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theetherealbloom · 7 months ago

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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS–

So, um, chat, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.

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skullsandcorals · 11 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/skullsandcorals/738285799236321280/im-dyslexic-im-not-stupid

1. Holy shit I am so happy I found another person who gets how smart Percy is, and gets that every instance of Percy looking/getting called stupid is due to his dyslexia or people not telling him anything.

2. Which book/chapter is this from? I need to bookmark it ASAP and start shouting it from the metaphorical tumblr hills.

3. We really don't talk about how good a mom Sally is? Like yeah she's badass and gentle but like. She respects Percy. When the school system failed Percy, she's the one who still not only believed that he was smart but still acted like it and probably taught him too. Queen mom Sally Jackson right there.

1.) YEAHH EXACTLY. Or his ADHD 😭 It drives me NUTS whenever Percy is treated as the dumb + comedic guy. Like I get what they're saying and why they're saying it, but sometimes his character gets reduced to JUST that and it hurts my soul. I get that he's funny as a narrator and as a character and sometimes he can be a little "clueless" but it just feels like some people like to think of that as either all he is or a huge part of who he is. I believe I've also seen Leo get this treatment despite literally being insanely smart at such a young age so. that's...fun. They can be funny and smart too 😞

2.) It's from the 10th Anniversary edition of The Lightning Thief! It's Rick's cover letter for the first readers of the manuscript & a note from the narrator. I don't have a copy of that edition myself, but I've seen some pictures of it on Rick's blog and someone posted one of the pages on Reddit (where I got it from).

Here's the full page from Reddit (source) & the picture from Rick's blog where the page is visible (source):

3.) YEEEAHHHH I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!! What I would do to get adopted by her rn. The way she talks to him makes me kinda teary-eyed because she's just so...you can just tell how much she loves Percy and that she would do anything to make sure he grew up resilient and kind in a world that's always out to get him. She believes in him so much that it just makes me lose my mind a little. It's just so sweet and I can't help but feel so moved by it.

I'm not sure if you've read Chalice of the Gods, but there's this scene where (spoilers, kinda) Sally talks to Percy after the whole thing with Hebe and honestly this scene makes me want to sob and cry and weep

“You are a lot of things, Percy. But helpless isn't one of them.”

#personal mail ♡#long post #pjo/hoo #percy jackson #sally jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #the lightning thief #chalice of the gods #don't get me wrong tho. i know percy can and had acted clueless or oblivious or whatever.#but my gods. at least think about it for a hot second.#adhd + dyslexia + people just not telling him shit + other characters treating him like he's stupid + gods know what else #i wouldn't have said anything if they were just talking about the book #and about that one specific scene where percy called his teacher an old sot #because he did admit he did not know what the hell that meant.#but c'mon :/. percy will say anything relatively smart and people will discredit the shit out of his intelligence and knowledge 💀#has acted*** just ignore any typos I'm sorry 😭#the impertinent thing isn't even that big of a deal 😭 it's like...one relatively “big” word. but gods forbid right 💀#but anyway I love sally she's great and awesome and no she is not perfect but she sure tries her damn best to be who Percy needs her to be

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pedrosprincesa · 2 years ago

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Songbird

pairings: joel miller x afab!reader

a/n: honestly i just wanted a bit of fluffy and soft joel. maybe old man miller that's surprised to see that you know older music, given your age. they stay in jackson, wyoming because they never should've left. joel is just getting accustomed, but he is happy just to be with his brother 🫡 let me get a little bit of happy and lovey joel.

warnings: major fluff, the breakdown of tough guy miller, age gap (reader is in her twenties, joel is 56 obvi), not proofread and im dyslexic and this is the first thing ive ever wrote for the fanfic community.

word count: 1635

As much as Ellie was a hard ass kid, she still had to make sure Joel came to the junior dance in the community building. Of course you were going to come, but you would probably converse with everyone. She didn't even really want to go, but she heard Dina was possibly making an appearance. Next thing she knew she had been asking for you to give approval on her outfit. "El Belle, you look cute." You smiled and nodded your head.

You was the complete opposite of Joel. Still tough and you didn't take any shit, but when it came to Joel and Ellie, you definitely had a soft spot for them.

They picked you up at the beginning of the trip to Jackson after helping you fight off a runner she encountered on the outskirts of town.

Despite Joel's hard outside appearance, you was a young girl on her own, and what was one more at that point? Once you were cleared from infection, Joel hesitantly let you tag along.

It was a pretty good secret they kept for the first few days, but you were going to find out about Ellie's bite eventually. It was just sooner than they expected. While it did startle you at first, you realized that you had been with Ellie and Joel a few days at that point. Joel wasn't freaked out about it. If Ellie was going to turn, it would've happened already.

Immunity seemed like a joke at first. It's been twenty years and suddenly this fourteen year old comes along. You trusted them though. After all, they could've let you die.

Tagging along for the trip, even if it didn't seem like it, Joel enjoyed it. He wouldn't ever admit that though. He would rarely let a smile slip. However, it was nice having extra backup that he knew could use a gun. As much as he enjoyed Ellie, he enjoyed having an actual adult to talk to—even though you was barely an adult in his eyes. You were the female figure Ellie needed.

Needless to say, Ellie developed quite the attachment to both of you in varying ways. That's why she made Joel promise to come to the dance tonight. If things went south, she could blame something on Joel to leave early. Everyone was too afraid to question Joel.

"I don't want to look cute! I want to look cool. I want Dina to actually like me, not think I'm some dumbass." Ellie insisted, showing you quickly that you didn't have the right things to say. That was one thing about this—you were thrown into essentially raising a teenager.

"Ellie, you look fine." Joel told her and folded his arms across his chest. He had to come closer when the conversation got heated, trying to keep things level. He also knew if he got caught staring at you in the dress you were wearing, Ellie would never let him hear the end of it. But he would silently thank Maria for letting you borrow this dress all night.

"And it's all about how you approach Dina anyway. You gotta take charge, El. And we all know you can do it." you explained, trying to keep it gentle. "She's stupid if she doesn't think you're cool, honey." You let the honey slip off of your tongue. While Ellie didn't exactly say anything about it, she softened a little.

"So, I look fine?" She asked, getting both of your opinions since we were both in the doorway. It was an odd way of a family, but she was growing accustomed to it.

You and Joel nodded your heads at the same time. Joel still had the straight face but you were smiling. Ellie sighed a bit and glanced in her mirror before nodded her head. "Let's do this."

