imagined his hand sliding around your neck to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss. When he would pick pieces of foliage - or goblin guts - from your hair or stand so very close to you while helping you into your armor, you imagined him pulling you behind the closest tree and taking you right there and then. And the fact that he was so openly, outrageously flirtatious with you, and only you, saying all the right things at the right time, didn’t help either. It drove you crazy with confusion, with adoration and with desire.

So when a celebration was in order after your party had succeeded in vanquishing the entirety of the goblin camp and its leaders, you found yourself sauntering over to Astarion’s tent. You were nervous, more so than ever, but there was a strange confidence roaring within you. With spirits so high, the blood still running hot from today’s victory, you felt this might be the night. You wanted it to be. And you wanted it to be with Astarion.

You were sipping from his wine bottle to calm your nerves, when he actually, finally, suggested that the two of you could make your own entertainment. It was like the surrounding music faded away, replaced by the sound of your blood pumping in your ears. The honeyed words from Astarion’s beautiful lips promised you things that made your knees weak.This was what you wanted, what you had been waiting for.

So … you agreed.

Part of you even appreciated that he made it clear where the both of you stood at all times. He told you that he liked you, that he came to enjoy the whole package, assured you that if you wanted to - and you did - the two of you could lose yourself in your own little piece of nowhere. But he never promised it would be a committed arrangement. And honestly, with the tadpole inside your head, the descent into the Underdark before you and with the whole party looking to you as their leader, you kind of appreciated that there were no strings attached.

When you found yourself walking through the trees and brush towards the clearing after everyone had gone to bed, you felt equal parts excited and nervous. Yes, you wanted to do this, you wanted for your first time to be with Astarion, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared as all Hells. From everything he’d told you, from the way he came on to you, there was no question as to how experienced he was and what he expected to happen tonight. “And I do mean sex, to be clear. We’ve waited long enough.” And that you had indeed. You’d waited long to find a man you felt this good with, this close and attracted to.

So when you stepped into the clearing and Astarion came out from behind the tree trunk bare chested in only his breeches, your mouth ran dry at the sight of him. Gods, he was the most beautiful person you have ever seen.

“There you are…”, he said, and your whole body trembled at the sultry sound of his voice. You could see it already - lying on the soft grass beneath him, under the stars, allowing him to kiss you, touch you, trusting him to take you places you’ve only ever been in your wildest fantasies. “I’ve been waiting…”, he continued. “...Waiting, since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

His voice was so deep and sensual - but suddenly the nervousness in the back of your mind began to overwhelm you. Had he? Had he really been waiting for you? Your already pounding heart began skipping a few beats at a time, fluttering at the thought. What if … you disappointed him? What if he left this clearing tonight feeling as though the wait hadn’t been worth it?

And just like that, you were not so sure about this anymore. Oh no.

You couldn’t do this, could you? Look at him! He’s beautiful! Were you beautiful enough for him? Why was he even looking into your direction with Shadowheart and Wyll around? You’re absolutely no match for them. And he clearly knows what he’s doing and what he’s expecting is likely far more than you can give. What in the Hells could you possibly offer him? What if he didn’t like being with a novice like you? What if he didn’t like what he saw when you lay naked in front of him? Gods, you wanted him! But how much fun and pleasure would you be able to realistically provide for him, really? After all, you had no idea what to do, you have never even kissed anyone before!

You looked up into those ruby eyes, looking for reassurance, for safety, and found them… painfully devoid of that spark you came to love. You froze. His beautiful words suddenly felt so flat, calculated, and practiced. You didn’t know if it was your sudden wave of nerves preventing you from going through with this, but you knew then at that moment… this wasn’t right. No, he didn’t truly want this.

“Hold on - I’m not sure about this,” you quickly said. That seemed to bring Astarion back to you - but not in the way you would have liked.

“Then what are you doing here?” Astarion’s surprising shift in demeanor caught you off guard. You took a step back, not expecting him to talk to you in that tone. His voice almost sounded condescending, indignant. Just like that, your walls that the vampire had managed to take down brick by brick over the past weeks began rising back up again. “I thought we had an … understanding.” You took another step back when Astarion’s whole posture changed, going from seductive to dismissive. As if, now that he couldn’t have you, he had no use for you anymore and by doing so he tapped straight into your biggest worry with pinpoint precision. You felt the impossible urge to explain, to salvage whatever tonight would have been.

“I-I know, I’m sorry …”, you stammered helplessly. “It’s just… Do you really want to do this?” Astarion tilted his head, his frown deepening.

“Now why would you think I didn’t, after all this?” He sounded irritated as he flung his arms wide, gesturing to nothing in particular.

“I don’t know. Maybe you feel like you have to do this? Like - as payback for me letting you drink from me? Because I promise, you don’t have to, I don’t need anything in return.”

Astarion crossed his arms and cocked his hip, sneering down at you.

“Listen, just say the word and we can call it a night.” You were desperately looking for the right words, only for Astarion to speak before you could say anything. “But if you want to back out, don’t use me as an excuse for it. You’ve wasted enough of my time already.”

His words felt like a slap in the face.

“I’m just not sure if I can give you what you are expecting, what you want.” Gods, you hated how desperate your voice sounded.

“But why? What exactly is your problem?”Astarion kept pushing and something inside you snapped.

“Because I’ve never DONE any of this before, alright?!”

The words exploded right out of you. The amount of emotions you were feeling at that moment was overwhelming: anger at him, disappointment in yourself, sadness about how this night suddenly took such a turn. You stared at him, breathing hard, your cheeks flushing. Neither of you spoke, Astarion only looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I… I am going back to camp,” you eventually said before finally forcing yourself to turn and leave.

Gods.

This had been a disaster. This was not how this should have gone! This should have been a night - your first night - of passion, exploration and fun with this Elf you truly cared for - and who now was most certainly angry and annoyed with you for ruining his night. Did you overthink it? Should you have just gone through with it? What if whatever you and Astarion had built over the course of these last few weeks was now shattered beyond repair? How could you have pushed him away in a moment that should have been so pleasurable, so intimate?

Getting sleep was not easy that night. And the next day, you and Astarion didn’t exchange a single word. You knew your companions noticed. They knew something was going on between the two of you - but they were kind enough to let the matter rest and not ask you about it as you packed up your belongings and headed towards the empty Goblin Camp to enter the Underdark. With all enemies already vanquished, the day was uneventful, which made the silence between you and the vampire seem even more deafening.

:::::::

How, how could he have missed that? Astarion couldn’t get that question out of his head.

It was the one question that had been whirling around in his head all day while the party had continued towards the Underdark, tensely ignoring the silence between him and Tav, who usually were bantering lightheartedly all the time.

Astarion watched them as they suggested setting up the camp for the night, the last night under the open sky for who knew how long.

How had he not picked up on Tav’s inexperience? He normally could smell a virgin from miles away! He knew the shy looks, the aversion to touch and his advances. But Tav? They threw him for such a loop! They gravitated towards him. And honestly … he liked that.

Besides, he figured virgins didn’t understand pleasure, didn’t know how to pleasure themselves. But Tav obviously did! He had heard them moan his name, seen proof of their knowledge of their own body with his own eye. But most importantly: proof of their desire for him.

Astarion’s mind whirled as he paced in his tent. Why did they have to tell him that?

It should have been so easy. It should have been a plain-and-simple, routine night of sex and pleasure for Tav. But now they had to throw him that little piece of information about themselves and… Astarion stopped pacing. He’d sworn off virgins long ago. That kind of innocence, it was too rare in the world. And after stealing it once from that sweet, darling boy… he’d sworn he’d never steal it from anyone else ever again. So he had learned to recognize and avoid virgins. His meager, unnoticeable act of disobedience to his former Master. It was the only thing he was proud of - if he could even call it that.

And, gods, the things he threw in Tav’s face? Shaming them for hesitating? What the fuck was he thinking? Their fierce leader, who stormed into a hag’s swamp with no hesitation, had hesitated before him. And instead of guiding them … he had scolded them, even humiliated them. Astarion felt ashamed of himself - something he had never wanted to feel again, now that he was free. But he felt it nonetheless. He had to apologize. It didn’t matter that he snapped at them in frustration because he saw his plan crumble, because he was scared, because he was … disappointed. If he was honest with himself.

Because he was. He was disappointed that Tav wanted to back out. The realization hit him with a force he did not see coming. Yes, seducing them was part of his plan. Yes, he had used all his favorite lines at them. And also … yes, he would have liked to sleep with them. A feeling he had not felt in … gods know how long.

Tav had been so nervous, their heart beating so quickly and loudly Astarion had heard it before they had stepped onto the clearing. They were opening up to him. Trusting him. And he? He would have taken that trust and used it. He truly was a monster. Tav didn’t deserve this. Despite how last night went … he cared for them. His eyebrows flew up as he realized just how true that thought was.

He cared for them.

Shit.

:::::::

You sit by the fire, pondering last night’s fiasco and today’s unpleasant silence. Seeing how you’ve got the second watch, you should probably be more vigilant, but your thoughts keep going back to last night. Which is probably why you don’t hear Astarion approach.

“Hello, my dear.”, he says in a low, almost careful tone, pulling you from your thoughts. You look up at him, not sure what to expect. “Do you mind if I sit?” He motions towards the log you are sitting on, toward the place beside you that he took many nights. Always choosing to be close to you instead of choosing any of the free logs. You shift to the side, making room for him. Again, feeling him so close to you, his arm brushing yours, it sets your whole body on high alert. You still want him - but you aren’t so sure he really wants you anymore, or if you’re ready to forget the way he spoke to you. But regardless of the horrid tone he had taken you still feel that guilt and shame for letting him down.

“I’m… sorry about last night.”, you eventually say, even though part of you wants to wait for him to apologize first. He turns to face you.

“Whatever are you sorry for?” he asks, a bit surprised.

“For backing out last night. I know we had an agreement and it’s not that I didn’t want to, you know? It’s just … ” with a deep sigh you turn your eyes towards him, and you are glad to see that spark in them once again, that spark that was missing last night. “I’ll be honest, ok? I like you. I like you a lot, and … I would have loved to have spent last night with you. But … I also know I don't have much to offer you, in terms of sex. We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately, so I understand you probably wanted to let off some steam … and I’m sorry I messed that up for you.” Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you turn your gaze back to the fire. You sit in silence for a moment before Astarion speaks.

“No. You have no reason to apologize for anything, my dear. I was quite out of line, inexcusably so. I should have relented the moment you had any doubt. I… apologize.” His words make you look towards him once more. Never had you heard Astarion apologize before, to anyone at camp, for that matter. “And I will do my best to refrain from feeding into this … thing between us, if it truly makes you uncomfortable. I will cease my flirtations, I promise.”

“What? No, please don’t?” you say quickly, unable to stop a shy smile from appearing on your face. “I … quite like your flirtations. And I wanted to spend the night with you, you know. I still do. But … let me ask you … ” The pale Elf patiently waits for you to find the right words. “Do you really want to sleep with me?” Astarion’s eyebrows go up, that surprised expression returning to his exquisite face.

“Darling,” Astarion’s tone is affectionate, reassuring, and hearing him call you this pet name with that sweet voice of his makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Are you really asking me that, after all I did? All I’ve said to you?” There is a slight edge to his voice now, though you can’t pinpoint what it is. He smiles at you with one corner of his mouth raised slightly and you half expect him to laugh, but Astarion falls uncharacteristically quiet, so you speak.

