#and you can always ask me for southern ways to say something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tokkiwrites · 2 months ago

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𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗.

mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part two • part three

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, p in v unprotected, breeding kink.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ me writing angst?? wow could never imagine it. i hope you guys like this i dunno what came over me. almost 7k (oops) words of hurt confusion and a filthy finish to dry your tears. not proofread!!

The house smelled like home, like it always had. Fresh cut grass from the lawn, the faint scent of laundry detergent, and the crisp autumn air breezing in through the windows. But the warmth that had once filled it felt absent now, replaced by the coolness of change. A change you hadn’t been able to brace for. Your mother had finally met someone after years of being alone, and that someone was Joel Miller.

You sat at the kitchen table, your fingers trailing the edge of your mug, staring at the steam rising from your coffee. The engagement ring on her finger glinted as she poured a second cup of coffee, smiling to herself. You couldn’t take your eyes off it—the gold band, the small, delicate stone. Joel had chosen it.

"Can you believe it?" she said, laughing lightly. "I didn’t think I’d find someone after your father. But Joel... he’s good to me."

You swallowed hard. "Yeah, Mom. I can tell."

You knew he was good to her. You saw it every time they were together. The way he would brush his hand over her back when he passed her, the way he’d laugh at her jokes. The way she looked at him, like he was everything she had wanted but had never thought to ask for.

But that wasn’t what twisted the knife in your chest.

Joel had always been more than just a neighbor. You’d been only nineteen when you started noticing him, the way a girl starts to notice a man—how his shoulders would flex when he lifted something heavy, the rasp in his voice when he spoke to you, low and careful. He was rough around the edges, with that Southern drawl and hands scarred from years of work. A part of you had always wondered what those hands would feel like on you, against your skin, but you never let the thoughts go far. He was older, after all, and back then, it had been nothing more than an innocent crush. But now he was here, in your life in a way you hadn’t imagined, not as some distant neighbor or a fleeting thought, but your mother’s fiancé. The reality of it made your stomach churn, and you hated yourself for the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he came around.

"I’m glad you like him," your mom continued, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She took a seat across from you, her eyes soft with affection. "I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this, but... it means a lot to me that you’re okay with it." You forced a smile, the tightness in your chest growing. "Of course. I just want you to be happy." She reached out and touched your hand. "I am."

You wished you could say the same.

The days stretched into weeks, each one bringing you closer to the wedding. The house buzzed with preparations, your mother caught up in a whirlwind of joy and excitement. You tried to blend into the background, to stay out of the way, but it was impossible. Every time you turned around, Joel was there, a steady, looming presence.

One afternoon, you found yourself out in the yard, helping your mom plant some new flowers along the fence. The sun was high in the sky, the heat beating down on your skin. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, focusing on digging the next hole. "Need some help?" Joel’s voice came from behind you, making you jump. You turned, finding him standing there with a shovel in hand, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. He was wearing a faded flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the sinewy muscles of his forearms. His hair was streaked with gray at the temples, his face lined with years of hard work and sun exposure, but he was still undeniably handsome. Too handsome.

"No, we’re good here," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you turned back to the soil. Your mom looked up from her spot, grinning. "Actually, Joel, I think we could use a little extra muscle." He chuckled and came over, kneeling beside you, close enough that you could smell the scent of earth and sweat on him. His presence was overpowering, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from drifting.

"So," he said casually, his voice low as he worked beside you, "you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alright?" You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. "Yeah, 'm just busy."

"Busy, huh?" He tossed a clump of dirt aside, his tone teasing but not unkind. "You don’t strike me as the busy type." You shrugged. "Things change." Joel paused, his fingers still in the dirt. "That they do." There was a weight to his words, the way he said it, something that settled deep in your bones, like he knew what was deep beneath your facade. You risked a glance at him, and when your eyes met, the air around you seemed to thicken. His gaze was too intense, too knowing, and it made your heart pound in your chest. "Joel, could you help me with these pots in the back?" your mother called, oblivious to the tension that had been steadily growing between you and him.

Joel blinked, breaking the moment. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Yeah, sure thing." As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You couldn’t keep going like this.

Temptation lurks.

The engagement party was held at your house, the backyard filled with neighbors, friends, and family. You had helped set everything up, stringing lights across the trees, setting up tables with white linen. Your mother had been glowing all day, her happiness contagious to everyone but you.

You were standing near the bar, sipping on a drink when you saw him. Joel was talking to your uncle by the grill, his hand resting casually on the back of your mother’s chair. You watched as he laughed at something your uncle said, the sound of it rumbling low in his chest. He looked so at ease, so comfortable in this life he had built with your mom. But there was a crack in the facade, something that only you could see. The way his eyes flickered to you, even when he was mid-conversation. The way his smile faltered just for a moment when your gaze met his.

he feels it.

"You look lost in thought." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. Joel was beside you now, his presence like a shadow that followed you everywhere. You forced a smile. "Just thinking." He leaned in a little closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Care to share?" You shook your head, setting your glass down on the bar. "It’s nothing."

Joel’s hand brushed yours as he reached for his own drink, the touch so brief and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. He must have felt it too because he hesitated for a moment, his fingers lingering a second too long before he pulled away. "You seem different, sweetheart." he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure you out. sweetheart. it sounded so natural, meant just for you. "Not like yourself." He continues. You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I’ve changed. Or maybe you don't know me that well."

"Maybe," he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I think I know you better than that." Before you could respond, your mother appeared, smiling brightly as she slipped her arm around Joel’s waist. "There you are!" she said, looking between the two of you. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Joel’s eyes never left yours. "Just catching up."

You excused yourself quickly, retreating inside the house, your chest tight with frustration and confusion. You needed air, space, anything to clear your head. But no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t escape the way Joel made you feel. The way you wanted to feel, despite everything.

everything beneath the surface.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a blur. You kept your distance from Joel as much as you could, but it was impossible to avoid him completely. Every time you saw him, the tension between you grew stronger, pulling you in even when you wanted to push it all away. One evening, after a particularly long day of wedding planning, you found yourself alone on the back porch. The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You sipped your drink slowly, trying to let the cool night air calm your nerves.

"You okay?"

You turned to find Joel standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. You hadn’t even heard him come out. You straightened up, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m fine. Just needed some air." Joel stepped onto the porch, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, his hands in his pockets as he looked out into the yard. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. "You’ve been avoidin’ me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough in the quiet night. Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t deny it. "It’s not like that."

"Then what’s it like?" You sighed, setting your drink down and standing up, needing to put some space between you. "Joel, this... it’s complicated. I can’t—"

"Complicated," he repeated, his tone tinged with frustration. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "It wasn’t complicated before, was it?"

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they were true. It hadn’t always been complicated. Before your mother, before the engagement, there had been something between you and Joel that had lingered, unspoken, for years. Maybe it had been innocent at first, just a crush you’d had on the older man next door. But it had evolved into something else—something dangerous.

"Joel," you whispered, shaking your head, trying to regain control of the conversation, but he was already too close. His presence overwhelmed you, drowning out the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to walk away.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to look away. "I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby." You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "This isn’t fair," you managed, your voice breaking. "You’re marrying my mom, Joel." He winced, as if the words had physically hurt him, but he didn’t back away. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I know I shouldn’t feel this way. Goddamn it, I tried not to. But I can’t help it, baby, Iㅡ" You took a step back, trying to create some distance, but Joel followed, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached out, brushing your arm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Don’t—"

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his hand dropping, but his eyes were still fixed on you. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. Should've been ya."

"Then why did it happen?" you asked, your voice breaking with the weight of the question. "Why are you doing this, Joel? Why are you marrying her?" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not what you think."

"Then tell me," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "Tell me why you’re with her when—"

"When I want you," Joel finished for you, the rawness in his voice making your heart ache. The admission hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard it, that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It meant everything.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, the world tilting on its axis. You felt the pull between you, that magnetic force that had always been there, but now it was more dangerous than ever. It wasn’t just some unspoken tension anymore. It was real, out in the open, threatening to tear everything apart. "Joel, this isn’t right," you said, your voice trembling, even though your heart screamed at you to move closer to him. "It can’t happen. Not like this."

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his voice barely a rasp. His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "But that doesn’t change how I feel." You pulled your hand away, the loss of contact almost painful. "You have to stop," you whispered, your throat tight. "You have to marry her. You can’t do this to her." The agony in his eyes was unbearable. "You think I don’t know that?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your pulse racing. "Then why are you doing this?"

Joel’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked away, like he couldn’t bear to face the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost broken. "I thought I could love her the way she deserves. I thought... if I just tried hard enough, I could make it work." Your heart ached for him, for your mother, for yourself. "But you don’t, do you?"

His silence was answer enough.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay strong. "You need to go through with the wedding, Joel. My mom... she loves you. She’s happy."

"I know," he murmured, the weight of his guilt evident in his voice. "But what about you? What do you want?" The question hung in the air, suffocating you. What did you want? You wanted him, but not like this. Not in a way that would destroy everything around you. Not in a way that would hurt your mother, who had already been through enough pain. "I want my mom to be happy," you said finally, even though the words felt like they were tearing you apart. "That’s all." even if it was a lie.

Joel stared at you, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too." He stepped back then, creating the distance you desperately needed. "I’ll do the right thing," he said, his voice low and resolute. "For her." he wouldn't believe himself either.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice to say anything else. The weight of the moment settled over you both, heavy and oppressive. Without another word, Joel turned and walked back into the house, leaving you standing alone on the porch, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

It was all ready to collapse.

The wedding day approached faster than you had anticipated, each moment feeling like a countdown to an inevitable disaster. You tried to bury your feelings, to focus on helping your mom with the final touches, but the weight of what had been left unspoken between you and Joel hung over everything. You hadn’t spoken to him since that night on the porch, and the tension gnawed at you.