At the dance, Joel kept eyes on Ellie, occasionally you, and he was keeping an eye out for anything odd happening in the room. They were playing old music, from CDs that were miraculously saved over the years. "Old" but it was the stuff Joel grew up on. The beginning of Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac started playing and on his scan of the room, his eyes landed upon you swaying to the music. Letting loose and enjoying the rhythm of the music, the ends of your dress flowing as you moved, you just looked free. He bit back a smile and leaned against one of the brick columns.

"You know this song?" He spoke up finally. You were close enough to him to hear, because you were keeping an eye out for Ellie too. When you glanced back, you caught his smile and it only seemed to grow when he saw how you were glowing.

"Of course! I love Fleetwood Mac. I had a CD, uh," You squeezed your eyes, trying to recall the title. "The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac! I kept it after the whole... outbreak. It was the only thing left of my mom." You explained, your face falling a little bit. "I kept it in my backpack for years, until one day it finally broke. Fell or somethin'." You mentioned, shrugging off the thought. You were trying your best not to sound like that time didn't absolutely break your heart. You lost a CD that reminded you of your mother, but Joel has been through worse. "Were you a fan?" You asked him curiously.

"Saw them in concert once. They had some good stuff, but I was a Def Leppard guy." He chuckled just barely. It was easy to miss, but it was a nice sight to hear.

"Pour some sugar on me?" You asked, making sure you were connecting the right band.

"Wow, you do know your stuff." He smiled a little more, his eyes staying on you a little longer this time. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach, and a blush rose to your cheeks. Hopefully he wouldn't notice it.

You had a thing for Joel. It was hard not to. After spending so much time with him, seeing how he was with Ellie, how he took care of you two. He was always first to stand in between you and danger. He was always ready to fight like hell.

"It's so funny to think you grew up with celebrities and stuff. Do you think any of them actually survived?" You were trying to get the topic off of you, and you watched Ellie dancing with Dina across the room.

"Eh, probably not. Don't think Mick Jagger could've handled all this." He laughed lowly and watched you more when you were looking at Ellie. "What about you?" He brought the conversation back to you. It was a nice, sweet conversation.

"I dunno. I'd like to think I'd walk into one of these places one day and see Stevie Nicks, alive and well, and a complete badass." You smirked a bit and looked up at him, catching his puppy brown eyes already looking at you. He didn't look away, boldly keeping eye contact and his lips curved into a little smile.

Don't Stop transitioned into Songbird to slow it down for the couples and he walked away from the column and towards the floor. "You know this one?" He subtly motioned you out to him, and of course you followed. There wasn't much you wouldn't do for him.

"Songbird. Christine McVie sings the primary vocals." You answered matter-of-factly as you came into him, his hand moving around your waist and yours around his neck and he held your other hand. He pulled you in a little closer, making you gasp softly. His southern gentleman came out as he danced with you.

"You really know your stuff. I'm pleasantly surprised." He half-smiled down at you. You were blushing now and weren't even going to attempt to hide it.

For you, there'll be no more crying

For you, the sun will be shining

And I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

He started half humming, half singing the lyrics to you, and Joel the wannabe singer wasn't so bad.

To you, I'll give the world

To you, I'll never be cold

'Cause I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

It was like a breath of fresh air, having him a little more carefree. He seemed a bit more relaxed just being in Jackson, being with his brother and knowing Tommy was safe.

And the songbirds are singing,

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before

You were surprised he was still singing the words even if it was more rough than the original.

And I wish you all the love in the world

But most of all, I wish it from myself

You sang a little bit of the song with him playfully, feeling him dip you just to make you giggle a little bit more.

And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before, like never before,

Like never before

He brought you up and looked down at you. Just like that, the southern gentleman charm was on high, making you fall for him even more. You were hopeless.

"So what? Are you two finally together now?" Ellie asked abruptly, and Joel pulled back out of respect for the PDA in front of her, but you couldn't help but laugh. Joel was still a bit smiley, but this side of Joel coming out again would be rare so you would take the pieces you got.

"What about you two?" You countered, motioning over to Dina with a smirk and even Ellie got a blush.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedrosprincesa #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller age gap fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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taiyooosworld · 17 days ago

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Donald and Douglas infosheet!!

Dòmhnall 'Donald' McIntosh

The older brother but acts less mature.

190cm (maybe)

Around 26-28 years old.

Gets sick WAAY too easily

He can not have any other liquid other than water in his tender(?), rainwater? Nope, worst option, he's instantly sick for a week. Seawater? Nope, instantly sick. Just put the normal water in his tender please

History nerd

Did I say he gets sick easily?

He's sick almost 7 days a week or less

He's always sick, but always tries to hide it cause he thinks it's annoying that he gets sick easily

I mean like, not in a 'im so annoying bc I get sick easily' I mean 'GETTING SICK EASILY IS THE MOST ANNOYING ASS THING THIS UNIVERSE HAD GIVEN ME AS A QUIRK JUST GIVE ME A NORMAL IMMUNE SYSTEM PLEASE'

Forgets to take care of himself (ex. Forgetting to take his medicine or forgetting to eat), which is probably why

His quirk of being easily sick is based off of a NWR series and one of the episodes, aka Auld Faker on YouTube.

His weakness to illnesses is so bad that he has his own watertank to refill his tender on

Needs to wear glasses

Douglass 'Duggy' McIntosh

Younger twin but acts more mature.

190cm (maybe)

Same age as Donald,, obviously

Rarely gets sick (bro stood in the cold for around 6 hours in my au and all he got was a very light cold)

He used to be very arrogant in his teen years

Maths nerd

He probably loves snow

He likes eating snow

He takes care of his physical health a lot, which is how he recovers from sicknesses very easily

Uses a lot of home remedies which actually work for sicknesses

He force-feeds Donald into eating cause blud keeps forgetting

Probably listens to Mitski,,,

Kinda does not hang out in the cold now cause he values his life very much

Maths.

He tackles people down out of affection along with Donald

'Gentle twin' no he's the twin that'll smack you down with a slipper

Dyslexic

↑ he spells his name as 'Douglas' instead of 'Douglass' which is what his actual name is, that's why his nameplate is 'Douglas'

has pica syndrome (most engines have this in my au but not all)

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maxlarens · 3 months ago

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everyone go read this RIGHT NOW im not kidding!

It's one of the men, peering at necklaces. You steal a glance at him – handsome, well dressed, a head of dark curls – and look back at the rings when he turns his head, embarrassed to be caught looking.