“Answer the question.” The amused smile on Astarion’s immaculate face disappears and gives way to a look of seriousness, of sincerity.

“Yes. I do,” he says in a low but firm voice. “Very much so.”

Relief floods your entire body, the tension you felt all day melting from you.

“Then … may we start over?”, you ask timidly with a smile on your face. Astarion answers with a gentle smile of his own.

“My dear. There is nothing I’d like more.”

#ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something #this is about astarion #astarion ancunin #wait is it gettin hot or …#astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction

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barcaatthemoon · 3 months

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break time || mapi leon x reader ||

you take a break from writing your thesis paper to spend some time with mapi.

it wasn't that you were unhappy, but rather just laser focused. you were so close to completing your thesis for your doctorate. mapi knew that this was important, it was your entire life's work. it would be the reason that you truly got to do what you wanted in life, so she had to leave you alone. the only issue was that mapi didn't want to sit by herself in the living room all day anymore. she had been alone all weekend, and all she wanted was to spend a little time with you.

the look on your face whenever mapi entered your office was clear frustration. you had everything written out, and now, it was time for editing. that had always been your least favorite part of writing papers. the edits weren't too bad this time, but the sheer size of your thesis paper was massive. so, it was taking you nearly twice as long to finish it.

"bebita, you've been at this all weekend. come and take a break with me, por favor," mapi pleaded with you. she wasn't above getting on her knees in front of you, whether to beg or distract you had yet to be determined.

"i guess that i could take a little break," you reasoned. mapi was surprised when you gave in so easily. she took your hand and led you into the living room. she wanted nothing more than to just curl up with you on the couch, but you were somewhat restless. you couldn't stop moving, and after a little while, mapi was getting up and putting her shoes on. "where are you going?"

"we are going for a walk. you need to move. vamos," mapi said. she pulled you up from the couch and swatted at your butt. it was all in good fun, but you let out a little grumble. your paper had exhausted you, even if you were brimming with excess energy to burn off. mapi noticed, but didn't say anything. she wasn't quite sure what you needed, or if you even knew that yourself.

you felt a little better after the walk. mapi had let you hold her hand and lean up against her side the entire time. it was nice to be so close to your girlfriend after not having seen her for what felt like the longest time. mapi seemed content with letting you cuddle up next to her even after the two of you had gotten back.

"do you feel better?" mapi asked you as the two of you settled back on the couch. she had expected for you to go back to your paper, only to be pleasantly surprised. she was sort of over lounging around by herself, but could have spent the week rotting with you on the couch watching trashy tv shows.

"a little. i'd like to take more time to relax with you before i go back, though," you told her. mapi nodded as she pressed a kiss to your temple. you let yourself sink into her embrace, which was nearly enough to lull you to sleep. however, you knew that you couldn't afford to take a nap right now, not with the amont of work you still had left.

"i miss this," mapi mumbled quietly. she wasn't quite sure whether or not you were still awake. there had been just enough silence for her to know that you could have easily fallen asleep. you glanced up at her and smiled, the same thought having crossed your mind.

"me too. i can't wait until i have my degree and we can spend time together again." mapi leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. it was soft and fairly quick, but still enough to have you breaking out with an even wider grin.

"ah, there it is!" mapi clapped her hands together, causing you to jump. "there's that smile i love so much. i was beginning to wonder whether i'd get to see it at all before you went back to work."

"you're ridiculous, i smile at you all the time. i can't help myself," you admitted. mapi tilted her head as she brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"yes, but that's a special smile. that's the one that lets me know you're just as far gone for me as i am you," mapi said. you knew that she didn't doubt how much you loved her, there was no way. the two of you were madly in love and had been for years. if anything, you had managed to fall even further in love with her since you started going for your doctorate than whenever the two of you had really started getting serious.

"if i was any more affectionate, you'd be spoiled beyond repair," you teased. mapi knew that it was true, but she still sat there with a pout on her face until you leaned forward and kissed it off. mapi tried to deepen the kiss, but you broke it as you slid off of the couch. "break time is over. i'll be back in for dinner, you can pick tonight, mi vida."

#mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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arcanesea · 3 months

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give up

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader GENRE: hurt-comfort, burned-out gifted kid WC: 501 WARNING: reader is heavily demotivated, violent self-thoughts

"What if I just give up?" You ask nonchalantly. The book in your hands long forgotten because you can't get a single word into your head.

"That doesn't sound like you at all, though," Wonwoo commented, earning a sigh from you.

"What am I like?" you ask him then. Slipping your thumb to the page you last read, holding it in one hand. You look up to him, waiting for his response.

"I don't know, darling. What do you want to be like?" he asks back. He places his hand on your cheek, caressing it with such tenderness that makes you want to ramble all day and night to him. "You know I'm here if you want to talk, right?"

You know. Hell, he's the reason why you have the courage to explore your emotions, navigating the bubbling joy and boiling rage you experience day by day. He's always careful with his words. He knows all the right things to say at the right time.

"I don't know," you sighed again, sitting down now. What do you want to be like? Has your academic achievement been enough? Moreover, is it worth all the sleepless nights, and nauseating afternoons you had to embrace in order to get those striking A's? Or is it finally taking its toll on you when you're one step from graduating? Perfectionism like a barbed wire, tight around your throat.

Wonwoo take your hand in his. He knows everything. About the way you read everything but understand nothing at the same time, about your frustration of building a flawless method for your research, about your restless consultation. He's always ready to lend a hand if you need one, but most of the time, you only require his shoulder to cry on.

"Want to know what I think?" he asks you, tracing circles on the back of your hand. You nodded, tears are threatening to spill if you ever did as much as blink. "I think you did great so far."

You open your mouth to protest but fall back to silence. Nothing works on you anymore, you wish his word would change that.

"I also think that it's okay if you haven't figured it out yet, after all, it's a tough process. I would tell you that everyone has their own timing, but you also need to know that you don't have forever. For this one specific thing, you don't have forever. If you want to try other stuff, if you want to know what you truly love doing in life, you don't have forever to figure this one out."

And you hate how much he's right about that. You can't juggle everything in one timeline or you'll burst into flames, consumed by your own greed for achievements.

Wonwoo called your name, swiping a tear that finally escaped.

"But I hope it eases you to know that I will spend my forever walking beside you, holding your hand. You don't have to figure it all out by yourself."

a/n. this is very much self-insert idk what else to tell you bcs i be doing everything except my thesis:)

#k-labels #caratsland #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #svt au #svt imagines #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt drabbles #svt x reader #(wonwoo fic #wonwoo au #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo drabbles #wonwoo x reader

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findingnemosworld · 7 months

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𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

• 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐩*𝐫𝐧.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥!

she parks her car in front of their shared home more than ready to surrender to slumber after the day she had at school, the thesis had been weighing in on her so much that she felt like it had been ages since she saw her boyfriend of five years, rúben dias — if she wasn’t busy he would be playing, and if he wasn’t playing, she would be busy, she lets out a soft sigh then makes her way up to the front door with her bag slung over her shoulder, she unlocks the door then steps inside to be met with the scent of a home cooked meal which elicited confusion, rúben wasn't meant to be home in an hour, she thinks before the sound of utensils interrupted her thoughts. " rúben? " she asks.

" in the kitchen gatinha " his deep voice sends a wave of relief through her body eliciting a soft smile across her lips, she places her bag on the ground before walking into the kitchen to be met with the sight of her boyfriend, her shirtless boyfriend standing on the stove, he turns around with a broad smile. " hi baby "

she saunters towards him with a tired smile, standing next to him to get a look at what he's cooking, " pastel de nata? " she asks with knitted brows, " am i missing something here? "

rúben chuckles then shakes his head, " no "

" then why are you making dinner? " she wonders with a confused tone.

" because .... " he trails off, tilting his head to press a tantalizingly leisure kiss on the side of her neck, smirking when a breathy moan escaped her lips, " i want to spoil my very very intelligent and sexy girlfriend "

" what did you do? " she giggles, hooking her digits under his chin to get him to look at her.

rúben bites his lower lip which in turn caused her to narrow her eyes at him. " rúben " she said softly.

" remember when you said i shouldn't spend my money on you? " he said, his eyes glinting with faux innocence.

she lowers her head, blowing a soft breath before replying. " yes "

" i may have rented a yacht for two weeks then a nice stay at a beach house in amadora ... " he said with a soft smile, " and i sorted it so you don't miss a day from school "

" rúben " she sighs, " i can't just abandon my thesis "

" i know you don't, but gatinha you've been working so hard " he said with a soft tone, " it's been killing me seeing you so worked up, so please " he pecks her lips, then rests his forehead on hers. " please let me spoil you, you know why i love spoiling you " he adds with a soft smirk.

" because you're a horny teenager " she giggles.

a hearty laugh escapes his lips, it wasn't a secret that rúben's stamina due to his career was high at times that she barely could keep up, he pressed a featherlight kiss on her cheek, " can you blame me? "

" alright, when do we leave? " she smiled.

" in four days " rúben grins, pecking her lips again. " i promise, it'll be fun "

" it better " she giggles.

they packed their belongings; in a matter of four days, they were at sailing through the beautiful coasts of his hometown of amadora, it was bright, quite sunny but just the perfect weather for them - they would spend their mornings swimming, eating then top their nights off the best way possible, until one night as they lay under the moonlight, rúben had decided to divulge what he'd been hiding the entire time, " gatinha? " he whispers, his digits trailing up and down her bare arm sending shivers down her spine. " i need to tell you something! "

she lifts her head up, meeting his gaze with a confused look. " what's wrong rúben? " she asks with a soft voice.

he sits up, she follows suit and looks at him, " gatinha, i have been holding this for eight months and it hasn't been easy " he murmurs.

she tilts her head, confusion still evident across her features. " ok "

suddenly, his hand reaches inside of his short pocket to retrieve a small box, " i ... " he begins with a shaky voice, " my mother gave me my vovó's ... my grandmother's ring " he said with a nervous chuckle before adding, " and -um- ... when i spoke to your father three weeks back, i'd told him what my intentions were and he gave me his blessings "

her brows shot up in surprise, " oh? "

he opens the box revealing a simple yet elegant vintage diamond ring the shone under the moonlight, her eyes widened at the ring; then she looks up at him, " rúben? "

" gatinha, these five years have been a blessing " he said with a soft smile, " through the ups and downs, you stayed by my side and did not relent "

" because i love you " she smiles.