The morning of the wedding was bright and warm, the sun filtering through the lace curtains in your bedroom. You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the soft fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to shake the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest.

You wanted to be happy for your mom—she looked radiant, glowing in her wedding dress, and she deserved this moment. She deserved love, peace, after the years of struggle she’d endured. But underneath your forced smiles and quiet congratulations, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. About his eyes when he looked at you, about the unspoken words still hanging between you.

Downstairs, the house sung with excitement, guests gathering for the ceremony. You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and music, the clinking of glasses as the day unfolded. But it all felt so distant, like you were watching it from the outside, detached from the joy that filled the air.

Just as you were about to head downstairs, there was a soft knock at your door.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. You already knew who it was before you even opened the door. Joel stood there, looking as conflicted as you felt. He was dressed in a suit, but the usually rugged man looked uncomfortable in the formal attire. His hair was neatly combed, but there was still that familiar edge to him—rough, worn, and undeniably Joel.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you, his dark eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. "You look beautiful."

"You shouldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I know," he said, his voice low. "But I had to see you. Before—"

"Before what?" you interrupted, your hands trembling. "Before you marry my mom?" Joel’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "For all of this. For... for everything I’ve put you through." Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "You have to go through with it, Joel. You promised her."

"I know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But I can’t stop thinking about you." The rawness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to stay strong. "You don’t get to do this now," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not today." Joel’s hand reached for yours, but you pulled away, stepping back. "Don’t," you warned. "Please don’t make this harder than it already is." He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret, before he finally nodded. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I’ll... I’ll go."

You watched as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall, each one like a nail in the coffin of what could have been.

Unbeneath.

The wedding was beautiful. The flowers were perfect, the music soft and sweet, and your mother’s face glowed with happiness as she walked down the aisle. Joel stood at the altar, looking handsome and calm, the picture of a man ready to commit to a life with her.

But you saw the cracks beneath the surface. You saw the tension in Joel’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as your mother approached him with a radiant smile. You knew he was trying to hold it together, trying to play the part of the perfect groom. But deep down, you could see it—he wasn’t entirely there.

Standing as a bridesmaid near the altar, you forced yourself to smile, to focus on your mother’s joy. But it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The weight of what Joel had said to you that morning still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. As the officiant began to speak, your heart pounded in your chest. The words felt hollow, echoing in your mind. The vows of eternal love, of commitment, of being faithful—it all felt like a lie. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to hold on for your mother’s sake.

But then Joel glanced at you.

It was brief—just a flicker of his eyes in your direction, but it was enough to make your breath catch. His gaze was filled with conflict, guilt, and something else you couldn’t name. And in that moment, you knew—he was thinking about you. Even here, even now, when he was supposed to be pledging his life to your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the officiant asked Joel to recite his vows. He hesitated for just a second too long, the pause so subtle that no one else seemed to notice. But you did. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between doing what was right and doing what he wanted.

"I, Joel, take you—" His voice caught, barely noticeable, but you saw it. He cleared his throat, trying again. "I take you, to be my wife."

Each word felt like a stone dropping into a bottomless well.

Your mother smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. She was completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. She believed in this moment, believed in the future they were about to share. And you hated that you couldn’t give her that same belief, that you couldn’t share in her happiness.

When the ceremony ended and the guests erupted in applause, you clapped along with them, your hands numb and mechanical. The celebration carried on around you—people laughing, clinking glasses, congratulating the happy couple—but you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath you.

At the reception, you stayed at the far end of the garden, away from the crowd. The string lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow on the scene, but the beauty of it all felt distant, unreachable. You sipped your champagne, staring blankly at the dance floor where Joel and your mother swayed together. They looked perfect, like a picture from a magazine. But you knew better.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Joel came up beside you, his presence like a storm cloud looming on the horizon. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

"You disappeared on me," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the dance floor. "Just needed a moment." He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean for things to get this way. Please believe me, I didn’t knowㅡ didn't know she'd fall." You finally turned to face him, the rawness of his words cutting into you. "Well, they are and she did so.."

Joel looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache, the same look he’d had earlier that morning. "I can’t stop thinking about you, baby." he repeated softly, his voice rough with emotion. "Even now. Especially now."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "You need to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You made your choice. You married her. I don't even know what your plan was."

"I know," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "I know what I did, but that doesn’t change what I feel. It doesn’t change this." He gestured between the two of you, his eyes pleading. "I never wanted to hurt you, or your mom. But... I can’t pretend anymore. Not with you." Your chest tightened, the pain almost unbearable. "You have to pretend, Joel. You have to. For her." He stared at you, his expression torn between guilt and desire. "And what about you? What about us?"

"There is no us, Joel. Never was." You said the words like poison in your mouth. "There can’t be." Joel’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing your arm, and the familiar spark shot through you, the one you’d tried so hard to ignore. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You’re right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There can’t be." But the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips because despite everything, despite the weight of his new vows, you saw him lean in closer. His breath mingled with yours, and his eyes-filled with guilt, longing, and desperation bore into you. His lips inched toward yours, the world around you fading into a blur of muted colors and distant laughter. People were far enough to not see you, but that didn't make it any easier. Your heart pounded, your breath shaky as you felt the warmth of his body close to yours. You knew this was wrong, that you should push him away, but your body betrayed you. The yearning, the suppressed need that had lingered between you for years, finally pushed through the cracks.

With one last glance into your glassy eyes, as if seeking permission-or maybe forgivenessㅡ Joel closed the distance.

His lips intertwined with yours, soft and rough at the same time, filled with everything that had been left unsaid. You froze for a moment, the shock of it crashing through you like a tidal wave. But then something snapped inside you, and you kissed him back. All of the restraint, the pain, the buried feelings surged to the surface, spilling into that one kiss.

His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist. It was just you and Joel, a stolen moment in a sea of impossibilities. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if both of you knew this would be the only time you'd have. As if the kiss had to say everything words couldn't

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, reality crashed back in. You broke away, gasping for air, your chest heaving. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Finally, Joel stepped back, his face hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I’m sorry," he muttered, though you knew the apology wouldn’t fix anything.

You watched as he walked away, back to the party, back to your mother—the woman he had chosen. The woman he was supposed to love. Your heart broke all over again as you realized that no matter what you felt for him, no matter what he felt for you, it would never be enough to change the reality of the situation.

And so, you stood there, the cold night air brushing against your skin, watching as Joel rejoined the celebration. The sounds of laughter and music filled the garden, but all you could hear was the silence between you and the man you could never have.

Was one night really that important?

You stood there, alone in the shadows, the air growing colder around you. The question gnawed at you, refusing to let go. What harm could it do? One night. One moment where none of thisㅡ none of the guilt, the secrecy, or the heartbreak mattered. No one would know. No one had to.

Would it really hurt?

The thought was reckless, dangerous even, but it lingered, growing more persistent with each passing second. Your mind kept replaying the way Joel had kissed you, the heat and desperation in his touch, the wayyou had kissed him back without hesitation, as if your bodies knew what your hearts refused to admit. You hadn't wanted to stop. And he hadn't either.

Your breath quickened as you thought of him, standing there, so close you could still feel the faint echo of his warmth, his scent, the way he had made you feel as though the world had disappeared, as if nothing else mattered but the f you, in that moment.

No. You couldn't. You couldn't do this to your mother. You couldn't betray her like that, not even for one night, no matter how desperately you wanted him. But the longing was still there, a dark ache deep in your chest, making it harder and harder to ignore. You let out a quiet, shuddering breath and looked back toward the reception toward Joel, who was now standing by the bar, talking with a few guests. The smile he gave them was easy, practiced, but you could still see the shadows under his eyes. You could still see the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

What if nobody knew? What if this one mistake, this one selfish moment, stayed just between the two of you? What if you could find a way to make it work-just for one night, just to feel what it was like to truly have him without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders?

You swallowed hard. you could still taste his kiss on your lips. You could still feel the burn of his fingertips against your skin.

But then, you remembered your mother's face. Her warmth. Her trust. She was so happy, so completely in love. The thought of betraying her, even just for a moment, tore you apart. Could you really live with that kind of guilt?

No.

Butㅡ

You closed your eyes and exhaled, trying to quiet the storm inside you, trying to remind yourself of what was right. This wasn't a fleeting desireㅡ it was a devastating disaster waiting to happen

And yet, your body ached with the need to be close to Joel again. The yearning, the intensity of that single kiss and one pathetic touch, it was too much to ignore. You had given in once, but you couldn't go down that path again.

You took a step away from the garden, retreating into the shadows. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe one night wasn't worth it. But then you heard his voice, low and familiar, cutting through the noise. He was closer than you expected.

"Hey."

You froze, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joel. His voice was all too familiar now. He stepped into the shadows with you, the dim light casting sharp lines across his face, making him appear even more worn, more conflicted. "Iㅡ" He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn't have kissed you earlier. I know I shouldn't have."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't. You didn’t regret it. You wish it never ended.

Joel's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, but you kept your distance. He seemed to notice the space between you, the invisible barrier that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn't help but feel. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said. "I just know I don't want to lose you." His words shattered what little resolve you had left.

And in that moment, everything that had been building between you, the unspoken, the impossibleㅡ became undeniable. It was wrong. It was selfish. But here he was, standing before you, asking you for something you both knew you could never truly have. And for a moment, it didn't matter that it was wrong

You let out a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "One night," you murmured. "Just... one night."

Joel froze. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, it seemed as if he might say no. But then his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him, his lips catching yours in a kiss that was deeper this time, hungry, urgent. There were no more words between you, just the frantic need to close the distance between your hearts, to feel something real, even if it was only for one night.