NOSY ASS LANDO😤 i do love him for helping though. what a sweetie!! goddd i love it. like just to draw someone’s lando’s especially attention after being stuck in the crappiest relationship for so long🥺 happy for her and shes not even real🙂‍↕️

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

REAL AND HE WOULD SMELL GOOD!

He gives you a look as the clerk returns, and before you can reach for your wallet he's already handing over his card. You open your mouth to protest but he tips his head. "A congratulations gift," he insists.

shut the fuck up. SHUT UP. i would die.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in. Expensive cologne. Salt air. "I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

oh this made my head spin. auaghaha it’s soo vivid and sooo good. your writing is fantastic as usual!!!!!!!!!

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

unwell. he’d even get the audiobook and listen to the whole thing just for you😭 also “I believe in supporting the arts” LANDO STAND UP AND JUST SAY U WANT HER.

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

SICK! THIS IS SICK!

You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

🥺AND HE STAYS LONGER FOR YOU!!!!!!

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

omg…….OMG ��. and hes fucking WEARING IT. viv u are DIABOLICAL.

WAS IT SPECIAL! WAS IT SPECIAL. ur kidding. god. i cant with this. this is so perfect......... i told myself i wasnt going to write such a long reblog but i just had to. it made me ACHE! ugh.

also viv i hope u know that when im screaming that something's making me feel sick that im literally blushing and giggling and kicking my feet because i love it so much

Hazy Days - LN

summary: summer fling, don't mean a thing pairing: lando norris x divorced!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: non-explicit smut (mdni), older woman a.n.: fuck quadrant's summer scope vids song: summer nights from Grease

You're doing it again. It's been over a year now and you're still rubbing your ring finger with your thumb. You're not as quite as surprised when you don't feel the rings, and when you look down you're relieved to see that the pale patch of skin has disappeared. I've got to buy a ring, you think. Because, despite everything, you still feel weird without a ring on that finger.

You give your head a shake. The marriage is over. It was over before it officially began, but the divorce has been finalized for almost a month. The settlement is in your account – it's how you're paying for this spontaneous trip.

You're no longer a married woman. A terrifying thought, even now, when your entire identity for nearly 10 years was wife. And now…

Now you don't know what you are.

So you packed a bag, bought a plane ticket on a whim, and now you're at some seaside hotel in the south of France. You're looking out at the people on the beach, and further out at the yachts dotting the Mediterranean.

A place you've always wanted to visit and now you're frozen in the hotel room, scared to death that you won't enjoy it. Like a decadent dessert you've thought about all day that tastes like an old candy bar when you finally get a bite. Like the new Louboutin pumps you'd wanted for your birthday two years ago that had pinched your toes and you haven't worn since.

You've built this up in your head and now you're afraid it won't live up to your expectations.

Babes, enjoy it. This is gonna be so healing for you.

Your best friend's words ring in your mind and you reach for the phone to call her for more reassurance, then remember the time difference. She loves you, but she won't appreciate a phone call this early unless it's an emergency.

"God, get over it. You're not the only newly divorced woman in the world," you mutter to yourself, turning away from the window to finish dressing. You want to do some exploring, get plenty of photos to share, maybe find a few souvenirs.

Your thumb slides over your ring finger as you exit the hotel a little while later and you sigh, turning back to ask the concierge of a nice jewelry store. When you tell him you're interested in purchasing a ring, he knows the perfect place and soon you're on your way, strolling along the winding streets.

The afternoon sun is hot and you breathe a sigh of relief once you step into the shop. The interior or hushed and you're aware of the clerks' eyes all moving to you. A couple young men at the counter are chatting and laughing, not paying attention to you at all, and you venture further into the shop.

The men are looking at bracelets, and a smartly dressed clerk is more than happy to show you the rings, leading you to a low counter and inviting you to sit in the cushioned chair.

"Oh�� No, not anything like a wedding or engagement ring," you say as a tray of sparkling diamond rings is brought out. "I… I recently got divorced and I need something to replace my rings. Something that looks nothing like a wedding ring?"

From behind you, you can hear the two men murmuring, their English accents oddly comforting after three days of hearing only French voices. You finally narrow the selection down to two and are trying to decide when movement out the corner of your eye snags your attention.

You're focusing on the rings, trying them on and testing out how they feel against your thumb, when he speaks.

"I think the other one looks better."

Jerking your head up, you find yourself looking into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

"Do you?" you ask, looking back at the rings.

"Yeah – unless you want something flashy?"

He's moved close enough you can smell his cologne.

He even smells divine. So fucking unfair.

You switched rings and nodded. "Flashy isn't really me… I'll take this one," you tell the clerk.

The man smiles. "Getting used to a ring?"

"Ah… No," you chuckle. "Can't get used to not having one."

His smile dies and a look of panic flashes over his face. "Um… Sorry?"

You almost laugh. Giving your head a shake, you watch the clerk wrap the ring and wait for her to return. "Don't be."

"Oh," he murmured, smile returning and sliding into a grin. "Congratulations, then."

This time you do laugh. "Thanks."

His friend approaches, giving you a friendly nod. "What are we congratulating?"

You smile weakly. "The end of my marriage."

"Divorce?" he asks. When you nod, he smirks. "The best thing about marriage, honestly."

"Max."

"What am I supposed to say?" Max protests, holding up his hands.

The first man groans. "You're such a – cheers," he says when the clerk brings his card back. "Let's go before you embarrass me even more."

You're smiling at their banter as you thank the clerk for her assistance. When you stand to make your way out, he's waiting near the door.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

His name is Lando. Max – pain in my ass – is obviously his best friend and doesn't join you for drinks as he's got to get packed up to leave. When you suggested Lando spend time with him before he goes home, Lando waved it off.

"He lives in England but I see him all the time."

Lando, it turns out, does not live in England. He looks almost embarrassed when you ask where he lives, and when he finally mutters that he lives in Monaco your eyes widen. Surely he's too young to be that well off?

Trust fund, probably. Now you don't feel so bad for his paying for the ring.

"That must be… Interesting," you say, taking a sip of your drink. He's brought you to a chic bar at the beach, and you're sitting on the upper terrace, the slowly sinking sun casting a golden glow over the water.

"I don't really get much time there." He fiddles with the stirrer in his drink. "I'm gone a lot."

Interest piqued, you set your glass down. "Oh?" Maybe he's a model, even if he is a little on the short side. Not that he's that short – he's definitely taller than you. "What do you do?"

"I drive cars." He ducks his head briefly. "Racecars."

