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scvrgrl · 18 hours ago

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don’t worry darling | vinsmoke sanji x fem!reader

sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second...

word count: 2.6k

cw/tags: afab/fem!reader, housewife!sanji, established relationship, high school sweethearts, mature language, modern!au, fluff, porn with a lil plot, cunnilingus, slight suffocation (it's okay he likes it), use of pet names ("darling", "sweetheart", etc.), and other crazy shit i probably forgot to mention, MDNI pls!!!

if you're unfamiliar with frankie avalon's 'venus', you can find the song here!

frustration throbbed beneath the soft skin of your temples, vessels threatening to pop under the weight of your irritation. countless hours spent at your stuffy office job called for silent drives home with the windows down, the cool summer breeze drowning out the musty scent that stuck to your clothes.

the warm kitchen light illuminated the red brick of the windowsill as you pulled into the driveway. the hum of a soulful tune spills from the window, Etta James' voice synchronizing with the longing beat of your heart. polished glass slightly ajar graced you with a glimpse into your own loving home, the home you shared with you husband. your eyes landed on the sight of your husband's well-dressed back, cigarette in hand as he swayed along to the tune. you instantly recognized the maroon dress shirt that clung to his sculpted frame, a piece of his expansive wardrobe he knew was one of your favorites. his gaze was focused on the sizzling pan before him, tossing its contents gently as he took a long drag. it was small acts of service like these that made your heart swell, traces of harsh footsteps washed away from the shore of your mind.

slipping off your work shoes, Sanji's firm hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss. your head swims as he dives into you, teeth brushing together as you smile. the smell of spice and nicotine floods your senses, a familiar warmth pooling deep in your stomach.

"hello, my love," Sanji greets tenderly, palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. "how was work today?"

"long," you sighed, shrugging off your coat. "how was your day? i smell something cooking."

Sanji chuckles at the sight of your nose switching upwards, inhaling the savory aroma of meat and starches. "mine was just fine, dear. i've been prepping dinner all day — it's your favorite! grilled chicken with garlic potatoes and veggies, just the way you like it."

the thought of the delicious meal made your stomach grumble, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sanji's raspy laughter filled the silence as he brought you close to his chest, his thrumming heart filling your ears. the beat synchronized with the introduction to Frankie Avalon's 'Venus,' your coupled bodies swaying to the soft melody. a thick, sultry hum vibrates against your temple as Sanji begins to sing along:

"Venus, goddess of love that you areee," he drawled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "surely the things i ask, can't be too great a task.."

overwhelming gratitude filled your chest as you whisked away in the foyer of your home, the home you shared with Sanji. he was the man of your dreams, often staying home to tend to housework while you provided for your growing family. when you first started dating, he offered to work for the rest of your life if it meant that you would never have to worry ever again. your high school sweetheart was always overly ambitious, constantly feeling the need to reassure him that wouldn't be necessary. despite always complaining about your nosey coworkers, you enjoyed working as it gave you a stable routine amidst the chaos of your life. Sanji was another grounding force that kept you afloat, a factor in your life that you knew would remain constant. his place in your heart was set in stone, an immovable force that no disaster could shake.

you crane your neck upwards to meet his soothing gaze, using the palm of your hand to gently cup his cheek. scratchy stubble of a clean shaven face grazed your soft skin, the pads of your thumb tracing the wear of his under eyes. Sanji sacrifices his time at the restaurant for you, cutting down his hours so that you can come home to a clean house with a fresh meal decorating the dining table. sheltered in the haze of cigarette smoke and you are Sanji's favorite evenings. but it would be a lie to say that you don't worry about your husband's wellbeing. worried that he prioritizes your needs over his own.

"you know you don't have to do this, sweetheart. i'm perfectly fine with coming home to take-out and a movie date on the couch. i'm worried you're stretching yourself thin for my sake," you said shyly, sympathetic.

Sanji took your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss, "I'm fine, [y/n]. i promise you that everything i do, i do out of free will. now let me take care of you by feeding you—"

overcome with emotion and desire for your husband, you crash your lips into his, cutting his sentence short. your firm grasp on the nape of his warm neck guided him into you, Sanji matching your pace with practiced ease. the kiss began tenderly, spoke a language no words in the English language could proclaim. but with the kind of day you've had, you craved more and more of his delicate touch. you wanted to make up for all the lost time you spent wasting away in that dusty office while your husband worked, busying himself as he patiently awaited your arrival.

small nibbles and desperate pulls of velvety skin intensified your need, a fervid heat beginning to pool between your thighs. Sanji's strong hands worked at your waist, tugging your hips into his, now painfully aware of the clothing that separated the two of you. "off" was the word tattooed to the forefront of your mind, the power it held in what it meant drove you to a euphoric high as you pressed yourself further into him. as if you couldn't feel more alive, Sanji hoisted you up into the air, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved with purpose. you gasped in shocked pleasure at the height, staring into his deep blue eyes before colliding once again. you had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. all you knew was that you needed him. and you needed him now. hell, he could take you right here on the floor if he really wanted to, ruining the pristine condition he worked to maintain throughout the day.

to your surprise, a firm surface clashes with the soft plush of your ass, Sanji using it as an instrument to aid your pleasure. his gentle hand is now rested under your knee, spreading your thighs ever-so-slightly to claim his spot between them. the thick hard-on beneath his dark slacks grazes your aching core with every dip and thrust. your hips buck mindlessly, chasing that sensation as you grow increasingly more wet under his touch. the taut material of your work pants begin to prickle your legs, your arousal bleeding into a feverish sweat. off.

"off, Sanji," you whimpered, eyes half lidded as you tugged at your waistband. "take these off."

Sanji, never one to deny your request, began to fiddle with the metallic loops and buckles of your pants. his hot mouth lowered down to your neck as he peeled the pants clean off. the snap of the loud fabric pulled your mouth into a naughty smirk, planting your feet on the tabletop as you raised your knees to your chest. the sight of your sopping panties now on full display to the rest of your house, the ghosts of warm memories swimming around you as you drink in the sight of the blond man under you. a raspy moan escaped from your lips as Sanji tugged the supple skin of your neck with his teeth, hungrily satisfying your flesh as his hands wandered down to your hips.

his slender fingers hooked under the thin elastic of your panties, the pastel pink fabric darkened with your arousal. you lifted your hips into him once more, inviting him to pull them off and take you. Sanji has always been fluent in your body's language, taking your wordless request into consideration as he obeyed your command. the room's stuffy draft drifted cooly over the heat rising from your core, the sensation urging your craving to be touched. you craned your neck back, raking your fingers through messy blonde waves as you gave Sanji full access to the expansive plane of skin. his lips surged into yours as his fingers trailed softly between your folds, your slick painting his fingertips. his teasing touch caused you to moan against his ear, the absence of necessary friction driving you crazy.

"touch me harder," you pleaded, writhing your hips into his touch.

Sanji pulled his fingers away instantly, earning an irritated groan from you. his hands caressed the supple skin around your pulsing cunt, gently massaging circles to ease your tensing muscles below.

"shhh, it's okay sweetheart. we have time," Sanji hushed gently, one of his palms cupping your cheek.

leaning into his touch, you huffed and shuddered under his intense gaze. your cheeks flushed a fierce pink as your bottom half lay open and exposed, his own growing erection dangerously close to your cunt. his thumb brushed your bottom lip lightly, the slick of your saliva gliding it effortlessly into your mouth. your tongue hollowed as you tasted his finger, twisting and sucking it further down your throat. the smell of smoke and ash intoxicating as you tasted his fingertips, growing envious of the addiction he spends so much time satisfying. you never broke eye contact as you did so, watching his resolve crumble with every swipe and stroke. completely mesmerized by the way your head bobbed around his finger, Sanji dove further, earning a sweet gag out of you.

"will you fuck me now?" you asked around his finger, tone thick and full with arousal. your fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, undoing them agonizingly slow to reveal your breasts.

Sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second.

his slick thumb trailed down your exposed middle, each pass igniting a flame as he inched closer and closer to your needy pussy. you watched breathlessly as he met your core, his finger tracing lazy circles over your swollen clit. every rub sent jolts of electricity deep into your stomach, muscles beginning to constrict as your orgasm builds. Sanji's hand found its way into your bra, kneading the plush skin of your breast as he stimulated you below. the attention drove you wild, your breath hitching in your throat as it grew unbearable. you needed him inside you, needed him to brutally attack that gummy spot that sent you reeling.

Sanji lowered himself between your thighs, his warm breath ghosting over your drooling cunt. he exhaled a satisfied groan as he slid a finger inside, twisting and hooking to tease your g-spot.

"so needy," he purred, placing a tender kiss on your puffy clit. you flinched from the contact, rocking your hips into his rhythm as he eased in a second finger. "its hard to believe you could work in these conditions, my love. you're so tense! use me, baby. use me to let go and relief yourself."

a whiny, pitchy moan dragged out from your lips, throwing your head back as he pumped ferociously inside of you. Sanji's tongue teased and suckled at your flesh simultaneously, lapping up your sweet nectar as you slowly released around his hold. just as your thighs began to tremble and twitch, Sanji removed his fingers, your cunt pulsing frantically in their absence. it wasn't long before he dove back in, replacing his hands with his wild tongue. you writhed as he pried your thighs apart, his firm grasp trying its best to keep you in place. your back hit the thin linen sheet that draped over the dining table, fisting the fabric as you rode your high.

lewd sounds of your slick lapping against his tongue mingled with the clang of rattling silverware, a melody of desperate moans joining the symphony. your hands found their way into his honey-blonde hair once again, Sanji's scalp stinging as you tugged.

"fuck Sanji! right there! don't stop i'm close.." you cried out, eyes watering as you shut them tightly. the moans escaping you were deafening, the old wood beneath you vibrating. you could feel Sanji smiling into you, his lips curling into a smirk as he continued to ravage you.

your neck snapped upwards, chin pressed against your chest as you watched your husband eat you out. the sight alone was enough to make you come — his dark lashes resting softly against his rosy cheeks, the slick of your arousal soaking his face and shirt. you made a mental note to handle his laundry for the next few days, tending to the stain before it could ruin the delicate fabric.

with every buck and roll of your hips, Sanji began to whine into your core, his erection growing painful under the confines of his pants. but he was determined to make you finish right into his mouth. the taste of you was intoxicating, a flavor Sanji never wished to forget. he could devour you for every meal for the rest of his life and not once would he go hungry. you satisfied him, in sex, in love, in life. you were the one, tinkered to perfection just for him.

"come for me, sweetheart" Sanji begged, his fingers sliding into you once more, beckoning for your sweet release. the rhythmic pump and curl of his fingers sending you right over the edge.

your grip on his hair tightened as you brought him into you, his lips suctioning around your aching cunt as he drank you in. in the heat of your orgasm, you cleared the table entirely as you grabbed at anything to stabilize your convulsing body. a cacophony of clattering silverware and shattering ceramic filled the room, then world around you crumbling along with your resolve.

"yes! yes! yes! oh my god—" you exclaimed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clamped your thighs around Sanji's head. the force of your skin into his temples was enough to make his ears ring, a dull pain lingering under your touch. but none of that mattered. the temporary pain Sanji felt in this moment could never amount to the irritation you endured every day away from home. he would do anything to relieve you of that burden, and if suffocating him between your thighs was the way to go, he would do it a thousand times over.

the crippling realization of your actions snapped you out of your euphoria, rising to sit up as you took in the sight around you. shards of white ceramic dishes scattered across the floor, your now-dirty silverware accompanying the mess. you brought your hands to your face, hiding it out of shame.

"i'm so sorry, love. i'll clean it up," you apologized, scooting off the table. a soft hand on your shoulder stops you, Sanji's gaze a mixture of gratitude and sincerity.

"don't even worry about it," he began, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "go wash up and i'll have this all cleaned up by the time you're back!"

you sighed, relieved that after all the work he's been through today, Sanji was still willing to help you. "what did i do to deserve such a loving husband?"

Sanji smiled softly, using his free hand to push the wild strands of hair out of your face. "i've been hooked on you since the day i met you, [y/n]. all you had to do was be yourself."

sanji has worked his way into my heart and i cannot shake this beautiful man i adore him with my entire being

and yes, this inspired by that one scene from ‘don’t worry darling’. it was a calling and who am i to turn down divine intervention?

#one piece #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #straw hat pirates #x reader #straw hat crew #fanfic #scvrgrl

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cyberrose2001 · 4 hours ago

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Life in Metallic, It's Fantastic - Part 1/2

TFA Arcee x gn!human!reader x Ratchet

whoa, it's an x-reader pairing I've been wanting to write for a really long time whoa... this one is also for @robot-horde, since we both share the same desire to be a sugar baby for these two old folks. part 2 will be smut so watch out for that!

Warnings: Sugar Dating, Size Difference, Xenophillia, Alcohol Mention, Fluff

Word Count: 1,513

"Ya look lovely, sweetspark. Don't you worry about it." Ratchet stops just by the doors of the bar? Club? Who knows. All you've been told is that your partners are very well-known here. It's clear when the bouncer only gives him and Arcee a nod, but not without a curious glance towards you, allowing passage past the lineup of bots itching to get in.

"Yeah, pumpkin," Arcee loops an arm around Ratchets, tugging him closer, "If I were to place any bets, you're gonna be the prime article here tonight."

And the prime article you are. Sitting on Ratchet's shoulder closest to Arcee, you're bound to get noticed sooner or later, especially with this rather tight-fitting double-slit dress. Adorned with glittering accessories to compliment. You don't even want to know how much Shanix both forked out for you.

"You think so?" You blush, brushing your lap nervously with your hands. Suddenly, one of the seams of your dress looks really interesting, "Surely not; I'm hardly on anyone's radar in that regard. If anything, I stick out like a sore thumb."

"A sore thumb, you say?" Ratchet turns his helm with a playful look in his optics, "Kid, if there's somethin' you need to know about this place, it's that it's crammed full of bots who would pluck you from our servos and whisk you away if given a chance."

"Honey!" Arcee nudges him softly before quirking an optic ridge when he laughs. She ignores him, gently picking you up from his shoulder, "Don't worry, sweetie, that will never happen here. You're safe with us."

Your confused look is noticeable, now sitting in Arcee's comfortable servo. Surely, he was joking. In a whole club full of Cybertonians far more grand and gorgeous than you, you're finding it hard to believe that you're eye candy. You feel more like the piece of old gum stuck under somebots pede. Mildly noticeable, yet no one wants to touch it. Perhaps that's why the bouncer was looking at you weirdly. You're too... bizarre-looking.

Then again, you've become a human sugar baby for two Cybertronians. Quite famous ones at that. If anything, that would seem stranger to anyone who even thinks about this kind of interspecies relationship for even a second.

Approaching the bar, Ratchet greets the bartender and asks to open a tab. He turns to Arcee, leaning against the bar, "A drink for my sweet?"

"A quart of Visco, please, honey," Arcee looks to you, a seldom frown on her faceplate, "I'm sorry there's nothing here for you to drink, sweetspark. The bots may not discriminate, but the bar does."

"It's alright, I don't mind." You lean into her thumb, nuzzling it with your face, "I'm here with the two best partners I could ever ask for; that's all that matters."

Arcee's sympathetic frown turns into a soft grin, her thumb pressing lovingly against your cheek, "You're too cute."

"They sure are," A gruff voice comes from behind you both. Turning around, a small crowd of bots of varying shapes and sizes have formed, "For an organic. What species are they?"

You feel the blood drain from your face, mouth slightly agape as you're eyeballed head to toe with multiple sets of optics. You almost feel like looking around to double-check that they're talking to you. Arcee, who looks like she's about to secretly enjoy this, gives you another soft nudge before engaging them.

"Oh! They're a human." Arcee begins, gently curling her digits around you, "Native to Earth. Tiny 'lil planet, with equally tiny beings."

Mutters and whispers ensue between them, and you suddenly feel very tiny. They're definitely talking about you. Deciding to go non-verbal for a moment, you let Arcee converse with them, holding onto her thumb for a bit of comfort.

"Alright, here's yer visco," a familiar voice returns, making you sigh in relief as Ratchet interrupts her, handing her the glass filled with the alluring, glowing liquid. He sees the crowd of bots, a slight smirk playing on his dermas, "Excuse me for a moment, young bots."

You turn to face him. Instead, you're slightly taken aback as he leans down to your ear, "I got ya somethin' sweetspark," pulling back slightly, he presses a cold can of coke into your hands, "Hope ya like it," He then presses a quick kiss to your cheek, as you're staring down the can of coke.

"Ratchet, how-" You babble, struggling to find the words. You haven't had something as simple as a can of coke in a long time, "How did you get this?"

"I've got my ways," Ratchet stands upright again and shoots you a wink, which hits directly to your core. He turns towards the group again, eyeing off the starving bots, "Looks like we have an audience."

You turn back and see dumbfounded looks on their faceplates. Some stared in awe, and some blushed profusely. You find yourself blushing at the attention, too, taking a swig of your coke to distract yourself.

"So, Ratchet, Arcee. How'd you pick up something so cute?" A bot tilts their helm curiously, optics wandering down your figure to the slit of your dress, which has hiked itself up your thigh considerably, "If I had somethin' that pretty hanging off me, well, I'd be the happiest bot on Cybertron."

The pair of optics subconsciously causes your hands to reach for the dress; however, Ratchet nudges your hand away and fixes your dress for you, and you fight the urge to blush as his fingertips graze over your skin a bit too slowly. At that touch, he deems it's his turn to hold you and picks you up to sit on his shoulder as he rattles off your origin story, wrapping a loving arm around Arcees' waist.

"They get everything they want, don't cha Sweetspark? 'Course, there are the essential items required to please 'em, like clean water, organic food, soft furnishings, all that sorta stuff. Had ta get them imported from Earth."

The bots nod like they're taking mental notes. They ask questions about you indirectly, which makes you feel like you truly are an untouchable exotic show pet. You're still unsure about how you feel. Still, the unexpected attention and praise from these strangers, who are positively gushing over you, start to make you feel all warm and fuzzy. They're not recoiling in disgust, as you thought they would; they're genuinely intrigued and yearning for something like you. And the way Ratchet and Arcee talk about you so lovingly and carefully gives you major butterflies.