As his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer, there was a fleeting moment of clarity,a brief flash of the consequences. But it was swallowed up by the heat of the kiss, the intoxicating feeling of finally giving in to the desire that had been burning between you for years,

It was wrong. It was a mistake

But as Joel's lips moved against yours again, you forgot about everything else. Joel’s hand slid to your wrist before you could pull away, a firm, steady grip that tugged you gently toward him, toward the quiet behind the chaos. The party’s laughter and chatter were left in the distance, fading as you followed him, the night air thick with tension.

"We should go to a room," he whispered, his voice hoarse and urgent, almost pleading. "The party still has a few more hours before it ends. Don't worry, baby. It'll all be okay. She won’t even notice we're gone." You looked at him, heart racing, mind reeling, torn between the gravity of his words and the electric heat still burning in your chest from the kiss. He was leading you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the garden, toward the back of the house where the guest rooms lay hidden behind thick foliage and shadows.

You followed, not because you were sure, but because the pull between you was undeniable. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and maybe you didn’t want to. His pace quickened as he sensed your hesitation, his breath hitching, more desperate now, as though he needed you to understand. "We can’t keep doing this," he said, his tone a mix of anger and longing. "We can’t keep pretending like we don’t feel it. This—" he glanced back at you, "this is what we've been needing for so long."

You could barely catch your breath as you stepped into the hallway of the house, away from the party. The muffled noise of music and chatter was barely a memory now. The quiet was heavier, more intimate. And when you finally stopped, your back pressed against the closed door of a guest room, you both stood there in the dim room, hearts pounding like they were about to burst.

His hands were still on you, strong but gentle, but this time, they didn’t move to pull you in. Instead, he lingered, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your arms as though he was afraid of breaking something fragile—something that might never be repaired.

"Joel..." Your voice was soft, porcelain, and it trembled in the stillness of the room. "Please.." you can hear him mumble a soft 'fuck' before his lips crash onto the exposed skin on your neck, his hands roaming your body like he's been waiting to do this for a thousand years. he quickly manages to discard the jacket of his tuxedo and unzip the back of your dress, your hair that was neatly pulled up now down on your shoulders. "You're so beautiful, baby. Always have beenㅡ god, I was so stupid not doin' this earlier." Your mind reeled, cunt pulsimg. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, trying to steady your pulse. the fire between you crackled and burned hotter, and for tonight, you gave into it.

"Joel, please, justㅡ touch me, please.." he nods his head. "fuck, yeah, okay. You sound so pretty when you're desperate." you shudder at his words, a soft moan slipping from your lips. " 'm gonna fuck you tonight 'n make up for all of the nights i didn't." that was a promise.

you were now almost fully naked, the only thing covering your body was a soft, laced, white set you had on. "Pretty girl." he begins to discard those items from you too, but removes only the bra, leaving the white panties on. you look up at him, his presence swallowing you whole. without words you reach our hands out, promptly placing them on the hem of his pants and starting to unbuckle the belt he had on. you fingers fumble from the tension, but you finally do it. you trail you fingers onto his abdomen, drawing small hearts before you hear him growl. he picks you up swiftly and throws you on the bed settled in the middle of the room. his pants come undone so he pulls them off fully. "Spread your legs, baby." you do, your pussy spilling over the lace that barely covered anything. his rough fingertips trace your clothed folds, making you look away. "Look at me. Look at me, tell me what you want."

"Want you, Joel.." he hums. he pulls the panties to the side, eyes fixed on the way your cunt glistened under the dim light. its not long before he gets on his knees between your legs. "sweet girl. been dyin' to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"Sure you want this, darlin?" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours again, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

"want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you whimper pathetically at his dirty words. dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

joel pressed himself against you, his briefs now fully off. fuck, he was huge. his leaking tip was pressing against your folds. "so wet, baby. all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

" 's all for y-ou, Joel ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. be drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down again and again, as if he didn't make you wait long enough for it. after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased. "My little girl, takin' my cock so well."

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ you were in a dream for sure. joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " You were hanging on the mattress for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you. he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you hips, his moves now more ragged.

"shitㅡ whish I married you, baby.." he says through grunts, palms still gripping your hips. "Wish it were you there in that dress. 'm sorryㅡ" you cry a little louder as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. "let me put a baby in you, sweet girl, we can run away andㅡ fuck, run away and be happy. have our own little family." your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Joel, Iㅡ"

"You'd want that? imma make you a mommaㅡ my pretty wife, god."

" 'm s-so close, Joel, please "

"I know, baby, I know. Y-You go ahead." With a few more snaps of his hips, you're both coming, bodies writhing, as his head falls upon your chest. For a long, heavy moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish. All that was left was the two of you, in that silent little room.

Joel pulls out, making you moan. He watches intently as his seed drips out of you, licking his lips as a palm rubs your lower belly. He hopes it'll stick.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #stepdad!joel #joel miller angst

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talaok · 9 months ago

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The sweetest remedy

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader

summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it

warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is

"what's wrong?"

He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off

His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.

You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you

"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter

"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"

And of course, he did

Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work

Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,

and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.

You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you

He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.

"tell me what's wrong," you asked again

You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours,

because that's what he brought to you every single day

He sighed, before nodding slowly

"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"

you didn't pay attention to the last part

"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him

"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs

"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"

The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips

"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.

You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own

"you know I'm right"

He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you

"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"

Ah that's right

Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie

"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek

He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you

"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"

You nodded, watching him closely

"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.

You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away

But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris

"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"

And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,

Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.

A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth

Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring

"y'know what I need babydoll"

God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again

"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter

But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision

"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.

just like he was now.

Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,

his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...

His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.

You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.

His tongue felt good even though the soaked material

"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,

He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,

he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light

That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs

he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole

"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"

He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth

your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.

"Joel- baby- p-please"

but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything

And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.

Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,

the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.

"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"

And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.

He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.

You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating

"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"

You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.

But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead

"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance

"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now

He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered

"You're still sore from this mornin'"

What does that have to do with anything?

"but-"

He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"

And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic

"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood

You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,

but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.

"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did

Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.

And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.

And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done

"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.

God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect

"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate

You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.

the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.

"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth

"yeah doll"

You kissed him again quickly before speaking

"come inside my mouth baby"

Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,

a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there

"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"

"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"

"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding

"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"

"fuck"

you always knew what to say to get him going

"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.

It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.

"Feeling better?" you finally asked

"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"

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kayesfanfics · 9 months ago

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Being Friends with Benefits with Gambit

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, mentions of cheating, one sided love, love triangles around every corner, Morph lowkey has a crush on you

You and Gambit had always been flirty with each other, but nothing that got physical, at least until he came to you one day. He was sick of chasing after Rogue when she didn’t want him back, so he wanted to both make her jealous and let out some pent up energy. You decided to indulge him, admitting to yourself that you really did need a good lay, and you wanted to see Rogue get jealous because of you. So you agreed and let him lead you to his bedroom, which happened to be a couple doors down from Rogues’

After that first night, the two of you went to each other when you were either horny, frustrated, jealous, or all of the above. You didn’t explicitly tell the team but they all knew, having either heard you themselves or hearing it through the gossip that quickly spread through the Mansion. Rogue had shown she was a bit upset, but she also couldn’t blame Remy after making him chase after her and leading him on when she was still shacking it up with Magneto. Still, that didn’t stop the pang in her heart when she saw him whisper to you before you giggled and followed him upstairs. You and Gambit both knew you were hurting her, but Gambit was sort of okay with it and you egged him on, saying she deserved it for leading him on all these months

You watched with disdain as Gambit’s eyes were on Rogue across the table, whom was not paying him any attention. You longed for Gambit to look at you that way, but his heart was still set on the southern belle, yet his dick was set on you. You convinced yourself you were okay with that, thinking that at least he came to you for something, even if it was just sex. But truly deep down, you wished he came to you for so much more. For now though, you pined after him as he pined after Rogue.

“Meeting dismissed. Gambit, Y/N, Jubilee, don’t forget you’ve got the Danger Room with me in an hour. Good luck.” Scott grinned, before leaving the table to go tend to his pregnant wife.

“Looks like we’re gonna get our asses kicked together, chere.” You smiled at Gambit, using the nickname he used on him.

“Yeah, looks like.” He mumbled, watching Rogue leave the room, no doubt headed to Magnetos office. You glared at the back of her head, jealous that Remy was so focused on her that he couldn’t even see you throwing yourself at him right next to him. You glowered and left the table, crossing your arms, knowing he wasn’t watching you leave. You went towards the kitchen to get a drink, definitely needing a beer before fighting Wolverine soon.

“God, that’s gotta suck hard.” You heard a playful voice from somewhere behind you. You turned and saw Morph grinning at you like a creep from the hallway, before he jumped onto the counter you sat at.

“No shit, Morph.” You grumbled, taking a swig of beer as you wallowed in your self pity. “I just…I don’t get it! Why can’t he see I’m better for him? She doesn’t pay him any mind!”

“That’s what he’s thinking about her and Magneto,” he shrugged. “You can do better than him, y’know? You deserve someone who pines after you, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“I don’t know…maybe-“

“Oh, this is pathetic.” You both turned to see Wolverine watching you two from the fridge.

“What is?” You asked, looking at Morph in confusion.

“You two! Both of you! All of you! It’s ridiculous, really.” He grouched at you, grabbing a beer for himself.

“Aren’t YOU pining after Jean?” You teased, making him glare at you and Morph snicker.

“This ain’t about me, I’m talking about you! Morph after you, you after that southern weasel, him after Rogue, Rogue after magnet man!” Wolverine ranted before chugging some beer.

“What do you mean ‘Morph after me’?” You asked in confusion, looking up at Morph’s embarrassed face.

“Nothing! He means nothing!” Morph glared at Wolverine, who simply rolled his eyes and went back to his beer.

You grumbled in frustration, finishing your beer and tossing it before leaving. Everything was so confusing in this place, there were love triangles everywhere you looked and apparently, you were in a few of your own. You just wanted Remy to look at you how he looked at Rogue, why was that so hard?