"Really? I'm not… I'm a dumb American, the only racing I really know is the Indy 500?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's IndyCar."

You listen, fascinated, as he tells you about formula one, which you have heard about but it's not in your orbit. He seems both relieved and amused at the fact you're not into sports, and you can feel him relax as he laughs when you tell him you only watch the Super Bowl every year so you can eat a ton of junk food.

A drink turns into a few, and he's so nice to listen to, so easy to talk to. When he suggests dinner, you hesitate. You don't want to be that woman, newly divorced and falling into bed with the first man that looks at you. Especially one so young—

"How old are you?" you blurt.

It obviously surprises him and, though he was halfway out of his seat he sank back down. "How old are you?"

You refuse to play coy, to fish for compliments like you're desperate. "I'm thirty."

His eyebrows lift. "Twenty-four."

So not that young. More like… younger.

Lando gives you a smile. "Does that cancel dinner?"

You look into his eyes for a long moment then glance out at the view. There's an obvious fork in the road in front of you. One leads to something with this handsome racecar driver, and you have a feeling it's going to be more than dinner. The other leads to the rest of your solo vacation, with the cloud of what could be lingering. Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in.

Expensive cologne. Salt air.

"I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

You'll never be able to describe the meal you ate. Lando makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. Not in a demanding way. He's just… Magnetic. He tells you stories about his career, about embarrassing moments and highs and lows and talks about his other ventures. How does he have time to sleep? He talks glowingly about Max and has you giggling into your wine over a story of the two of them getting into trouble that left Lando locked out of his parents' home. When he apologizes for talking so much you almost beg him to not stop. But he asks about you, and you can't help thinking he seems genuinely interested.

"My life isn't half as interesting as yours," you say with a shake of your head.

"I don't know… You're divorced, halfway around the world, having dinner with a strange guy. Seems interesting to me," he murmurs.

"Oh, it's a tale as old as time. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love and gives up everything… Girl becomes a woman, boy becomes a toad."

Lando winced. "No kissing to turn him into a prince?"

"He'd have to want the kiss for that to happen."

"What a fucking idiot," Lando says.

You tilt your head to the side. "For being a toad?"

"For not wanting your kiss."

You set your glass down with a surprised gulp. About to call him out for feeding you a line, you pause, seeing the glimmer in his eyes. Without thinking you lick your lips and see his gaze dip down briefly. You don't know what to say or how to react so you sit there, unable to refrain from thinking about how a kiss from Lando would feel.

"His loss." Lando's voice was barely above a murmur. Then, shockingly, his cheeks darken and his tongue darts over his lips. He looks down at his plate and you can hear his sigh before he looks up, his expression serious. "You gave up everything?"

"A slight exaggeration, really." You shrug, picking at your food. "I had dreams that I put on hold to help him achieve his."

"I've never been married. But, like…" He sighs, setting his fork down. "That doesn't seem fair?"

"Life isn't—"

"I know, but marriage isn't life is it?" His face screws up at that but he forges ahead. "Isn't the whole point of it to support and help each other achieve their dreams?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "I thought it was. He thought different."

"What dreams did you put on hold?" he asks after a moment.

"I wanted to get published." You look down at your half-eaten food. "When I was a kid, I loved reading and making up stories… I was studying for my degree in English – I planned to teach writing while working on my novels, because it's hard to make money doing it at first, and… Now it's too late."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have to go back to school and—"

"Yeah? Would you have to start over completely?"

"No." You can't remember how many credit hours you have left, but it would only take a phone call or an email to find out. "I wasn't too far from my degree."

"Then what's stopping you?" he challenged softly.

You don't have an answer. Nothing but the fear of failing, and you don't know him well enough to admit that.

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

A smile pulls at your lips. "You'd do that for me? Someone you don't even know?"

"Of course." He grins. "I believe in supporting the arts."

He drives you back to the hotel in his sleek sportscar and for once you understand the allure of a purring engine and soft leather seats. There's no impending pressure when he offers to see you to your room, only the heat of his hand at the small of your back and the enticing scent of his cologne.

At your door, he hesitates. "Can I kiss you?"

Has anyone ever asked your consent for a kiss? You don't think so and the realization makes you sad, but you push that away because you've wanted him to kiss you since halfway through dinner.

His lips are a lighted match to kindling. The heat and desire are immediate and you're leaning into him, frightened by the strength of your want but craving more. It's been an embarrassingly long time since you've felt this way and you're aware that it may be even longer before you feel it again. So when the door finally clicks open you don't hesitate to step inside, pausing and reluctantly breaking the kiss to look up at him.

And wish you'd googled how to invite a man into your hotel room without sounding desperate.

But you don't have to ask.

"Okay to come in?" he whispers.

"God yes," you gasp.

His lips are on yours before the door closes behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you sink into the kiss, snatching in breaths as his hands cradle your head. A soft whine is muffled against his tongue as you grip the front of his shirt, knees nearly forgotten as the tenderness of his touch wars the ferocity of his kiss.

"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips, his hands beginning to wander, molding you closer against him, his breath hitching as he clutches your hips. He pulls his head back slightly and you can feel his harsh breathing as he stares at you before crashing his lips to yours again.

The need grew stronger, almost primal, and you're backing towards the bed, gasping as his hands pull at your dress, nearly ripping it. Craving the feel of his skin, you do the same to his shirt, barely noticing the trail of clothing on the floor, too focused on his touch and his smell and the decadence of his of his kiss. He guides you down, swallowing your gasp as your bare skin touches the cool sheets.

Breaking the kiss with a harsh moan, he braces his hands on either side of you and lifts up slightly. He's panting, lips parted, and he gives a soft chuckle of surprise. "I didn't plan on this."

You lick your lips, still tasting him. And only craving more. "Neither did I."

He blinks, eyes almost wild as they dart from yours to your lips and back again. And all you can think—

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

He leans down, and his kiss sends every coherent thought away. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, his hair softer than you thought it would be. His hands are rough but gentle at the same time, in your hair and trailing down your sides. Your name is a longing moan vibrating against your throat as you trace the muscles of his back.

"Lando," you gasp, arching beneath him.

"I know… I know." Hot breath at your ear, fingers digging into your thigh. Guiding your leg over his hip.

"Please." It's a soft moan.

"Fuck." His lips move to yours, his gasping whimper muffled.