You sip your drink patiently as the conversation goes on for what seems like an hour, and eventually end up leaning on Ratchets' helm, to which the bots all immediately coo. You shy away, not entirely expecting that reaction from just leaning on Ratchet.

"Aww, just look at them! They look so cute when they're all affectionate like that."

"I have to get myself one; I bet they're nice and warm to cuddle with."

Arcee chuckles when she sees you, "Yeah, they certainly are," she gives Ratchet a knowing look, believing you to be a bit over the crowd, "Though, I think they're getting a bit tired; they're not used to this much attention all at once."

"Yeap, I think so. It's getting late, anyhow. I apologise, folks; humans need adequate rest to function properly," Ratchet scoops you up and seats you on his servo, placing your empty can on the bar. "C'mon, sweet thing, let's head home."

Both Arcee and Ratchet bid their farewells to the group of bots, who longingly wave back. Ratchet pays the tab and nods a quick thank you. He grips onto Arcees' servo as they weave through dancing patrons and drunk locals towards the exit. They nod to security, and the doors open to a cool night. Ratchet holds you a little tighter to keep you from shivering.

Contrary to what your lovers said, you weren't really that tired. You softly pat on Ratchets' chassis, and he looks down with those soft, weary optics.

"You could've stayed; you were both having a good time."

Ratchet glances at Arcee, who also smiles down at you, "Ya looked tired, didn't wanna wear you out on your first night out in Cybertron."

"Yeah, hun. Besides," Arcee moves in to pinch your cheek softly, to which you giggle softly, "All that talk of your squishiness really made me wanna get out of there and love all up on you."

You flutter your eyes shut as you feel Ratchet pet and ruffle your hair with his thumb. You can't believe how lucky you are. To be on a foreign planet where the epitome of beauty is chrome, you feel like gold. To have two wonderful and loving partners who love you for who you are, even when you feel so small, who treat you right when no one else would. You've certainly hit the jackpot in life, and nothing could convince you otherwise. You smile warmly to yourself, leaning into his chassis as they begin their stroll towards home.

#and yes reader wears a dress because i absolutely believe cybertronians dont conform to our standards of gender #transformers x reader #transformers animated x reader #tfa x reader #tfa ratchet x reader #tfa arcee x reader #tfa ratchet x reader x arcee #human reader #fluff #cyberrosewrites

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cleameur · 1 day ago

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are you guys normal or do you also think about how likely it is that, in those early days after the fire, clea wondered whether or not her mother would have ever gone to the same desperate lengths if she'd been the one dead instead of verso? would aline have seized one of clea's many canvases and lost herself in make-believe the same way? i've mentioned before that i interpret their relationship as already being strained to some extent. with that context in mind, i can envision her having some doubts and insecurities about this, even if they’re not necessarily rooted in reality.

in a similar vein, one of the saddest hcs i've ever thought up is that clea organised and attended verso's funeral all by herself, given that her parents were otherwise occupied in the canvas and alicia would've still been receiving medical treatment for her burns. just another burden that would've fallen to her, as most things seem to do. she would have kept it relatively small and private, possibly due to the risks associated with the ongoing conflict with the writers. this may not have much basis in canon since we don't exactly know how the time dilation in the canvas transfers to the real world. however, the cutscene in verso's ending doesn’t read as a funeral to me, but rather as the first time the dessendres are visiting his grave together, as a family.

#ha ha... it's sad c.lea hours i fear #eldest daughter syndrome going hard in this post #* ⠀ … ⠀ ( headcanons. ) ⠀ ˊˎ-#coe33 spoilers /#clair obscur spoilers /#expedition 33 spoilers /

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perfectlyfinespacebacon · 3 days ago

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ginny and georgia s3 wrap-up!!

they actually made this season compelling im actually gagged. and made me hate max a whooooooole lot less. which im honestly surprised.

SPOILERSSSS

i want to start out and say as someone who watched degrassi growing up, this show is collecting them like pokemons. the pool of working canadian actors especially in toronto is small but like is it this small?? i saw abby's dad's new gf and im like oh another one!

the mang friendship is soooooo interesting because ive had that exact friendship before. i've been max and ive been abby/ginny/norah. it sucks to be on either side because no one is having a good time. i'm happy ginny x abby friendship stayed thriving. you can see abby is capable of being a good non-toxic friend and i think she just has so much built up resentment about max. i do support max's want to just communicate but i also think its fair for ginny or abby to be like "im not mad but the friendship might not be what you want it to be". female friendships are hard no matter your age!!

and max was going through it this season worrying about marcus! she was worried and told people but everyone just brushed her off as being dramatic and so when she threw it back at ginny and abby at the end of the season, i was like fair enough. they actually gave max a compelling arc, so bravo. i do hope there is some resolution to their friendship but for the love of god DON'T MAKE MAX ANNOYING AGAIN!

i also loove the marcus x abby friendship! but i hate the parallels that were paralleling lol. i hope abby gets the help she needs before it gets any worse. sam too for that matter.

also i knew abby was going to be a girl kisser this season because i had an inside scoop but i didn't know it was going to play out like this!! honestly the sam storyline came and went so fast it made me have whiplash. one minute sam's like "i always had a crush on you" and it basically is never mentioned or alluded to for the rest of the season. im interested to see if sam x abby will play out next season or it will be continuing the tris x abby relationship. though apparently the actor who plays tris is like 34... they still look young but if another 2 years go by for season 4...idk we'll also have all the "juniors" be closer to 30 than they are 20...

unpopular opinion maybe but i am a little sad the press redemption was not a thing but like also fuck boys, we don't need them to make ourselves feel better.

and finally, joe and georgia!!! fucking finally!!!!!!!

#ginny and georgia #ginny & georgia s3 #ginny & georgia #ginny miller #maxine baker #abby littman #georgia miller

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baconcolacan · 7 months ago

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ColaLosers vs TomTord: Different Fonts - Same Font Family [short essay]

ColaLosers is rivals-to-lovers and TomTord is enemies-to-lovers. That’s the main talking point of this post. I could end this here, but I really REALLY want to gab about them so indulge me.

It’s probably obvious by now but I’m such an avid fan of the rivals-to-lovers and enemies-to-lovers trope, and yes, I do differentiate the two, but I also think they share an umbrella under the ‘antagonistic’ branch of the relationship types. They’re in the same family, but not exactly the same thing. To me, they are very closely tied to each other but only in a way that they can be viewed as two sides of the same coin, except one side is a bit shinier than the other.

Moving that pretentious preamble aside, this whole yapping session is just me explaining how I personally see ColaLosers and TomTord’s relationships, so buckle down a bit and listen to me over analyze two fictional fanon gay relationships.

Like I said above, there is a lot of overlap in how their relationships are portrayed by the fandom, but I really do think there’s a fundamental difference between the two with regards to the people who are involved in them. Now I’ll be very very subjective about this, because I know that my opinion isn’t shared by the fandom collective, we aren’t a monolith, so take whatever I say next as a personal take and doesn’t reflect everybody’s interpretations, even if I might sound like I’m preaching gospel truth with how I word things.

My opinion is formed by most of what I consumed from eddsworld [of course. i.e. eddisodes and comics] plus whatever crumbs we have of Tord [of course] so it might not even be accurate but like I said; this is the musings of a queer man over analyzing fictional fanon gay relationships.

So, ColaLosers, to me in the fandom they’re very peak rivals-to-lovers. Eduardo does have some unaddressed grievances with Edd, which drives a lot of his actions against him, but all in all, this really just comes out to a competitive drive that he cultivates between the two of them. While yes, he doesn’t like Edd for upstaging him in their past, and quite possibly giving him a minor trauma and inferiority complex, his reaction to him would at most be resentment and at the least irritation.

It doesn’t mean his negative feelings towards Edd is light of course, but his way to go about it is to create competition when he finds opportunity, albeit a little unfair as he doesn’t inform Edd about them, but sometimes he does, like when they both agree to art competitions or when he gives Edd the chance to one up him if he can. See hammer and fail, though he’s very mocking about it and makes a spectacle out of the situation, but we can argue that he’s trying to recreate his minor trauma to make Edd feel what he felt in that moment.

Eduardo, while petty and catty, really just wants to facilitate competition with Edd, partially to prove that he can be at the same level as him or more [mostly more], and he has shown that he’s able to show care about Edd [see PowerEdd] and would rather have them settle their score one-to-one without much outside interference.

In a ColaLosers lens, you can see this as him wanting to have Edd’s full attention focused solely on him, he isn’t looking for approval from people around them, though he may have once wanted that, he’s looking to have Edd’s acknowledgement, someone who everybody seemed to love on principle. Every time he does something, or accomplishes something, who does he tell first? Edd. If he could have his approval, it was more than enough, worth more than enough.

On Edd’s side, the relationship feels like something that drives him to be better. Usually, Edd doesn’t seem to mind the world around him, or what other people think or are doing, while he does have a penchant for competition, it’s mostly on the average level where he strives to prove that he can win it, like most people might when finding themselves in a competitive environment.

When it comes to Eduardo though, he seems to take it a lot more seriously. It might have started out as mild irritation, but Eduardo’s insistence to take his first place, and not a first place, has made him more inclined to defend his position with gusto rather than to prove something, because usually he has nothing to prove, why should he? It usually goes his way, woopie! And if it doesn’t? Who cares? It was dumb anyway.

But with Eduardo, ooh, a point lost to Eduardo would incense him.

Eduardo seems to be the only person who can push his buttons and fuel his drive, usually Edd’s the one who does the gloating, but Eduardo targets him specifically and that just drives him up the wall.

I like characterizing Edd as someone who has a subtle MC syndrome [lmao], and Eduardo is the only person to rip him from his fantasy that the world revolves around him [double lmao. EDDSworld], and that his spotlight could very easily be taken if he isn’t doing his best to defend it.

So yes, ColaLosers, they have an antagonistic relationship, but they aren’t praying for each others’ downfalls, not genuinely at least, and they foster the relationship through competitions and verbal jabbing.

I feel like Edd and Eduardo already know the kind of people they are, while there is room for growth, they’re sure of their positions in life, which makes their relationship already grounded on sure footing, the only thing left for them to do is to learn how to stop stepping on each others’ toes when they dance to their respective songs. They aren’t opposites, in fact, I would say that they’re very similar to each other [lol]. It would be easy for them to compromise, even if their egos don’t outwardly let them or show it. Plus, they might even enjoy their little back and forths.

Now, TomTord, ough good god, this ship is the death of me. I have been obsessed with this dynamic for such a long time, especially since I’m a fan of opposites attracting. Unlike ColaLosers however, they are the enemies-to-lovers ship, and I do mean enemies.

Tom and Tord have never seen eye to eye, they might have started as rivals, but they are unable to fully reign themselves in before they take it too far, unlike how I view what Edd and Eduardo do. Sure the latter can cause some damage to each other, but it doesn’t seem to become as lasting and bitter than when the former do it.

To be honest, I think Tord was the one to try and start a ‘friendly’ rivalry with Tom, but he wasn’t good at reading the kind of person that Tom was as they grew together. Seeing as Edd was his best friend, he might have mistakenly tried to carry over his friendship with Edd, into whatever relationship he was trying to foster with Tom. Edd is much more cavalier about things than Tom is, as despite acting like he doesn’t care, Tom is a very emotional person who’s just good at hiding away his feelings when he’s hurt. Tord could have mistakenly thought that Tom could handle what he dishes out, but Tom instead got hurt and started to harbor a growing resentment for him that was seeded by very negative feelings.

Tom is also known to lash out angrily, so it would be no surprise if Tord and he got into a very bad altercation, it might not even be physical, just really bad, where you know that hurtful, personal, and threatening things may have been said.

I genuinely think that, despite growing up together, Tom and Tord didn’t give each other time to understand the kind of persons they were, not caring enough to get to know each other on a deeper level and instead making assumptions about each other, and with Tom being very quick to anger and retaliate, and Tord perhaps taking things too personally and refusing to back down, their irritation with each other could very well become openly hostile as the years go by.

They do not know how to compromise.

Tom doesn’t care [at least when it comes to Tord], and Tord doesn’t want to learn.

They’re both convinced that the other is a straight-a douchebag. Tom thinks Tord is self-centered and grossly, maliciously, petty, and any positive thing about him, be it his devil-may-care attitude or extroverted tendencies, is extremely overshadowed by his flaws. Meanwhile Tord thinks Tom is an angry asshole who gets ticked off at every minor thing, although Tord acknowledges that Tom is smart and can truly get in his way if he really put an effort into it, which to be honest, is somewhat of a backhanded compliment considering he thinks he puts his emotions first before logic.

They both have very strong personalities, but their selfishness and self-centered mentalities gets in the way of good personal growth, they both have a lot of issues as far as I can tell. Relationship-wise, they have already shown each other the worst of themselves, and would keep to their hostile relationship if they aren’t willing to disregard their preconceived notions.

I think, really, that any relationship they could start at this stage would purely stem from rage, and would most likely only be physical at the start [emotions are high, and loathing feels very similar to love on a physiological level], it won’t be a very good relationship as neither party is willing to compromise. It’s a doomed relationship, even from the very beginning.

To be honest, they need time apart, so Tord leaving could be a blessing in disguise, their [lets face it] obsession with each other is distracting them from their own personal growth, and becoming a healthier person requires a lot of vulnerability and ‘softness’ that they would refuse to show each other or would find shame in. Without a distracting outlet in their lives [i.e. them antagonizing each other], they would be forced to face the negativities about themselves without fully taking it out on someone else like they are wont to do with each other.

I think they both have the potential to compliment each other [be it good or bad depending on who you ask] but they need time and space to figure out who they are first before trying any sort of relationship with each other, they need to address their own issues before a good and healthy relationship can form. And with their old perspectives on each other, they would be very pleasantly surprised to discover the person behind all that negative light, and find that, well, he could be someone who could understand them, as they had already seen them at their worst.

I find it endearing for love to bloom when the other person had already seen your ugly parts, and slowly get to know the good in you, it’s very easy to fall in love with someone you already feel so strongly about, only to find that they aren’t as bad as you think, especially when it all stems from a misunderstanding, like I believe TomTord to be.

Also, its funny when they get together and be the cattiest fucking gay couple you know, they’ll be gossiping about everybody and be totally vile about it, but what does that matter to them? They’re both assholes, and they love each other, the outside world doesn’t exist to them, they live in their bubble and can be horrible together if they so wished. What’s a more devoted action than pressing the nuke button on everyone together? Date night would be a blast.

Anyway, that’s it I think, thanks for listening, this was awful, goodnight.

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overthinkinglotr · 6 months ago

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It's ironic how a major part of Lord of the Rings is that storytellers always overlook hobbits in their legends because their simple lives are "less important" than the lives of Great Royals & Grand Warriors--- since that's ultimately been reflected in the current state of the Tolkien franchise itself! After the LOTR films, big-budget Tolkien franchise installments (and copycats) overwhelmingly focus on their Aragorn analogues, with hobbit-like characters shoved to the sidelines. The Lord of the Rings films may be flawed, but they succeeded because they had a strong central story-- the relationship between Frodo and Sam, and the fairytale-themes about small overlooked people who save the day while the villains are distracted by Great Heroes from Noble Bloodlines, are what give the story the deep lasting emotional impact that it has. But the franchise(tm) quickly decided that the royal warrior elves/men were the far more exciting marketable characters, and their battle skills could allow for more flashy spectacle. The Hobbit films gradually focused more heavily on the warrior characters, with Bilbo being a glorified extra by the last movie; The Amazon LOTR show focuses on a noble warrior elf of royal blood as its main character and political intrigue among the royalty of different kingdoms as its main plot; the recent animated film focuses on a noble hero of royal blood involved in epic battles. I've mentioned before that it's fascinating how all the new "Tolkien franchise" installments (as well as media inspired by LOTR) continue to center their stories on the Aragorn archetype-- a Destined Noble Hero/Warrior from a Royal Bloodline etc etc. The entire premise of Lord of the Rings is that Aragorn represents the hero of a typical generic fantasy epic, while the ordinary Hobbits are the heroes of this one. Aragorn is interesting not in spite of the fact that he is a side character, but because of it. If he were the central character of the story, Lord of the Rings would be very bland and generic. "Let's do a new version of Lord of the Rings but focus on powerful grand royal hero characters instead" is a lot like saying "let's do a retelling of Wicked from Dorothy's point of view." It's like, "congrats! you've successfully reinvented the exact type of story the original writer was commenting on and subverting." XD

#lord of the rings #lotr #anyway.#the hobbit #overthinkinglotr

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purinfelix · 2 months ago

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constellation - n. riki ✶⋆.˚

summary: a late night, sleepy half-formed thoughts and quiet touches ──────── Niki x reader (established relationship) || sfw, super duper fluffy and wholesome idk im in my feels || w/c: 1k

a/n: GUESS WHOS BACK (no one remembers me) ... anyways i was rewatching the colour analysis enoclock ep and heeseung mentioned Ni-ki's seven moles on his back and i just thought it was such an endearing feature i wanted to write smth about it !!!

"You've got a lot of moles on your back."

You're not even sure why you say it, and it's only once the words leave your mouth that you realise it's a bit of an odd thing to point out. To be fair, though, it's starting to become one of those nights when you're so sleepy that you can't bother filtering your thoughts. Niki turns to look at you, halfway through pulling on a shirt, and even though his brows are raised, you can tell he isn't entirely surprised by your words.

"Oh, yeah," he says calmly, "you've never noticed before?"

"Hm, I've seen them but," you hum, lazily letting your head fall back onto the bed where you're lying, watching him, "it just never occurred to me how many you have."

He laughs softly, pulling his shirt over his head, and soon you feel the mattress dip beside you as he sinks into it. You instinctively shuffle over to make room for him, but Niki, always wanting to be closer to you, finds his way right up against you - his arm brushing up against yours.

"Hey," you mumble, turning to watch as he lifts his face from the pillow, "let me see them again." The way you ask is almost childish, but even through your half-lidded eyes, you can see how he's a little taken aback by your request.

"The moles?"

"What else, dummy?" you scoff, stifling a yawn. Despite your jab he does as you say, tugging the hem of his shirt up so that you can see his back again.

Even though the room is dim, you can make them out just clear enough - small and dark against the pale skin of his back. There's something so quietly beautiful about them and the fact that not many other people would get to see them up close the way you are right now.