*later that day…*

“Ya know jus’ how ta rile Gambit up, don’ ya chere?” Remy growled in your ear as he kicked shut his bedroom door behind him, your lips locked on his jawline, leaving large and dark hickies behind as your hands clawed at his trench coat. He moaned slightly at your actions, his hands feeling up your body that he carried in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and plush thighs as he walked the both of you over to his bed. His room was dark and smelled of his colonge, his sheets surprisingly soft as he laid you down on it, immediately climbing on top of you and letting his hands trail up your sides to your breasts, squeezing them and making you toss your head back and bite your lip as he played with them.

“Remy, please!” You whined, desperately needing to feel his touch without your suits blocking his skin. He raked his hands down your chest and abdomen before holding both your thighs in his hands, keeping them wrapped around him as he started to attack your neck with his soft lips. You moaned and grabbed a handful of his wild hair, pushing him closer to you as he sucked at that sweet spot behind your ear that sent shivers down your spine, making your back arch off the bed and press your clothed chests together.

“Why ya always gotta mess wit’ me durin trainin, dollface? Nearly fucked me right there in front’a ol Morph and Scott.” He said between kisses, his red and black eyes watching your face as you moaned and but your lip for him.

“I can’t…can’t resist you!” You pulled his hair so his lips would meet yours in a frantic kiss. “So handsome…so sexy…so wonderful…” you moaned between kisses, out of breath but not caring as you kissed him again and again.

“Aw, you charm Gambit, mon cherie~” he smiled and pulled away from the kiss, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. “How bout you show Gambit how sexy he is, huh?”

You smiled excitedly as he got off you so both of you could undress quickly, tossing clothes carelessly onto the floor, so focused on each others bodies you couldn’t care less about the mess. As soon as the both of you were undressed, you grabbed Remy by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, your pussy sitting atop his dick but not penetrating yourself just yet. You started with kissing his chest and teasing his nipples with your tongue as he folded his arms behind him to watch the show, his usual shit eating grin on his face as he watched you ravage his body. Your hands glided along his sculpted abs, following his happy trail down to his cock, one hand palming it while the other continued to feel up his body. After some more teasing, he bucked his hips up into your hand and raised an eyebrow at you, giving you the signal that he was getting tired of your teasing.

“So impatient~” you purred, trailing a finger down his chest as you crawled down the bed until your face was level with his cock. You grabbed it fully in your hand finally, making him sharply inhale as you started to move your hand slowly up and down his shaft. His arms moved to grip the sheets as you opened your lips to suck on his tip gently, swirling your tongue teasingly and watching him squirm below you. You smirked with a mouthful of his dick until his hand grabbed your hair and shoved you down, his cock quickly hitting the back of your throat, making you choke and gag around him. He heartily laughed at your reaction as he moved your head at the pace he pleased, eventually letting go once you found a good rhythm for him. You gripped his thighs when his hips bucked up into your face, warning you that he was about to cum. You braved yourself by squeezing his thighs until his semen sprayed down your throat, then rubbed his thighs as you swallowed everything he gave you.

“Fuck, chere!” Remy panted as he came down from your high, watching you sit up and wipe your mouth elegantly, your eyelashes batting at him sexily as he caught his breath. He suddenly sat up and pushed you face first into the bed so your ass was up and your face buried in the covers. You moaned as you felt his hand grab a handful of your ass and grope it, before smacking it hard enough to leave a red mark, making you yelp and grip the sheets beneath you. “Think ya can take Gambit now?”

“Yes! Please, Remy! I need you so badly!” You begged him, tilting your head to make eye contact with him behind you. He smirked and slapped your other cheek, chuckling when you squeaked and buried your face into the covers to hide your blushing face. You gasped when he tugged your hair harshly, before feeling the tip of his cock prod at your entrance. Your back arched impossibly more as he slowly entered you, whining as you felt every inch of him in detail slip into you.

He leaned down to press his chest to your back and place a few kisses on your bare shoulder, asking, “Ya alright, chere? Ready for Gambit?”

You nodded desperately and soon felt his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. You let out a choked out moan as he picked up his pace, hearing the smack of his hips against your ass as he thrusted harder and harder. You whimpered out his name pathetically like a prayer, before feeling his free hand slip beneath you and his fingers beginning to rub and pinch at your clit. You cried out at the feeling of all this stimulation at once, Remy’s skilled fingers and hips fucking you just right into his mattress.

“R-Remy, please! Fuck! Rem, I-I’m gonna…ah!” You screamed as he pistoned in and out of you, his hand pulling your hair harshly and his fingers playing with your clit expertly. “Please please please please please! Gambit! R-Rem!”

“Cum fer Gambit, mon ange! You can do it!” He huffed, out of breath from the workout of fucking you. You gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned pale as you shut your eyes, feeling the coil inside of you snap with one last harsh thrust of his hips into your pussy. Gambit slowly fucked you through your orgasm, pulling out and rubbing your pussy softly as he set your shaking body down on his bed, getting up and heading to his bathroom. You heard the sink run, before he returned with a washcloth to wipe down your inner thighs. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your abdomen spasming as you came down from your high.

Once clean, he tossed the wash cloth onto the floor with the rest of your clothes and got back into bed with you, tugging the covers over you as he pulled you to his chest. You cuddled into him, hands around his abdomen and face buried into his hairy chest. He mindlessly played with your hair as the both of you relaxed and rested together, holding the other in comfortable silence as your eyes began to feel heavy.

“Remy?” You shyly spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah chere?” He asked, not moving his eyes from staring up at the ceiling.

“I um…what are we?”

You felt his hand stop playing with your hair and his breath hitch, before he let go of you and sat up, fidgeting with the covers as you slowly sat up with him, holding the covers up to your chest.

“What’s this about, mon chere?”

“You know what it’s about. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this if this is all we’ll ever lead to. I have too many strong feelings for you to do this to myself. I…I love you, Remy.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, and unreadable expression on his face, before he slowly dissolved into laughter. You glared at him and smacked his shoulder, pouring that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Y/N! Gambits sorry, it’s just…why does this shit always gotta be so damn complicated?”

“You’re telling me.” You grumbled. “Well? What are we? Answer me.”

“We are…we are friends with benefits currently, no?” He grabbed one of your hands. “Y/N, Gambit loves ya very much, it’s just…he also loves Rogue still too. He couldn’t give ya the full attention ya wanted, not right now at least. It ain’t fair to ya, but I love ya both, at least for now.”

You looked at him sadly, despite already knowing he still loved Rogue. You thought about how Morph felt the same way you did about him, and how Gambit felt the same way about Rogue. It was a complicated love triangle…square? Whatever. It was complicated, full of strong feelings, but you knew what you all felt was real and valid for each other.

“I think I can live with that for now.” You sighed, giving him a sad smile before leaning in to kiss him.

#x men 97 #xmen x reader #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau

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colorlessjay · 2 months ago

Text

Here's a Destiel prompt based on a doodle I did but also Chappell Roan:

Dean Winchester is your average picture perfect American boy. Tall, blonde, football team quarterback, Kansas sweetheart with a little brother he's way too over protective of, and a southern drawl he swears he doesn't exaggerate. He's brash and rude, his confidence making him an easy target for over excited crowds and the occasion fights. The girls at school want him when he gives them a wink and a smile, and most guys envy him. Wish they were him.

But Dean had his eyes set on the unattainable

Castiel Novak. the Student body vice president who seems to fly through school like he was above it all. But not in the obnoxious 'I'm better than you' way in most teen movies. No, Castiel radiates an energy. One of pure intent, kindness, and joy that makes people fall for his hypnotic blue eyes

People like Dean, Castiel's best friend, and the guy he confides in more often than not

And Dean hates that he does. Because Castiel,for all his intelligence, was as clueless as they come

So whenever Castiel asks him to wingman for him

It's months worth of heartache and fake smiles as he watches Castiel pull every trick Dean taught him

Because Dean Winchester? He's the practice boy

-----

Castiel, wanting to the full college experience, asks his best friend Dean to help on how to date/seduce girls (Since Dean is really good at it and has been in relationships before. But only to distract from his massive crush on Cas)

And Dean, being a good friend, walks Cas through every step regardless of how much it hurts to flirt with Cas, only for Cas to use those same words and actions on girls

And one day, Cas asks Dean how to kiss. If he'll be a good kisser. Castiel's self conscious about it. Self deprecating and confused cause his lips are always chapped and his hair always a mess. And he's scared he won't close his eyes

And Dean just goes on about how those can be good things. How they're attractive. Blurting out stuff he personally feels about kissing Cas

"Your hair's perfect for kissing, short and soft and perfect to hold"

"If she doesn't like your eyes when you kiss, then she's blind as a bat!"

"Your lips look chapped but I'll bet my Baby they're as soft as the look you get when you see a bee"

"hell! Given the chance, I'd kiss you and I'd be the one left breathless"

And of course, they practice kissing

And Dean was right. It leaves him breathless

Leaves him heartbroken too when he finds Cas kissing Meg the same way a week later

-------

"I can't take it anymore, Cas! I'm so fucking tired of being your goddamn practice dummy!" Dean turns around, finally facing Castiel after he storming off "Yeah, I asked for it. It was fucking stupid to even suggest it, but you can't be so goddamn blind to not see that everything I've said, everything I've taught you, was more then just a shitty flirting lesson to me!"

Castiel stops in his chase, staring at Dean wide eyed as the rain picks up

Dean powers on, pacing and flailing "Fuck me for thinking the way you kissed me meant something then just practice" he laughs humorlessly then lets out a sob

"Fuck, Cas…" Dean looks up. his hand coming down to clutch at his wet shirt. Tears and rain running down his face "It meant something to me… you saying it otherwise doesn't change that… it just makes it hurt"

Castiel stared wide eyed and frozen. His mind flashes back to every interaction, every little touch, every word said between them

And all he could muster up was

"Dean…"

#destiel #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #spn fanart #castiel fanart #writing prompt #fic prompt

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vitalverstappen · 2 months ago

Text

Homecoming - C. Leclerc

summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival?