The frantic need is still there but he's unhurried, as though he's trying to memorize every breath, every touch. When your hand flies out to grasp the sheet his hand follows, fingers threading between yours and gripping tightly. You're lost in the haze, sweat forming between you, sheets twisting. Ecstasy rises, peaks, and it's so sudden and delicious your cries ring out.

"Y/n." A desperate whine that only increases the bliss.

Rolling, twisting, arching. It's feverish and needy and so good so so good.

You both collapse, your hands in his sweat-damp hair. Panting, tingling, you wait for the awkwardness that never comes. His touch is tender, his lips gentle on yours before he's pulling away, murmuring that he'll get a towel. He's back before you can catch your breath, and by the time you can breathe he's kissing you again.

The sky outside is turning gray when you both breathlessly agree to get some sleep. You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

And though you distinctly remember him saying he was going back to Monaco that day, he sticks around. Blushes and shrugs when you ask him about it over lunch, then suggests borrowing a friend's yacht for the night. The days bleed into the nights, a blurred span of time of sightseeing, swimming, and Lando.

When it's time for you to pack up to go home you feel a little bereft. But the vacation can't last forever. You've got to go back to real life, figure out how you'll live as a completely free woman. And he's got to get back to his life, jetting around the world and undoubtedly breaking hearts.

You exchange numbers and he promises to keep in touch, but you know you'll be forgotten before your plane takes off. You've been a pleasant distraction for his summer break, nothing more.

You're about to board when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. From Lando.

- You dropped your ring in my car.

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

- Hold onto it for me?

He won't. He'll give it away or sell it or take it back to the shop.

But, when you're back home and have exchanged texts with him and even a couple phone calls – yes I promise I contacted an advisor, I'm signing up for classes – and he lets you know his break is over and he's getting back to work, you cave and pull up footage of him in an interview.

He looks different on the screen of your laptop. Good, but different. And you can only focus on the necklace that's just visible under his (hideous really) orange shirt. When he leans, it shifts, and you see it.

Your ring.

"Are you still hung up on her?"

Lando's head snaps up at Max's question. "What?"

His friend gestures to the phone in Lando's hand. "That American?"

He feels his cheeks heat and realizes Max knows he's looking at your Instagram. "I'm not hung up."

Max just looks at him.

"I'm just checking on her," he mutters.

With a sigh, Max softens and sits next to him. "It's okay to like her, you know."

He huffs, his hand reaching to fiddle with the ring on his necklace. "She was just supposed to be a fling."

"But she wasn't," Max says after a moment.

Lando shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

Silence lingers, stretches as his thumb hovers over your most recent post.

Then, softly. "Am I stupid?"

Max shoots him a look.

"For thinking it was special," he adds before his friend can insult him. "For thinking she thinks it was special."

"Was it special?"

He swallows hard, rolling the ring between his fingers as he looks at the post, a photo of a cup of coffee next to a laptop. Up past my bedtime parsing Austen. Liking it, he closes the app and locks his phone.

Was it special? Or was it just the great sex and no strings that had him thinking it was? At first, in those days immediately after you'd left, he'd only thought about the sex. How freeing it had been, knowing he wouldn't see you again and could let inhibitions go. But with each week that passed the sex wasn't the only thing he thought about.

Laughter and sunshine. Salty air and sweet conversation. Honeyed voice and understanding eyes.

He lifts his head, meeting Max's eyes. He doesn't have to say it. Max has known him for more than half his life. But he answers.

"Yes."

Taglist:

#never getting over this i fear #📝ficrecs #🫂viv

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papaya-twinks · 9 months ago

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im famous in inappropriate ways - l.n

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condom 🫣, foreplay, teasing, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink (this is the kinkiest shit ever.)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N read a…Lando x Y/N fic.

A/N - There’s just something so adorable about ADHD and dyslexia

“Wait, what does Y/N mean?” Lando said quietly in your ear. You were both lying flat on your stomachs, on your bed, your laptop propped up in front of you as you frowned slightly at the screen. “Why are you whispering?” you whispered, “and I think it means yes or no,”.

He cocked his head to the side, evidently confused. “‘Yes or No looked into Lando’s green eyes…” he trailed off, absolutely no idea how that made sense. “Search it,” you nudged him as he pulled your laptop closer. “What if it’s bad?” he said, not clicking ‘enter’.

“Lando, please, you’ve searched for guns on my laptop because you gave up spelling ‘papaya’…” you shook your head. “Hey. This is English, nothing is spelt the way it sounds,” he hissed as you rolled your eyes. “Your name,” he read of the screen.

“What?” Lando scrunched his nose, his thick arm round your waist as you turned to him, it wasn’t a difficult concept. “Lando looked into Lando’s green eyes,” he blinked. “No, Lan,” you burst into laughter, “I think it’s supposed to be MY name!” you giggled. He gasped, turning back to the fan fiction. “Did you write this?” Lando said, peering at the warning section.

“What? No,” you said incredulously. “How do they know my kinks?” he whispered, as if someone could be listening. You burst into a fit of laughter as he rolled his eyes, punching you gently. “Read with me,” he said, pulling on your arm. Your eyes scanned the text slowly, making sure not to race ahead, knowing your boyfriend was dyslexic. His eyes seemed to widen at every word, before his eyes clouded. “Do you want me to read it, baby?” you cooed, as he nodded.

Lando’s eyes travelled down Y/N body, his hand on her waist as he took in every detail of her - from her gorgeous bright eyes, to her long flowing hair. His hand slowly met with her chin as he pulled her into a gentle kiss, his lips moving ever so softly against hers. Slowly, he lifted her skirt up, not showing anything. Just enough for him to slip his fingers underneath. Her eyes closed firmly as she felt the pad of his finger, gentle at first, before picking up speed and roughness as he toyed with her clit.

His lips hooked onto her neck, sucking softly as he left a mark, his large hand travelling through her hair before he pulled back, slipping his wet fingers inside her mouth. Her eyes rolled back slightly as he pushed to the back of her throat, a gagging sound muffled against the bottom of his fingers. “Good girl,” he whispered, letting her suck before he pulled out.

You couldn’t help but feel how hot and red your cheeks became as you read, Lando’s eyes trained firmly on you. You were about to carry on reading, when you felt something. You were pulled away from the screen as Lando’s lipped muffled against yours, a soft squeak escaping your lips. It didn’t take long for you to realise - he was doing exactly what was said in the fanfic.