Maybe it's that realisation of how vulnerable he's letting himself be around you that pushes your hand out to press a gentle finger to the one highest on his back, just above his shoulder blade. He tenses slightly, clearly not expecting your touch, but soon calms.

"They're like stars," you say, barely above a whisper.

Normally, and if it were with anyone else, Niki probably would've protested, laughed and told them that they were overthinking things. But in this low light, in this bed with you and with the feeling of sleep pulling at his eyelids, he can't find the heart, or energy, to say anything to spoil this moment.

"I guess so," he hums back, but once he feels your finger begin to move, tracing a shape on his back, he can't help but let out a quiet laugh. "What are you doing now?"

"Making a constellation," you say, in such a matter-of-fact tone that Niki finds himself unable to say anything more - he just resigns himself to feeling the sensation of your finger against his back, slow and steady, almost soothing.

"They're pretty," you say once you've finished your path, satisfying your curiosity and gently pulling his shirt back down. You flop back onto the bed next to him, watching as he turns to face you, cheeks flushed the slightest shade of pink.

"You know they say that your moles are where your past lover kissed you the most," you hum, and he just laughs softly.

"You really believe that kind of stuff?"

You make an effort to shrug, as if to say why not? Silently, you pull your hands out from under the covers and cradle his face gently, tracing your thumb over his features like you have so many times. You stop a couple of times - at the mole on his chin, under his eyes, on his cheek.

"You must've been really loved in your past life," you whisper, and like everything you've said that night you're not sure why you say it. Still, you can feel his gaze on you, soft and with an endearment you know he reserves only for you.

"You think so?" he says, finally breaking the silence.

You nod ever so slightly, fingers still resting on his cheekbone. "You must've been lucky."

He brings his hand up to grab yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a motion that feels so familiar now that it almost feels instinctive. With his other hand, he pulls you closer, pressing his forehead to you - the entire time his eyes never failing to meet yours despite the vulnerability in his expression.

"I think," he whispers, "I still am."

It's your turn to scoff at his somewhat cheesy response, but the sound is quickly swallowed up by his lips meeting yours - soft and sure, like he's been waiting the entire night for this moment and now that it's here, he clearly has no intentions of rushing it. Your fingers tighten in his as you sigh into the kiss, even after months of being together you're not sure if you'll ever get used to the feeling of him taking your breath away.

When you finally pull apart, you only do so enough to catch your breath, which you're sure Niki can feel on his face.

"You're so weird sometimes," he finally says, a lazy smile hanging off of his lips.

"You love it," you whisper back, pressing your nose to his as you let out a soft giggle.

He only chuckles in response, though it's enough for you. Silently, and still with his hand tightly gripping yours, he pulls you in closer so that your head is tucked under his chin, the blankets wrapped around the two of you. Gently, his thumb brushes over the stretch of your hand with a steady rhythm that lulls you to sleep and before you realise it, your eyes are half closed.

You shuffle, pressing your face further into his neck. The last thing you hear before drifting of is his voice again, though with how quiet he says it you're not sure if he's talking to you, himself, or the universe.

"I’m glad it’s you."

And even if he feels you smile against his chest in response, he doesn't say anything — just holds you tighter, like he never plans to let go.

taglist (for niki fics! <3) @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

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onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 2 months ago

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You’re a Yapper | One Piece HC

As a fellow yapper, this felt necessary. Ive been thinking about expanding this to include a few additional characters, but for now, here's what I've got!

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd

Tags: GN!Reader, no specific relationship mention, could be prerelationship

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

LUFFY

Luffy didn’t even really notice it at first. Honestly, he’s a bit of a yapper himself.

If you get excited and start yapping about something, he’ll match you almost every step of the way.

It’s the passion in your voice that really gets him.

When he starts to really realize how yappy you are, though, is when it’s topics that don’t interest him.

He’ll still listen. Well, mostly. Kind of. Not really. This is Luffy we’re talking about.

But you’ll just keep droning on and on and on.

Luffy will just stand there, picking his nose, unsure of what’s even happening right now.

One time, he just outright laughed.

”You’re funny. Why do ya talk so much, anyway?”

You’re floored. Face, beat red. Eyes, wide. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, he grins at you.

”It’s fine, let’s just talk about somethin’ else!”

You didn't even have time to be mad. Because, right away, a boisterous laugh left Luffy at the expression on your face.

From that point on, you took any of those comments in stride and made sure to talk about things that excited Luffy, too.

And for Luffy’s part? He’s content to just tease you and watch the way your face scrunches. For totally platonic reasons, of course.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

ZORO

At first, Zoro didn't know what to think about it.

He’s used to people just talking to him. He swears he doesn’t have one of those faces - he’s made himself relatively unapproachable.

When you’re stoic and quiet like he is, though, people just seem to talk to you.

Luffy, Nami, Usopp - the whole ship is full of yappers.

And it's not like he really minds it. Sometimes it's interesting, and when he's in the mood for it, he has a good time engaging or making jokes.

It’s when he notices how you just don’t stop that he realizes this might be a problem.

He doesn’t always hate it. Quite honestly, he’ll easily fall asleep to it, and you don’t seem to mind.

It’s just sometimes when he’s already feeling exhausted from a workout that it can be a bit…grating.

”You just don’t shut up, do you?”

You were babbling about something - some kind of story, Zoro wasn't paying attention. He was trying to take a nap on the deck when you had just started, so the words slipped out of him faster than he meant.

That shut you right up, leaving Zoro feeling way more guilty than he anticipated it would.

He was expecting some sort of snappy comment, some sort of argument, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected of you. But you just went silent. And walked away.

Yeah, he was regretting it almost immediately.

Why would it matter, though? He’d get what he wanted - some peace and quiet, a chance to finally take a real nap on the deck again without any interruptions. No more training sessions interrupted with constant blabbering. Being left alone to his saké while the rest of the crew yapped and he could listen in.

But he found himself missing the way you’d sit next to him and how excited your voice would sound the few times he’d actually listen. He missed the way your eyes lit up when he’d give you a small nod of acknowledgment, and the way you beamed in delight whenever he’d follow it up with a hum or a question.

He eventually, very reluctantly, apologized.

“Yeah, you still talk too much, but it’s fine. Kinda missed hearing it.”

The moment you forgave him for snapping on you, he was more relieved than he thought he’d be to hear you rambling to him again.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

SANJI

Sanji was floored when you first started rambling to him. One - because you chose to rant to him. Two - because you just talk so much.

It wasn’t an issue. Not at all. In fact, it helped break up the day when he’d be busy around the kitchen.

He’d love if you just sat in a chair peeling potatoes while talking to him all day long. About anything and everything, really.

The sound of your voice is like a chime to him, as pretty as you are, and he’s happy to be given the privilege to listen to it.

He’s happy to engage. He’ll ask questions, add comments of his own.

Even if he wasn’t already completely enamored with your presence, he had already decided that having you here talking about whatever inane crap came to your head was better than him being alone.

He smokes a cigarette, taking small breaks to lean against the counter and just listen to you. Honestly, sometimes in amazement. It was impressive how long you could talk.

One time, after a particularly long rant about how stupid one character of a book you were reading was, you offered him an apology for going on a rant.

“Sorry for talking so much, just had to get that out.” You said, and Sanji immediately shook his head and laughed.

”Are you kidding? I could listen to you talk all day, gorgeous.”

It was such an easy answer for Sanji, and after that, it stuck with you every time you decided to waltz into his kitchen for another yap session.

He'd always have your favorite drink and snack at the ready!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

LAW

When you first joined the crew, Law wasn’t worried about everyone getting along with you.

You seemed friendly enough. Chatty, maybe, but that just meant you’d fit right in with everyone else on the sub. Their personalities were far more vibrant than Law considered his own to be, and that’s how he preferred it.

It’s in the few first times that he was cornered by you that he fully realized just how relentlessly chatty you were. And you had selected him to be your regular target.

You were rambling. Ranting. Droning on and on about something that he was listening to and absorbing, but wasn’t necessarily interested in.

He replied politely, though, for the most part. Nodding, humming, giving small comments occasionally. He didn’t have a reason not to, and he was in a good enough mood.

For a while, he was okay with being mostly quiet just to let you get it out of your system.

It was only the fourth or fifth time that you were yapping to him over dinner that he finally interrupted.

“You always talk this much?”

He really didn’t mean it as an insult. Granted, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about having you talk his ear off while he’s eating, but he wasn’t necessarily bothered by it. It was just…regular annoying.

Yes, he’s ranked how annoying something is on a scale before. It helps him when dealing with people.

When he realized he messed up, he didn’t really know how to recover it from there.

You’d still talk, of course, but you stopped cornering him. You droned on to Bepo or Ikkaku instead. For some reason, that didn't sit right with the surgeon.

So, the next time you were alone together, he just kind of started talking to you. About something random he remembered you talking about. He still didn’t fully get it.

That started you up again, and if you weren’t so busy gesticulating with your hands and explaining whatever the hell you were explaining, you might have been able to see him smirk.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

KIDD

The Victoria Punk was no stranger to loud, booming voices. It goes without saying that some of the most boastful remarks came from the Captain himself.

When you joined the crew, it seemed nearly seamless. Some growing pains here and there, but overall, you'd proven to be a strong and capable crewmate.

The only thing, Kidd learned, is that you never shut the fuck up.

Whether it was excitedly recalling a battle you'd been a part of, showing off your weapons or abilities, or even just talking about the damn news.

You always had input, and it had slowly begun to grate on the Captain's nerves.

It was during one particular day at port where you were rambling about - oh, who knows? It was incessant. And Kidd was wanting to address the crew.

“Would you shut the hell up?”

He noticed the way you bristled, your face scrunched, but you said…nothing.

Thank god, you finally seemed to stop.

But you didn't start back up. At all.

This went on for a few days, and somehow the silence was as annoying for Kidd as the talking. Maybe even more.

Where the hell did that sweet voice go? The nonstop chatter about the new island or the mission? The bragging about how you'd taken down a Marine, something he noticed and nearly pointed out himself?

He cornered you on the deck the morning before you set sail, finally having had enough. Again.

“The silent treatment, you damn brat? You'd better start being a chatterbox again before I kick your ass.”

Yeah, you rub it in his face from that day on.

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hexlenx · 7 months ago

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Could you do a story where Sergei is tough, but also overprotective of the protagonist, pls?

I love your stories

A/N: ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. I am so glad you requested this because lately I've been obsessed with sergei and have been thinking of a way to make a small fic about his toxic self so you requesting this gave me an idea! Thank you so much anon! It might be a little different from your request though but the tough part as well as overprotectiveness is still there, just more dark themes. I hope you don't mind that though, I just feel like it fits more with his character.

YOU'RE MINE, ALRIGHT? — sergei kravinoff

note: I do not own this man because he owns himself, periodt. This is made purely out of entertainment purposes!

warning!: violence, age-gap, (somewhat) toxic relationship, little blood, swearing, sexual harassment, mentions of death, 18+, and sergei being hot (man is a warning himself) mdni

__________________

You were only taking your nightly stroll in the forest while your lover was in the cabin somewhere in the woods that he made you move in after knowing each other for a while. Your relationship with him was not really ideal but you loved him with all your heart and vice versa.

Your lover might not show it but he cares about you more than he let on. It worried you for quite some time now that maybe you weren't good enough for him, you refused to do such things that he called 'the hunt'. You weren't prepared to do something so unnerving. Surprisingly, he agreed to let you prepare after a bit of arguing and silent treatments of course. Still, you thought that he might leave you because you have never done anything for him other than sit still and be pretty.

But you were so wrong.

Sighing as an owl hoots through the trees and crickets sounding in your surroundings, you now began to walk towards the path to the cabin. You've basically just walked straight from here to there so it wasn't that hard to find your way back.

Noises of leaves crushing alerted you as you walked down the path. Multiple voices sounded from the right side of you but before you could hide, a bright flashlight flickered towards your figure, blinding you.

Hissing a bit from the bright light, you blinked your eyes before your vision focused to four males who looked about a couple years older than you. An ache appeared in your stomach as you felt like you had a bad feeling about the situation.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here." One of the men whistled as his eyes looked at your frame up and down.

"Quite a looker, right?" The other one on his right licked his lips in anticipation.

"Think we could use her for entertainment?" Another one from behind snickered. As if a light bulb appeared on top of their heads, their eyes lit up dangerously making you step back in fear as you heard their conversation.

No, please don't.

"Don't worry, doll. This will only last for the whole night." The man in the middle reassured but it was anything but reassuring. Before you could sprint off, one of them had already grabbed you by the arms, arms tightening around you as you continued to struggle.

Fear was evident in your eyes as tears started to prickle in them. This cannot be happening, you thought. You were a bit far from home so you couldn't scream for your lover because of the distance. You were now sobbing as the men took their time in touching you. Hands ripping off your shirt leaving you in your bra as well as your lover's boxers that you wore since you've used all of yours already.

You could feel their hands groping each part of your body before they finally decided to spread your legs. You were struggling to close it because multiple pair of hands were pinning you down to the ground next to a tall tree.

Sergei, that was the only thing you could think of.

Sergei, my love.

Sergei, please.

Save me.

"SERGEI!" You suddenly screamed out your lover's name making the men flinch from your voice.

"Fucking hell—this bitch is so loud!"

"Scream all you want, love. But no one ain't gonna hear you here." They all laughed as you kept sobbing. Why must this happen? Your bra was long forgotten as you tried to get your hands free but alas you cannot. The man between your legs then lowered his head towards one of your breasts but before he could latch on it a loud thump interrupted them.

"You dare.." A deep voice growled out as the four men stopped what they were doing. They slowly looked up and saw a very muscular man that stalked over them. His eyes glowing in a yellow serpent like color, his forearms hardening, as well as a very dark and murderous look on his face. The man menacingly stalked towards them as the men were quick to scramble up to their feet fixing their clothes before sprinting out.

The man immediately chased them and since all four were running at the same direction, he jumped high and landed in front of them to stop them from escaping.

"You dare to break and enter my forest, not only that.." He continued his words from before. Grabbing one of them by the neck he tossed him to a tree, hard. Making a sickening crack to be heard in the air, causing the others to look at the man in fear.

"You hurt what is mine."

You woke up in a familiar room and the warmth surrounding your from the fireplace. You were confused, weren't you just in the forest taking a nightly stroll while your lover was busy?

Just then your head started to ache as you remembered what happened. You hugged yourself as you now began to sob quietly, you were harassed, sexually to the point that you were ripped off your clothing. It made you feel disgusted with yourself, what would Sergei think of you now?

Footsteps sounded from behind you as you continued to wrap your arms around yourself hoping to shield yourself from the exposure from the world. Hot steaming food was suddenly placed in front of you as you blinked from surprise before looking away, not wanting to consume any food.

"Eat." It was your lover. Sergei plopped down on the spot beside you taking the spoon topped with food from the plate before putting said plate on the drawer beside the bed. He grabbed you by the chin before gently forcing you to look in his direction. This gave you no choice but to eat the food on the spoon he held up.

This continued for a few moments until you finished your food. The silence was deafening and it bothered you but it seems like your lover doesn't see that.

"I'm sorry."

Sergei paused from cleaning up the table before looking at you, confusion evident in his eyes despite his face unchanging.

"O—other men touched me..y—you probably don't want a woman like me a—anymore. I mean, I wouldn't as well.." You coarsed out as tears began to fall from your eyes as you look down in shame. You couldn't look at him in the eyes, you were so ashamed of yourself, hell even disgusted. You felt so dirty as you could still feel those men's hands all over you, tongues licking your neck, fabric tearing away from your skin. It made you feel ill.

Suddenly your face was gently pulled up letting you make eye contact with a pair of dark brown eyes that was in a fixed scowl but if you looked closely, it softened the moment you both made eye contact.

Sergei didn't know how to comfort you as growing up, all he knew was violence. But he did the only thing he knew he could do.

He kissed you.

"I'll make their hands disappear and make you remember mine, instead."

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader

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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago

Text

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark.

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

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its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It gave a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could always ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

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user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1?

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb?

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush

→ user11 revenge, hate sex

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?!

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew!

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man

sebastianvettel oh

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requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

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jinxvex · 6 months ago

Note

could u perhaps do casual dominance hcs w sevika..? :3

♱ casual dominance w/ gf!sevika headcanons!! ♱

i've been mf WAITING for this one!! it's time to get down to the biz folks... 🙈😏🤫

cw: sfw & kinda nsfw towards the end!, possessiveness, manhandling, dumbification??, curse words, touching, suggestive themes!

♱ sevika is, without a doubt, the dominant one in the relationship. that's not to say a woman can't be versatile! it's just what she prefers. the dynamic between you two is not only what makes things work well in your relationship, it makes you perfect for each other.

♱ she doesn't mind a few swear words from you here and there, but she is on it if you're beginning to pick up the habit of using them. she doesn't like her sweet girl using such filthy language! unless she's fucking it out of you. a simple "fuck! god damn it!" when you drop something has her going, "hey, watch your mouth." or "language, baby. where's my sweet girl at?"

♱ i mentioned this in another post, but she's the driver! that hand would be on your thigh, squeezing as the other rests on the steering wheel—just to let you know she's still thinking of you as you two quietly listen to music. you enjoy each other's company that way.

♱ sevika does not tolerate attitude from you. whew, girl! you'd be in for a treat if you rolled your eyes at her or gave her lip because you happened to be in one of your moods. she isn't afraid to scold you. she absolutely grabs your chin to force you to look her in the eye, "who do you think you're talking to, huh?" + "nuh-uh, baby. no."

♱ she literally picks you up by your waist to move you wherever she wants you to go (AHHH). + (think when loris was bringing vi back to her apartment when she was drunk and emo but in a hot wlw way).

♱ sevika LOVES to rub the front of your thighs when you sit on her lap, whether that be when she's gambling or at home. she doesn't even let you try and get up, you're stuck there for hours!

♱ sevika enjoys turning your brain to mush; she loves watching your eyes gloss over as she talks down to you and tells you what to do. she knows you'd do anything to be her good girl.