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver! reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n

word count: 5.5k

a/n: so @coco-loco-nut (aka my irl bestie) and i both wrote fics based on the same concept, theirs is linked at the end!

smau

masterlist

Contrary to popular opinion, Monaco was one of, if not your least favorite racetrack. It was narrow, making it hard to pass and way too easy to defend. Analysts would say all of that makes the Grand Prix exciting, while you found it to be just plain stupid. For the last half of the race, you were stuck in a DRS train in 10th, sandwiched between Alex in front and Pierre behind.

“Fucking hell guys, this is boring.” You complained over the radio “Sorry I can’t do any better right now”

And you couldn’t do any better the rest of the race. While your race was nowhere near eventful, you were able to get glimpses of the screens showing Charles crossing the checkered flag first at his home race. You didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on your face. He had worked all of his life for this moment. He deserved every bit of euphoria.

You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him.

“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug

“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out.

As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race.

“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl”

A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.”

Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say.

When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque.

Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it.

“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting.

“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media”

“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed

You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone.

“What are you doing?” You whispered

Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing”

You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations.

Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves.

You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.

Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you.

He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand.

That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke

“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit

“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied.

“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?”

You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender.

“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered

Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was.

“You know my drink order?” You asked

“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight”

It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous.

But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night.

The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid.

“So what’s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked

“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic

Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him”

“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed

“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded

You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.

“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him”

Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”

“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject.

The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you.

“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours

“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”

“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased

You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug.

“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern

“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him.

Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends.

“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street.

It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed.

You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name.

“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom.

His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark”

Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room.

Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet.

Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context.

With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.

You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.

“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice

You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad”

“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted”

The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back.

“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked

Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry”

“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?”

Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness”

Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse.

“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.

Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings.

“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.”

The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious.

“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face

“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando

“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out

“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing”

“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep”

“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco.

“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”

Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.”

Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.

“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room

“I have no idea” You admitted “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”

The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans.

Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.

“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum

From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over.

“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat

“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.”

Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him.

“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans

Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race.

As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different.

You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend.

“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.

“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied

“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?”

“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.

“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun”

Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow”

You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points.

And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.

The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively.

“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you.

Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step”

You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know”

After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid.

“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug

“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?”

“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said

As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock.

“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day.

Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine.

“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”

Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand.

“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?”

“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried”

Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.

“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked

“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious.

“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max.

A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.”

Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer.

“How do you know that?” He asked

“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday. She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.”

“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth.

“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.

The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed.

Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!”

“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms

“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?”

A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair”

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race.

You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours

He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink

“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”

The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.

“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.

“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you.

As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender.

“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.

Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”

“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.

When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.

“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.

Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.

You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”

As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.

At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.

You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment.

“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you

Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.”

You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight”

He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell.

“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face

“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption

“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response.

“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time”

Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy”

You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much”

The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.

As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having.

“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious

You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?”

Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.”

He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it”

You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing

Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?”

He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?”

You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him.

Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin.

“You wanna get out of here?” You asked

“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand

======

want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!

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l0vergirlsw0rld · 4 months ago

Note

Need fluff with logan and a southern reader pretty pretty pls!!!

I’m from a hawt place so a winter man in a winter cabin is needed right about now. Please can I request headcanons or a one shot about the reader that bakes him so many sweets/makes so much food for winter he gets chubby and notices, maybe they swap recipes or bake together? Just so much domestic fluff

It’s a primal need to see this man happy, unbothered in the Canadian wilderness, thriving with anything his heart wants and I know I can make that happen lmao

taste of home

bigdaddy!loganxsouthern!reader

a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3 a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3

wc: 1k

18+ MDNI | sexual themes, FLUFF, the name daddy is used.

summary: Y/N has been a little homesick lately and found a temporary cure through baking for Logan.

"What're you getting all dolled up for?" Logan cooed from the doorframe he was leaning on, his arms crossed.

Your eyes met his reflection in the mirror of your vanity.

"Nothin', just felt like being pretty." You smiled up at him as you put on your pearl earrings.

It was true, you had nowhere to go. Logan's cabin was located in quite literally the middle of nowhere. Miles and miles of trees surrounded the property secluding you both from any and all civilization.

Back home, it was part of your routine to get ready for the day even though all you'd do was stay home. There was something fulfilling about looking your best every day: if you looked good, you felt good.

You had felt a little homesick lately.

Logan had dragged you deep into the Canadian forests for the winter because he couldn't stand the southern heat that you were used to. At first, you weren't a fan of the idea, but seeing as how happy it made Logan, it made the move all worthwhile.

He'd let go of his negative ways, he was now affectionate, talkative, and adventurous. His being away from all the stress allowed him to show you some of his other colours and vibrant ones at that.

"What do you always say... as pretty as a plum?" He snorted.

"As a peach. It's pretty as a peach." You giggled.

"Well then, darling, you're as pretty as a peach." He corrected himself, pushing off the door frame and walking up behind your chair.

"Why thank you, Daddy," You blushed as he placed a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder.

"God, I love it when you call me that." He groaned into your skin, giving you a soft bite.

You giggled from the slight pinch and finished getting ready with a few final pats of powder.

"Mmm, as much as I'd want to do that with you right now, know what day it is. It's my baking day, Lo'." You tipped your head back and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek.

"Can't you do it tomorrow baby?" He huffed.

"You know it's tradition, Sunday is baking day. Do you want more sweets or what?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, mam'." He chuckled, taking a seat on the bed and letting you get to your work station.

He knew how serious you got about your baking, it was your primary way of curing your homesickness.

You'd always keep a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge and cupboards stocked with fresh bread and goodies. Logan could not bring himself to complain, he had developed a major sweet tooth since being with you. Every time you'd make new batches they would be gone in a matter of a few days. It's as if he'd eat one each time he'd pass by them.

You didn't mind though, it warmed your heart to see how much he enjoyed your baking. Often you'd find some powdered sugar left in his beard.

"You should watch it with those," You'd warn him as he devoured them, one by one.

"I got bones of steel. No need to worry baby, sugar is the last thing that'll take me out." He mumbled with his mouth full, not being able to control himself around your delicious treats.

His favourites were your peach cobbler, lemon bars and peanut butter-chocolate fudge. Those were also conveniently the easiest ones to make. You had tried to teach Logan how to make them on his own, but it never stuck.

"Why are they flat like pancakes? I followed your recipe," He had come to you while you left him unsupervised in the kitchen. You put your embroidery down and peered into the baking pan.

"Did you use baking powder?" You poked the gooey top of his 'cupcake.'

"Yes." He grumbled.

"Are you sure it was baking powder and not baking soda?" You tasted the batter, making a face. Salty.

"There's a difference?" His eyebrows furrowed.

Baking didn't come naturally to Logan, and that was okay. You had your strengths and he had his, which is what made you two work so well together.

You spent the entire day working up a storm in the kitchen.

Multitasking the different steps for each recipe with ease. You had spent so much time of your life baking that tackling multiple projects at once didn't even make you break a sweat. Logan turned his leather armchair to face you from across the house so he could watch you.

He enjoyed watching you get lost in your little head as you worked. The way your plump lips wrapped around your finger when you taste-tested the recipes, making sure they were just right for him. The slight lift of your dress as you bent over to grab some pans from storage. Your flushed skin, glowing underneath the kitchen light. That little sigh of relief would escape you as you tied your hair up from the heat of the oven. Just like that, silently, he'd ogle you from his corner, sipping his favourite whiskey, and watching his favourite doll.

Of course, at any chance he'd get he'd be there to come help you when you needed him to reach some things that were too high up or lift the heavy sac of flour on the counter for you.

Today, you had made the biggest batches yet, pans of cooling sweets covered your entire kitchen surface.

"Whoa baby, what're you feeding, the army?" Logan teased as he walked by shirtless.

When you first started seeing Logan, he was in optimal shape. He was nothing but an angry mess of hair and muscle. But since he moved you into the cabin, he had started putting on a few extra pounds, most likely from his overconsumption of your treats.

"No, I'm feeding a Wolverine that's clearly getting ready for winter." You teased back, poking his stomach.

He stopped in his tracks and peered down at his hair-covered gut.

In no way shape or form did he look bad with the added weight, if anything you like him having a few extra layers?

"You callin' me fat?" Grinned mischievously.

"I was just playin- ah Logan!" You gasped as he threw you over his shoulder with a swift motion. Holding your ass right next to his face with his arm. He hoisted up your dress with his free hand, revealing your white bow panties. Your legs kicked in protest.

"Daddy, stop it- you're not fat-"

"That's not very nice baby, gonna need to punish you." He chuckled giving you a hard spank on the cheek, then placed you back down.

"Now if you will excuse me, I've gotta get ready for winter." He winked as he grabbed the cookie closest to him. Sinking with teeth in it with that smile you oh so fell in love with.

🏷️: @babey-fruit-bat <3

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aesthetixhoe · 7 months ago

Text

warnings: cursing

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT sharing a bed with sam.

two rooms were always the standard when you would stay at hotels on a hunt. one room with two queens, and one room with a single bed for you. it's always worked. until now when the hotel receptionist told you she only had two rooms, both with only one king bed.

“well, hope you like sleeping on the floor, princess.” he smacks sam in the chest, sam rolling his eyes in response. “but seriously, who's bunking with who?”

“is that even a question? i am not listening to you snoring all night! i'll room with sam.” dean raises his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

“suit yourself. like i said, have fun on the floor.” he taps sam's shoulder before grabbing his key and walking to his room

once inside you both realize how small the bed is. “oh, king bed my ass.” you groan out, dropping your bag on said bed, and walking into the bathroom.

sam chuckles before saying, “it's fine, it'll be big enough for you, it's basically a queen.”

you peak your head out from the bathroom, “who said i'm sleeping alone?”