“Read,” he said, roughly tilting your head as his voice dropped an octave, forcing you to look at the screen as he unbuckled his belt. “Lando…” you said, but you silenced by his hand on your throat, a gasping sound escaping your mouth. “Shhhh, sweetie,” he mumbled as he pushed in, a squeal of shock escaping you. It was probably the hundredth time, but the size of his cock never failed to surprise you. “Gonna take all of me huh?” he groaned in your ear as you tightened around him. Your lips parted gently as he brushed your hair back before wrapping it round his hand, using it as leverage to lift your head back. “Read. It,” he accentuated every syllable. You managed to find where you had left off, reading it.

He gave her time to adjust, a few seconds, just so she could feel him and how deep he was inside her. Her stomach bulged ever so softly as he shuffled, causing her to whimper.

Lando’s hand reached to your bare stomach, running his finger over the bump where his cock was, a smirk on his face. “That small, huh?” he asked. You whined as he lifted you up roughly, gesturing for you to carry on reading. His rings were cold against your bare skin, somehow adding pleasure to the simple touch.

When he was sure she was ready, he gently rocked his hips against hers, sliding the base of his dick in and out of her, her soft moans muffled against the pillow. “It’s so big, Lan,” she said quietly, but he didn’t miss it. He started picking up pace, going from rocking to pounding as she cried out, her eyes rolling back softly.

At this rate, he was going to leave a mark. Maybe more than that - there was nothing heard in the room except your moans and whimpers, his groans and the sound of his hips hitting your back. Still, you had to read.

“Come on sweetie,” he groaned in her ear, her hair around his hand. His thrusts were relentless, a thin layer of sweat coating his bare chest. “You gonna listen to daddy?” he growled. “Yeah,” she said, somewhat incoherently, making him tighten his grip on her hair. “Yes what?” he snapped.

“Yes daddy,” you panted, eyes still trained on the screen as you struggled to keep them open. Lando’s thrusts were becoming sloppier and slipper, as both of you felt your highs overtaking you. Your thighs shook softly as you whimpered, your cum dripping onto the bedsheets.

Soon after, Lando followed, his arms shaking on either side of your waist as you felt the hot liquid pour into you. He pulled out slowly, loosening his grip on your hair and turning you over. “The fic says after care,” you mumbled, nose in the crook of his neck. He laughed softly, lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. “Guess I’m famous in some…inappropriate ways…” Lando laughed quietly, but you see already asleep.

message @molten-m122-chat

#lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #smut

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smoosnoom · 2 years ago

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daily compliment time!

im lucky that i live at the final stop bc i would’ve definitely missed it while reading your work

i am Not genius. i'll never be able to learn an alphabet that isn't cyrillic or latin (spelling is not fun miss swift. im dyslexic. spelling is not fucking fun). so it's so cool that you can do it!!

i know english obviously, i know italian good enough to understand what people say and write but im really bad at speaking. i speak belarusian and... duh. i speak russian (i really wish i didn't). i learned a couple of phrases in spanish for my mini european trip. i can understand and i can read in ukrainian but i cannot speak. and i know i bit of polish bc its quite similar to belarusian. and I'm pretty bad at all of them :)

ALSO u r like 4 on intimidating scale bc ur extremely talented and im naturally anxious and shy (i literally send you compliments anonymously lol) but u seem gentle and warm ♥️

the fact u can read two different lexicons is so impressive, and spelling is like . the one thing im good at LOL (also guilty pleasure i kind of love me!) so i deem u einstein !!!!!

"(i really wish i didn't)" 😭 HELEP omg why not !!! it sounds rly nice to me, altho i definitely can't understand any of it :L also ?? u can fully understand like 6 languages ??? that is CRAZYY how dare u try to undersell urself omg

iam happy im on the lower side of the intimidation scale 🫡 i try my Best to be friendly to everyone ever even tho i Suck at replying to people . But We Don't Talk About That .

ur a solid one in my humble opinion, and i love talking to u, anonymous or not :D

#sorry for the sosoooo late response omg #i promisei have been reading them ive just been Not Good #but i am here now ready to fumble and embarrass myself via replies once again !#/ask #daily alya

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sun4ki · 4 months ago

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Do Tfem Robin Hcs rn and you’ll be getting it tonight

YES MY WIFE 🫡 ANY THING FOR YOU

HSJSHSKSBRJS THINKING ABOUT THIS MAKES ME WANNA GO BOOM HEHEJENSKNENEHE COUGH COUGH ANYWAYS

WARNINGS: NSFW , minors read at your own risk , MEN AND HOMOPHOBES STRICTLY DNI

A/n: my mouth is frothing just thinking about this…. This is short because i wanna gate keep my other thoughts….

Please im dyslexic and having a shitty day rn sorry if its bad :(

Taglist: @robilover @skinblanket pspsps

TFem!Robin would be the kind of girl who would go easy on you, patient, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Her length would just be average size but hehe i have a very creative mind so go wild

Robin wouldn’t be the type to moan; rather a type to grunt and mewl as she praises you on how well you’re taking her

Bonus if reader’s a virgin, she would be so gentle and cautious about her pace, making sure you would be satisfied

“Is this okay for you darling?” Robin muttered , her hips grinding against you as soft grunts escaped her lips .

It felt overwhelming but in a good way, the feeling of her shaft deep in you , pressing continuously against that spongey part of your insides

And dont get me started on the after care JESUS CHRISTTIWGWJEB. She would have the BEST after care i just know it.

Imagine her pressing gentle apologetic kisses on your temple when she realised she went too rough or fast with you.

She would hold you close, hearing your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as you relaxed from that heated moment with her.

She could totally break you if you wanted her to, not like i would say no to her absolutely dominating me-

#༻𓊈𒆜~SunAki answers~𒆜𓊉༺#༻𓊈𒆜~sunaki’s work~𒆜𓊉༺#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail robin x reader #honkai star rail robin x you #hsr robin #hsr robin x reader #hsr robin x y/n #robin smut #hsr robin smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut

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icarusredwings · 2 months ago

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REVIEW TIME!!

with commentary! By me!

Yaaayy ngl ive told like 3 of my friends how excited I am for this so firstly I would like to heavily thank you and secondly please give a hand to our writer!

They are amazing.

Firstly, it's 5k words.

Wowza. Big boy. (That's what she said)

"Puppy kink if you squint" Ill be the judge of that thank you very much.

Ah yes the fire jealousy bugs. Very common for 40 year olds with cancer nowadays.

OH NO- The B-word!!.... Bronchitis. Probably.

Bro were less then 100 words in and already he's been slapped with the daddy title.