"hey, go hand me my cards, baby." she demands gently as you two get up from the couch, ready to venture to the last drop. she pats your ass softly before you nod and briskly rush over to where her cards rest on the kitchen table. when you return, you drop the cards into her large mech hand. your eyes peer deep into hers for confirmation that you did good. she leans in for a kiss, a kiss that deepens and lasts. as you kiss passionately, her human hand snakes up to your neck and presses down firmly before pulling away, "that's a good girl." + "mm thank you, baby. what would i do without my woman?" she smirks against your open mouth.

♱ if anyone is staring at you in public/trying to flirt with you, TRUST she's pulling you in for the sexiest, NASTIEST kiss and sticking her tongue down your throat (IN FRONT OF THEM). she makes out with you as she glares into their eyes from across the room! her eyes would be screaming, "she's mine, and if you ever look at her again, you're dead."

(i would LIKE to say she orders for both of you at a restaurant, but you'd definitely be the one going all, "yes! thank you! and she'll have the chicken salad with toasted croutons!" as she sticks her face into the menu LMAOFOOO.)

♱ for some reason, sevika does not let you pay. ever! she loves being able to take care of you—to provide for you.

"i got it this time, gorgeous." you huff and turn towards her, "you pay every time, vika!" you exclaim as she pulls you in closer to whisper into your ear, "let me take care of you, hmm?" + "just wanna give my girl the world. can i do that for you?"

♱ oh! and if you try to run when she's fucking you from behind, she IS placing her hand at the small of your back to keep you still so you can take everything she gives you! she goes, “mhm, take it. don’t run.” + “you need this, slut.” that's all!

needless to say, she loves you real bad!! 🫣

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shun-ie · 2 months ago

Text

₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝ shh . . . (kageyama tobio)

content : college!au, sex while having a phone call, belly bulge, bttm!reader, amab!reader, kageyama tobio, kageyama x reader, mentions of karasuno members, loosely follows the original plot, established relationship, lmk if i missed anything :)

shun-note : very late post. been busy with college. hope you like this one. i thought of the plot during class and it sat in the drafts for a day or more? this one's pretty rushed. i'm taking requests btw. :))

[not proofread]

during high school, it was a complete shock to the whole team when they found out about kageyama tobio's boyfriend. the setter who loved volleyball more than anything, unless it was milk. for the first two weeks they were in denial.

"that's just impossible," tanaka muttered, side-eyeing the clueless setter who was fiddling with the ball near the net, waiting for the rest of the team. nishinoya nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. he rubbed his chin and hummed.

he then snapped his fingers, "you think he's lying because he wants to seem cool like us?" he then crosses his arms, proud that he solved their so called 'mystery'. "our kouhai doesn't need to go such lengths."

kageyama gave them a once over and rolled his eyes. he really did have a boyfriend, he just wasn't ready to introduce him to his team, seeing as the latter also had other priorities. he sees yamaguchi and tsukishima step into the gym and he shook his thoughts away. he just needed to get through this practice so he could walk his boyfriend home.

"you know, my team didn't believe i had a boyfriend for almost a month back when we were in highschool," tobio muses as the memory passes through his mind. he glances up at his boyfriend, who sat prettily on the other side of the table.

y/n, who was scrolling through his shun-gram, paused. he then raised his head, "really? that's weird, i swear i've seen them pass us many times. they even saw us holding hands."

tobio laugh and shrugs his shoulders, "i know. i wonder when i'll get to meet them again." he sighs out, leaning the backrest of the booth. they were currently in a small cafe that they claimed as their hang-out spot. it was tucked away in a corner near the college campus. it was perfect. it was peaceful.

"soon babe," y/n smiles lightly, watching his boyfriend relax and absorb the warm atmosphere, getting lost in the soothing tunes that floated around the place.

tobio hugged y/n closer, snuggling into him. they were both cramped on the couch of their dorm room. the latter was asleep, tired from student body duties which included planning, purchasing, making an inventory, and setting things up for their up coming grand event. the milk loving setter noticed the signs of burnout and persuaded y/n to take a nap. but seeing his condition, he would wake the next day.

tobio sighed, his tense muscles relaxing after a day of training for their championships. they were both tired and needed this. he pulled the blanket higher before kissing y/n's hair. he then closed his eyes, body fully molded into his boyfriend's.

there were a lot of sweet moments between them. their relationship felt perfect. there were occasional disagreements, fights, and silent treatments, but this was it. a relationship they invested their time in since highschool and cultivated into a garden full of memories. this was it for them.

so when tobio finally returned, a scowl on his usually relaxed face, y/n knew something would either go right or wrong. a normal person would avoid the setter, but the (h/c)-haired male simply approached him and asked about his day.

that question led to y/n crying out as he jerked up. his dick jumps as tobio pounded into him relentlessly. the former clawed at the sheets as he came the second time, a moan flying out his swollen lips. his spine lifts off the bed as his boyfriend hugs him close.

"one more, just one more baby . . ." tobio rasps out. after a week of volleyball training and slipping on sweat on the court thrice and almost spraining his ankle, he was both pissed and stressed. why weren't they cleaning the floors properly? and why were they training them so hard when some of his teammates got the flu? it made no sense to him. sure, he was hardworking, but working his sick friends to the bone? he's sure that they'd be bedridden next week.

y/n whimpered, but locked his legs around the blue-haired man's hips, keeping his hard cock inside. "one more," he whispers out. almost immediately tobio rocks his hips and picks up the pace steadily.

he pants and grunts right beside y/n's ear as he holds him close, feeling their bodies rub against each other. he feels his boyfriend tremble from the overstimulation. he hisses as nails dig into his back. and as he sinks back into the headspace of pleasure, a shrill ring bursts their intimate bubble.

"what the fuck," he curses out, not ceasing any movement. he reaches for the phone and sits up. he checks the caller and sighs. he then looks down at his boyfriend, who was trying to look back at him through half-lidded tear filled eyes, hiccupping, panting, and moaning from being filled so good.

he presses on the green button, answering it, "hello?" he trails his free hand up y/n's stomach—feeling the bulge pressing against his palm as he slow-fucked into the heat—to his chest—tweaking a nipple—up his marked neck, before resting on the chin. he pushes two fingers into his mouth and feels y/n's tongue swirl around them. he bites his lip and holds off a groan from the sight.

y/n heaves as he sees tobio animatedly respond as if he isn't fucking so amazingly into him. his back arches as his boyfriend's cock hits his prostate head on, letting out a muffled cry. his hand slips down and grabs hold of his own neglected cock and starts stroking to double his already overstimulated pleasure.

"yeah," tobio's breath hitches hips rutting faster, feeling the coil of satisfaction, "i'll see . . ." he gulped, placing his body over y/n's once more and placing the phone right beside his head, "what i can do." his voice comes out strained as he mutes the call, taking his fingers out of y/n's mouth. "fuck. fuck. fuck." he mutters lowly, hand moving up to grab the headboard.

y/n gasps, pulling tobio closer, closing his eyes as he felt another wave of ecstasy wash over him. "t-tobi . . ." he lets out a loud moan and comes undone. his body convulses and he sees white before slumping.

with one more push, strings of cum shoots out of tobio's cock, loading into the already cum filled cavern he hasn't left for an hour. he lets out a shaky sigh and pulls out, laying beside y/n in exhaustion and relief.

"are you still there?"

tobio curses again, turning his head to y/n only to see him passed out with a face of pure bliss. he chuckles and leans in, giving him a sweet peck on the cheek. he then takes the phone and unmutes it, "yeah, sorry. i was occupied with something." he gets up and heads to the bathroom, in search of a cloth.

"hold on, let me just make sure y/n's comfortable."

#shun-ie #male reader #fanfic #fiction #amab reader #male reader smut #anime #bottom male reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #haikyuu tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #college au

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pedgito · 2 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

part three– summary | Over time and through challenges, you find a way to settle in Jackson with Joel.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, established relationship, takes place over a longer stretch of time (two years), graphic depictions of violence, angst, fluff, there's a lot of tender moments sprinkled throughout, reader's progression into her own self, mentions of sa and coercion, trauma, joel triggering some ptsd for reader, tender smut (slight somnophilia) mentions of reader's scars (though mostly vague), ending is foreshadowing (if you get it, you get it)

author's note | this was very cathartic to write, i've had this entire thing outlined for over a year and like 80% finished so a lot of time i've just spent editing and procrastinating over plot points. i originally intended for this to end very, VERY grim. but, the ending i went with is more fitting. also thank you to anyone who's taking the time to read this or has told me they relate to this story and have found comfort in it, i love you!

word count —10k

PART ONE — PART TWO — SERIES MASTERLIST

The entire situation made you uneasy.

“So, do you have a name?” Ellie asks curiously, shoveling a piece of food into her mouth, “I mean, Joel always calls you the kid or the girl—you know, he did that to me for a while, but I grew on him,”

She smiles around her food, her authenticity wholly her own.

You knew Ellie through small moments, coming and going, not seeing her much around Joel’s house as she was obviously settled into her own and spent most of her time with Dina or Jesse.

“Ellie,” Joel admonishes, “stop yapping and eat,”

“You are no fun,” Ellie says pointedly at Joel, stabbing a fork into the pile of food on her plate.

You sat beside Joel, your hands resting on your lap, eyes scanning the table. It felt strange to be here like this, in a place so domestic. Alive. Maria balances Benjamin on her hip in the kitchen as she and Tommy conversed quietly over the few sides still finishing up.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tommy either—it was just the overwhelming weight of the unspoken, how his eyes couldn’t stop lingering on you and Joel.

It was the way Joel always seemed to know where you were, what you needed, even before you did. It had always been like that, but tonight, it felt more pronounced than ever.

He’s moving for things before you even make a motion to ask, handing them to you without a word, a hand curling over your thigh in silence when Tommy drops a pot on the floor, startling you and baby Ben in Maria’s arms, knowing instantly how to calm you. You were like a unit, moving as one, and Tommy could clock it from a mile away.

Once everyone had finally settled at the table Tommy clanked his spoon against his bowl, his voice cutting through the quiet. “So, how’ve things been for everyone? Ain’t been much talk from Joel lately. Ellie? Everything good?”

Joel grunted in response, a low, almost reluctant sound as he forked a piece of meat.

He didn’t meet Tommy’s eyes, but his posture was rigid, almost protective, as if keeping a silent barrier between you and the world around you.

It had been a full six months since you settled into Jackson, spring on the horizon, it would be a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold and piles of thick snow.

Ellie gives a short version, cliff notes, too busy eating to put any real effort into the conversation.

“I dunno why he’s askin’ to do dinner,” Joel had admitted earlier that day, “ain’t like him.”

Most of them saw each other daily, it seemed pointless.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, his hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully but nonchalant.

He noticed how Joel had placed his chair slightly closer to yours than usual, a casual closeness that seemed almost unnatural given Joel’s opposition to people and touch. You weren’t sure if Tommy had caught on, but his eyes lingered on the two of you for a moment longer than comfortable.

This wasn’t the pair he had dismissed the night you were found, something had changed.

The fire in the hearth cracked loudly, filling the room with a dull warmth that did little to ease the tension settling in your chest. The scent of stew hung in the air, thick and comforting, but your stomach churned at the thought of eating. You weren’t used to this—family dinners, warm lighting, the sound of silverware scraping against ceramic.

It was too normal.

Too exposed.

Tommy hadn’t seen much of Joel these past months outside of patrol and meetings. Not since he’d asked him to keep an eye on you—to help you adjust, to give you someone steady to rely on. He hadn’t expected Joel to isolate with you completely. And now, sitting across from the two of you, something felt off.

Tommy cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Didn’t think I’d be seein’ you two at my table tonight, s’been a while.”

Joel barely looked up at Tommy, “Figured we should.”

Tommy let out a small chuckle, “What, outta obligation?”

Joel’s jaw twitched, “Somethin’ like that.”

Your eyes flicker between the two, quiet as you eat.

Tommy turned his attention to you, “How’s it been? You settlin’ in alright?”

You didn’t answer audibly, not that he expected you to.

“She’s fine,” Joel said, voice even as he answers for you.

Tommy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That right?”

Joel didn’t acknowledge the shift in Tommy’s tone.

Tommy leaned back, watching the way Joel subtly angled his body toward you—protective, like he was ready to shield you from something that wasn’t even there. Instinctual.

“Joel says you’ve been doin’ well with patrol,” Tommy turns his attention toward you suddenly, ignoring Joel entirely, “you feelin’ comfortable with all of it?”

Surprisingly, you nod, though your eyes ultimately flicker toward Joel who’s staring down Tommy from across the table, quickly catching onto Tommy’s behavior.

Ellie suddenly stood, pushing her bowl away. “I’m gonna—yeah, I’m done eating,” She grabbed her plate and left the room without another word. Smart kid. She knew when to leave.

Maria leaves eventually too, tending to Benjamin as she ascends the stairs and leaves the three of you in a standoff. The rest of the dinner passed in heavy silence. You barely touched your food. Joel barely let his guard down. And Tommy barely took his eyes off the two of you.

It wasn’t until after the dishes were being cleared that Tommy saw his opening.

“Joel,” he said casually, “help me with somethin’ outside.”

Joel hesitated, glancing toward you. You gave him the smallest nod. He exhaled through his nose and followed Tommy out onto the porch without a word. The moment the door shut behind them, Tommy turned.

“What the hell is goin’ on?”

“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on,” Joel stiffens, standing toe to toe with his brother who lowered his volume to a hushed tone.

You focused on their voices, the house having fallen quiet.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Joel,” Tommy retorts, “Is she…should we be worried about her?”

Oh, so he thinks you were taking advantage of Joel—either assumption couldn’t be further from the truth, but it does startle you, wondering how deceptive you looked to Tommy despite how welcoming he had been toward you in the beginning.

“She’s harmless,” Joel responds, “What—suddenly you’re worried about her? You stuck her with me, made her my responsibility, and now you’re worried? What? ‘Cause I’m doin’ what you asked?”

Tommy scoffed, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, “She’s been here six months and she hasn’t branched out at all. Not once.”

Joel’s expression darkened. “She doesn't like people. I don’t blame her.”

“Or maybe she just doesn't have a choice,” Tommy tries it, bucking up to Joel and flipping the switch, throwing the harsh accusation at his brother.

It landed. A flicker of something passed over Joel’s face, but it was gone just as quick.

Tommy took a step forward, lowering his voice. “I put her with you to help her. To give her some stability until she could fair on her own. I didn’t put her with you to keep her locked away.”

Joel’s jaw tightened. “She’s safe with me. And free to leave whenever, s’not my fault if she doesn’t want to—maybe you’ll think twice before takin’ people in because you got a good heart,” by his tone you can tell he’s trying to take a dig, “if you wanna blame anyone, blame yourself.”

Tommy shook his head.

“That what you tell yourself?”

The blame wasn’t on anyone, really.

You weren’t sure what Tommy’s angle was or if he was just worried for Joel in a weird, roundabout way.

“I think whatever is goin’ on between you two ain’t healthy—to what extent I don’t even wanna fuckin’ know, there’s a point where we gotta hope she can manage on her own,”

Joel’s expression didn’t change.

But, something in his posture did.

Tommy let out a tired sigh, defeated, “Just... think about what you’re doin’, Joel.”

When Joel finally came back in, his eyes found yours immediately.

You searched his face, looking for something—anything—to tell you what he was thinking.

He didn’t say a word.

But when he reached for you, you reached for him.

That’s what you always did.

And maybe that was the problem.

–

You’ve come to cherish the time you spend in Joel’s bed outside of sex.

After almost a year in Jackson, there are moments when things truly feel normal.

As expected, Joel does most of the talking. And to his effort, he tries to get you to speak up, but you often can’t find the courage outside of the intimate moments when he’s holding you close, mouth pressed against your skin as he buries himself inside of you.

“You really ain’t got a name?” Joel asks as he scrolls through a crossword, glasses perched on his nose in a way that felt scarily domestic, remembering Ellie’s earlier question. You scribble on the edge of the crossword, leaving a trace of yourself.

I don’t even know my parents.

You had no real identity, Joel has come to realize.

No sense of self or claim over your body and thoughts, years spent serving as nothing more than a device to be taken apart and used against your will, expected to obey.

Some of them did it purely out of fear and self-preservation, but for you, the opportunity to live a life outside of that place was more important and something you were willing to die trying for.

Still, old habits die hard.

You were trying to find the courage to speak to him in these quieter moments, making small noises when he would ask questions—a hum for yes, a soft and disgruntled noise for no.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable and stifling all at once.

You felt his fingers trace slow, absentminded circles against your ankle, his touch light, cautious. He was always cautious with you in moments like this, when there was nothing to distract from the weight of things left unsaid.

“You ain’t gotta stay quiet with me,” Joel reminds you gently, your eyes connecting for a moment.

It was strange how a man so stoic could be so soft, even if it was only shown in brief flashes.

Every time you tried, the words twisted in your throat, trapped beneath years of silence.

Being told your voice didn’t matter. That your body wasn’t yours.

That your thoughts weren’t worth having.

Joel’s hand stilled. He must have felt the way your breathing hitched.

You’d spent so long being nothing. A thing to be used. A body with no name. No choices. No voice. Nothing at all.

But here—wrapped in Joel’s warmth, his scent, the safety of his presence—you felt like something. Or someone.

Eventually, your lips parted. You sucked in a slow, shaking breath.

Joel holds his breath, having tried this over so many nights.

He feels that his conversation with Tommy was partly responsible, forcing you into a space of discomfort, like you had to listen to him.

Then, in the smallest whisper—so quiet you weren’t sure you’d even said it—you forced out, “I don’t have a name.”

Joel went still.

Then, after a long moment, his voice came low and careful.

“What d’you mean?”

You shrug, crossing your legs on the soft duvet, “I,” your mouth feels dry, like you were having an out of body experience as you spoke, like this wasn’t even real, “—didn’t…need one. He never addressed me directly. None of them did.”

Joel notices the way your tongue lingers around he, a heavy memory, a man whose face is impossible to forget.

The silence grows as Joel seems to contemplate his words, seeing how your fingers inch closer, a quiet yearning that you’ve been learning to subdue—not every act of service needed to be thanked, Joel had made that clear.

You try to ignore how your heart hammers in your chest at his silent admiration of your voice, speaking to him despite your disdain and buried fear, unsure if you could commit to more.