" and i love you, that's why i don't want to wait any longer " he said with a soft tone, " gatinha, you have been the light of my life throughout every moment, the good, the bad and everything in between and for that - i want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you so ... " he swallows the lump in his throat, " will you make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me? "

a broad smile adorns her lips, her eyes brimming with tears as she nodded just as he slipped the ring in her father; the pair exchanged a soft tender kiss that had instantly deepened when he pulled her into his embrace, " gatinha " he groans against her lips.

she knew from the tone of his voice, smiling against his lips she pushed him onto the soft mattress laid out on the yacht, then she climbed up on top of him, she leans down to trail soft kisses across the curvature of his neck, " what do you need meu príncipe? " she whispers in his ear.

he murmurs as a strangled moan escapes his lips, " need to feel your lips around my cock, por favor gatinha "

giggling at his request, she reaches over to untie the dress then loosen the material to hoist it over her head leaving her in just the bikini she was clad in - she leaned down to press feather light kisses across his bare chest eliciting soft breathy moans from his lips that shifted into a hiss the moment he felt the material of his short being pulled down allowing the cool air collide with the sensitive skin of his cock, " gatinha " he moans, " por favor "

her dainty hand wraps around the skin; then her lips followed, wrapping around the tip which in turn caused him to groan, " fuck " the shift in his tone sent shivers rolling down to her pussy, leisurely she takes more and more of his cock until the tip hits" the back of her throat, causing his hips to involuntary thrust forward, " yes ... gatinha, just like that " he sighs, his digits tugging her hair in response to the way her tongue traced every veins on his cock.

the combination of the cool air around them, the moonlight shining over them; the sounds he made, were enough to send her over the edge, her lazy strokes grew rapid in pace and in turn, so did the sounds escaping his lips, " gatinha, uma menina tão boa ... keep going, taking my cock so well in your mouth " he sighs, running his digits through her hair.

her movements shifted from gentle and leisure to rapid and sloppy, his breaths grew labored; before he could even make sense of things, his cock twitched inside her mouth, releasing warm ropes of arousal seeping down her throat, she continued to bop her head up and down, lapping up every drop until she pulled back to crawl up and kiss him passionately, " rúben " she whispers, deepening the kiss.

he understood what she meant, his hands reaching over to untie the bikini top, discarding it near the dress followed by the bottoms before she situated herself on top of him, his cock disappears into her slick walls, eliciting a unanimous sigh from the two of them, his hands grip her waist to allow her to adjust to his size, " gatinha " he murmurs, as his hands crawl up to knead and toy with her breasts, eliciting a whine from her. " come on menina querida, show me how much you love this cock " he cooed.

she nods with a lazy smile, placing both of her palms flat against his chest to lever herself as she started to thrust up and down his cock, both of them releasing labored breaths coupled with soft moans, her lips part softly allowing him to insert two digits inside eliciting a muffled moan from her, her gaze locks with his as her tongue rolls around his index and middle digit resulting in him thrusting forward to meet the rhythmic pace she set, " so good to me gatinha " he sighs, " keep going, i'm close "

the delicious friction of their thrusts coupled with the warmth enveloping them was all they needed to chase their highs together, an obscenely loud cry escapes her lips that was quickly swallowed by his lips, he wrapped one arm around her waist while his other hand landed directly over her one of her breasts, " you're such a good girl gatinha " he murmurs over her lips, deepening the kiss before his head tilts to trails soft lips over her her throat. " you don't know just how much you mean to me " he grinds his hips against hers lazily, matching the rhythm of his kisses. " i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you "

their lips meet once again as a breathy moan escapes her lips, " me too amor, me too "

he pulls back and smirks, " do you know what that means? " his hips thrust once more.

she sighs, " what? " she whispers.

he thrusts again, moaning softly. " i'm going to spoil you as much as i want, so you don't get to say no if i buy you a dress, or if we go on a lingerie shopping trip so i can fuck you in that dressing room, if i come back with gifts, you'll proudly wear them while my cock is buried deep inside that -fuck- " he groans, " that amazing pussy, so ... you have no choice "

she giggles lazily, " i guess i don't have a choice when it comes to your love "

he grins, " my love is as big as the ocean " he pauses before playfully adding, " and as big as the cock you're taking "

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff

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nouearth · 7 months

Text

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night.

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone.

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic.

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel.

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow.

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up.

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same.

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background.

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing.

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his.

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed.

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust.

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i—

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you—

—you need him.

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you.

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together.

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom.

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need.

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn.

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder.

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum.

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole.

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process.

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back.

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin.

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity.

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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anashins · 4 months

Note

Perhaps a Jaehyun fic where you’re either on your thesis or work and are pulling all nighters to meet your deadlines and avoid telling him cos you know he gets mad (even though idol Jaehyun does it too) so when he finds out (it could be bc you either passed out from exhaustion and maybe we get a hospital scene or since you hadn’t slept it slipped out of you? English is not my first language and I’m currently sleep deprived bc of my thesis work so sorry for any grammatical error 😭) he forces u to go to sleep but it’s really cute cos he’s also tired and you get some rest together

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: While being in the hospital, you find out Jaehyun can braid hair. Every day, you learn something new about this man.

A/N: I tried to combine all of them! I hope you like it - and good luck on your thesis, you can do it 🤍🤍🤍

“I have to write my thesis!”, was your first thought upon waking up.

But the ceiling you were staring at didn’t look like your ceiling at home, you couldn’t recognize the color of the walls, and the sparse furniture didn’t belong in your room either.

What looked familiar to you though, as your gaze wandered further, was a figure next to you, sitting by the bedside. The dark hair, the worried expression, the warm hand holding your limp one… that was your boyfriend, giving you comfort in a cold room that seemed like it was located in a hospital.

“You’re awake!” Jaehyun exclaimed.

Realization of your last night at home seeped in. You hadn’t eaten or drunk something in… you couldn’t remember. You wanted it to be two days since your last meal and rest, but your admission into the hospital, arm physically attached to an infusion, indicated otherwise.

“What happened?” you asked groggily.

Jaehyun took a cup with a straw from the nightstand and led it to your mouth. “How do you feel?”

“Tired somehow,” you sighed, opening your mouth. The water tasted unexpectedly delicious, just what you had needed. “And anxious.”

“I found you last night, passed out on the floor,” your boyfriend explained and put the cup back on the nightstand, then seated himself next to you onto the mattress. “You seemed like you hadn’t eaten anything in days let alone slept for more than two hours a night, so I brought you here directly. I was so worried.”

He had dark circles under his eyes, seemingly not having slept this entire time either, ever since he had brought you here. “Jaehyun…”

You reached out to him and touched the side of his face. He smiled meekly. “I’m just so relieved you’re better now. I was so afraid when I saw you there, unmoving in your room. I didn’t know what to do, I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry.” Your hand dropped and covered the back of his that he had rested on your thigh. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, forgot to eat and there is still so much to do. I actually don’t have time to rest, I have to hand in my thesis in a week.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jaehyun chided. “It’s only morning and the doctor will check up on you this evening before he can discharge you. Until then, you’re going to rest.”

“But-” you were about to retort, but he cut you off immediately.

“No buts. You’re not going to work on your thesis now or even think about it. And when you return home this evening, I will move in with you for this week.”

You blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I will cook for you, make sure you’re always healthy and hydrated and get enough sleep. This is not going to happen again, I’ll make sure of that. Let me take care of you when you can’t.”

You had already opened your mouth, but Jaehyun sounded so determined that you didn’t want to disagree with him. Apart from this, it sounded nice to have someone taking care of you when you weren’t able to.

“Okay.”

Living with him for an entire week until you finished your thesis didn’t sound so bad either. Very tempting even, truth to be told.

Your boyfriend then placed a bag next to you. “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not your university materials.” Instead, he pulled out wired headphones, your favorite fantasy book, eye patches and a hairbrush. “We are going to do some selfcare while you’re here.”

You let Jaehyun put the eye patches on your face, the coolness directly having an effect on your tired skin. Then, he offered, “Here, let me brush your hair. I know you always take good care of it.”

You shifted to the side and pulled your hair back over your shoulder. Jaehyun let the brush slide over your strands, but some had already gotten light knots overnight. He took care of them by holding your hair close to the roots and detangling the ends carefully, so that they fell softly over your neck again.

Meanwhile, you took the book into your hands and began reading out to your boyfriend. You always talked about this book and had probably read it eight times already, but you never got enough of it, and Jaehyun had always been patient to listen to your opinions and rants, even if he had heard time a thousand times already.

“Should I braid your hair?” he then asked after he had finished brushing. “So while you’re lying down, it’s not gonna tangle again, otherwise I will spend the entire day combing your hair.”

You tilted your head. “You know how to braid?”

“Yeah, thanks to my little cousins.” You then felt his fingers sectioning your hair into three parts. “It’s not gonna be a fancy french braid, but I’ll give it my best. I even brought a hair tie.” Every day, you learned something new about this man. “Now, continue reading. I want to know whether Feyre will pass the second trial.”

He knew the answer to it. He knew the ending of the book and the entire series already, because you talked about it so often, but he also knew how much you loved doing so, which was why he always acted so clueless and let you speak your opinion.

You loved this man so much.

So you continued reading out to Jaehyun while he gently braided your hair. You felt the tips of the strands brushing over your neck and shoulders, laying on your back and swirling around. It took your boyfriend three attempts for the perfect beginning and he sometimes stopped halfway through to open the braid again, because he wasn’t satisfied. One time, he had even reached the end already, but then let out a sigh, seemingly dissatisfied with his work, and started all over again.

He was so focused, breathing regularly with much concentration, so that you weren’t sure whether he was actually still listening to you. But you didn’t care and instead enjoyed this chaste moment between you two.

“Finished,” Jaehyun then declared and put on the pink scrunchie to fix the braid’s end.

You tenderly touched the tips below the scrunchie. “There is no mirror, but I feel pretty.”

“That’s because you are.”

Jaehyun kissed your cheek and then removed the eye patches from your face.

“Come here.” You closed the book, placed it on the nightstand and took the wired headphones before shifting to the far end of the small hospital bed. “Lie down.”

“I’m so tall and the bed is so small, you won’t have enough space. It’s fine.”

“Don’t worry, it will work. Come here.”

You let your boyfriend lie down next to you and rested your head on his chest. One earphone, you put on yourself and gave the other to Jaehyun who then linked it to his phone and started playing music.

You then lied there together, not talking, just listening to his favorite songs and enjoying each other’s company.

Not much later, you heard Jaehyun snoring lightly, and smiled. He had taken care of you the entire night, he deserved this rest, and so you let him.

Yes, it was nice having someone taking care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself. You would make sure to always do the same for him when you were able to.

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfiction #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

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notspidergoth · 1 year

Text

HOBIE BROWN X BURNT OUT READER

Summary: Reader is overworking themselves, Hobie helps them out! (romantically implied)

Warnings: Forgetting to eat, almost fainting, my sleep-deprived grammar, oh and cursing

A/N: (totally not projecting right now how am I still in school. fucking finals... UGH!!)

Wordcount: 928 words

You continued to type on your laptop, vigorously working the paper your English teacher thought would be a good idea to assign a week before final exams.

There was still some homework to catch up on, pages of mindless busywork to jot out. Even yet there were still study guides to fill out and memorize, and did you end up finishing that project on-

Your train of thought was broken off by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open. The culprit looked up at you before closing the window behind him.

"Hey," Hobie greeted, walking over and leaning against your desk.

You moved some of the papers scattered on your desk out of his way, before continuing to type down your thesis statement.

"No 'hey' back today?" he smirked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, no, yeah, hey Hobie." you muttered, bowed over your laptop.

"When'd this all happen?" he gesturing to the stacks of papers on your desk.

"When all my teachers simultaneously decided to be fucking cunts."

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. For the past while Hobie had been coming over to visit you, the both of you keeping each other company from time to time.

It was like he could sense when you were neglecting yourself at this point, always coming at the most opportune times.

"You seem pretty stressed, when's the last time you've taken a break?"

"A break? Sorry, but have you seen what I have left to do here?" you gestured, exasperated.

"I take that as a no for break-taking."

"Nope." you sighed, flipping through your notes.

"You at least eat something earlier?" he asked questioningly.

"Yeah, sure, yeah." you waved him away, reading through highlighted bullet points.

"Alright then." he shrugged, holding his hands up in surrender.

A couple hours past, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence with one another. You could faintly hear heavy guitar emitting from his phone, and the sound of him chuckling at whatever he was scrolling through. You could just imagine how his face looked when he smiled, the way the corners of his mouth would slant upwards into that arrogantly smug grin that just fit him so well, his lip piercing shifting ever so slightly when he-

"Doin alright?" Hobie looked over at you, "Ya kinda spaced out for a bit."