“uh, me?” sam retorts, snickering after.

“Uh, me?” You mock, walking out with your toothbrush in your mouth. “I don't care, we're sharing the bed, I'm not letting you sleep on the gross motel floor. You'll get a disease.”

sam raises his hands in a faux surrender, “hey, i won't complain.”

“but hey, if we're sharing a bed, i get first shower.” you tease as you grab a change of clothes from your duffle.

after your shower you walk back out to the bed, seeing sam on his stomach already passed out. you decide to stay up for a while longer, looking for a new case, but when you look over and see the alarm clock read 3:16 you decide it's time to sleep.

you try to sneak into the bed but pulling the covers up to get under them wakes sam.

he rolls over and smiles at you, dopey. “mornin’ sunshine.” you say with a southern twang.

“how long did i sleep for?” he questions as he props himself up on his elbow. you slid down to lay on your side facing him, pushed close by the lack of space of the bed.

“only two-ish hours.” you half smile at him. he nods slightly and lies back down. you're so close your knees are bumping each other's, and you can feel each other's breath. it's peaceful like this; the ambient hum of the air conditioner, the relief of solving a case, the only light being the lamppost light bleeding through the curtains.

you shuffle a bit, trying to find a sleep able position, your legs still bumping sam's, but not enough room to back up.

“you can... like, lay on me if you want. to give you more room.” you've never had a problem being close to him. until after he came back from college. something about him was different. something about you was different. you yearned to be close with him, but always too afraid to make a clear statement, and not just dropping hints.

you took a deep breath and scooted closer to him, your leg draped lazily across his thighs, and your head on his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat. the warmth of him. his arm wraps around your waist and it feels like you were made for this. made for him. “is this ok?” you ask softly, afraid that if you spoke too loud he would realize what he's doing and back out.

“yeah... it's nice.” he sighs softly. contently. you relax, feeling your body loosen once again.

your top arm moves out from its place, squished in between you and sam, and finds its way next to his. your fingers, so close. so close you would swear you feel electricity pasting between them. his hand inches closer to yours, his fingers laying on top of yours.

it's such a small gesture, holding hands, but in a way it means everything.

after a few minutes, and you being nearly asleep, his head tilts down to press his lips to your hair. “goodnight [y/n].”

“night sammy.” you whisper. finally feeling safe for the first time in years.

#sam winchester x reader #hoe writes #x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural x reader #hoe speaks #fluff

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gamblersdoll · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘!

you take off yuuji’s cowboy hat, that means you have to ride him, right?

small mentions of roleplay, groping, reverse cowgirl, sexual tension.

yuuji always did like halloween as a kid, he found it pretty cool, and being the curious one he is, he always did a costume at least everyday. whether it was batman or robin, a supervillain he found cool at times, or just a character from a game, he always dressed up every day of october.

today, he was a cowboy. he felt it was like a calling or something, considering he grew up in the southern parts of japan and he also happened to grow accustomed to the south. especially since nobara was southern as well.

the difference between you both were you really only dressed up on the night of halloween, thats what you really were supposed to do. but, you indulged in his shenanigans, feeling his hands slip around your hips and his breath fanned over your head. “you from ‘round here?” he asks in the most southern accent hes ever picked up, a smile pulling at his lips.

a smile pulls at your lips, too. a smirk pulling as well and you turn your head to the side a bit. “i sure am, sir.” you say, feeling him get closer and get close in your ear. “ha’nt seen you ‘fore, either.”

he flips you around, tilting your head up and he licks his lips. “yeah, sweetheart?” he says, biting his lip when you pull his pink cowboy hat off his head and plop it onto yours. “i reckon that you musn’t do that, unless you want to ride somethin’.”

“well, i reckon that i do, mister.” you tease, his lips pressing onto yours and his hands slide down your back to your round ass and gropes the flesh, lips attacking your neck.

you moan, his hands scooping you up and having you ontop of him once he lays himself down on the bed. your hips move in circles in his lap, feeling his growing erection as he paws at your breasts. “youre makin’ me so hard..”

“yeah?” you giggle, licking his lips and pulling his cock from his confinements. your body flips around and you hover over his leaking cock. he groans, squeezing your cheeks in his hands as he lies back.

he helps you slide down, his thick, veiny cock stretching you just a tad. you both groan in the feeling of him sinking deep, your hips already knowing to sit back on him and your knees already prepared. he mumbles a ‘ you okay?’ and you nod. eyes rolling back, you circle your hips and start to lift yourself half way until you slam yourself back to his base.

“oh, damn..” he moans, a hand over his eyes and he bites his lip.

you moan, too. his cock twitching slow and feeling himself brick up even harder than usual.. “like that, baby?” you ask, the bed springs creaking just a bit. you place your hands on his chins, steadying yourself as he slightly fucks up into you.

“yeah, just like that, pretty.” he praises, a hand coming down and slapping your ass. he opens his eyes, watching your cunny pull up and how he stretches between your folds. its a sight to see, for him. his pretty baby fucking her cunt onto his cock, taking it well.

you lean forward more, your back straight and chest pressing against the bed as your hips do all of the work now. “gunna make me cum..” you whine out, his hands resting on the shelf of your ass. “so close, ‘dori…”

“yeah? me too..” he retorts, eyes rolling back for a second and his hips take over, stilling your hips so he can fuck up into you. “oh, shit, oh shit, fuck!”

“yuujiiiii!” you moan, an arm reaches back and takes his hand into yours. “thought— i was doing all the work?” you surprisingly moan out, drool soaking into the sheets and tweaking with your own nipples.

“cant help it, cant help it, oh fuuuck!” he grunts, not sure why his body was moving on its own. his cock twitches when you clamp down, his legs tensing up. “you really cummin hard, baby.”

how he knew you were about to cum before you did was beyond you. but he was right, your squealing muffled by the thick sheets he had bought for the both of you. your legs shake, his thrusts becoming more rapid and fierce as he reaches the end of the tunnel to bliss and paradise, a shout from his lips as he creams himself inside you.

translucent white and a thicker creamy white seep down his shaft, coating his heavy balls as you both recollect yourselves. his eyes snap to you, pulling you back to his chest by his hand and tossing the pink cowboy hat to the side. “you ‘kay?” he asks, holding you to his chest.

“mmhh..” you shuffle, your knee almost hitting his junk.

“watch it—“ he hisses, moving before you could potentially knee him in his balls and tip. “just relax, i gotchu.”

#dvs haunted mansion 🧟‍♀️#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x black! reader #jjk yuji #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #jujutsu itadori #itadori yuuji #jjk itadori #yuuji x reader #yuji x you #itadori x reader

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notebooks-and-laptops · 1 month ago

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Anarcharisms, LGBT+ characters and cultures and How I'd Write Taash's Storyline

Taash was one of my favourite characters in DATV. As somsone who is genderqueer, genderfluid and still exploring all that, I also really appreciated their story. In our world today, its vital that stories about non-binary and trans characters are told to wider audiences. However, once again, the softening of Thedas; its culture and its people, led to kinda shitty writing.

So lets get it out of the way: it feels anachranistic when Taash says 'non-binary'. This isn't to say that you can never use modern LGBT+ vocabulary in a fantasy world; fantasy worlds are fantasy and you can do whatever you want with that. But Dragon Age has never used these terms before; words like gay, non-binary, trans; they haven't existed in the Dragon Age universe. Instead, Dragon Age in the past has opted for explorations via in-world cultures such as the Qun having a specific word; aqun-athlok.

I kinda think this has attitude has some rather uncomfortable undertones that just weren't thought through: being non-binary, genderqueer, genderfluid, these things have always existed. But implying the need for modern vocabulary about them, reinforces the idea that LGBT+ identities are 'modern', 'current' that they never could have existed before these words were coined. The fact that Dragon Age didn't use the word gay but does non-binary it just...makes me feel a little bit like they thought they could ask us to imagine gay people in a world before the term gay was invented, but didn't have that same idea to show us how non-binary people could exist before we had modern terms for them.

Dragon Age has also in the past hinted at nuanced ideas of how various cultures might see gender and gender identity. The Qun for example, based on what both Iron Bull and Sten say, appears to see gender identiy as tied to your 'role' or 'job'. Meanwhile, Tevinter has Maevaris, who has thrived and inhereted a seat in the magisterum while still being trans but seems to experience some prejudice from conservative magisters.

This game wacks nuance out the window and opts instead for a softening of everything (see my post here for more on that). So despite Taash's storyline supposedly being about exploring their multi-cultural heritage, there isn't actually a lot of space for exploring any culture at all in Thedas throughout this game.

But here's my pitch on how I'd fix it:

Firstly, I'd make it so that there was a specific word that Tevinter had for being non-binary that the Qun doesn't. Much like how it pans out in the game, Taash could meet with shadow dragons, realise this and explore it, and find it fits. They would still use they/them pronouns and state as such.

But then, when Taash came to tell their mum, I'd have Taash's mum say that she always thought that Taash might be aqun-athlok because they fight. This would push forward that idea of gender-identiy in the Qun being completely different to how Southern Thedas sees it, with it largerly being attached to your job.

Taash would then explain no, they are [insert Tevinter Word Here]. At which point, the point of contention would come from the fact that Taash has adopted a Tevinter word and identity. This would mirror the way conservatives in some countries across the world see/frame LGBT+ issues as a western concept. Taash's mum would have a problem with this especially because Tevinter and the Qun have been at war for centuries (something you'd be hard pressed to realise in this game despite the fact that it feels like it really should have come up at some point but I digress). This would then tie this plotline with Taash's exploration of their heritage and culture and what it means to be qunari.