Wade snapping from "im so cute and flirty and a tease" to "im Dyslexic" in a serious deadpan is so funny.

I know wades eyes are brown but I kinda liked the idea of them being glowy and yellow. Utterly just looking terrifying and Logan glancing at him like "yeh thats my little goblin. His skin falls off sometimes, hes bassically fucking radioactive from all the failed chemo and radiology treatments, Oh and btw you can cut off his head and somehow see and talk still. Its creepy."

Ah yes. Bribe this man to read. And teach him while you're at it because his parents sure did a shit job at it.

Logan sweetie, it's in your genes to be a teacher. Of course, he's confident.

I love how nervous they both are. Truely its ussually only one of them but its nice that both are shitting bricks right now, Logan because its his letter and wade because hes scared that he wont be able to do it and logan will leave him for it or something drimatic like that.

The encouragement is killing me. Its so soft.

Man theyre so gentle. Wade is going to cry soon I just know it. These are too nice of things to be said in such a serious way. The encouraging kisses and rubs are so nice too.

Man they're so gonna roleplay a teacher student thing eventually and Logans going to have such mixed feelings about it because Wade can make anything look and sound sexy but at the end of the day, the moral code of a teacher is to protect their students- Not fuck them.

Oh im starting to see the puppyness but just a itty bitty bit. This is called positive reinforcement Wade. Get used to it. It means when youre good you get special attention.

God the praise. The "good job bub" the "sound it out." It's all gorgeous.

The idea of him being so supportive when Wade has lightbulb moments. Calling his eyes prettg, his skin heavenly, all while Logans down there being a tease? Holding his hair in a grip and borderline in tears at how sexually frustrated he's getting.

Perfect.

We already know they both have praise kinks but wades the type you could tell him to speak in public and he'd start barking and whining.

He's so patiant and gentle.

Scratch that. He got too impatiant and decided "fuck it youre taking too long ill read the damn thing"

Struggling a bit to understand what position theyre in most times.

OoohhHoho boy. "Its what you deserve" NOW were talking.

Yay! Body praise! Body worship! Thats the shit.

"So loved that its making him feel nauseous" been there. Felt that. Best choice of my life <3 Did I mention I love my wife?

Oh there we go. Wades getting teary. Called it.

Yo Logan is so emotional that it seems like HES the one about to throw up at how lovey dovey himself is being.

Also Logan writing out that Wade is not one of his problems and that he's too scared to ask wade to stay? Fucking screaming.

Ooohh baby no. Wade honey I know you cant stand this type of intimacy because it was never taught to you but you don't need to joke about this baby hes serious. You have this man in your bed reading a drunk confession letter out loud to you after he just sucked your dick. How much more serious can he be?

Wade dreamily and patiantly waiting for Logan to get ready because hes so nervous that hes shaking is such a bare minimum thing but its beautiful.

A lot of "marred" in this fic.

Logan "Stop drinking jack you have gay thoughts" Howlett, the poet who didn't even know it.

"When was the last time I made love to someone? God made love? What am I? A virgin?" Brother please we do not have time for this macho man stuff everyone knows you got a lot of bitches, you are so not a virgin. You're so much not a virgin that you probably need to be baptized 70 times before all of your fuckery before marriage sins go away.

I wanna kink shame wade so badly like my guy you couldn't have waited 10 more minutes to let him streach ya you're just gonna raw dog it (pun not intended) and whine when that shit hurts? But like.. in a weirdo kind of way? Valid. Its the wolverine. Enough said.

Dipped down is also a very frequent and perhaps slightly overused term. As well as 'lips lock'

Still have no clue what position this is LOL

Wow so mean. Who knew the Wolverine was into orgasam denial. I sure didn't.

Wade is definitely a cryer during sex I dont care what you all say my boy is way too overstimulated for this nonsense and for logan to be "pounding him like he owes him money" is definitely tears worthy.

I do see the puppy kink aspect. I raise you- literal tricks. Telling him to roll over, patting his thigh to come here, the whimpers.

Also I was fully expecting this to be like a 1 thrust per word until theres no more words kind of thing.

No after cuddles? Rude. For shame.

Undoubtedly though they both are very much asleep now for sure.

Domesticated Wolverine

@icarusredwings

“I s– secretly love it that you talk so much, I think you’re… funny and your laugh is sexy.” Wade glances over his shoulder. “Did I read that right?” He asks, starting to flush pink.

“Yes,” Logan purrs, tracking kisses down the side of his neck.

Wade’s heart starts to pound out of his fucking chest.

“And you look hot in your… Hello Kitty… pajamas.” Wade turns to show his grin. “Really?”

Logan huffs a soft laugh back. “You look hot in everything. And nothing.”

Wade flushes a little pinker. “Are you drunk right now?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Nope, you just broke me down, as you are so very good at.”

Through pursed lips, Wade mumbles, “I am pretty good at that, actually.”

Logan hums back a little mhm, and Wade can feel his fingers skirting over the mottled skin of his chest and stomach, like he’s admiring it. Butterflies gather behind his ribs and underneath Logan’s strong and capable hands. “Keep reading,” gets whispered into Wade’s ear.

Shivering, he obliges. “Your thighs look so good in the Deadpool suit, swear– swear to God I can– Logan, my gosh. Take a girl to dinner.”

#poolverine #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #worst wolverine #wade wilson’s dyslexia #poolverine smut #wade wilson #logan howlett #deadclaws #deadpool x wolverine #fic review #fic rec #fic gift #deadpool and wolverine

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honey-lemon-goose · 2 years ago