You looked up at Hobie, and then back down at the blinking cursor on your screen, the last edit made 11 minutes ago.

"Shit."

"Think its bout time you took a break." Hobie sat up, looking at you with concern.

Your brain finally caught up to the conversation. "Huh? No, I'm good, I'm good, sorry."

"Don't apologize." He said, getting up and leaning against your desk once again. "Its been awhile, lets go grab something to eat."

You looked back down at your paper, not nearly as close to done as you had wanted. "I can't, not right now... I'm almost finished it though!" You smiled tiredly, trying to hype yourself up for the remainder of the work left.

Hobie looked over at you, the piles of homework on your desk, and then back at you, before closing your laptop shut.

"Hey!-"

"Nope. C'mon, you're takin a break." he deadpanned, serious.

You were about to retaliate once more before he shot you a glare. You knew if you didn't stop now, he'd end up dragging you away from your desk. Or even worse, keep your laptop hostage. You shuddered at the thought, before you saw movement beside you.

Hobie held out a hand for you to grab, looking down at you from where he stood. The light in your room bounced off him, his metal studs and pins shining in the light.

You grabbed his hand, allowing him to help pull you up. Spots dotted their way into your vision as you stood, feeling the world spin around you. When was the last time you ate? You gripped onto his hand tighter, waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

"You good?" He looked down at you, faux uncaringness hiding the worry across his face.

"Mhm, yup, all good, perfect, just feel like fainting, gimmie a sec."

He continued to hold you up as you supported your weight against him. It was warm, comforting almost if you could ignore the sickly feeling in your stomach.

You were glad your body granted you the ability to see once more, blinking at your surroundings, only to be met with Hobie, having leaned down to look at you. His sharp dark eyes were laced with concern as they looked into yours.

"Shit, have you not eaten yet today?"

Thinking about it now, you couldn't quite recall when you last ate, but you couldn't quite remember much of anything staring into his eyes. You saw them soften before you, before he stood up straight again.

"Fucks sake, c'mon, lets go." Hobie rolled his eyes, putting one of your arms around his shoulders, holding you upright.

"Where we going?" You asked, feeling confident enough to stand on your own, but not wanting to pull away from his warm touch.

"Food joint. Someone smart as you'd think eating's a bright idea, no?" He chuckled, leading you through your bedroom door.

"Not taking the window this time?" you joked, giggling. He had always entered and exited your apartment through the windows, no matter how many times you've asked him to use the front door.

A smile pulled across his face, "Yeah, yeah, shuddup."

The two of you laughed, holding onto him as you left behind your homework.

A/N: (lets see if i have the mental capacity to keep posting!!! remember to eat and drink water!)

#hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie my beloved

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eco-lite · 10 months

Text

I’m once again returning to do god’s work by bringing you delightful moments from Spock’s World by Diane Duane.

[Text ID: “Spock was bent over [the Science Station], making some adjustment. ‘Readout now,’ he said, straightening and looking over his shoulder at the large, shaggy-fringed rock that was sitting in the center seat. Some of those glittering fringes stroked the open circuitry of the communicator controls in the seat’s arm. ‘Point nine nine three,’ said a scratchy voice from the voder box mounted on the rock’s back. ‘A nice triple sine.’ ‘Nice?’ said Spock. Jim raised an eyebrow: you could have used Spock’s tone of voice to dry out a martini.” End ID]

There’s a Horta crewman on the Enterprise now and they’re great!

[Text ID: “Still working on her doctoral thesis, Jim thought. Uhura was busy working on improving universal translator theory, mostly by taking the old theory to pieces and putting it back together in shapes that were causing a terrible furor in academic circles on various planets. Jim vividly remembered one night quite a long time ago when he had asked Uhura exactly how she was going about this. She had told him, for almost an hour without stopping, and in delighted and exuberant detail, until his head was spinning with phoneme approximations and six-sigma evaluations and the syntactic fade and genderbend and recontextualization and linguistic structural design and the physics of the human dextrocerebral bridge. The session had left Jim shaking his head, thoroughly disabused of the idea (and ashamed of how long he had held it) that Uhura was simply a sort of highly trained switchboard operator.” End ID]

Uhura continues to be a total badass and is amazing at what she does.

[Text ID: Chatroom title in all caps: “COMMON ROOM OPINION, INFORMED AND NON- RANTING AND RAVING PERMITTED NAMES NOT NECESSARY” Regular text: “It was one of the places he came to find out what his crew was thinking. Messages did not have to be attributed to a name or terminal, but they could not be private. The office of the common room system operator rotated through the crew, offered to various members on the strength of their psych profiles in areas like calm reaction to stress and anger. The common room syops tended to be closemouthed and dependable, the kind of person that others refer to as ‘a rock.’ (Once it had actually been Naraht, to the amusement of just about everyone.) Here tempers could flare, awful jokes be told safely, suspicions be aired, rumors be shot down. The common room was sometimes a peaceful place, sometimes a powderkeg. Jim never ignored it.” End ID]

The Enterprise has a dumpster fire chat room that has just as much shitposting and vitriol as twitter.

[Text ID: “Jim bowed over her free hand. ‘It’s been too long,’ he said. ‘It’s good to be back,’ Amanda said. ‘And in the middle of a party as well.’ She looked a little wry. ‘A little entertainment will be pleasant before the deluge.’ Sarek’s eyes flicked to Kirk, a considering look. ‘My wife speaks figuratively,’ he said, ‘in the tradition of her people. Deluges are not common on Vulcan.’ ‘My husband speaks circumspectly,’ Amanda said, just as dryly, ‘in the tradition of his.’” End ID]

Amanda and Sarek are as charming as ever.

[Text ID: “Jim was mildly surprised to see that to his other rank tags and decorations, McCoy had added a small, understated IDIC. ‘If I didn’t know you better,’ he said, ‘I’d think you were going native. When did you get that?’ ‘Today in the gift shop, when you were looking at the snowball paperweights with Mount Seleya in them. Tackiest things I ever saw.’ ‘Yes,’ Spock said; ‘they were imported from Earth.’ ‘You be quiet. We can’t let these people leave the Federation, Jim. At least not until they teach us how to make tasteful souvenirs.’” End ID]

Just this.

[Text ID: “There was Sreil, the burly, brown-haired biologist from the Academy, and T’Madh, a little bright-eyed woman of great age and curiosity, a computer programmer; and her son Savesh, who when asked what he did, said, ‘I am a farmer,’ with a sort of secret satisfaction that hinted he thought his job better than any of the more technical ones that the people around him held. Jim had to smile; the thought of a Vulcan farmer was slightly funny, even though there naturally had to be some. But the image of a Vulcan in coveralls, chewing on a stalk of hay, kept coming up and having to be repressed.” End ID]

I love Savesh the Vulcan farmer!

[Text ID: “’Jim,’ he said, ‘the best translation of nehau would be an old word: “vibes.” The feeling-in-your-bones that something gives you. It’s highly subjective.’ ‘Right. Go on, Savesh.’ ‘Well, Captain, I have heard numerous Vulcans say that losing the Federation and the Earth people would be no particular loss, because they had bad nehau, and that could not fail to affect us sooner or later.. But I must tell you that I find your nehau not objectionable at all; pleasant, even.’ End ID]

Vulcan wanting to leave the Federation because the ~vibes~ are off.

[Text ID: “His grasp of dialect and idiom as amazing for anybody, off-planet or on. He once reduced the President of the United States—then a ceremonial post, but one much loved by the people who lived within the old borders—to tears of laughter at a state dinner, by delivering a learned dissertation on computer data storage technology in a flawless Texan accent. The lady was later heard to propose an amendment to the Constitution to allow off-worlders to hold high public office, so that she could have him for her running mate in the next election.” End ID]

I would give anything to hear Sarek do a perfect Texas accent.

[Text ID: “—but when Amanda became annoyed over what she perceived as his smugness about being right, her eyes would flash and she would become splendidly insulting, usually in bizarre Anglish idiom that Sarek found as refreshing as it was annoying. She caused him to laugh out loud for the first time in many years when she told him, after a disagreement over the translation of the word for war, that he should only grow headfirst in the ground like a turnip. Later that month, when he was right about something again and made the mistake of not immediately down-playing it, she issued him with a formal malediction, wishing that the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind orphan children might pursue him so far over the hills and the seas that God Almighty couldn’t find him with a radio telescope. Sarek laughed so hard at that that he entirely lost his breath, and Amanda panicked and started to give him cardiopulmonary resuscitation, which was useless, because his heart was somewhere other than the spot on which she was pounding. It took him nearly an hour to recover: he kept laughing. He had never been cursed like that before, not even by union leaders, and it was very refreshing.” End ID]

This dynamic is perfect, no notes.

[Text ID: “The next night they sat in the Rec Deck again, in the middle of a large impromptu party that was going on around them by way of celebration. The sense of relief in the ship was palpable. A group of about a hundred crewfolk, mostly human, had surrounded Spock earlier in the evening and sung ‘For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow,’ accompanied by twenty crewmen on kazoos. Sarek had been given champagne.” End ID]

I really hope the TOS Enterprise has crew performances like on Next Gen. This kazoo band needs to be heard! Also, I can perfectly picture Spock’s annoyed-but-tolerant expression as he resigns himself to the kazoo serenade.

Thank you @dianeduane for making me laugh!

#star trek #star trek tos #spock’s world #diane duane #star trek books #star trek novels #spock #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #sarek #amanda grayson

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callingmelili · 4 months

Text

A deal.

So I am currently in a virtual class and I should probably be paying attention. I'm sure my teacher would not be impressed by me writing this when I'm supposed to be taking notes, but of course this would be the moment for the horny muse to come back. I may have a second part thought out too.

My set up is the usual, full-body mirror, one of those light rings I used to make fun of other girls from having, mat on the floor in case the gif he sends requires me to kneel. Mark's contact winks at me from the messaging app on my phone, online and writing. His messages always come between seven and ten pm, never at the same time, the bastard has been taking up this window of time every Friday for the last three months.

This time around, the message comes early.

It's only a gif, but it's the worst one so far. A girl kneeling on the floor in knee socks, hair in pigtails , tits bouncing inside a lace bralette as she bounces on a dildo stuck to the floor. A text comes in right after. 'You have 20 minutes, Mia.'

I sigh and head for my dresser, this is the first time one of Mark's gifs goes that far. But do i have another choice? I don't. He is not my boyfriend, he is not a man I can say not to, even if he didn't have a bunch of humiliating videos of me --if he made them public, he'd be shooting himself in the foot anyways, I have proof that he's the only person I've sent them to-- he has something worse… for now.

He and I have a deal. No, really. We do.

Honestly, when he first caught me cheating on a test, I thought I was done for. He was my advisor at the moment, able to report me without breaking a sweat. I never have been a particularly good student and I would have been done for.

I didn't make it this far into graduate school without being decently stubborn, though and I grasped at the one straw still within my reach. I would laugh at how cliche it is if it wasn't my life right now.

Obviously I told him to ask anything of me. I had seen how he looked at me during our one-on-one thesis, I was fully expecting to be asked to get on my knees and blow him, I was also more than prepared to do it if it spared me expulsion.

What he asked for was… a step further.