“Look…” he starts, his hand falling to curve around the heel of your foot, pulling your leg straight until your foot presses into the headboard of his bed, his hand traveling to rest against your upper thigh, “I ain’t ever been good at talkin’ about this kinda thing. But I gotta say it, ‘cause if I don’t, I know I’ll regret it.”

He looks serious, lips pulled into a thin line, but not unkind.

“What we've been doin’—I know why you do it. I ain't stupid.” Joel begins, your eyes locked on the way his fingers drag gently against your skin, massaging the muscle, “For a while, I let it happen ‘cause… hell, I don’t even know why. I ain’t got a reason, which makes me a bad person, taking advantage of you like that, knowin’ you had gone through hell to get here,”

You chew nervously at your bottom lip, letting the words sink in and marinate, eyes flickering up to look at him briefly, nodding in quiet understanding.

"But I don’t want that from you. Not like that. I ain’t never wanted somethin’ from you that you didn’t choose to give,” Joel admits, uncomfortable with the vulnerability of the conversation but knowing you needed to hear it, “I got my ways about me, I’m an asshole. I know, but this—I ain’t never been in a situation like this,”

You’ve never heard him talk like this, almost as if he’s spilling everything dark and vulnerable about him, laying his heart and mind out on a silver platter for you to devour.

“Sex ain’t just about… sayin’ thank you,” Joel looks at you directly, waiting to catch your eyes, “it’s supposed to mean somethin’. Be somethin’ you do when you trust someone, when you—” he licks his lips, clearing his throat as the words escape,“—care about ‘em. You understand?"

You nod softly, eyes burning with the faint sting of tears.

“You’ve never owed me nothing, kiddo.”

Eventually, Joel grows tired and stuffs the book away on his nightstand, inviting you beside him under the cover in silence, already knowing you had been itching to snake your way in, seeking out his warmth as he leans back to turn off the lamp and is met with your lips when he turns back, feeling your lips tremble with a timidness he’s not familiar with.

Something about it was different, a long and gentle press of your lips as you sigh, breathing through your nose before you pull away, shuffling closer into his chest as his chin rests at the crown of your head, rubbing slow circles over your shoulder until your breathing evened out.

Joel isn’t even sure if he’s doing this right, but he’s not sure he can let you go now.

It would do more harm than good for both of you.

–

A few months later, on another night, you find yourself in silence.

Mind filtering through a million thoughts at once, Joel sleeping quietly beside you—or so you think. His arm is slung over you, breathing slow and steady.

But you’re awake, staring up at the ceiling.

Thoughts race.

Thoughts about him, about you—the unspoken bond. And then, in the stillness, you speak.

“Joel?” you say softly, the small but meaningful utterance of his name has him stirring within seconds, blinking through bleary eyes.

He hums in question.

“Love,” such a fickle word, something you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before, the feeling foreign, “have you felt it before?”

Joel’s eyes open wider, shifting beside you as he rises on one elbow, the hand of his opposite arm reaching for you, fingers brushing absentmindedly along your arm.

It’s a loaded question—and at this hour? Joel can’t help but chuckle.

“Long time ago,” Joel responds vaguely and you’re waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t.

You’re lying on your back, eyes stuck on the ceiling as he stares at you now.

“What does it feel like?” you ask quietly.

Joel can’t help but cherish the moment, the raw emotion in your voice that he only heard on special occasions, not under the guise of pleasure—this was just you.

Joel tenses slightly, though—his mind shifts to Sarah briefly, his life before. It felt light years away, barely able to remember her face at times.

“Kinda…feels like it’ll break,” Joel says hesitantly, “it’s somethin’....real fragile—like when you hold something too tight and it cracks,” you nod slightly in understanding, “but it's also a feeling you’re too scared to let go of, does that make sense?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that,” you admit, looking over at him briefly before averting your eyes.

“You’re young, kiddo,” he tells you, “give it some time.”

There’s a stretch of silence before you find the courage to ask, heart skipping unnaturally.

“Who was it?”

Joel figures you lucky that he’s less guarded like this, your warmth against his chest and your bottom lip trembling slightly—it always seemed to, a lingering fear that never left you.

“My daughter,” Joel explains simply, no sugarcoating or lies, “she died….long time ago,”

“Before?”

Joel nods, a solemn expression flashing across his face before he sets it right.

You don't press him.

But you wonder, deep down, if he’s afraid he might be feeling it again.

When you find your voice outside of Joel, it was in a moment of defense.

You’re not sure why—well, that isn’t entirely true.

You know why, but you can’t explain how the feeling overtook you like possession.

Tommy had suggested you go on patrols with Jimmy, a younger man in his mid-twenties and closer to your age, a reliable man, as Tommy insisted. You’ve never even seen him, let alone was willing to speak with him or venture out beyond the walls.

It could be anyone else. Ellie, Dina—hell, even Tommy himself. You could fair there, but it seemed like Tommy was forcing you out of your comfort zone without any understanding of what that would mean to you.

“You’re smotherin’ her, Joel,” Tommy argues.

“She’s capable of makin’ her own choices,” Joel defends, turning to you, “I ain’t keepin’ you here, am I?”

You shake your head, arms crossed tight over your chest.

“She needs more than just you,” Tommy responds, “or me—or Ellie, I’ve got people askin’ about her, worried she might—”

“Might what?” Joel asks, warning Tommy to tread carefully,

“I’m just sayin’, people are weirded out by her behavior,” Again, talking as if you weren’t there, you find the anger in your chest beginning to swell, “She can try more—that’s all I’m askin’,”

“I don’t want more,” you spit out, both of the men freezing in place.

Joel turns so fast it’s like he doesn’t believe what he just heard.

Tommy blinks, his mouth parting slightly in shock.

“I don’t want more,” your tone softens, looking down as you scuff your shoe against the wood of the porch, “I don’t need more.”

Joel’s face contorts in a way that makes Tommy frown with the realization, because whatever mess the two of you were tangled into wasn’t one-sided in the slightest and if Tommy was honest with himself, he knew Joel was in much deeper.

The next time you speak, it was completely unprompted, feeling him thrash violently in bed beside you—he’s had his own nightmares before, usually consisting of him waking in a sweat or mumbling in his sleep, but this one was particularly alarming, like he was being attacked in his slumber as his arm swings up and knocks the lamp to the floor, ceramic shattering and still, he remained deep in the state of fight, and you were trying your hardest to shake him out of it, slapping his face gently as you held down his other arm.

“J—Joel,” you croak, voice thick with sleep and lack of use, always sounding like the words croaked from your mouth any time you spoke, “Joel—wake up!”

He flinches harshly but his eyes fly open, wild before they land on you and his blurry vision becomes clear, the sound of your voice grounding him into reality.

“It’s okay,” your voice shakes, watching as his throat bobbed with a harsh swallow.

He couldn’t explain how your voice had become such a comfort to him.

Like it was something he’s been missing.

And the first time he hears you laugh he swears he imagined it.

Ellie makes a terrible joke at his expense and the sound comes out too naturally, a triumphant grin crossing Ellie’s face as you both look at Joel who suddenly feels like he’s in a battle of two against one, hands held up in defeat.

“At least someone laughs at my jokes,” Ellie defends, watching as Joel rolls his eyes fondly.

“So, you’ll laugh when she makes a joke but not at mine?” Joel asks.

You shrug, “They’re good,” You chirp quietly.

Ellie throws her hands out in smug triumph.

“Stay bitter, old man.”

“Old man? I’ll tell Tommy to pair you up with Eugene,” Joel threatens.

Tough break, you think.

“Wha—no, what the fuck? That’s a total abuse of power,”

Joel shrugs as to mock you, catching your gaze briefly with a faint smile.

You’ve never felt more at ease in your life and that terrified you.

–

It happens over time, months, years.

The first year you spend in Jackson is hard—from the moment Ellie has found you on the outskirts of their walls, struggling to break old habits that had been instilled in you from birth, and finding comfort in society that only wanted to live, not take.

Jackson was a community, a family.

You still felt like a stranger, an obedient puppy at Joel’s side, shadowing him wherever he went. Patrols, always. The dining hall, occasionally. He never forces you to attend the fancier events held for the community with overwhelming sights of unfamiliar faces and too many voices. The music, the kids, drunkards getting loud around the tables they liked to play roulette at.

You liked silence and so did Joel.

Besides, he’s much softer in these moments.

You’re helping him with dinner when you watch Ellie approach him, arms spread out as he pulls her in.

A hug full of feeling, watching his eyes drift close as his cheek presses into the crown of her head, a grin splitting on her face as he squeezes her too tight, playfully shoving him away.

You never asked personal questions, only thrived off the assumptions in your head, but Joel knows you. He can see the way your eyes beg a question but you’re too afraid to ask.

“I’ll make a deal,” he begins, chopping into the vegetables as you peel potatoes with care, “use your voice and I’ll answer whatever questions is buggin’ you, fair?”

You nod, chewing at your bottom lip habitually before you find the courage to speak, “You…Ellie…” often your words felt disjointed, not that you didn’t understand, but you found yourself being concise, quick, using as little words as possible to get your point across and Joel notices too.

“She’s not mine, biologically,” Joel admits casually, “s’long story, but family ain’t always blood,”

You nod in understanding, the quiet growing again as you place the vegetable and utensil aside, “Her…family?”

“Don’t know much,” Joel shrugs, “kid was dealt a bad hand, but she’s special—a pain in the ass but, she’s good.”

–

Time progresses further, finding comfort through the seasons.

You’ve rotated through different jobs, none of them feeling right without Joel.

And it takes a while, but eventually something clicks.

As a step, you try your attempts at wall patrol—only when Joel wasn’t going out and he was busy planning the patrol schedule out over being gone for days at a time, too worried to leave you, but becoming slightly complacent and selfish in the time he spends inside the walls.

It works for a handful of months, minimal risk, always within shouting distance from Joel.

It was rare for stragglers to come wandering through the woods too, but as someone who had been on the other side, your empathy shines through in a moment of misjudgment one night.

Everyone is on break but you—Tommy and Joel were strict about at least one person always having eyes on the entrance and it wasn’t unsurprising that people jumped on the opportunity to leave you with the responsibility while they snuck away for a break.

You had just opened the gates for Ellie and Dina as they were coming back from the route, pushing the thick doors closed when you spot someone off in the distance, a man stumbling with great difficulty as he limps towards the gate. He’s clutching his side, doubling over in pain, and you feel the jolt of a distant memory pulling at you—a time when you were the one begging silently for help.

By the time you turn over your shoulder, Ellie and Dine are long gone.

Fuck.

“Please!” The shout is faint but enough to stir some instinct deep within you.

The others are too far and he’s approaching quickly, blood leaking from the side of his face as he slumps to his knees by your feet as he reaches you. You dig your heels into dirt and pull the gate open again, just enough for him to slip through with your aid, arm looping into his own.

He collapses onto the ground as soon as he makes it inside, pulling you down as you kneel beside him, “Th—thank you,” he gasps out. His face is flush, not indicative of someone who’s dealt with the elements very long, but he’s bleeding, clearly in pain.

You’re kneeling by his side when Joel’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and angry.

“What the hell?!” He’s charging toward the gate with his revolver in hand, Tommy trailing behind him with wide eyes, flicking briefly between the two of you.

In any other situation, you wouldn’t have thought twice to leave the man behind, hellbent on survival at whatever cost. You knew better. Your instincts are sharp; they’ve kept you alive long enough, but your newfound heart wins over logical reasoning.

As the crowd of people grows, you find your throat swelling with anxiety.

Desperately, you try to convey your worry through looks.

“Y’all got jobs to do,” Joel snaps, “get back to your station,”

He dismissively moves your hand away as he hauls the man to his feet, the man groaning in deep pain as he shoves him toward Tommy, passing him off before his arm is circling around your bicep and tugging you away, struggling to keep up with his hurried steps until he can find a private spot, cornering you with a face you haven’t seen in almost two years.

“You got a death wish or something?” Joel growls, “Why’d you let him in?”

The intensity of his gaze pins you, and you swallow hard against the pressure building in your chest. Bottom lip trembling with fear, “I—I couldn’t leave him,” you stammer out weakly, emotions tying words into knots, it hurts to speak—to defend yourself.

You weren’t sure what you did was right, but it felt that way in the moment.

“He was hurt.” Joel’s jaw clenches at your words, a muscle twitching near his temple, veins protruding. He shoves a hand through his greying hair and drops his voice low, not any less terrifying than when he had yelled at you a moment ago—it has been so long since you’ve seen this side of him, unrestrained rage.

“He could be fuckin’ bit,” Joel argues, “hell—maybe he’s fakin’, but you never—never make that decision on your own,” his hand is flying around in anger, pointing from you and to the gate, “you don’t know if he was staging an ambush or if he would’ve had a knife. You can’t be this fucking naive, I’m not gonna be around to save you all the time and—”

“Stop,” you plead, blinking away the tears that formed quickly, “please, stop—just—”

Joel pauses, a steely expression on his face.

“D-don’t be mad at me. I-I know I messed up.” You wipe at your cheeks, but the tears keep coming, and you can’t stop them, can’t stop yourself from shaking. The air between you feels thick and charged, like he had finally found the opportunity to rid himself of you.

Joel’s eyes soften for a fraction of a second before hardening again. He takes a deep breath, and you flinch as he reaches out, not sure if he’s going to hold you or hit you, familiarizing his emotion with violence after years of being on the receiving end of angry, vile men.

He does neither.

Instead, his hand falls to his side in defeat, “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Suddenly, you’ve never felt so small.

–

Joel doesn’t return home until late that night, heavy boot stomps carrying words he couldn’t find the energy to say, finding his bed earlier empty as he approaches his room.

There wasn’t a single trace of you, not here, or anywhere he would usually find you, his mind suddenly going into a panic as he searched frantically through the house—his bathroom, the kitchen, the backyard and into Ellie’s guest house, but nothing.

As he approaches the living room, he notices the lack of blankets and pillows before his head whips toward the basement, door closed and lights off, slowly, he approaches.

What he finds makes the pit in his stomach sink—you, curled up on the old, fragile frame of the bed that held a mattress stained and tattered, sleeping soundly but unknowing of how long.

His anger, his words, had driven you down here, away from the warmth of the house.

You didn’t feel like you belonged there now.

He feels a pang of guilt. Basements were not meant for living; they were for storage and solitude and silence.

He’s reduced you to this; a thing to be stored away.

Joel approaches with a quieter step, kneeling down at your bedside.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, almost gentle. “Hey.”

You stir, blinking bleary eyes up at him.

For a moment, confusion clouds your face before it shifts to apprehension, and Joel feels something twist in his chest. You jump back, scared. Eyes wide and fearful.

He fucking hated it.

“Hey,” he tries again, his hands hovering close, curling around the edge of the blanket like he wanted to swoop you into his arms, “You gotta come upstairs.”

You shake your head, pulling the thin blanket tighter around yourself, moving away from him.

“You can’t sleep down here,” he insists, firmer this time but without the sharpness to his tone like earlier, “C’mon, kiddo.”

You shake your head again, face softening as you frowned and pushed him away with a gentleness that tugs at Joel’s heart.

Joel sighs long, deep, hands spreading out over his knees before he admits defeat.

He retreats back upstairs with heavy steps, but this time they speak of regret rather than anger.

Out of precaution, they kept that man separated from the community, locked up in a spare cell.

It’s been a few days—but, the real problem comes as they strip him of his bloodied clothes to supply him with new ones, the bag of trashed clothes coming home with Joel later that week as he prepared to burn them out back—not before he pulls himself a small glass of bourbon, simmering in his own thoughts.

Like a mouse, you sneak up on him.

It was a strange flash of the past that tore Joel up inside, watching you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge before you eye the pile of clothes on the counter. It wasn’t the egregious amount of blood that shocked you, but the threading—gold flecks underneath dark patterns that had you inching forward carefully, reaching out with timid fingers to shift the fabric out of the way to reveal the gold symbol that instantly made your body seize up, the glass in your hand crashing to the floor and over your feet, ignorant to the shards of glass pricking your skin and the water soaking your shirt.

“Shit,” Joel mutters in shock, shooting up to his feet and reaching for you before he stops himself. His hands hover like a curse again, unsure of what to do with them or you.

He decides on a worn dish towel, thrusts it in your direction, “What’s wrong?”

You’re stuck where you stand, no sense of time or movement. Eyes fixed wide on the clothes.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, low, and tender, “you can talk to me, s’alright—”

You come back to life with a jolt at his touch, pulling away from him and dropping the towel onto the floor. “I need to get out,” you tell him cryptically, “I need to leave.”

It was the first time he had heard you speak in days and the words are heart wrenching.

He follows your eye line and grabs at the material, crumpling it in his hand as he brings it toward you.

“This mean anything to you?”

You nod meekly, subtle.

Your eyes are burning with tears that don’t quite fall, refusing to shed as you push his hand away and take a few steps back, feeling dizzy and intensely nauseous.

“Oh, wo-woah,” Joel follows you in a way that seems territorial, but is purely out of concern, quickly guiding you toward the sink as the bile in your stomach comes to the surface, gagging into the sink as Joel turns the faucet on, his warm hand at your back, “shit—baby, you’re alright,”

Your head snaps to the side, cautious to his words.

It slips out and even Joel can’t look at you for too long, cheeks heating in shame.

You search his face for cracks in his facade, wondering if this was a trick—that he wasn’t going to blow up at you like a flipped switch, all too accustomed to retaliatory behavior.

“Bad men?” Joel asks after a while, coming to the conclusion based on your initial reaction and your tightened jaw as you stared at him.

You nod, stronger this time.

“Did you know him?”

The truth? You had no clue who he was.

He was unfamiliar, but he belonged to them.

“No, but he’s with them.”

This changed things.

And he needed to talk with Tommy—soon.

—

Joel knows what he’s required to do, though that part of him had long since been dormant. Firing off a gun was much different than something like this, close and personal, the possibility of watching someone’s life fade under the force of your hands.

He expected you to stay behind given how shook up you were about the entire thing—to him, it still made no sense.

The man was hurt, a sizable gash to his leg and a superficial head wound. But, nothing life threatening; no gaping wounds, no bites. And he seemed uneasy, just another suspicion confirmed that what he had sensed the moment the man had passed beyond the gates wasn’t here seeking help.

He was sent for something.

Joel has an idea, but they would have to kill him first.