I'd also make it so that theres no neat 'they' in qunlat. This would again mirror how some languages are more gendered and thus non-binary people have that to deal with. This again would link to a real world issue, but would feel like it was exploring cultural issues in thedas, not softening anything. Taash's mum would be upset that there was no way to refer to Taash in their shared tongue that she currently knew of.

Finally, instead of having the scene where Isabela teaches us how to be a good ally which feels...well. Written poorly? More tell than show? I'd scrape that, and instead have us meet a very cool non-binary qunari who is actually from the Qun and follows the Qun. Taash could connect with them, and see that Qunari DO have a non-binary identiy (maybe they use neo-prounouns that work in Qunlat) that its okay to be qunari and be non-binary and that people have done it before them and will do it after them.

These are tiny changes, but it would make the culture in Thedas feel so much more vibrant and real, and explore how things actually function in the world, you know? It would make gender-identity tie in deeply with this world we've set up and known for years, and it wouldn't feel anarchanistic.

#dragon age #datv #taash #veilguard spoilers

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unboundprompts · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I’ve never really used this ask thing before— so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. I love your prompts and other works and was wondering if you could help me figure out how to write and describe accents? My characters have very specific accents (Australian accents, British accents, etc.) and I’m having trouble figuring out how to show that. This is a fantasy setting so I couldn’t just describe their accents as an Australian accent and such y’know? I’m so sorry if this doesn’t make sense. Would you be able to help?

How to Write a Character with an Accent

-> How to Write Character Accents

-> How to Convey Accents in Fiction Writing

Make sure your character’s speech isn’t distracting

When writing dialect or a particular accent, it can be tempting to write a character’s dialogue using phonetic spellings. However, this use of dialect can distract your reader. If your character is French and is constantly saying “ze” instead of “the,” the reader will be focusing more on decoding the line of dialogue than they will on plot or character development. When writing fiction, your reader’s attention should always be on the story, and anything that distracts from that probably isn’t worth including.

Slang and Colloquialisms

Incorporate regional slang, colloquialisms, or idioms that reflect the accent. Each accent has its own unique phrases that can suggest the character's background.

Include Snippets of their Native Language

If you’re writing a character who speaks a foreign language, one way to communicate their accent is to simply include snippets of their native tongue in their lines of dialogue. This will demonstrate the character’s native language and implied accent without resorting to the distracting eyesore of phonetic spelling.

Don't Stereotype

Writing different dialects indelicately can make you appear condescending towards non-native English speakers or people who use the English language differently than you do. One of the most common offenders is the use of “eye dialect,” which refers to using misspellings or nonstandard spellings in order to depict a character’s accent (for instance, writing “fixin’” with an apostrophe instead of “fixing” in order to demonstrate Appalachian or Southern accents). By focusing on the “otherness” of regional dialects and non-native speakers, a writer may give the impression that they are making fun of the way people speak. When writing different accents, keep eye dialect to a minimum.

Rhythm and Intonation

Accents often have distinctive rhythms and intonations. Pay attention to how the accent changes the flow of speech. For instance, British accents might have a more clipped and precise quality, while Australian accents can sound more relaxed and drawn out.

You might describe this in your narrative, saying something like, "Her words rolled out with a casual lilt, the vowels stretching like lazy waves."

Character Reactions and Context

Show how other characters react to the accent. If a character speaks in a heavy accent, others might lean in to listen, nod in confusion, or make a comment. This helps highlight the uniqueness of the speech.

Physical Description

Consider linking the accent to physical traits or background details. Describe the character’s upbringing or location, giving hints about their accent through their surroundings or lifestyle.

Example: “Raised in the bustling markets of Evermere, his accent was a musical blend of the old tongue, softening the hard edges of his words.”

Subtlety in Dialogue Tags

Instead of writing out the accent in every piece of dialogue, you can subtly hint at it through the dialogue tags. For example, “he said, his voice dripping with the easy lilt of the southern coast” can convey the accent without explicit phonetic spelling.

#writing prompts #creative writing #writeblr #dialogue prompt #prompt list #ask box prompts #how to write #how to write accents #how to write a character with an accent #accent writing #how to write characters #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #writing tools

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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago

Text

barrys girl

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, protected sex (yayyy!), open relationship, barrys girlfriend!reader, curvy!reader, mentions of drugs and guns, mention of possible/future threesome

“come on, bears.” you coo, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders as you call him by your favorite nickname. “you should go easy on him.”

“and why should i do that princess?” barry looks up to you, away from the scared teen shivering on the opposite couch.

“he's cute.” you coo, smiling at rafe, and then back at barry. “pleeease, bears.”

“fine.” he growls out. he doesn't mind your open relationship, it allows him to sleep around too, knowing he always has you to come back home to. the only time he doesn't appreciate it is when it gets in the way of his business deals.

“you're the best.” you press your lips against barrys, giving him a passionate kiss, putting on a full display for rafe, still worried about the money he owes, but now confused as well.

“come on.” you say, and it takes rafe a second to realize you're talking to him.

“what's going on?” he asks, long eyelashes fluttering.

“barry is gonna forgive what you owe as long as you fuck me. that is, if you want to fuck me?”

rafe looks you up and down. despite being confident with women, he can admit when someone is out of his league, and just by the way your shorts cling to your ass, he knows this is a rare opportunity.

“of course i want to.” he jumps up, knees bumping into the coffee table, making the glasses rattle.

“well thank barry then come on.” you walk into the bedroom, waiting for rafe to follow.

“isn't that your girlfriend?” rafe whispers, keeping his voice down in case you hear.

“yeah. so fuck her good, man.” barry waves him away, ready to move onto other business now that rafe is taken care of.

“thanks.” rafe says, quickly moving into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. he takes a deep breath of relief for not having to explain yet again why he can't pay barry back.

“all good sugar?” you ask, southern accent barely licking the edges of your words, just enough to tell rafe you're not exactly from these parts.

“yeah-” rafes eyes focus, and there you are, on the bed completely naked, large tits and thick thighs all on display for him to see.

“don't be shy.” you smile softly. rafe takes a minute to admire the gorgeous features of your face, your dark eyebrows and full, rosy lips, before his eyes move lower, catching on where your legs meet.

“you gonna fuck me or what?” you spread your legs, and rafe swears he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, bare, pink, and juicy wet for him.

rafe is aware of your eyes on him as he quickly undresses, wishing he would have worked out this morning just to have even more muscles on show for you.

by the time rafe pushes his underwear down his thighs, he's already hard.

you smile approvingly at his cock before tossing a condom at him. barry is the only one who gets you raw, and same with him with other girls, it's just the code you agreed upon.

rafe slides the rubber over himself, moving over to kneel on the bed when suddenly barry bursts through the door.

“chill, country club, just gotta grab something.” he laughs when seeing the scared look on rafes face, worried he fell into some sort of trap. barry goes over to the dresser, pulling a gun out and tucking it into the back of his shorts.

“ill be back, baby.” barry now addresses you. “gotta go take care of somethin’.”

“okay, be safe bears. rafey will keep me company until you're back.”

barry leans over the bed, unfazed by how naked you are, or rafes still hard cock resting against your bare cunt. he presses a kiss against your lips, just like he always does before leaving.

his eyes move down your body, definitely going to have to fuck you when he gets home. “so, that's what you're working with country club.” barry chuckles as rafes hands scramble to cover his cock.

“leave him alone, barry.” you roll your eyes, giving his chest a shove.

“alright, alright.” barry backs out with his hands raised, shutting the door behind him.

“he's just being a dick. still wanna fuck? if you don't i won't make you.” you sit up, placing a hand on rafes shoulder. “and i won't tell barry anything. he'll still forgive whatever you owe.”

“i-i still wanna fuck you.” rafes hands move away and you can see he's even harder after having barry see him. you make a mental note to remember that for later, for the next debt rafe inevitably ensues like all addicts do.

you nod, flipping over onto your hands and knees. you lower your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to rafe.

his large hands grip your plump bottom, pushing your thighs farther apart to look at your pussy again.

“gonna eat it first?” you giggle, swaying your hips from side to side. “or you just enjoying the view?”

rafe doesn't answer, simply swipes a finger through your folds and brings it to his mouth, moaning when he tastes the wetness on his tongue. he wastes no more time, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in steadily.

“fuck, that's good.” you moan, pressing your face into the mattress to silence your moans as rafe begins to move.

his eyes stay on your ass, watching the way your skin ripples with his every thrust.

“you're so hot.” rafe mumbles, making you laugh against the bedsheets, pushing yourself up to your hands as you begin to move back against rafe, meeting his thrusts.

“fuck, y/n.” you love the way your name sounds on rafes lips as his hands move up to your waist, holding you there by your soft flesh.

“harder.” you moan out. “harder, please.”

rafe listens instantly, increasing the pace and how deep his thrusts are going, not holding back as he pounds into you.

“yeah, like that!” you moan out, listening to rafes grunts over your shoulder as he fucks you, gaining confidence with every movement.

rafe moves one hand to your ponytail, gripping your curls between his fist as he pulls your head back, making you let out a sensual whine.

“you like that?” rafe questions, hips pumping into you, but it's clear by your moans and the gush of wetness to your pussy that you like the way it feels.

rafe keeps one hand on your waist to keep you pulling back against him, not allowing you to stop or slow down, even as your legs begin to tire.

“gonna-gonna have barry watch next time.” you say, knowing it will only spur rafe on more. “then you can watch him fuck me.”

“yeah?” rafe moves faster, knees digging into the bed. “you like being passed around like a slut? might as well invite all my friends to have a go at you as well.”

“do they also owe barry money?” you joke, letting out a breathy laugh before it turns into a gasp as rafe tugs at your ponytail.

“god, you feel so- fucking warm.” rafe gasps out.

“gonna cum for me?” you question, feeling rafes cock swell inside of you.