But I really had no other choice. It was either do this until the end of the semester or face being exposed and expulsed. So far he has only asked me to emulate the gifs, nitpicking only rarely. I had to do a couple repeat performances of the fourth gift he sent me of a blonde girl deepthroating a dildo. He kept saying it was not 'far enough' and my face was not 'red enough', pouting, I scroll up to glare at the finished product of that particular exchange. My eyes are watering and my cheeks are flaming red. Brown hair frames my face as I furiously work the dildo in and out of my mouth. It takes me a while to look away.

"I better get this over with," I say to no one in particular before turning up the light and leaving the camera on standby.

Sighing, I get my hair into the pigtails first before getting the dildo with the suction cup out from it's usual place in a box under my underwear. I have no bralette's that look just like the girl's so I end up wearing the top of a swimsuit instead. The socks I do have a pair of similar ones, only in baby blue rather than pink. Mark usually doesn’t mind small changes due to unavailability of certain items in my apartment, and anyways it shows about the same amount of skin.

"And now as for the pose…" The mat has to go so the dildo can stick to the floor and I can feel the skin of my knees protest as soon as I lower myself over it. The silicone meets slick, oversensitive flesh and I am torn between feeling shame or being relieved that I don't have to warm myself up for it. My thighs are already shaking, skin prickling at the cold of the floor and how a hear seems to have settled deep within my pelvis.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a message, then another and another.

'5 minutes left, Mia.'

'Tic, toc.'

Drawing in a shaky breath I reach forward and turn the camera on. It's set up to stream only to him. Sometimes he will return the favor, I found it gross at first but it's even stranger to do all these things while only hearing his voice coming from my computer speakers. "You could be trying more with the top." He laughs, speak of the devil. Tonight he wants to keep his face hidden it seems, it doesn’t show up in the computer screen.

"Just why would you think I would have that sort of underwear?" I hiss.

I can imagine him shrugging. "You're the type that's usually prepared? Anyhow, I don't like it, just take it off."

"But--"

"Take it off, you're bare-cunted already. What's the damage with me seeing your nipples?"

My thighs shake. "Fine." The bra is the tie-up kind, two swift pulls and it's falling off my tits, leaving my nipples to stand in response to the cold air in the room. "Damn, you could do a better job pretending you don't like this. I can see how wet your cunt is from here."

I roll my eyes at the camera. "I like to be prepared, as you said." I lick my lips, glancing at the mirror. "Lets just get this over with."

"Aye," he laughs, "Well, first off, sit down baby. Aren't your knees getting tired?"

Of course, he means sit down on the dildo I am hovering over. I do so, slowly. Wet as I am, the intrusion stretches me beyond what I'm prepared for, making the descent a little shaky and making me moan. "That's a nice face," mark comments.

"Fuck-- Fuck you." I say, glaring at the camera.

"Of course you wish it was me baby." I can imagine him grinning. "Alas, you're gonna have to do the work there. I believe the girl on the gif has her legs spread out wider." I shiver, but do as told. I can feel the tip of the dildo pressing up into my cervix. "No, wider." I whine. "Wait, no, that's too wide, go back."

The inside of my thighs is wet already, moving on the dildo proves easier than it should. "Good?" I ask, between forced breaths.

"Hmm, good. But stick your ass out more." I do, and the tip of the dildo brushes something that makes me lose my balance and cry out. "Ha! Well, that isn't quite it but do stay there." He laughs, again. "Now, start bouncing."

If I could I'd sag with relief, but all I can do is bounce and hope he's satisfied soon.

Five minutes later I can't believe how wrong I was. "Nope, stop!" He calls, like he's directing a porno and I guess he is. I can't help the protesting jerk of my hips when he does. "Get off on this later, will you?" He huffs. "Cross your eyes more, Mia, and stay still for a second." Time stretches, silent for far more than a second. "Ok, now."

It's the second time he does it, and there are a third and a fourth. I'm not dripping on only the dildo now, but also the floor. He doesn't care, I'm sure enough now that he's somehow learned to see when I'm close and he always stops me at that point before pleasure becomes pure heat. "Isn't that enough?" I pant after the latest interruption.

"No, again. Push your chest out, show the girls off, will you?" His voice is lower now than it ever is in class and I'm so tired by now, knees aching and core throbbing that I just mindlessly obey, eyes crossing, hips slamming down once, twice, three times. This time he doesn’t stop talking, but none of his words urge me to stop or slow down this time. Rather, Mike encourages me. I can't say he compliments me but it's all the same to my foggy mind. "That's it Mia. That's it little whore. The tongue is a nice detail but you're going to have to repeat this performance just for that." He laughs. "No, don't stop on my account, you're too far gone. I thought you weren't getting off on this? My little, pathetic Mia, don't think I haven't noticed just how you get all the other times." It's only his voice filling the room, only his voice and the sound of my ass slapping into the floor, losing rhythm as I come closer and closer, slumping forward and losing form. I know he'll make me repeat it now, I don't care, I just want to cum. "That's right, that's all you want isn't it? Not even to be free from our little deal, you'd sell yourself out for an orgasm, wouldn't you? Well go ahead."

I just want to cum, and I do.

Afterwards, I'm slumped forward, dildo still halfway inside me as I catch my breath. That's when I hear the tell-tale sound of the lock on the front door, and then a familiar voice, coming from both the living room and my computer. "By the way Mia I forgot to tell you I'd be dropping by to drop some material for your thesis off." Mark laughs, it echoes off the walls. "I also wanted to talk about a couple of things. Stay right where you are and maybe I'll be nice and give you a passing grade on this little recreation of ours, even though you didn't get it quite right."

#dumbification #mind control #story #blackmail #corruption kink #exhibtionist

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wen-kexing-apologist · 6 months

Note

ngl i am waiting for you to write about physical touch and HANDS in last twilight *insert manifestation circle.gif here*

Not gonna lie, as much as I have been enjoying Last Twilight, I haven't felt all that inspired to write about it, but it has been making me feel all warm and fuzzy now that people are reaching out and asking for my thoughts. Turns out people actually seem to enjoy my horrendously long posts!

Alright, I will talk about physical touch and hands in Last Twilight, but before I get too far in to it, I just want to say, I love the use of physical touch in shows, but I will dare to claim the use of physical touch seems particularly important, and especially complicated in Last Twilight, compared to most of the other shows I've written about. Why?

Because Day is blind, and Mhok is his caretaker, and if you are remotely aware of disability, the autonomy of disabled people, the privacy of disabled people, the survival of disabled people are often disrupted by abled bodied people. I saw a post somewhere, sorry I can't find it, where someone mentioned the rates of abuse of disabled people by their caretakers and how that might weigh in to Day's reaction to touching a shirtless Mhok in Episode 2.

So.

With Day's blindness, grief, and intentional isolation, as well as his family's anxiety, how much control has Day really had over his own life in the last year? As @bengiyo said in Episode 1, "Day's brashness in the interview when he asks Mhok if he's hot sounds like a gay man knowing that he is about to be touched a lot by a stranger" [not a direct quote, apologies].

Episode 1

gif from @dragonsareawesome123

The first physical touch we get between Day and Mhok is when Mhok touches Day's chin, making a comment that essentially boils down to Day having a punchable face. You can see how shocked Day is to feel Mhok's thumb on him. But the motion is quick, light, and slightly flirty (though maybe I'm reading a bit in to that last one since I know this is a BL). While Day seems taken aback, he doesn't seem uncomfortable with the touch at all, moreso, to me at least, he seems surprised that Mhok *isn't* shying away from touching Day after Day so loudly and blatantly declared his queerness and hit on Mhok.

photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs

The second physical touch we get is when Day leaves his car and winds up on the street with traffic whizzing past. Mhok pulls Day off the street when Day gets overwhelmed and Day goes crashing in to Mhok. I don't remember them staying pressed together for too long, but there is a moment where Mhok is embracing Day. Mhok's hands go to Day's hips while Day's hand rests on Mhok's chest near his collarbone. From my view, this is a decently intimate position for relative strangers, but they don't feel uncomfortable in it. Which is a great hint that Mhok and Day are going to become more to each other. Mhok does something here that I do think is important, which is to tell Day who is he, so Day knows he isn't being manhandled by a *complete* stranger. And though I suspect the biggest reason why Day ends up being driven home by Mhok is because Day wants to be away from Night, it cannot be denied that Day already has some modicum of trust in this random, crass man that burst in for an interview just the other day. Because, as we know, Mhok was really the only person who interacted with Day without falling victim to pity, inspiration porn, or infantilization.

The third physical touch I consider important is when Day's mother stops him from standing up. I've been reading @waitmyturtles PhD level thesis on Bad Buddy so filial piety and saving face is pretty present on my mind. I think it is important to acknowledge that Day does have some autonomy, but where he exercises it is very clear. He can leverage his blindness and his bad experiences with past caretakers to get what he wants out of his mother, and he can double, triple, quadruple the caretaker salary without consulting his mother. But when it comes to physical movement, he listens to his mother, but not to Night. Night tells him to stay in the car, and Day almost immediately leaves the car and goes in to the Society. Day gets out in the middle of traffic after a fight with Night, even after Night begs him to stay in the car. But that moment of challenge from Mhok where he tells Day to come get his ID himself, and Day starts to stand, everything stops dead in its tracks at the first light touch of his mother's hand on Day's chest. So, despite the moments of anger and rebellion we see from Day, he still listens to his mother.

gif from @dragonsareawesome123

And then Day moves to get his ID, and here is where I will mention a moment where there was not any touch. Which, probably could be an essay in and of itself, but I don't have the capacity at the moment, on this airplane, to comb through all the scenes and look for it. But here, this one feels important, because Day takes the ID from Mhok, but Mhok does not let go right away. Their fingers are so close, and in a lot of movies, the handing over of an item would usually involve some sort of moment where fingertips brush and a shockwave of electricity ripples through the future couple. But we don't get that here. The moment of connection, the moment that Day really knows he can trust Mhok, the moment Day decides he is going to hire Mhok has nothing to do with touch, and everything to do with sound. He hears Mhok read Chapter 21 of The Little Prince, a book that is desperately important to Day, and that is that. And I do think it is important that these little touches that we've had, and where we break from the romance tradition for touch are important. Because, I think it is totally fine for feelings to grow between Mhok and Day rather quickly, but I do not think it would have been wise to show Mhok having some sort of actual crush on Day from the beginning. If Mhok had some sort of romantic or sexually attractive feelings for Day before he started working there, that would, in my opinion, read as predatory in some sense. Especially looking ahead to Episode 2, when Mhok is shirtless in Day's room.

Because, the thing about physical touch in television is that a lot of different elements go in to selling it as romantic chemistry. One of the most important components is timing and close up. As a side note, I think timing is a huge factor in to why I did not enjoy Perth and Chimon together in Dangerous Romance (before I dropped it) because the camera just never lingered long enough on their faces or on their touches for me to believe they had feelings for each other. But, by Episode 3 of Last Twilight I can see the care and the chemistry between Mhok and Day. I can see the comfortability that Mhok and Day have from almost the very beginning of knowing each other, but I don't take much of their physical interactions to be sexually charged or romantic in Episode 1. Why would they be? These two don't know each other. By generally avoiding zooming in on just Day and Mhok's hands when they touch, by having Mhok grabbing Day's chin with his thumb quickly and lightly you aren't building to tension. Aof is merely demonstrating that physical touch between Day and Mhok is welcomed and Day is not going to be uncomfortable with having Mhok take care of him.

So we head in to Episode 2 with the understanding that there is some fundamental aspect of Mhok that Day is drawn to, and that Mhok and Day are going to get along.