You stand quietly in the corner as Joel paces the room, knowing Tommy was stationed just outside the door.

Methods like this weren’t widely accepted in Jackson, people too sheltered to have experienced real threat or harm. But, you understand.

You’ve been on both sides—the helpless victim tied up and waiting for your imminent death, but in the same vein, you’ve watched a man lose his life under the pressure of your blade.

You still don’t recognize him, though that isn’t a surprise. Fresh recruits were filtering in every week, new unsuspecting faces ready to be trained into soldiers, killing machines. Men with an insatiable thirst for violence.

He seems to notice you, though.

Eyes wander, survey—the subservient position you took in the corner wasn’t on purpose, rather habit.

Joel didn’t want you to speak, didn’t want you to put yourself in a position to be attacked. He wanted the man to strike first and give Joel a reason to punish him.

Eventually, it happens.

“Damien’s got pictures of you, carries it everywhere,” the man says around Joel, his voice surprisingly calm, “they take one of each of the girls, but you…”

You flinch at the name. Joel notices.

Joel’s blade flicks open and the man chuckles, eyeing him with challenge.

“Go on, kill me,” he taunts, “I’m not telling you anything.”

Joel grunts and flares his nostrils before he approaches the man and grabs his hand, quickly slicing through the skin, muscle, and bone of one finger before reaching into the small fire pit placed at the center of the room, cauterizing the wound without missing a beat.

You don’t even react, watching Joel work like muscle memory—normally, you would feel fear.

But, with Joel, it was a strange unrecognizable feeling.

The young man curses out in pain, thrashing against his binds in the chair as Joel clasps his hand over his mouth, cloth acting as a barrier so he wouldn’t get bit.

“Are there more of you coming?” Joel asks in a calculated tone, “Did they send you here to survey?”

“They’re not after her,” the man chokes out with a sick grin, “but when they find her here, well…”

Joel wraps his fingers around short strands of hair and yanks the man’s head to the side, the point of his knife positioned at the man’s jugular.

“Oh—woahwoah, wait!”

It’s embarrassing how easy it is to make a weak man break.

“They’ve…been watching this place for a while,” he admits breathlessly, eyes glancing nervously at Joel’s knife, “I just did what I was told—they roughed,” a strangled swallow and a quick breath from the man, your arms tighten over your chest as you stare him down, “roughed me up and—and I was supposed to create an opening in a couple days, they—“

“How far are they?” Joel asks suddenly.

“I dunno man!” He shouts.

“Why?” You speak up without warning, both of the men’s attention drawing toward you, “Why now?”

He swallows, eyes flicking up toward Joel out of fear.

“We’re running low—on supplies, housing, everything. This place is the closest that looked—looked worth taking.”

“Where are they now?” You know he knows, pressing the matter.

“I don’t fucking—“

You step forward quickly, ripping the knife out of Joel’s hand and positioning it at the center of the man’s chest, right above his heart.

“Okayokay—the lodge—the fucking lodge!” He sputters, “We’ve been watching your patrol schedules for months and they found a blind spot, they’re held up at the lodge. Please, I told you, just don’t fucking—“

The blood rises in his throat quickly, your face scrunching up in disdain as you press the blade through his skin until it reaches his heart and his body slumps, staring at Joel the entire time.

For a moment, there’s bewilderment.

The last time you and Joel stood around a dead body there had been nothing but raw desire and emotion, but now there was an understanding. Connection.

“That was stupid,” he remarks, with no real threat in his voice, “really fuckin’ stupid.”

“You would have ended up killing him too.”

You weren’t wrong and Joel knew it.

—

It’s hastily planned, but done with an urgency that carries a heavy burden.

It was Tommy, Joel, and a handful of men, stirring around the gate at midnight when Joel catches you sneaking up on him, bag packed and ready to leave.

He’d left you there for reasons unknown—possibly out of guilt, or fear, but it didn’t matter because you were here and you were going, whether he liked the idea or not.

He doesn’t even combat it, really.

“You sure?” he asks with no malice or apprehensiveness.

Your nod is all he needs.

The world outside the walls is always nothing but silence—eerie and gaunt.

Each footfall of a hoof echoes with a dread that is almost tangible and the wind is loud, roaring in your eyes as it sings a mournful tune.

Joel’s eyes meet yours briefly and in them, an unspoken agreement.

This was necessary, even if it is dangerous.

The hours that pass feel like years, the sun on the rise as you near the lodge.

It was quiet, too quiet—no movement, no sign of life.

Tommy was the first one to break off, telling Joel he was going to scope out the place on his own and you can see the way Joel’s jaw tenses at the idea, the muscle refusing to relax until his brother returns.

And when he does, there’s a slight breathlessness to his tone, “They’re sleepin’,” he tells Joel, “fuck waiting—we can get in there and deal with this before it turns into a blood bath,”

Joel’s already signaling the others, horses hitched to nearby trees and before you realize it, you’re moving again, faster now.

A plan is made with nothing more than hand signals. Half of you will circle around back, cover escape routes; the rest, straight through the front, guns drawn and ready. They wouldn’t have anywhere to go.

It’s as you approach, stuck to Joel’s side, that he can see the way your eyes dart around.

And then you spot him.

You hadn’t mentioned him to Joel, the history or the trauma that came with—but it was their leader, an older man who towered like an ox, intimidating without even trying.

There’s fear there, in your face, but it’s not the kind Joel expects and he knows you well enough to recognize it for what it is—you were starting to dissociate, his finger circling around your wrist to ground you as his hand tightened around the revolver in his grip. He almost says something, almost lets it slip, but there’s no time and it doesn’t matter now.

It’s not until you’re in the main room, a collection of cots and sleeping bodies in front of you, as they are able to subdue a few men with the end of their knives, that a floorboard betrays your presence.

The creak is deafening and you feel Joel tense beside you, his finger poised on the trigger.

Then suddenly, it's chaos.

You weren’t a fighter in this sense, so Joel’s main objective is to keep you close but away—it was a bloodbath in an instant, the flurry of grunts from men at the end of their life and Joel hastily shoves an attacker away before he shoots him point blank in the chest.

To your left, Tommy and another guy are pinning two men against the wall, barking orders to drop weapons and stand down and another man lunges toward you as Joel takes him down with a grim efficiency that speaks volumes of his past.

He doesn’t miss a beat.

But, somewhere amongst the fight, your grip slips from Joel, the blade of your knife slicing through the neck of a stranger, a man, an attacker, as you scramble toward the corner of the room.

There’s only a few moments of calm as you catch your breath, before a gun is being pressed against your neck and your arms are twisted behind your back and tugged, pressing you close to the solid press of a body.

Joel’s eyes had left you for a second—a second.

“I’ll put a bullet through her pretty little head,” Damien, their esteemed leader, shouts behind you, gasping at the grip he has on your hands, twisting them awkwardly behind your back, “think you got your fuckin’ fill, killing my men—”

Joel cocks his gun without hesitation and in retaliation, the leader does the same.

You close your eyes, an unsettling calm washing over you.

“You either leave without her or you don’t leave this place alive.”

—

"She’s not yours to claim,” Joel responds,” she’s not anyone’s."

Damien sneers, a sick grin crossing his features, "You think giving her freedom is a favor? She doesn't know what to do with it. She never did. She’s always been mine."

It was your choice to be here—not Joel’s.

Yours and yours alone.

Despite his domineering position behind you, gun still tight against your throat—he sounded pathetic, not a single man to pedestal him up.

They all laid dead, strewn about the lodge and outside.

He didn’t stand a chance and yet—

“You don’t walk away from this. You don’t get to keep her."

He’s stalling—you can see it.

No one was coming, he had no tricks up his sleeve.

He’d relied on the element of surprise, hoping to blindside and ambush the town with ease.

“No one is going to keep me, not anymore,” you force through gritted teeth, “ and definitely not you.”

“You little bitch,” He snaps, slamming the but of the gun against your head as you fall to the floor, groaning in pain, “I’ll fucking gut y—”

Joel doesn’t let him finish.

The blood splatters against your face as you fall to your ass, a bullet ripping through his skull.

There is stillness then, almost immediate, a quiet that seeps through the lodge and pulses beneath your skin. A thunderous sort of silence. You feel it in the air, violent, rushing—yet nothing moves.

Joel shoves his gun into his jeans and approaches you with a careful hand, leaning down and using the fabric of his flannel button down to wipe away the thick blood from your face, staring up at him silently in the process of his movement, malleable to his hands as cleans you up.

And just like that, you owe everything to him. Again.

But, you knew there was no need for thanks—it was implied in the stretch of his gaze and a gentle nod.

—

“He raised me,” you explain to Joel a few moments later, staring down at the lifeless body of the man who had held you captive for years, reduced to nothing, “like—a father? But, then he—”

You watch as a few of the men begin to wrap up the body and prepare to drag it out the backdoor of the lodge.

“You ain’t gotta get into it, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, standing near but not touching.

You kneel down and reach into his pocket, stiffness under the fabric that leads you to a stack of items. A small knife, a hastily drawn map, and a few polaroids—just as the younger man had said.

They're unflattering to look at, bringing back an intense wave of emotion as you stare at yourself in the photos, laid in a compromising position and bare of any clothes. Joel can see the tremble in your fingers, unsure, so he pulls the polaroid away and promptly rips it in half, then again, letting the pieces drift to the floor.

Like it never existed.

“He started touching me after the surgery,” you continued despite his words, “then it was hours—days, sometimes. I had to be there for him, whenever he wanted. It hurt. The sex. But, they’re nicer when you take care of them. If I resisted, he'd cut me, hit me, burn me.”

Joel finds himself speechless for the first time in his life.

“They should go for them,” you tell Joel decisively.

The girls—the others, the ones too fearful to make the choice you did.

You knew they were still there.

“They deserve a chance, too—like the one you gave me. I can lead you there.”

Joel stares at you with a new look, face twitching with minimal emotion but his eyes spoke louder.

The difference between the girl he’d taken in so long ago and the one standing in front of him now was night and day.

After the men had decidedly made the move to raid the compound, there were about twenty girls—wounded, injured, but fortunately alive, that they were prepared to take in.

With that, Joel sees you come into your own.

A lot of your time for the next handful of months was spent caring for them, rehabilitating them, and being a source of hope and comfort in a time where they weren’t sure how to feel.

Joel’s astounded by the change.

And you’ve always known to admire—often for the sake of men’s pleasure and their own sick enjoyment. But, like this, sat in Joel's lap as he gave himself over, comfortable in the silence as his fingers slid up and down your thighs—this was for you.

His scars are plenty—scattered over his chest; some from knives from what you can tell, others from scrapes and gashes that didn’t heal well, a few lingering marks under his chin and one that rested unspoken against his temple.

Your thumb grazes over the raised skin and Joel is quick to guide your hand away, but gentle.

Joel mirrors the sentiment, admiring every inch of your body with a silent look, eyes focused on the trail of his fingers, the way you shiver from his touch.

His curiosity is like his touch—persistent, soothing. It’s easy to let yourself melt into him, let the heat and intimacy roll over both of you. You can see the exhaustion on his face, too.

It was a long day for both of you, too much violence and strife for any one person.

You’ve never slept so soundly next to him, but his touch returns in the morning.

His hands trail over you with such careful urgency, a man intent on giving, taking only the contentment that washes across your face, watching you rouse from sleep.

You shift beside him, pressing closer to the growing need that stirs between you both. His hand is incredibly wonderous between your legs as he guides your knee up, spreading yourself open for him as you shift more to your stomach. Joel pulls you in and his mouth grazes over your shoulder, each kiss a promise of something deeper, something more.

His breathing catches when you move against his fingers, an unexpected vulnerability in the way he traces circles on your bare back with his lips and tongue.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and driving right through you like a knife.

And he means it.

Heat pools inside you, spreading like a wildfire. Joel’s fingers dig into your hips as you push your shorts down, underwear pooling at your ankles before you kick them away and settle yourself against his cock as he hastily shoves them down, pulling a gasp from both of you.

He groans softly and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

You’re not eager, either—not as ravenous as usual. This was entirely for Joel and you were okay with that, in fact, you wanted it more than you cared to admit.

Joel presses his forehead into the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin as he exhales,his fingers slide from your hips to cup your ass, pulling you further in. Your fingers twist into the sheets as you moan into your pillow, a weak sound that Joel wouldn’t have heard had he not been so close.

He’s warm and hard against you, letting yourself melt into it, into him.

He moves slowly, each roll of his hips deliberate and electrifying.

You moan again, unable to keep it in as he shifts his grip slightly to find the angle that makes you whimper and bite down into the sheets.

The sound of his breathing fills the air between you, ragged and raw.

The room is filled with the desperate sound of skin on skin and his soft noises.

“Fuck,” he whispers, more of a breath than anything

Your hand finds purchase in his hair behind you, clutching tightly as he thrusts deeper.

He’s pressed against every inch of your body, sinking into the sheets as his hand comes around your head, hovering over you lazily as he fucks you without urgency, hot skin against your own and you’ve never wanted something—someone, so bad.

The whole world narrows down to this—the two of you.

And you couldn’t be more satisfied.

Life had a sick way of give and take.

As you find your place, your comfort with Joel again, Ellie slips through his fingers.

The conversation about Ellie’s immunity was never something you were supposed to hear, but it came about during a hushed conversation late at night, sneaking out of Joel’s bed to the faint rumbling of voices.

“You don’t think it’s strange I’ve never met anyone else like me?” Ellie asked, coat and shoes on like she was prepared to leave—patrols never left this late.

There is nothing but silence on Joel’s end, glancing at her sideways from the kitchen table, his reading glasses perched on his nose and a book open in front of him, knowing Joel was riddled with an insomnia you’ve become familiar with.

“Ellie, enough,” you can hear the way his teeth grind, “we’re not talkin’ about this right now,”

You see his chin turn slightly behind him, sensing your presence.

But, Ellie doesn’t seem the slightest bit perturbed.

“I can’t be turned,” she says suddenly, at you, “I’m immune.”

It was like a child rambling off her darkest secret, much to the dismay of Joel as his chair skirts back and he stands, a warning.

“She barely talks,” Ellie says offhandedly, and it stings, “who’s she gonna tell?”

There’s a brief flash of apology that shows on her face, but she focuses on Joel, simmering with a similar anger you’ve seen within him. It was damn near identical.

Later, after Ellie leaves for the night, you find yourself curled up against Joel, his fingers rubbing idly against your shoulder as he tries to sleep, but fails.

“What did you do?” you ask suddenly, turning your head up to look at him, his face emotionless.

“They wanted to test on her,” Joel tells you, like he’s reciting a script, “weren’t even sure it would work, it was just experimental. They wanted to dissect on her brain, all on a fuckin’ maybe—I saved her.”

“Is it what she wanted?”

Joel pauses, eyes flicking down briefly and away from you, guilt washing over his features.

“She deserves a life—that cure, it was a goddamn pipe dream, that’s it.”

You stay quiet, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you try to put yourself in his shoes, understanding the choices he made.

“I killed…” Joel starts hesitantly, not that his violent side was unfamiliar to you, “a lot of people, innocent ones to protect Ellie.

“Does she know?” you ask curiously, not an ounce of judgement in your tone, something that Joel seems to notice, his shoulders relaxing.

He shakes his head in silence.

You nod with a somber understanding and curl into him, fingers tugging at the center of his shirt until he angles his body against your own. It takes time, but eventually sleep takes him, the warmth of you wrapped around him.

—

You had decidedly packed Joel’s bag for patrol a few weeks later, his first patrol without you by his side in almost two years, listening to the faint voice of Joel and Ellie on the front porch as you traverse the Miller home.

The tension between Ellie and Joel had risen to a point unfathomable—after she had discovered Joel’s wrongdoings, it had become a heavy point of contention.

And the party from a couple nights ago was the catalyst.

It was supposed to be a celebration for the town, nothing but joy to go around.

You’ve never seen Joel so helpless, attempting to defend Ellie in a moment of vulnerability, not realizing just how well Ellie has come to hold her own. She’d given Joel the full wrath of her resentment toward him and stormed off without a word, nothing but sadness on Joel’s face.

This conversation was a long time coming, months of build up and frustration culminating, hushed voices and broken whispers as Joel looked down somberly into his empty mug from the blinds you peeked through, hastily brushing away a tear.

He joins you in his room a while later, his belongings packed up in the chair at his desk, the lamp at his bedside table illuminating the room in a dull, orange glow.

“It was time to let go,” you assure him, knowing Joel had done everything he could to protect Ellie, “She’ll figure it out—and if she needs to, I’m sure she’ll come to you.”

Joel brings your knuckles to his lips, looking at you as he pressed a kiss to the skin before tugging you playfully forward, quickly swinging your leg over his thigh so you could straddle him properly.

“You’ll wake up tired in the morning,” you warn him, eager fingers digging into supple flesh, his thumb pushing the fabric of your shorts down, “Joel—seriously,”

“I’m dead serious,” he responds, using you as a distraction, eyes focused on the sliver of skin peeking from under your top, his thumb rubbing over the faded scar, your hand pressing to hold him there, “—sure you can handle a couple days without me?”

You nod assuredly, pressing a gentle and teasing kiss to his lips that he chases eagerly.

“You’re gonna make me wait, aren’t ya?” Joel asks, a slight chuckle in the back of his throat as you push him away playfully.

"Gotta make sure you come home to me," you tell him.

It was a big step, relinquishing the claim you and Joel had on one another, fearful that something horrible would happen if you two were to part—but you knew that Joel was careful, safe.

Even with hoard creeping closer and winter releasing it’s wrath this time of year, Joel had never been reckless. He was indestructible, really.

He’d survive—he’d come home to you.

Joel smiles lazily, breathing in your scent as he buries his face into your neck and rolls you into the bed, cuddling himself around your back.

It was a welcome change to not be treated so fragile, like you would break from a single touch—without Joel, you weren’t sure you would have ever reached this point.

To him, you were forever indebted.

Joel had fixed the things about you he’d never broken, rebuilt you piece by piece and reinforced the strength with his words, his actions—because without him, you weren’t sure you would have ever survived this long.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #fic: strangers

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 9 months ago

Text

Instacrush

max verstappen x reader

Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, daddy kink, pining, flirting, possessive behavior, one bed trope,...