“y-yeah.” it only takes a few more thrusts for rafe to cum with a loud moan of your name, pushing his hips as far forward as he can despite the condom blocking him from spilling inside of you.

“fuck.” rafe pulls out, regretting being finished.

you flip over onto your back, head against the pillows with a soft, sleepy smile on your face. “you were good rafe.”

“i was good?” rafe laughs. “you… your body is incredible.”

you watch as rafe discards of the condom before putting his clothes back on.

“barry will want you to stay until he's back, do you want a snack?” you ask, getting up from the bed, still naked as rafe follows you out of the bedroom.

you eat and chat idly while waiting for your boyfriend to return, rafes eyes occasionally dropping to your tits, or watching your ass when you bend down to pick something up.

“baby, im home!” barry yells, slamming the door shut behind him as he smirks at you, seeing you completely naked and rafe still there with flushed cheeks.

“missed you, bear.” you coo, giving him a kiss that quickly turns passionate as he grips your ass, pulling you against him. by the time you're done kissing your boyfriend and need to pull away for a breath, rafe has already disappeared out of the house.

“where have you been dude?” kelce asks as soon as rafe arrives at the country club for their round of golf.

“dude, you'll never believe it. i just hooked up with barrys girlfriend.” rafe watches kelces face as he processes the news.

“wait, like the super thick baddie? i don't believe you, dude.” kelce rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bro.” rafe doesn't need kelce to believe him, not when he got to experience you for himself.

“come on.” rafe calls, grabbing his clubs. “we're already late!”

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court-jobi · 3 months ago

Text

Alexa, Play...

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24~used w permission))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Southern US!GNreader, comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, language barrier, dancing-in-the-kitchen level self-insert

Summary:

Izuku comes home to spot your grocery list on the fridge written out in your native language- something he sees just as rarely as hearing you speak it. Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek, a laugh thrown his way... or -like now- when you chat over the phone in an accent he never gets to hear. He wants to hear more so badly, and asks for it so sweetly.

A/N: a short n'sweet one today, folks, bc I was missing writing for this sweet green bean. I have yet to see MHA: You're Next, but have no one to see it with ughhhhh so off to writing fanfic to soothe the pain~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

You're on the phone with your mom when Izuku finds your sticky note for shopping on the fridge. His mindful shut of the door was appreciated by your mouthed apology, but let him know that he'd best occupy himself solo for a bit while you catch up. The time difference between your home country and here leaves your windows to chat limited, so he’s happy when your schedules align like this.

If you'll be on a while longer, he thinks he can take a quick drive and pick up these few things for you. Inspired by the idea, he plucks the list out from the magnet’s hold.

You've got nice handwriting, a blend between printed letters and a tilted, cursive script. Personality shines especially near the end of a word, when you're rushing to move onto the next thought.

Painter’s tape

bananas

white vinegar (stupid drain line)

It's so simple, but when it's written in your native language by default, it feels like a secret to be reading even something so simple as a list like this– scribbled out in the way as it appears in your head.

For most formal paperwork, your kana characters are decently executed, though it's always going to be harder when you grew up speaking Japanese rather than filling out lines and lines of bellwork in the kanji style. This isn't to say you've not been trying:

Over the course of your courtship, you've bonded with young Eri as an extension of Izuku's life and have inherited some of her early learning textbooks. You happened on them by accident, when you were helping her paint her room a few months ago. It sounded elementary when you expressed the interest to read and write Japanese better, and the sweet girl was so enthusiastic to help!

She lent you her books, but of course you weren't becoming an expert overnight. However slow you’d pace yourself, Izuku was plenty proud of you for making the effort. He'd allow you as much grace as he could spare– especially since your notes were still so cute to find here and there~

Across the room, pacing along every other tile on the floor like stepping stones, you look up catching Izuku staring. You’ve been deep in conversation for only about an hour, but give him a wrench of your nose in jest, and begin wrapping up the call explaining that he’s home and you’d like to greet him properly.

Izuku calls out a quick 'hi’ and ‘bye' to your mom when he motions to go on speaker; you're not one to refuse him, as he well knows.

You seem pleased on more than one front when he asks to talk to your family, so he continues to do it. For one, you’re touched by how spirited he is to even want to interact with your mother, and his dropping of formalities and reverting to English to speak to her means a lot to you. Neither point is lost on sweet Izuku, based on how your smile brightens when he jogs over to you to be more in speaking range.

When you hang up, you're quick to pop up and kiss him as a welcome home. Izuku hangs onto you a little longer than usual, thumb rubbing into your cheek as he savors you several times in quick succession.

Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek or a laugh thrown his way.

“‘Zuku, what's that look for, babe?”

In your sentimental bliss, you're still surprised to get such adoring treatment from him almost a year into a relationship.

“Nothing,” Izuku chimes back, “I just forget that you're this American sometimes~”

“Whaddya mean, ‘you forget’?!” the concept sounds hilarious to you.

“I do!” Izuku offers to take your phone to plug it in nearby, “I have to remind myself that Japanese isn't your first language, until I see you on FaceTime with your mom. Out of nowhere, I'll just hear you sound so different, like: ‘byyyye~ talk to y'all later’!”

You snort at his attempt at a southern accent– stiff and stuck on the wrong vowels. Clearly this succeeds in amusing you, because you hop up and down on the balls of your feet like you've discovered a new game:

“Oh my God, ‘Texas Smash Deku’ is the stuff of my fantasies!– oo!! say, ‘I’d like a honey butter chicken biscuit’~”

“WHAT?? N-no!!”

“What YES!! Please??”

Both doubled over in laughter, you're entertained over his thorough embarrassment, but you're both smitten and carefree: holding onto each other despite nearly buckling at the knees.

Izuku tries his best to catch his breathe first, determined to explain himself,

“I can't do it right! It's like- you say things- I don't know how to describe it! It's not just the flat, movie star accent.. It's–"

“What, a-- ‘drawl’? ‘Twang’?”

Izuku snaps at the realization.

“Yes!! That!! The country kind, like that chef you watch!”

You've rolled your eyes, stepping out of his kind hold in favor of checking out what takeout he brought home.

“-Hey, no, come back!”

“‘Makin’ fun'ah my accent, I outta smack you’.”

You're far from really mad as you tote around the kitchen getting silverware and soy sauce, but Izuku follows you around like a shadow regardless. Eyes full of that puppy love, he does try to block you in from the pantry closet,

“I’m sorry, honey~”

“No you're not.” --but you're grinning out of forgiveness anyway.

Izuku sneaks a hold on you, reeling you in. It’s cozy in your shared kitchen, alight with just the right amount of overhead lighting and enough space for you two to stand and share tasks.

“I do like hearing you talk like that,” he shares contentedly, “It’s nice to listen to that side of you, especially when you have a lot to say.”

“Yeah well,” you turn into his arms, rather than away, “I'm sure you've noticed already, it comes from her side of the family. Guess I can't really ditch the accent whenever I switch back. The more I think about it… I'm gonna be happy if I can keep sounding like her as I get older. Lets me keep something of hers- even if my ‘dashing hero’ of a man over here thinks I'm being cheeky."

“No, I'm not teasing now! I mean it,” Izuku presses into you, “I only meant, you don't hold back or anything when you're chatty with her.”

He wonders if it stems from shyness, your avoidance of using too much English here at home. If you’re jamming out while doing chores -presuming you’re alone- you’ll switch the station once you know you have an audience.

“Not trying to hide it with you! I'm just out of practice here. No one else in our circle really uses English, so it doesn't come up, I guess.”

You make the point with a wistful aire. Occasionally you'll sub English classes as a favor to Izuku’s effervescent coworker at UA, but not often enough to get too much exposure. He's always been impressed with your Japanese diction, and thinks you could very well go into teaching if you ever wanted a career change.

Still, whether its for work or play, it’s a sound that’s intrinsically you, and there’s a magic to it that Izuku finds himself chasing. A secret power of yours, if he could only unlock it.

“--Plus, I don't think a lot of the slang translates over?” you get comfortable in his arms, locking your fingers behind his neck with no intention of leaving as you muse, “You guys have your own here, and that’s hard to figure out anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Tenderly, you run your nails through his hair, a thoughtful look up to him,

“Do you want me to use it more at home? Lay on the sugar for ya?”

A chance to hear you at your core? Watch your handwritten notes come alive?

“If you want-” Izuku softens, “-if you’re comfortable.”

“Can you understand me though?”

“I can hear you. It only gets hard when you get excited, ‘cuz you talk fast.”

You fuss back at him, “Oh, as if you don't.”

Caught under your hypocritical eye, he can only offer an honest chuckle back, “Fair~”

But for all of your feeling put on the spotlight, you seem to hold a soft spot for the way Izuku makes his requests:

“ ‘I guess I can indulge ya, since you asked so nicely.’ ”

–and it’s enough for him to try his hand to give you a linguistic sparring partner right back:

“ ‘Say something else.’ ”

All English flies out the window when he's looking at you like this, as you fall under a fit of nervous laughter, “What am I supposed to say?!”

“ ‘Sing me a song, my love. Something 'twangy'.”

You giggled, "'Twangy', good Lord…”

Izuku could write novels on everything from your finest features to even your most pensive insecurities, romanticizing each of them into a beautifully imperfect anthology. He does so in his mind, at least, when you’re barely lucid on the edge of sleep but still trying to engage him in meaningful conversation. He’ll do so in the notes on his phone, when he learns of yet another favorite token of yours, and wants to add it to the list of comfort measures he can refer to when you need it most.

And when you prompt Alexa to play your newly revealed ‘Karaoke hours that will never see the light of day’ playlist -the one that’s chock-full of female power ballads which you begin to sing your own rendition to- Izuku is certain his mind nor fingers nor heart can catalog how much more he can possibly love you… though he’ll dance in place with you as he listens and soaks it all in.

#izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku fluff #deku fluff #deku x reader

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