Episode 2

Now, as much as I have loved the rapidly developing relationship between Mhok and Day, I do kind of wish we had had a full episode's worth of two angry, grieving people coming head to head. But, regardless, Aof handles the transition between casual touch and Something More with expert precision. Unsurprising, considering his oeuvre.

gif by @mooninaugust

So we get absolutely my favorite touch moment to date in Episode 2 with the absolutely terrible secret handshake between two blind people. I love how Mhok is witness to this moment of excitement and friendship between Day and Aon, and that we are too. Because it shows us where Mhok currently stands in Day's hierarchy of relationships. Mhok at the beginning of Episode 2 is still an acquaintance, some dude they hired because he cursed the family out and read The Little Prince during his interview process. The cut scene between Mhok saying Day might not want to see him, and Aon and Day hugging and doing their stupid loser handshake (I love them) shows Mhok and the audience that Day does have joy within him, and that Day is starting to build friendship and connection within his new (read: blind) community. We won't know until a little later in the episode how much Day has been cutting himself off from his old life, but for the time being Mhok knows his place in Day's life.

And Aon picks up on the fact that there is *something* even if it is not necessarily romantic there between Mhok and Day, again not by seeing anything physical between them because a) Mhok and Day did not touch in front of Aon and b) Aon would not have been able to see it anyway. But instead calls out the fact that Day has never talked about a single one of his caregivers before. We know now (and definitely should know already) that Mhok is different from other people Day has engaged with since he started going blind. We just haven't had time for their relationship to mature.

photo from @thatgirl4815

If I recall correctly, the first physical touch between Mhok and Day we get in Episode 2 is when Day accidentally touches Mhok's titty while searching for the eye drops. You can see Day recoil in shock a bit and he questions Mhok almost immediately as to why his shirt is off. Mhok is incredibly matter-of-fact in explaining that Day said he didn't like the smell of cigarettes, so he took his shirt off so as not to stink up Day's room (we can ignore the fact that he would still smell like cigs, but we ignore it For The Vine) and Day relaxes and makes some sort of annoyed comment. Again here, there is no romantic attraction in this rather intimate touch. I mean, this is Mhok's what? Second or third day? Mhok and Day barely know each other, Mhok is constantly fucking up the Whole Routine because he isn't communicating with Day about what Day's needs are, and here he is in his employer's room having his pec fondled. This is supposed to read as funny, and ultimately I think it does, but it doesn't read as romantic, and it definitely should not. What has Mhok done up to this point that would cause Day to have Genuine Romantic Feelings for him? Nothing.

photo from @moonchildridden

Again, the first hint that feelings may be approaching comes outside of the touch, with Mhok seeing how excited Day is to use those few precious seconds of better vision to watch his goldfish. And even moreso, it's not just the action that I think start the train rolling, but the conversation that Mhok has with Day where he asks if the goldfish is lonely. Mhok is able to con Day in to leaving his room by leveraging the health and safety of one of the few things Mhok has seen Day care about and connect with in the short time they've known each other. Day gets outside for the first time in god knows how long, to find that the jasmine is in bloom and to have a lovely conversation with Mhok about it. Mhok asks about Day's vision, how he sees, what he can see, and he tries to adapt to Day's necessary distance requirements. Day of course, has his head turned away and thus does not see Mhok coming in to Day's eyesight range, and bumps his nose against the top of Mhok's finger.

This little, accidental movement is one of my favorites of the episode, mostly because it opens up the conversation where Day asks what Mhok is doing and Mhok asks if Day wants to see his face. And this scene establishes exactly what I mean about timing as it relates to building sexual tension. Day ponders for a moment, the camera lingers on his face, the audience begins to feel like Day is caught off-guard, like maybe he does have some sort of crush on Mhok and he does want to see his face. Only for Day to break that tension right before it gets awkwardly long and tell Mhok he does not. This is closer to the shit that friends would pull. And thus we see that in a very quick period of time Mhok is becoming more important in Day's life as a waypoint. He is listening to Mhok, he has a slight bit of banter going with Mhok when they watch a movie, and even after Day fires Mhok (for the physical touches I will talk about next) Mhok's influence on Day's general day to day (haha) existence is clear in the fact that Day is sitting on the couch and trying to pick a movie entirely independently of anyone.

Things are starting to go smoothly, when Day's friends show up asking when he got back from America. Day panics at the unexpected arrival of friends who seem not to know about his condition, spills his popcorn, and falls to the floor, where he is desperately scrambling to get back on his feet and Get The Fuck Out. Mhok tries to help him up, but he's pretty quickly brushed off. This is the first time we see Day reject a touch from Mhok. Knowing what I know now about where we end up in Episode 3, I am realizing how important this entire scene (from Day tripping to Mhok getting fired) is for establishing a comparison point for change. Because the unwanted touch continues when Mhok breaks in to Day's room, also in a panic when Day is bathing.

gif by @btwinlines

We get such a juicy moment of Mhok and Day's trauma clashing with each other in a way that is unintentionally terrible all around. Day does not know about Mhok's backstory, Day does not know that by putting in his headphones and intentionally ignoring Mhok he is accidentally triggering Mhok regarding the death of his sister. Mhok knows that Day is upset, but only hears the room fall quiet, he does not know that Day is in the bathtub (read: naked) when he comes barging in. Again, to reference the post whoever it was made that talked about the rates of abuse/assault of disabled people by caregivers, this is a horrifically vunerable position that Day finds himself in. Mhok is far enough away from Day's range of vision for Day to see him immediately duck behind a wall to give Day privacy while he wraps himself in a towel. And before Day can really process what is happening, with both his emotions and Mhok's running high, Mhok is grabbing at Day's wrists to check them for cuts. A beautiful (and terrible) detail.

Personally, I do not think anyone's reaction to that situation is wrong, but it does give Day a second round of extremely uncomfortable and unwelcome touching from Mhok, when he's already escalated, and trying to process the fact that Mhok just barged in to his room while Day was naked and got a little peek. Here Day demonstrates that he does have autonomy, and that Mhok respects that autonomy with Day firing Mhok after two particularly awful physical interactions, and with Mhok not even saying a word in protest and just accepting his termination and leaving the house.

photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs

Now. Mhok isn't completely going out fighting, and Mhok I think has really started to realize that he cares for Day (even if he doesn't necessarily have feelings at this point) because of how badly he was triggered by Day falling silent. Mhok is a thoughtful person and respects Day's boundaries by sending Porjai to the house instead of going himself. Much to Day's chagrin, because the second the doorbell rings, you can see this hopeful look that maybe Mhok is going to walk through that door. Porjai hands Day the present Mhok bought him, and Mhok does hold the slippers close, but he relies heavily on his hands to feel the slippers to figure out what they are and what they look like. He knows immediately that Mhok has been paying attention and trying to get to know Day immediately because the slippers solve the problem Day has had with hitting his feet on furniture corners, and the slippers look like goldfish, one of the few things Day has seemed to care about since knowing Mhok.

Beyond the fact that I think Day already felt bad about what happened the other day and regrets firing Mhok, this really does demonstrate to Day that people still care about him, want to get to know him, and understand that adaptation is a constant in Day's new reality. But Mhok takes it further, by committing to the motherfucking bit to understand Day better.

Aside: I fucking *love* Aof for how often his stories focus on the overlooked or disenfranchised people, and I think that while it is going to be a feat for Last Twilight to become my favorite Aof piece considering how important Moonlight Chicken is to me, the backstories of Mhok and Day and the way they inform character decisions is perhaps my favorite of all of the shows I've seen of Aof's. I *love* the conversation that Mhok and Aon have where Aon says Day is scared of being looked at and judged by people, and how Mhok is like "why?" because he has spent the last year a visible criminal, trying to get a job, and being constantly rejected for exactly the reason he thinks. Mhok has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to reintegrate himself in to society, while Day has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to remove himself from society as completely as he can. Even if I am not sure that he believes it wholly, I do think Mhok understands that he isn't an inherently bad person because he was locked up, but that he is a victim of circumstance, and yet even reformed from his truancy past, Mhok found it impossible to get a job because people stopped caring about him as a person the second they saw his ankle monitor. Thus, Mhok knows exactly what it is like to be written off, to be abandoned, to be forgotten and I think it is for precisely those reasons that Mhok decides to spend the time and effort to understand the world that Day is living in.

The ankle monitor has served as an embarrassment for Mhok in such a way that I truly do not think Mhok is concerned about seeming like a complete and utter fool. And even so, he starts to understand the fear that Day is living with existing as a blind person in public, because Mhok is extremely used to seeing what people think of him without them having to say anything, and now he has no idea.

gif by @btwinlines

Which I think is a good segue in to the next physical touch we get, which is Day feeling Mhok's face in the marketplace after he asks Porjai to take him there. Again, the distance of the camera, the timing of the movement does not come off as romantic, at least to me. But it does come off as comfortable. I think Day is fucking with Mhok a little bit when he touches his face, and we don't actually acknowledge or get any conversation around the way Day has just demonstrated what it feels like to be touched without warning.

And YET AGAIN Aof has their bond strength not through touch, but through conversation. Because they aren't falling for each other yet, they are still learning about one another. And so they have a conversation where Mhok apologies and Mhok explains what he was trying to do and Mhok identifies what it is that makes Day so afraid of being in public. And we end Episode 2 with Mhok being re-hired as Day's caregiver. But wait!

Remember the last touch we get in Episode 1 is not a touch at all, it's Day taking his ID back from Mhok. Well, the last touch we get in Episode 2 is not a touch at all, it's Day throwing his hands to the sky on the back of Mhok's motorcycle and letting the wind hit his face. It's Day sitting on the complete opposite side of a glass tank, and using his moment of improved vision to catch a glimpse of Mhok. They aren't touching, yet we end the episode with the understanding that Day and Mhok have strengthened their relationship and are on the fast road to friendship. Personally, I feel like it is extremely responsible of Aof to not treat touching a blind person or having a blind person touch you as inherently romantic, and to have the more stomach swoopy moments come from actions and observations entirely devoid of touch. But, I'm not blind so I don't know how much something like that might actually matter to blind people who are engaging with this story.

Episode 3

IT IS TIME FOR FEELINGS!

There are so many physical touches in this episode. The first we get is Mhok unwrapping a bandage on Day's foot, with Day looking extremely at peace with the action. The second we get is Mhok kind of poking at Day and then jokingly moving to pick Day up when he refuses to start cleaning his room. Day doesn't seem like a person generally fond of man-handling, but you can tell very easily that Mhok is just fucking with Day because Day fucked with Mhok. We are witnessing friendship! Which persists throughout the entire episode.

photo by @athousandbyeol

I like too that Mhok using the blindfold to better understand Day is not a one and done situation. Again there are a few friendly touch moments that do not at all read as romantic.Mhok steals Day’s sunglasses and is perfectly at peace with Day feeling up his face to try to see if the sunglasses Mhok is wearing are his; and when Mhok's hand envelopes Day's when they are trying to guess the shirts in Day's closet by feel alone. Day does not tense up, he doesn't suck in a breath, he doesn't really let that touch linger. He shakes it off quickly and is like "that's my hand". And again, as an aside (I hope this does not come across inappropriately but) I kinda like that Mhok is almost gamifying Day's blindness. What I mean by that is that Day and Mhok are engaging in friendly competition to see who can accurately guess the article of clothing. It seems like a great way to bring some joy and levity to helping Day get better at understanding his surroundings without the use of his vision.