Word count: almost 7k

Note: I'm gonna add a smau at the end so keep reading!

My masterlist

The engagement ring on your finger suited you perfectly. It wasn’t overly large or flashy, but the single diamond gave off a subtle, delicate sparkle. It was beautiful and felt just right, symbolizing the love and unity of marriage. When you looked at it in the light, you almost thought you could feel the love Max had for you.

If only that were true.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you asked, sitting down at the table across from Max.

“So we can practice and make sure we seem like a real couple,” he replied.

You sighed, your gaze once again drifting around the hotel room. There was a small sitting area, a dining space connected to a kitchenette, one bathroom, and a bedroom. You had already pointed out the single bed, and Max, ever the professional, reminded you that part of the assignment meant you were expected to share it. After all, this was a couple’s retreat. It wouldn’t have been a problem—if only you didn’t have a crush on him.

If only it were that simple.

You were completely enamoured with Max Verstappen, the handsome three-time F1 World Champion. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was the first time you met him on your first day at work. You were so caught up looking around the paddock, so excited for your first time ever set foot in the land of speed. You were just an intern working in the social media department. Landing a job during the global economic recession was a dream come true for you, not to mention, working for such a big and top-tier team like Red Bull. And that’s where you bumped into him, his can of Red Bull splashed all over your new team uniform. And honestly, you didn’t remember much since you were busy looking staring at his eyes. The bluest eyes you have ever seen. It was like the water in the ocean in Maldives that you once saw in some travel magazines. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Max, you aren't a terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty,” you said.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you added.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a few months just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Max. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much-needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at the track. Both slammed into each other. Both said sorry at the same time”

“And you gave me your hands for me to get up,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And we immediately befriended at first,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “We did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went on that reserved dinner with the team and talked a bit about ourselves.”

It was all the truth, except for the fact that you guys were never more than friends since he was with Kelly, and you. Well, you were just you, there’s nothing really special about you for him to like. You aren’t those supermodels he used to date, nor have the skinniest body type, you are chubbier, with red hair and freckles across your cheeks. Before accepting his request to be in a PR relationship with him just so he gets along with the image of not being a notorious playboy who drives a fast car as an occupation, you did ask him WHY YOU? WHY NOT SOME OTHER GIRLS? AND LET’S BE HONEST ANY OTHER GIRLS WHO ARE PRETTIER WOULD DIE TO FILL IN THE JOB, SO WHY YOU? He just stood there looking at you once again with the deepest set of blue eyes that made your knees go weak, We are friends so this is what a friend should do, right? Help each other out. And y/n I really need your helping hands now.

“Even proposed to you at the same restaurant,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the sound of your own heart breaking. You longed for his words to be true, for him to truly want you as his girlfriend. But deep down, you knew it was all pretend. Your fingers fidgeted with the ring again, a constant reminder of the lie you were living. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, what a briliant story you have in mind,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“Well, it was true, y/n.”

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional.

“Most of it only, Max. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s move on,”

Max looked unsatisfied with your response, his blue eyes searching your face. He could tell you were deflecting, which was both attractive and frustrating. “Okay then. How about we move on to the next part of our relationship? The first date.” He leaned back in his chair and you mimicked his movement.

“Ah, our first date,” you said, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “It was a classic dinner-and-a-movie type date, right?”

Max chuckled at your summation of your first date. “Yeah, it was pretty basic, but it was our first date,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to keep things simple and focus on just the two of us. No fancy restaurants or anything like that.”

You recalled how nervous you were leading up to the date, spending hours trying to figure out what to wear and worrying about what to say. In hindsight, you didn’t need to have been so worried.

“But you looked beautiful that night,” Max continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You always do.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart quickened at his compliment. How was it that Max Verstappen, F1 World Champion, and certified heartthrob, could say something so casually that made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive?

“Thanks, Max,” you said, your cheeks starting to heat up. You twisted the ring on your finger, your nervous habit making its appearance. “You looked pretty good yourself, if I remember correctly.”

Max chuckled softly, his eyes fixated on your hand. “Are you nervous, Schatje?” he teased, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes. “You’re fiddling with your ring again.”

Your cheeks flushed even more. You should be used to his teasing by now, especially after the time you two had spent together recently while preparing for this PR mission. And yet, every time he called you darling, your heart would do somersaults in your chest.

“No, I’m not,” you denied, knowing how unconvincing you sounded. “Just… practicing my part, you know. For the acting thing.”

Max’s eyes darkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He knew that you were avoiding something, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”

He began to recite the next bit of their cover story. “What’s our favorite couple activity?”

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the mention of couple activity. "Well," you began, your voice shaky, "our favorite couple activity is definitely cooking together. It's a great way for us to bond and spend quality time together."

“Well it must be you will be the chef and I’m your assistant then, since I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life, Liefje.”

Max's self-deprecating comment took you a little by surprise. You were used to seeing him as the confident, world-class athlete on the track, not as a hopeless cook in the kitchen.

You chuckled softly at his admission. "Well, I guess you'll have to stick to being my sous-chef then. I can teach you a thing or two in the kitchen."

Max groaned exaggeratedly. "I suppose I'll have to stick to fetching the ingredients and looking pretty," he joked.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Yes, you can be the pretty one, Max. I'll do all the hard work in the kitchen."

He chuckled, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that I have a gorgeous girl doing all the cooking for me, then."

His compliment left you feeling warm and tingly, but you tried to brush it off and stay focused on the task at hand.

"But you have to promise me one thing, Max," you insisted, trying to maintain your composure. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your condition. "What's that, Schatje?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You leaned forward a bit, your eyes meeting his. "You have to be my personal taste tester. Gotta make sure everything is just right."

Max chuckled at your condition, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ah, so I'm not only your sous-chef, but I also get the privilege of being your taste-tester?" he teased.

You nodded, a sly smile of your own on your lips. "That's right. You'll be my human guinea pig. No complaining, just eating." Max groaned dramatically, pretending to look disappointed.

Despite his initial reluctance, Max couldn't help but smile at your cheeky request. "Okay, okay, I'll be your taste-tester on one condition," he countered.

Your curiosity piqued, you asked, "And what's that?"

Max leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, "You have to give me one of your special desserts afterward."

You laughed, surprised at his audacity. "Oh, now you're pushing it, Verstappen," you quipped. "But I suppose I can throw in a dessert for you, as a token of my appreciation for your taste-testing services."

Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Deal," he said, a playful grin on his face. "Let's hope your cooking skills are as good as your baking, Liefje."

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. Truth be told, your life was dominated by work, leaving little time for relationships. But if you explained that to Max, he'd probably just call you a workaholic and laugh. He was the epitome of work hard, play just as hard.

"I don't know," you finally said, trying to sound casual. "I guess I just haven't found the right person."

Max scrutinized you but didn't press the topic further. Instead, he took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face. Max wasn't buying your nonchalant attitude. He leaned back in his chair, still watching you closely. "I don't believe you. You're a beautiful woman, and yet you're single."

The compliment caught you off guard. Coming from Max Verstappen, the three-time FIA Formula One World Champion, it was a lot to take in. Trying to keep your cool, you retorted, "You don't have to flatter me, Max. I know I'm not some supermodel or something."

Max's lips curled up into a sly smile. He leaned even closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said anything about comparing you to a supermodel?" he teased.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his proximity. He was even more attractive up close, with his sharp features and those intense blue eyes. Despite your best attempts to keep your cool, you found yourself blushing again.

"Come on, Schatje," Max said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."

The intensity in Max's eyes was almost overwhelming. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, feeling increasingly flustered under his gaze. Why was he so insistent on this topic? You tried to come up with a witty retort, a clever way to deflect, but your mind was drawing a blank. His intense gaze made it hard to think straight. "It's not a big deal, Max," you finally managed to say, your voice betraying your growing nervousness.

"Bullshit." He leaned back in his chair, studying you once again. "You're avoiding the question. There must be a reason why you don't have a boyfriend."

Max's persistence made you feel inexplicably flustered. He was so adamant about knowing the reason behind your single status. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a convincing answer that wouldn't give away your secret. But the more you fidgeted and avoided his gaze, the more he seemed to be onto you. "Come on, y/n,” he coaxed again, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his legs. "Just give me a straight answer."

Max's smirk widened as he saw the effect he was having on you. He could tell he was making you nervous, and that only made him more determined to get the answer he wanted. "You're making this even more suspicious, you know," he said, his voice laced with gentle mockery. "The more you avoid the question, the more interested I become."

There was something about the way Max said that that sent a shiver down your spine. Was he just teasing you, or was there a hint of genuine interest in his voice? It was hard to tell. "You're relentless, you know that?" you mumbled, trying to cover your nerves with sarcasm.

Max chuckled, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. "I can be very persistent when I want something."

Max's admission sent a flutter through your stomach. He was relentless in his pursuit of an answer, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "And you always get what you want, don't you?" you retorted, aiming for a tone of sarcasm.

Max chuckled at your attempt at sarcasm. He seemed unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixated on you. "I do, usually," he agreed. "But you're proving to be quite the challenge, y/n."

He took in your flushed cheeks and shifting eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

Max's gaze seemed to pierce through you, reading your every reaction. "You're blushing like a schoolgirl, Schatje," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

His observant nature was both impressive and irritating. You tried to compose yourself, to appear unfazed by his words. But the more he teased, the more flustered you became.

The sound of your phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” you muttered, “It’s Christian. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” he said, “I think I'm going to call it a night. It was simply lovely to have such a conversation with you, Lief”

You watched as Max stood from the table, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. The way his shirt pulled tight against his muscles didn’t escape your notice, but you quickly turned your focus to your phone. Christian’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that despite the playful teasing and lingering tension, you were still on assignment.

Clearing your throat, you answered the call, doing your best to sound professional. “Hey, Christian. What’s up?”

Max lingered by the doorway to the bedroom, his blue eyes still watching you as he leaned casually against the frame. The man was frustratingly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes flustering you beyond belief.

“Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly with you and Max,” Christian’s voice came through the speaker.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, glancing at Max again. He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing the conversation. “We’re just going over the cover story. Making sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow.”

“Good, good. Remember, we need you two to look convincing as a couple. This retreat is high-profile, and we can’t afford any slip-ups. Play the part, but don’t overdo it,” Christian said.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Got it. We’ll be convincing.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set your phone down, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Max was still standing in the doorway, his gaze soft but unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost concerned.

“Yeah,” you replied, though your heart still raced from the earlier tension. “Just… trying to make sure I don’t mess this up.”

Max pushed himself off the doorframe and took a few steps closer to you. “You won’t. You’re doing great, Schatje. Better than I expected, actually.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was more behind his words than simple encouragement. But you couldn’t afford to let your hopes get the better of you. This was a job. Nothing more.

“Well, I guess I should get some sleep too,” you said, standing up from the table. “Big day tomorrow.” Max nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to the bed in the other room. “Right. About the bed…”

You froze, realizing that you had been so caught up in the conversation earlier that you hadn’t given the sleeping arrangement much thought. But now, with the two of you standing there in a hotel room alone, the reality of sharing a bed with Max Verstappen hit you like a freight train.

“I can take the couch,” he offered quickly, sensing your hesitation.

“No, Max. It’s fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, right? Couples share beds.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly.

Max’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, summoning what little courage you had left. “I’ll be fine. It’s just sleeping. No big deal.”

Max didn’t argue, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Ladies first.”

You swallowed hard and walked towards the bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Max followed close behind, and as you both climbed into the bed, the space between you felt like an ocean. You were hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.

Max lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, while you kept to your side, facing away from him. The silence was thick, the air filled with unspoken thoughts.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Max,” you replied, your voice tight with nerves.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep. But the warmth of Max’s body next to you, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all too distracting. You tried to push the thoughts away, reminding yourself that this was all pretend. That Max Verstappen didn’t see you as anything more than a colleague helping him out.

But as the minutes ticked by, sleep continued to evade you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—what if?

What if this wasn’t just pretend? What if Max felt the same pull, the same unspoken connection that you did? What if, somewhere in the midst of this fake relationship, something real was beginning to bloom?

You shook your head at the thought, frustrated with yourself for even entertaining such a ridiculous idea. Max was a superstar, a world champion, and you were just… you.

But as you lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you, it was hard to ignore the tiny spark of hope flickering in your chest.

Maybe—just maybe—there was more to this story than either of you realized.

You shifted slightly in bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still lying quietly beside you. You glanced over at him, only to find that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at you.

You shook your head, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "Too much on my mind, I guess."

Max smiled faintly. "Same here."

There was a brief silence between you, and in the quiet of the night, it felt like the weight of unspoken words was suffocating. You wanted to ask him if this was all just a game to him, if he felt the same tension you did, but you were too afraid of the answer.

Instead, you settled for something safer. "Do you ever get tired of it? The pressure, the constant spotlight?"

Max turned his head fully towards you, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job, though. I’ve learned to live with it. But yeah, there are days when it gets overwhelming."

You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I get that. It’s hard to find balance when the whole world is watching."

Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls between you two were crumbling. "Yeah. But it’s not all bad, you know? There are people who make it easier."

You looked at him, your heart fluttering at the implication of his words. Was he talking about you? Or was this just part of his charm?

Before you could respond, Max shifted closer, closing the small gap between you. His proximity made your heart race, and you held your breath as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You make it easier, y/n," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no more pretending, no more acting for the sake of the mission. It was just the two of you, lying in the dark, and suddenly, it felt like everything you had been holding back was on the verge of spilling over.

"Max," you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words.

But before you could say anything more, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. You imagined Max kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered. You never really stood a chance before him.

“So, you like me? Was that why you kissed me, or, ” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole acting and pretending thing ahead and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and teasing you.” He said. “You know Kelly dumped me because I remembered your coffee order when we were at the hospitality not hers,”

You stared at Max in shock, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Kelly dumped him over... you?

"You remembered my coffee order?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as he held your gaze. "Yeah," he replied. "Every single time. It wasn't something I planned to memorize, but I guess I couldn't help it. You’ve always been in the back of my mind, even when I didn’t realize it." You blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. All the late-night conversations, the teasing, the moments when his touch lingered a little longer than necessary—it all clicked into place. He wasn’t just playing a part. He liked you. Max liked you.

"You really are an idiot," you said with a breathy laugh, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The tension between you two, the unspoken feelings, had been weighing on you for so long, but now everything felt so clear.

Max grinned, his face inches from yours. "Takes one to know one," he teased, his lips brushing against yours again.

You leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. This time it wasn’t tentative or cautious. It was everything you had been holding back, all the feelings you had suppressed because you thought it was just part of the job, part of the act.

But this was real. You were real.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Max’s forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your hands.

"Guess we’re going to have to make this mission even more believable now, huh?" Max murmured, his voice filled with that same teasing warmth.

You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "We might have to practice a little more, just to make sure we’re convincing enough."

Max laughed, a sound that sent warmth coursing through your veins. "I think we can manage that."

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Max Verstappen liked you. Wanted you. “Please do,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the driver was an entirely different level of gorgeous. “Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth, suckling gently as his hands continued to explore. You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Please,"

He chuckled, the vibration making your breast hum in his mouth. "Please what, baby?" He asked, his free hand moving to your other breast, pinching the nipple gently. You whimpered, your hips bucking against the floor. "Please touch me, please kiss me, please fuck me,"

“You are such a needy baby,”

"His hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against your core. "You want me to touch you here?" He asked, his fingers gently caressing your folds through your underwear."

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "Because of me?" He asked softly. "Because I'm always around, and no one else can compare?" He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching you for the first time.

His finger traced your slit, gathering your wetness before pushing inside gently. You let out a sigh of relief, your hips tilting to meet his finger. "Is that it? Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?" He asked, curling his finger inside you, rubbing your g-spot.

“Y-yes… It's you, has always been you, Max.” you gasped.

He added another finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. His voice was low, filled with a dominance you'd never heard from him before. "So, every time you went on a date, every time they kissed you, it was me you thought of?”

His fingers moved faster, curling and rubbing against your g-spot. "And every time they tried to touch you, hold your hand, it was my hand you wished was there instead?" He asked, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "Is that it, baby?”

But what can you say more besides moaning at his touch.

He grinned wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can't speak because you're so turned on, thinking about me instead of them. Isn't that right?" His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles onto your swollen nub. "Say it.”

But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when all he did was teasing you like that.

He growled, his face hovering over your core. "Say it, or I'll stop." His fingers paused, buried deep inside you. You squirmed, your hips bucking, silently begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

“Max” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

He tsked disapprovingly, prying your legs apart with his broad shoulders. "Not until you say what I want to hear." His golden eyes bore into yours, filled with desire and determination. "Say, 'Only you, Max. Only you.'" His fingers remained motionless.

“Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.”

His expression softened, and he rewarded you by moving his fingers again, crooking them inside you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice gentle. "Now, wrap your legs around my shoulders. I'm going to make you come with my mouth.”

You eagerly wrapped your legs around his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his neck. He lowered his face between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You're so ready for me, baby," he murmured, his thumbs spreading you open. "So swollen and needy.”

And without further teasing, he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked. Hard. His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that perfect spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Oh god oh god oh god,"

Max smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue. "Feel good, baby?" he breathed. His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions. You didn't know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Max flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking. "You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?" His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the sheets and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside.

The act surprised your lover almost as much as it did you-not quite, but almost -upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him. When you whined a loud, protracted, 'FUCK!' he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this. Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Max knew you were close. He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else's. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

"Come on my face, Liefde. Show me what a good girl you are.”

And suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his head you feared you might snap it in two.

He slowly licked you clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "You taste even better than you look," he murmured, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to yours. "And you look... like a masterpiece.

You took his face in closer and sucked your arousal off his tongue. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his, where your juices had no doubt collected too. That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Max could’ve wanted.

Max's eyes widened in surprise as you sucked his face clean, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your head in place. He groaned into your mouth, his own arousal spiking at the filthy, careless way you were using your tongue.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to explore and taste every inch of it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer against him, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressed up against you.

“I need to fuck you now,” he said.

His voice was rough with desire, his patience worn thin. He reached between your legs, grabbing your thigh and tossing your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. "Hold on, Schatje,"

He slammed into you with no warning, burying his cock deep inside your pussy in one brutal thrust. You cried out in surprise and pleasure, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely. He grabbed your other thigh, holding you in place as he started pounding into you with ruthless intensity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Max kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his dick wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking Schatje, so good at taking my cock.”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Max wanted you.