I am an absolute sucker for couples in shows that have an established friendship beforehand. I don't mean friends to lovers necessarily, but too often in BLs I have noticed that romantic interests are only ever that and we don't get a lot of moments of stupidity, tomfoolery, and fun. So you better believe I was living my best life in the next physical touch scene when Day and Mhok are fighting with the dinosaur costumes on. And this is where the physical touches start to change, because we start without physical touch and end with it, where we have up until this point been ending every moment of connection and relationship progression ending without touch.

gif by @raypakorn

For the dinosaur fight, we get the non-romantic, entirely platonic assistive touch of Mhok helping (poorly) to guide Day to the driveway (this fucker was so ready to wrestle he forgot to tell Day to mind the stairs at first lmfao). The actual point of connection starts with Mhok intentionally trying to dive out of the way of Day’s touch. And once again Mhok Day’s blindness to elevate a game between them, by clapping and then diving out of the way to try to avoid Day’s movements. But that avoidance of physical interaction very quickly devolves in to a wrestling embrace, laughing, having fun, and then settling on the ground to chat until Day hears his mother’s car and they run back inside to hide the evidence of childish glee.

Day’s mother returns to find a very different Day from who she left, he’s out of his room, he’s eating in the dining room, he’s seeming much more confident in his ability to navigate around the house. And of course, she has to go and ruin the moment by pushing too quickly on a nerve about going back to school. Day wants to withdraw from school and he needs to go in person.

Now.

We have seen Day taking massive strides in his own healing process in the last few episodes because he is starting to ask for help when he needs it, and Mhok is getting better at caretaking because he is started to ask if Day wants help for certain tasks or if Day is going to do them himself, thus allowing Day to set his limitations. Knowing that Day is going in to school, he asks Mhok to help him fix up his hair, and we get the first of many more crush-level physical touches in the show.

gif by @jimmysea

I’m not Thai, so forgive me if this is wrong, but I am pretty sure that in Thai culture the head is considered sacred and having people touch your head carries a significance that I do not think Western audiences really understand (speaking as a Western viewer). If this is indeed true, then the scene where Mhok is fixing Day’s hair gets even more intense, even when there is a clear change in Mhok’s view of Day from friendly to starting to see something more. Mhok even makes a comment about how Day is a stunner (or something) when his hair is done, and when Mhok asks Day if he likes it and Day returns the question, there is a pause that is not at all dissimilar to the pause Day had after Mhok asked him if Day wanted to know what Mhok looked like.

But where the tension from Episode 2 when Mhok asks the question is broken in a way that makes it seem more like Day is just teasing, I don’t think Mhok’s deflection of “it’s alright” really returns the same level of dismissal. Because Mhok is starting to realize something about the way he is feeling for Day.

We get the inside of the Thai subway for the first time in maybe ever? As Mhok and Day make their way to Day’s college. And thus the not-a-date-kind-of-a-date adventure begins. Day is clinging on to Mhok’s arm as they navigate on to the subway car, at which point Mhok breaks off from Day to try to ask for a seat for Day. But Day grabs him and pulls him back, choosing instead of hold on to Mhok’s arm. Like I have been saying, Aof has been doing a really great job at differentiating the types of touches, and up until this point, the more intimate touches between Mhok and Day, such as when Day feels Mhok’s titty in his bedroom or Mhok’s face at the market, don’t read as romantic, because Day is taking in information to supplement his vision. Similarly, the moments where Day is holding on to Mhok for assistance in environmental navigation, such as when Mhok helps guide Day to his professor’s office or helps him down the stairs the physical touch is matter-of-fact on both ends.

photo by @athousandbyeol

But here, in the subway, we get the first instance of physical touch from an environmental navigation standpoint that reads more like a man who is developing a crush rather than Day just being guided…

…but that comes from Day, not from Mhok. Which I appreciate massively from the standpoint of ensuring that Mhok as the caretaker does not appear to be taking advantage of Day. In the subway, Day could have sat down, he didn’t need to stay standing, he didn’t need to continue holding on to Mhok. But he chooses to do that. He chooses to keep his arm linked tightly with Mhok’s, he chooses to get a little flirty with Mhok when he says as long as Mhok stays close to him, that’s all Day needs. And we get the close up of Mhok and Day’s hands when Mhok moves to tap Day’s hand gently, and the shot lingers. Because things are starting to change.

I said in a previous reblog last week when Episode 3 came out that Aof does this really interesting thing in his direction and cinematography when characters share intimate moments, in that he breaks from his standard visual format. The lighting often changes, the camera isn’t held as steady, the moments are zoomed in much closer than we are used to. We get it with Heart and Li Ming playing that spider game with their fingers the night that Li Ming sleeps over and we get it in the subway when Day stumbles slightly and swallows hard, embarrassed and avoiding eye contact while Mhok looks at Day kind of fondly.

gif by @taeminie

So we see the spark in the subway and then watch that spark begin to catch when they end up in the dressing room together. Day and Mhok both establish that they have never been in a dressing room with another person to cut the tension and nerves a bit. Afterall, this is the first time that we’ve seen where Mhok is getting up close and personal with Day’s partially nude body, when they are both calm, collected, and not amidst a panic attack about a potential medical emergency. No one is feeling violated, no one is feeling scared, no one is having their privacy forcibly removed from them. But that makes them all that more aware of how they are feeling, physically, when they are touching and being touched.

And we get a secondary Aof Camerawork Moment where the style of shot changes and we get that gorgeous zoom in on Mhok’s hands and Day’s chest when Mhok helps Day back in to his shirt. And isn’t it wonderful that the most sensual and intimate moment that we have seen from Mhok and Day so far is putting Day’s clothes back on?

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Check out @btwinlines’ post about this scene.

Day and Mhok continue their day, find the Last Twilight book, and are hanging about the market where Mhok leaves Day standing against a pole while he runs to grab a drink. As a result, we get a bombardment of physical touch, the most overwhelming to date because Day is getting just absolutely shunted around, bumping elbows and shoulders with the people at the market with no idea of where he is or where he is going. And this is where we really get an understanding of how terrible physical touch can be when you don’t have any bearing of your surroundings and can’t see where people are coming from or anticipate contact.

We got a scene in Episode 1 where we see how dangerous being blind has the potential to be, but Day isn’t being touched by anybody at that point until he is pulled off the street by Mhok. But this time while Day does have a moment where he is in more physical danger because he stumbles on to the street, he is relatively much more safe getting lost in the marketplace than when he ran out on to the street in Episode 1, cause the few cars that are present are moving slow and know to be looking out for pedestrians. Day is grabbed and directed by random strangers who are trying to help him and kind of just…drag him along until he is out of the street when he is visibly panicking and then just…left on the side of the road with an offhanded statement from strangers that he is “safe now” and they just…leave him alone and continue on their way. Even there, with a helpful touch, there is no safety or comfortability in Day’s posture, he is not calmed by hearing that he is safe. Which serves as a really great comparison point for how comfortable Day has pretty much always been with Mhok (minus the one moment of severe dysregulation after being surprised by his friends and then by Mhok when Day was buck ass naked).

Especially when compared to the relief that just rushes through Day’s body when he and Mhok are reunited and they embrace.

AND LIKE OKAY, CAN I GO ON A BRIEF TANGENT TO TALK ABOUT THE PINK SHIRT?

gif by @tomystars

You know how in a lot of romances you get that moment where you get the like, love at first sight thing? Time slows down, one half of the romantic pair picks the other half of the romantic pair out of the crowd? WE GET THAT HERE, WITH THE BLIND CHARACTER BEING THE ONE WHO PICKS THE FUTURE LOVE INTEREST OUT OF THE CROWD.

The pink shirt is brilliant, and I love how it both acts as an anchor point for Day who is able to calm down upon seeing it, and not panic or freak out when being grabbed and embraced by Mhok after having a decently traumatic experience with physical touch just minutes before while also reaffirming that Mhok is learning and internalizing the adaptations he needs to incorporate in to his own life to make Day’s daily life easier and more accessible. Mhok understands how Day’s vision functions, he remembers that Day has said he could see that shirt from Mars it’s so bright, and he provides an in for Day to maintain his autonomy by making it possible for Day to potentially see Mhok before Mhok sees Day.

ANYWAY

@athousandbyeol

The embrace they share when Day and Mhok are reunited is not charged, is not romantic, at least not to me. But what it does show is how much care Day and Mhok have for each other, how quickly their friendship is developing, and the safe spaces these two will find in the other. Day calms so quickly the second he and Mhok are touching, as soon as he has an anchor. And he won’t let go of Mhok either.

Aof and co have been playing well with dichotomies, here, a situation that pulls Day and Mhok physically apart ends up bringing them emotionally closer together. It is clear that Day does not blame Mhok for what happened, even if Mhok was gone much longer than anticipated, and that is affirmed by Day defending Mhok to his mother when she questions Mhok’s caretaking skills and holds his criminal record over his head.

And, let’s not forget, this is just writing about the physical touch, this post does not discuss whether or not the lack of touch is important. I wrote a decent chunk of this in the airport without wifi, so I could only talk about physical touch from memory, I didn't rewatch anything like I normally do, so apologies if I missed stuff.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #last twilight meta #last twilight analysis #jimmysea #mhokday #mhok x day #morkday #mork x day #physical touch in last twilight #sorry for the delay anon I know you sent this ask the other day #but fun fact it does take me an ungodly number of hours to write things so I hope you did not feel ignored #wka long post

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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months

Note

Howdy Charlie 🤠 l have been enjoying these new fic releases from you. You’re amazing and I love reading your work at the end of the day to unwind.

I’m not in a hurry as I’ve read you’re taking a break but if you do get inspired to write again, can I please request

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ & ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Pre-outbreak where reader does something that causes a huge fight with Joel and they ignore each other for days then reader thinks it’s the end of their relationship so she packs her bag to leave without a word but Joel comes home earlier than expected and stops her and they get into another fight before reconciling and he shows his sweeter side to make up to her . Can you make it EXTREMELY angsty and a lil fluffy in the end.

Thank you! 😘

Anon, when I say that I've had this fic sitting in my drafts FOR WEEKS I'm not even lying. I absolutely loved this prompt but idk I couldn't make it seem right... I've done my best, I really hope you enjoy it! I'm just on my Joel Miller bullshit atm, don't judge me.

Pairing | Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | Some angst, some fluff, mentions of alcohol, mean!Joel at one point, SMUT - oral (f receiving) no use of y/n and I think that's it.

Main Masterlist

There was something about Joel Miller that had you smitten from the start. Maybe it was the fact that he was so different to the stupid college boys you’d been wasting your time with, or maybe it was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome, or the fact that whenever you were together, he would make it his mission to make you come enough times that you forgot your name before he even thought about taking pleasure for himself. Whatever it was he was different, and you were pretty sure you loved him.

He'd barreled into your life headfirst a few months ago. Your car had given up the ghost on a small country road and you had no cell service to call a recovery. There had been a moment of dread when his truck had pulled up behind yours, this is how so many girls died in those documentaries you’d watched, but when he stepped out of his truck and that Southern drawl had hit your ears, you thought that even if he was going to murder you and leave you in a ditch, you wouldn’t mind all that much. Got you out of finishing your thesis if nothing else.

“You stranded, sugar?” He’d called out, keeping his distance enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to try anything stupid.

“Yeah,” You called back, “I have no idea what’s wrong with it and there’s no cell service.”

“You want me to take a look?”

“You a mechanic?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly, but I’m good with my hands.”