"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.

He pistons his hips, fucking you with abandon, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. He reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly as he snarls in your ear. "Gonna fill this fucking pussy up with my cum, mark you as mine.”

His grip on your thighs tightened as he continued to pound into you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Not till I say so, baby. You gonna wait for me, aren't you?" He grunted, his own release barreling down on him.

“Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open.

“I'm Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Max practically growls, not missing a beat while still thrusting in you.

He grunted approvingly at your desperate pleas, his face contorting with effort as he held back his own release. "Not... till... I... say... so..." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his voice harsh with command. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you beg."

You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please, daddy.”

“Jesus, you’re making me so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

His face contorted with pleasure as you finally gave him what he wanted. "Good girl," he hissed, his pace becoming frenzied as he finally let himself go. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Gonna take every last drop?"

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-you-daddy-I'm gonna-"

“ I’m 'yours sweet girl, all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum daddy" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Max right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair now disheveled.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course Liefje" Max presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

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yourusername first day at work, welcome to the playground - newbie.

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user1 what a dream job 😭

user2 I wanna be there toooooo 😭

urfriend my baby's dream finally came true

yourusername wish me luck bestie

user4 what is your job?

yourusername i'm the new intern in social media for RBR

liked by redbullracing, yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 3,962,028 others

maxverstappen1 this new (intern) social media manager has me doing all sorts of weird things, apparently the fans like me doing this…I’m yet to be convinced 😂 might need a long nap after this.

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username12 fyi we absolutely love photos like these 😂

landonorris I nearly fell off my chair laughing after scrolling through this post 😂😂😂

username13 thank you the new intern for convincing max to bless us with a world of meme worthy content, i beg for more

username14 he has no idea how much we love seeing this side of him does he???

username15 pls promote ur new intern to be ur lifelong admin @/redbullracing

redbullracing let me ask my boss first ferrari we still have open position for the new intern, wanna join? redbullracing back off mercedesamgf1 or u can work for us instead, why be an intern when u can be our new admin for a very demure, very mindfull team! username16 are they battling for the new intern 😂 username17 on track and offtrack battle

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 26,882 others

yourusername life lately as the new intern at @/redbullracing

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username18 so u r the new intern that blessed us with so much max's meme

yourusername no need to tks me 🤗 username18 u r so pretty, might be my new wife

username19 oooooh max's in the like

username20 aww so cute

username3 the outfits slay

landonorris uhhh

username21 WHAT ARE YOU EOING HERE maxverstappen1 she's not on ur team, mate landonorris so i can not say hello to her ???

yourbff you are so effortlessly gorgeous please 😫 and whose hand is that wifey

username22 wtf is max and lando beefing in the comment

username23 shut the f up she's a swiftie OMG i need a challenge with max and checo with taylor

yourusername working on it, but these two know nothing 'bout the pop culture 😭 username24 OMG the devil works hard but u gotta work harder girl

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, yourusername and 1,826,882 others

redbullracing Taylor Swift 1 - 0 Chestappen

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maxverstappen1 do not shame ur drivers publicly like that

redbullracing we do not 🤗 landonorris how can they not know about THE TAYLOR georgerussell63 i would have won this charlesleclerc if the ferrari's challenge could be this easy

username30 they cant even score a point

username31 OMG Chestappen

liked by 826,882 others

f1wags new wag alert!!! This might be the new gf of Max and she also works for Red Bull too

username32 OMG is she y/n the old intern now admin

f1wags that's her

username33 i follow her too and she is soooooooo pretty

username34 her new ideas for all their challenges are cool too

username1 😒😒

username2 BOOOO👎

username3 so it’s official then huh?

username13 BODY IS TEAA

username24 HOLYYY

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 3,344,234 others

maxverstappen1 i think this called hard launch and yes this is my new gf @/yourusername took all the pics since she thought i'm not very good at it

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shysuccubusstuff · 22 days ago

Text

Incubus! Caleb

Content: Incubus! Caleb + Modern! Caleb + Non proof-reader; Mention of previous love relationships (cheating involved) + Cunnilingus + Size difference + breeding kink + Multiple orgasms + Squirting + Service dom + Overstimulation + Rut

Note: Based on the gorgeous fanart of @bxngxsart thank you for this! Can't believe I had to restart this cause I didn't like it... I've been thinking about returning with succubus! reader... BUT WITH CALEB. You don't know how much I love the succubus/incubus concept with some instant loss... ദ്ദി(≧ڡ≦*) Sorry if it's messy or not really enjoyable!

Caleb and you had been going out for quite some time, with him suddenly confessing you soon after his return to university soon after he had dealt with whatever he had going on. He had planned everything, from your favourite food to the different gifts you had been sending to him as you used his contact number as a kind of notes app. Just how had he been able to get that limited edition plushie?! So you accepted without thinking twice, the two of you had known each other since you were children, with him always taking care of you since your parents had to spend most of their time abroad.

Your time dating had been almost like a fairy tale, with Caleb constantly showering you with gifts or his delicious food made with pure love... How could you even imagine that he was hiding something like that?

That night, you had decided to be the one to give him a surprise, surely he wouldn't expect his precious girlfriend to pop in front of his house, with both your hands carrying two bags filled with different snacks, with your backpack hanging from one of your shoulders as you planned on making a small slumber party just for the two of you. Caleb took a while to respond to the door, almost making you worry as you had to knock over five times for him to finally respond. "Who's there?" Caleb's voice was much deeper than usual, almost as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, which surprised you, as Caleb had never been much of a sleeper, but oh, maybe his day at uni had been more tiring than usual? "Caleb? It's me! I decided to visit you so we could spend some time together?" As soon as you finished your sentence, you heard the rapid movement of Caleb around the house, his heavy steps being heard as you could barely make out a few of the excuses he had tried to come up with. But instead of facing the gorgeous face of your boyfriend, you were encountered with a small gap on the door, his eye barely showing as he smiled at you.

"Hey pipsqueak! Didn't expect you here, I...uh... caught a cold so I think it would be best if we saw each other some other day... Tomorrow? We can meet tomorrow if you want." You tried to hide your clear disappointment as you tried to stay calm, surely Caleb wasn't... There was no way, right? Before you were able to think about a clever excuse, you had already opened the door wide open, squeezing into the gap between the door and Caleb's body and rushing towards his bedroom... Surely he wasn't doing that, right?!... Nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Caleb's room was a complete mess, with his bed being completely disheveled, with all the clothes you had left in his house around it, almost as if he had made some kind of... nest? Caleb came running behind you, quickly catching up to you, but not soon enough for him to forbid you from looking at the state of his room. "I... I can explain." Caleb looked to the floor ashamed, almost as if he was a cute puppy trying to make the owner forgive him. But as soon as you turned around, you saw him. Caleb was slightly... different from usual. His hair was a bit longer, now reaching below his ears, his eyes were slightly pink, mixing with his usual eye colour. then his whole body... His hands had a strange purple hue, and as you took a closer look at his body, you noticed the many different tattoos that were glistening under the pale moonlight, more importantly, there was a quite big tattoo that was glowing... almost as if it was trying to lure you in. "Just...? Caleb?" Caleb's eyes were starting to water, hands trembling as he tried his best to hide the dark horns that were popping out from his head. "Please don't look at me... you weren't supposed to find out about... about this." Caleb's lip began to shake, and despite the sudden surprise, you rushed to him, caressing his face between your hands and hugging him in a thight embrace.

"Caleb, that's not it! I... I wasn't scared of you! Actually, I mean, not like I expected... this. But... you know, I already talked about my... past partners so I kind of... overreacted, I'm sorry..." You slowly got away from him, already feeling how your face was starting to turn a bright red, gosh you had acted way out of line, and you knew that, but the way he had reacted reminded you a bit too much of the others... Even to the point of ignoring the many changes on the body of your sweet boyfriend. "So... uhm... were you like trying a costume? I mean! Don't get me wrong, I would love you even if you had like-- uh... If you had swallowed that purple gum in the film we watched last week! I just didn't expect the bold... colour, so to say." Caleb lifted his gaze, his expression had now changed into a completely confused look, almost as if he was expecting you to scream and get away running from him. "Wha...what's the matter? It's not like I have something against purple, or anything" Before you could say anything else, Caleb wrapped his arms around you locking you in a tight embrace that left you almost breathless, aparently, he had been quite scared of your reaction about his... new style? "Hey, it's ok, it's not like I would break up with you just because of this change in style, I would love you even if you were, I don't know, a worm?" You smiled at your own joke, simply corresponding to his embrace. But as time went on, you noticed something was... wrong? Since your bodies were completely pressed against the other, you had started to notice something, uhm, growing. Caleb's face was buried in the crook of your neck, letting him take a deep breath of your sweet scent, his head starting to spin as he kept pressing his nose against your neck. "Uhm... Caleb? Are you...?" You pressed your hands on his bare chest, slowly pulling away from him, suddenly taking a better look at his gaze. In contrast with his previous look, his pupils were now heart-shaped, with his irises glowing under the dim lighting that entered through the window.

"Sorry... I've been trying so hard to hide it from you... I just get so... needy every time I see you... But, since you told me that, does that mean I'm able to take as much as I need?..." Caleb smiled, lifting his head up, his eyes now piercing your face.

"I... I mean, sure? We can do whatever you want, what did you have in mind---?" Caleb suddenly grabbed you, using a single arm to lift you up from the ground and carefully letting you on the mattress, getting on top of you and starting to kiss you all over, his rough hands getting rid of the clothes you were wearing, throwing them to the ground together with the rest of your clothes. "Caleb? What's going on?" You tried to stop him for a second, confused due to the sudden change on Caleb's behaviour, but you were silenced with a kiss, Caleb's tongue suddenly entering your mouth, interlocking it with yours as his hands started to massage your chest, twisting your nipples and pinching them as he kept fucking your mouth with his tongue, lewd moans leaving your mouth as you tried to eve understand what was even going on. "Caleb... Just... Just a second, my head is getting a bit hot..." Caleb looked at you with hunger, his pupils becoming bigger as he forced himself to remain calm. "I need you... just let me pleasure you, please... I'm so hungry..." Caleb suddenly got down from you, grabbing your thighs and setting himself between them, his breath hitting your entrance before his tongue started to play with your clit, carefully tracing it with the tip of his tongue before he started to suck on it, making you fist the sheets, biting the side of your hand as you tried to stop those obscene sounds from spilling out. Caleb seemed annoyed by this, using one of his hands to move your hand away from your mouth, suddenly increasing the strenght of his suction, making you arch your back as he kept focusing on your sensitive clit, slowly moving his tongue until he reached your entrance, teasing it with his tip before introducing his tongue inside you, swapping his tongue for his fingers, making you cum all over his mouth as his fingertips kept teasing your puffed clit. "Caleb! Just a second-- It's just too much!" You pressed your hands against his soft hair, grabbing his horns as an attempt to try and create some distance between his mouth and your poor cunt, but of course it was to no avail, with Caleb simply choosing to press you against the bed by keeping his arms over your thigs, forcing you to keep your legs where they were even as you kept begging him for a rest, forcing one orgasm after the other without any kind of mercy.

By the time Caleb finally let you rest, you had soaked his bed completely, a wet patch under you, breath completely unsteady, which forced you to take heavy puffs of air through your mouth, fat tears running down your cheeks from the overstimulation. Your hands were still holding on to his horns, legs trembling as Caleb got away from you, smiling happily at the gorgeous art work he had turned your poor pussy in. You could feel yourself already drifting off, suddenly being moved by Caleb, who had suddenly gotten on top of you, fangs shimmering in the dark as he was unable to keep his smirk from appearing. "Don't fall asleep now, I haven't even been able to make you feel good!" You locked eyes with him, your fuzzy mind starting to panic, just what did he even mean by that? Not making you feel good? Your poor legs were unable to stop shaking, and you had drenched the whole damn sheets, just what was he even saying?

You tried to get him to rest, pressing your hands against his chest and trying to push him against you, which was completely useless, of course, only making Caleb feel even hornier as he saw your tiny hands in contrast with his huge body. "No need to rest, let me take care of everything." Caleb finally got rid of his pants, swiftly removing his button, and pushing you to the mattress, then removing his trousers together with his underwear, his huge erection suddenly appearing in front of your face, tip a flushed red colour with a few beads of precum falling down his shaft. "Open wide, honey, it's time for me to feed you." You simply opened your mouth, feeling Caleb's cock entering your mouth, stretching it as you felt the tip of his cock hit against the back of your throat, making it difficult to breath as he finally got his whole dick inside your oral cavity. "So good baby... use your tongue..." You tried your best to use your tongue, wrapping it around his shaft and sucking on it as he had done with your clit, with Caleb's hands carefully petting your hair as he kept letting lewd moans leave his lips. "You're doing so well... Just a bit longer" Caleb's big hands kept holding your head, covering both of your ears, thus making the obscene wet noises reverberate into your head, which mixed with his whispered praises was more than enough to get you to submit completely. "Just a bit more... make sure to swallow it completely, let's not waste anything." You nodded silently, your gaze fixated on how Caleb's chest kept puffing up and down each time he forced his whole length inside you, causing you to barely breath, eyes rolling backwards each time he spent just enough time with the tip of his cock fully inside your mouth as he smiled at you, cock twitching as he suddenly released inside your mouth, thick ropes of cum falling down your throat as you tried your best to swallow it completely. "Such a good girl for me... Now it's time for the dessert, right?" Caleb glared at your puffy lips and glossy eyes, gosh, he was thankful for all the restraint he had practised since he had started to fall in love with you, always forcing himself to keep his erection as concealed as possible each time you even hugged him.

Without giving you any more time to rest, Caleb suddenly grabbed your legs, pushing them backwards just close enough for your feet to be close to your head. "Let's see... I'm sure my cum will be active by now." You looked at him confused, just what did he mean? Well, no need to wonder much about it, a strange mark appearing into your tummy as soon as Caleb's hand brushed against your lower stomach, the mark soon started to turn into a shade of purple, a stange glow starting to appear after a few seconds went by. Was it you or was the temperature in the room getting even hotter? In fact... you could almost feel your mind become fuzzy, your lower half starting to become even wetter, Caleb's expression changing into an amused one as he used the tip of his cock to test it. "Oh~... It seems someone is eager for me to enter... Trying to get me to knock your brains out? Make you even prettier with my cock pumping you full, now, now, let me stretch you...." Caleb pressed the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing it a bit my rubbing it up and down, his tip coating your clit with the mixture between his cum and your saliva, the wet sound making you feel even more embarrased. "Ca...Caleb... my head feels a bit weird... my... my tummy is really warm..." Caleb kissed your lips, making you open your mouth and fucking your mouth with his tongue as his dick gently entered you, stopping every few seconds to let you get accustomed, eyes fixed into your face in case any sign of pain showed up. "So good for me... such a good stretch... does it feel good, honey?" You immediately nodded, kissing his lips with hunger and now being the one to take control, sucking on his tongue as Caleb finally bottomed out. "Are you ok?" Caleb hands let go your legs for a second, both hands stroking your cheeks with extreme softness, almost as if he was scared of breaking you. "Caleb~... more, just... my... my thing feels as if it's melting..." Caleb looked at you with a mixture of pleasure and trouble, feeling a bit bad for the way his bodily fluid had caused you to become so... needy. Before Caleb was able to do anything, you wrapped your arms around his neck, now completely focused on making him fuck you senseless one way or another. "Come on~... Just do it, I'm ready~..." You smiled at him, using your arms to press his chest against yours, then using your legs to bind him, using your heels to push him even closer towards you. Caleb's expressions suddenly shifted, with his marks all over his arms suddenly starting to glow. "Don't rile me up..." Caleb suddenly put his hands on your hips, suddenly lifting you up and letting you lay on his lap as he changed your position. "Just remember you were the one who wanted me to do it." Caleb arms suddenly wrapped around you, using his strength to lift you up, then suddenly making you fuck yourself on his cock, tip suddenly hitting your g-spot and making your eyes roll back, lips completely parted as those naughty sounds kept escaping you, with Caleb's thrusts only becoming faster and deeper each time you moaned against his ears. "Wait Caleb, too much, too much! I can feel it here~..." Caleb's eyes drifted down, now realising the slightly noticeable bump that kept moving up and down each time he made you take his entire member, cooing at you each time your moans turned into soft whimpers from the overstimulation between his hard cock, your chest rubbing against his and your clit being played on by Caleb from time to time. "Just a bit more... please? For me." You gradually nodded, tears starting to go down your cheeks as you felt your poor cunt twitching around him, surely a bit more would help you, right?...

You had completely lost just how much time had passed, with Caleb still hammering your insides with the same strength he had applied since the beginning, your body once again being completely pressed against the mattress as he kept pressing his hips against your entrance, cunt completely soaked between your body fluids and the great amount of cum that leaked each time he entered his cock once more. "Wait, wait! Too much, please~... Just wait a second, I can feel the mark burning up!" You could barely feel your poor cunt, face completely red with puffy lips from all the tears that had fallen from your eyes due to the overwhelming pleasure. Still, Caleb ignored your poor complains, letting your eyes roll back into your skull each time he hit that soft spot, even paying no mind to the many nail marks and scratches you had left all over his chest and back from each time you had creamed around his cock, only making him force his whole length inside you with even more eagerness. "So good... you're sucking me in, honey... Surely you don't want me to actually pull out, right? I was so eager to get your pretty pussy to become all leaky and twitching from me..." Caleb made a small pout, almost as if he was waiting for you to take the bait once again. "Just a bit more, and I'll let you go, yeah? I just gotta make sure this sticks..." Caleb's hand pressed against the strange mark, now looking more like a small tattoo than whatever he had done to you. "You like it? This is proof of our bond... Gotta make sure no other man tries to get to you." Caleb's hips kept moving, now setting an almost painfully slow rhythm, leaving a few kisses around your sweaty body as a way to keep you grounded. "You did amazing pips, such a good job for me... let me take care of everything." All you could feel was Caleb's hands softly rubbing your tummy, then feeling him lifting your whole body up and taking you to what seemed to be a warm bath.

Note: Always make sure to know when the rut of your incubus boyfriends is in!

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