The innuendo isn’t lost on either of you, you smirk but give him a signal to look at your car. He pops the hood and takes a few minutes to look around, “Was it steaming when you pulled over?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You admit.

“Looks like it’s just overheated, sugar,” He muses, “Not much to do but sit and wait for it to cool down a little,” You pull a face at the thought of having to sit in your car without the air con, “I don’t got anywhere to be so you can sit in my truck with me for a bit?” He offers, “The air-con is on.” He adds, sweetening the deal.

So you do. You sit with him for an hour, talking about your master’s programme and how stressed you are with your thesis. He talks about his work, bailing his brother out of jail for the second time that week and his daughter Sarah. When the sun starts to set, he jumps out of his truck to inspect your engine again, deeming it safe to drive.

“Well, thanks,” You say as you sit in the driver’s seat and start the engine up, “Literally don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.”

“You’d have let it sit, tried turning the key a little while later and been fine,” He chuckles, “But you’re welcome, it was nice meetin’ you.”

“Joel-” You call as he tries to walk away, “Can I maybe buy you a drink to say thank you?”

He turns around and smirks at you, “You askin’ me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I was?” You arch an eyebrow at him.

“I’d be a fool not to, sugar.”

It’s cliché for you to say but the rest really was history. You’d bought him a drink to say thank you a few days later, he’d bought you more because he liked your company. You’d snuck him into your room a few hours after that, managing to dash past the kitchen where your housemates were having dinner, where he’d spent an hour knelt between your legs, lapping at your pussy and then fucked you better than anyone had ever done in your life.

It was summer break now. Sarah was away at camp for a few weeks, your thesis finally done and submitted. Joel had suggested that you stay with him, he’d mumbled something about it being nice not having to sneak around to see each other and you had to admit he was right. Waking up next to him with streams of sunlight illuminating his face, that was priceless. Making him breakfast before he went to work, domesticated but you loved it.

It had been two weeks of that, with another one still to come before Sarah came home and you had to go back to the small room in your shared apartment. One of your friends had invited you out on Saturday night – a way for you all to celebrate being done with studies. You’d planned to go back to Joel’s that night, he’d even given you money for the cab ride home – but one too many tequila shots and a dead cell phone later, you’d been led back to your apartment by your friends, plugged your phone in to charge and promptly fallen asleep.

When you’d woken up the next morning there was dread in your stomach, reading through the texts from Joel last night. Ten missed calls and texts that read where r u and please let me know ur safe.

You dressed as quickly as you could, grabbing your phone and keys before you called a cab to pick you up. You knew you’d fucked up. You wanted to call him, let him know you were okay, but this was something you’d have to do face to face. It took far longer to get to Joel’s, Sunday morning traffic proving a challenge as you left the city and headed for the suburbs. You took a deep breath as you fit his spare key into the door and opened it.

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” He asks when you shut the door and put your keys on the side table, “I’ve been worried sick about you all night.”

“I’m sorry Joel,” You mumble, you really were, “We got carried away and then my phone died, and my housemates just dragged me back to my apartment, I was just going to charge my phone a little and then come back here but I must have fallen asleep.”

“You didn’t think to use that landline’a yours?” He was sat on the couch, but he’d turned his body towards you in the doorway, he was pissed.

“I’m sorry Joel, okay, it was a stupid mistake, what more do you want me to say?”

“I gave you money to get home, told you to tell someone to remind you that’s where you were going, what were you thinking goin’ out and gettin’ so drunk you couldn’t remember where you were going home?!”

“Don’t you dare make this out like I was outta control!” You counter, “I was safe Joel, I was with my friends, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He’s standing now, taking steps towards you.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Should’a fuckin’ known,” He says, mostly to himself, “Don’t think about anyone but yourself, silly little girl.”

His words cut through you like a knife. He’d never once made you feel like this. Despite the ten-year age gap you’d always seemed like his equal. Not now, now you felt small and insignificant.

“You are losing my interest and that’s very dangerous.” Is all he says next.

“Fuck you Joel Miller,” You spit at him, reaching for your keys, “You think you’re doing me a favour? Letting me stay in your nice big house playing families? All you wanted was a fucking maid the way you’ve been behaving.”

You’re out of the door, slamming it behind you and pulling your car out of his driveway in record time. You make it to the end of the round and a little way around the corner before you have to pull over and sob into your hands.

Four days. Four miserable fucking days and he hadn’t even bothered to text you. You’d moped around in your room for the first twenty-four hours. Then your housemate had practically forced herself in because she thought you’d died. You’d cried to her about how unfair it was, then she’d made you sit on the couch, drink too much wine and watch shitty reruns.

If it had been four days and he hadn't bothered to message, then it really must be over, right? You led in bed that morning running through all the things you’d left at his house that you really did need back. You still had the spare key, and you knew he’d be at work until later this evening, so you push yourself out of the tangle of sheets, get dressed and make the drive over.

Thankfully when you arrive his truck is nowhere to be seen. Definitely at work then. You open the front door, closing it behind you softly. You take a moment when you step in to remember all the times you’d been happy here. The time you’d helped him make Sarah’s birthday cake, or the time you’d snuggled up under the blanket together on the sofa and fallen asleep watching a movie. The time he’d hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and eaten you out like it was his last meal. Or the time you’d not made it up the stairs and he’d fucked you from behind halfway up the steps. Tears pricked at your eyes. Foolish. Silly Little Girl, thinking he might be the one, just like he’d said.

You wiped angrily at your eyes and made your way up the stairs to his room, trying to block out the shiver down your spine as you thought of the long nights and lazy mornings you’d spent wrapped up in his bed. You find your duffle bag in the bottom of his wardrobe, you set it on the bed and start pulling clothes from his drawers, shoving them as quickly as you can into the bag.

You’re setting a bottle of perfume into it when you hear a key in the door. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the days he could come home for lunch, it had to be this one.

“Sugar?” You hear him tentatively call from downstairs.

He won’t get the satisfaction, you think, you won't talk to him, just get your things and leave. You hurry to gather the last of your belongings, hoping you can just leave, when you hear his work boots on the stairs.

You’re fighting with the zip on the bag when the door creaks behind you, “Hey, I was calling you.”

“I heard.” You reply.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

You groan in frustration when the zip catches and refuses to move, “What does it look like, Joel?” You hiss, “I’m packing my stuff so I can be outta your hair like you want.”

“I don’t want that.” Is all he says.

“Well you’re doing a fucking good impression of it,” You turn to him, “You don’t call me, you don’t message me, you call me a silly little girl, but you want to keep me around?!”

“Sugar, listen to me,” He’s walking forward, gripping your arms in his hands, “I was angry, and I handled it badly, I’m just-” He falters, “I’m not used to any of this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t mean what I said.”

You look at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes plead with you like they are now. It breaks your heart a little.

“But you called me a silly little girl Joel,” You whimper, trying hard not to cry, “Everything you said to me hurt.”

“I know sugar, I know.” He breaths, pulling you into his chest, “I thought if I gave you some time, we’d be able to talk, but I don’t want you to leave,” His lips brush the top of your head in a kiss, “Never want you to leave.”

You tilt your head and press a kiss to his jawline; it had always felt like home when you were wrapped in his arms.

“Let me make it up t’ya, sugar.” His hands are roaming down your spine and you can’t resist him anymore.

You soften into his body, and he takes it as a yes, he tilts your chin up with one of his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and you let out a sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck to mold yourself closer to him. His hands are gripping at the meat of your ass as he’s walking you back towards the bed. Before he lets you fall, he grabs the forgotten bag of your belongings and tosses it to the floor, settling you to sit on the edge of the bed whilst he drops to his knees.

His hands are pushing the skirt of your dress up to gather at your hips, his mouth leaving trails of hot kisses up one thigh and down the other. Your head drops back, and you let out a sigh when his big hands come to rest on your hips, “Can I take them off, sugar?” He asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.

You look down at him and smirk, “If you want to make it up to me, I’d say it’s pretty essential.”

He copies your smirk, “Lift up then.”

You push down on your hands to lift your ass off the bed just enough for him to pull the lace off your skin and down your legs. You set yourself back down on the sheets but opt to stay in your sitting position, shifting your backside as close to the edge as you can without risking falling off, widening your open legs for Joel to see you.

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He groans, leaning down to press kisses over your mound, but never once dipping low enough to give you relief.

He knows what you want, your hips are chasing his mouth as they move around to press kisses to everywhere but your pussy. You grumble in frustration when he moves away from you, “You want my mouth on your pussy, sugar?” He asked, looking up at you like the cat that got the cream.

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious by now.”

“I gotta hear you say it, sugar.”

“Joel-” You moan, reaching out to grab a fistful of his hair, “Please put your mouth on me.”

He responds with a grin from between your legs before he licks one long stripe up the seam of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so slightly through your folds to tease your clit before he’s pulling away, “See what happens when you ask nicely?”

You’re about to respond with something smart when he uses his fingers to spread your lips to reveal your clit, and then he’s running soft circles on it with the tip of his tongue. A guttural moan drops from your lips and your hips are bucking into his face as he continues his teasing touches with his tongue. His hands are gripping the meat of your thighs and God you want more.

“Joel-” You moan, gripping his hair again, “Fuck, God alive I need more.”

He pulls away from your pussy just enough to say, “What do you need, sugar?” Before he’s back to work.

“Fu-fuck, Joel,” You’re grinding your hips into his mouth, “Fingers, please, I need your fingers.”

You swear you can feel him smile against you, but one of his hands moves from your thighs and you feel him slip one inside of you. You’re so wet that it’s easy for him, he pulls out and when he’s pushing his fingers back into you, there’s a second, “Oh my god yes just like that.” Is all you can managed to get out.

He’s being more forceful with his tongue now, switching between the soft teases from the tip of his tongue to full licks with the flat of it and it’s got you on the edge already. When you look down at him it’s like heaven. You can see his tongue teasing your clit and the movement of his shoulder as he pumps his fingers into you. It’s a depraved sight but one that you never want to forget.

“Can feel you gettin’ tight around my fingers sugar,” He mumbles into your pussy, “You gonna come for me like a good girl?”

“Yes!” You’re crying out as his fingers curl inside you into just the right spot to have spots clouding your vision, “ohmygod Joel, I’m so fucking close.”

He knows exactly what to do from here. He’s learnt how to play your body like a fucking fiddle, and he knows it. He’s pressing his fingers so deep into your pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Then he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks whilst his tongue is still flicking tight little circles over you, and you’re gone.

Your head is thrown back and you’re screaming his name. Your pussy is clenching around his fingers and your whole body is convulsing as it washes over you. Joel pulls his fingers from you, and you look down to watch him lick your slick off them before he’s dipping his tongue lower and literally drinking from you. Wide stripes from his tongue from your aching entrance as he cleans up what you’ve given him.

He pressed kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you can feel your slick on the scratch of his beard, “I really am sorry, sugar.” He says and you laugh.

“Get up here.” You say, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt.

He obliges, standing up briefly to kick off his work boots, before he’s gathering you up and placing your head against the pillows. He’s kissing you; you can taste yourself on his tongue as it molds into your own.

He flops down on the bed next to you and you curl into his side, running your hands down his chest to rest on the bulge of his jeans before a yawn falls from your mouth, “Tired, sugar?”

You nod, burying your face into his chest, “Not been sleeping.” Is all you offer in explanation.

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Take a nap.” Is what he says, taking hold of your hand on his groin, wrapping your fingers together to rest on his stomach, “I can wait.”

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” You ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I got nowhere else on earth I’d rather be, sugar.”

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