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Awnskmsskmsksms AN INTERPRETER!!??😱 like listen. . . hear me out!!! This is so possible!! An idol with their interpreter!!? SO POSSIBLE!! Especially if they have their own for their group!! 'You reminded him of a river. Gentle in your appearance and demeanour. At the same time, you possessed a unique turbulence' HEHEHEHEHE A MOUNTAIN WITH A RIVER!!!👀🙌 I SEE I SEE!!!! THATS GOOOOD!!🤣💛 'demonic green owl on his phone.' That demonic green owl really do be coming after me personally😭 that owl is a bully I swear🤧 'You thanked the sound engineers, the technical staff, the security... anyone who you had the chance to thank, you did.' AHHH I LOVE HER AND HER BIG ASS HEART🥹💛 "San was ready to risk it all, became the president of your growing fan club' Man that is so understandable🤭💛 'you were offered to join the group in the US as well. ' Quite possibly San pulling some strings doing too👀👀👏 maybe even cutting some too👀🤭 MISS WORLDWIDE😭💀 I love that y/n has her own fan club that's so adorable🥰 'small plushie, a big-eyed, adorable kitten that an ATINY in the US had given to you, a permanent travel companion.' Listen if I was y/n I would have died on the spot, turned into a puddle of my own tears🥹💛 I too would be scared of messing up! I mean I only k ow one language and I already struggle with that one! Plus I'm dyslexic!! So I struggle even more!!🤣💀 mad respect to y/n and anyone who know more than one language!! I find it insanely fascinating!💛 'comfort in one of the unlikeliest people. And really, it had been him who had ended up making a lot of things in your life just fall into place.' Alsmskwnw he is her rock🥺 cough cough he is her mountain!🥹💛 the mountain to her river!! 'the hashtag #thankyouYN had climbed up in trending on Twitter for a short while.' Awhhhh that for sure is unbelievably adorable😭💛 also the way San single handedly gave y/n the confidence boost she needed with that one shoutout🥹👏👏 and probably reignited her love for languages too!!🤧💛 "But KQ had settled for you. And you wanted to do your best to do everything in your power to make ATEEZ perfectly international.' Her heart is so big and so pure🥹💛 'It had been sent at an odd time of night, but who were you to judge - you had not even slept yet.' I myself am an avid night owl! And an insomniac! So im up all the time🥲🤣like for example its 4am right now🫡 'The writing felt familiar, friendly, open.' why would San not just ask her👀👀 is the mountain nervous to speak to his river🤭👀 'San yelled at the top of his voice, nearly approaching Wooyoung's witch laugh register.' Convinced nothing can reach Wooyoung's laugh pitch without damaging something🤣💀 'Everyone had taken it to be 'classic San being playful', but his intention was to just shamelessly flirt with you.' San is just purely a genius🧐👏 "Oh fuck off... but for real this is so cool. She is going to be doing what she loves, and doing it for me~" in a sing-song voice' Honestly that is star strucked romance🥹💛 wanting the person you like to do what they love for you!? Maybe that's just my hopeless romanticness completely siding with San! But frfr it is adorable🤧💛💛 Ateez are excellent wing men but Wooyoung and Yunho are top tier! Yeosang, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa coming in close second!!👏 "And that if he goes any harder on stage he'll turn into Magic Mike?" . . . Would that be so bad Kang to the Yeo to the Sang!?🤔🫠 would it be so bad🫣💛 "Careful, ATINY might ask for that." Oop🤣💀 Love how San fell hard, an adorable man when it comes to love🥹💛 THATS RIGHT WOOYOUNG JUST LIKE HAN JISUNG "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH FALLING IN LOVE!!!" Wise words🤭👏 'Except for you, without a clue, having brewed some tea, sat down like L from Death Note on your chair, and got to work.' But tell me why his way of sitting is oddly comfortable!?🤔🧐

Your fan, San (part 1)

(part 2 now available!)

💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 5.3k 💬 warnings/tags: language, simping, hopeless romantic, linguistics, interpreter/translator reader, duo bird terrors, ateez wingman alliance, concerts, public speaking, job stress, slow burn, falling in love hard and fast 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @senpai-of-doom, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea 💬 a/n: Hello there <3 we all know the standard languages, but how will Choi San, our next Fan in the series, go about learning the language of love? Let's find out! Thank you so much for your love and support, biggest hugs and stay tuned <3<3<3

ATINY were overwhelmingly supportive when San spoke a foreign language.

But he disliked it.

Because it meant that you had to stop.

And San loved nothing more than to see you gaze at him, fully focused, professional, and practically reading his mind as you translated his words at record speed.

Well you did that for every single member of ATEEZ, but that was besides the point. His focus was always on you.

You reminded him of a river. Gentle in your appearance and demeanour. At the same time, you possessed a unique turbulence, you could stand strong and proud, a fire in your eyes - the embodiment of passion as you spoke.

But exclusively if you felt the moment called for it. You were always transforming. Fluid. You were an ever-changing season. An unstoppable current. San wholly believed you had the power to see right through people because of how well you captured their sentiment.

San had always valued communication, and wanted to be on the same page as anyone he talked to. But unfortunately, that meant spending long hours hunched over books and staring at a demonic green owl on his phone.

In the early days of his career, that had been enough, but as the fanbase grew larger and more international, the pressure he had begun to feel when it came to simply talking and delivering a message was unprecedented.

He was not able to joke around, not able to say exactly what he wanted, and more often than not gave up and said something easier. But the passion was still there. Very much alive. So, San kept at it. Trying not to make Duo sad.

Of course, he was well aware that no matter how hard he tried, he and the rest of the members would not be able to become perfectly fluent by the next promotions and world tour, so having an interpreter on board was a must. This was so that they could focus on connecting with the audience on a much deeper level, so they would not be hindered either by vocabulary or by worry (even if they could explain themselves well).

Hence why it had not come as a surprise that the selection process for an interpreter, according to some staff San was friendly with, had been immensely difficult. So much so that apparently, a high percentage had quit before even making it close to the final rounds, and then those in the last selection stage had to risk facing humiliation, the test being interpreting at a live, high stress event.

And then, with only a few days before ATEEZ were meant to depart to Japan, they had received the news that an interpreter had been picked out. Prior to the concerts, you had barely interacted - only a couple of waves here and there. San noticed that you were on the quieter side, an avid reader, and had a habit of making notes on your phone.

He had initially assumed you were always texting someone, but after curiosity got the better of him and he had decided to at least become acquaintances, he was shown the insanity that was literary Japanese, reviews of honorifics and formal speech, colloquial phrases and translation of slang. You had even gone so far as to create your own guide for finding local analogies to different mythological or popular media references.

That was strike one.

Every single concert you were adaptive, and attentive to ATEEZ. You had even begun to check in on them prior to know what emotional landscape they wanted to deliver. You knew the setlist off by heart, had memorised the pauses between songs and when the members were to have live interactions with the audience that would require your participation.

When in your role, your demeanour changed entirely. Your voice was level, pronunciation like that of a native, and well measured out. San swore even he had begun learning Japanese passively simply because it was so easy to understand you.

Then, after the concerts were done, you did not take any compliments, merely smiling them off, instead being proud of everyone around you. You thanked the sound engineers, the technical staff, the security... anyone who you had the chance to thank, you did. It was a given that you congratulated ATEEZ after their performances, commending them for their hard work. When San had attempted to return the praises, he was met with that same bashful grin, and you explaining that you were merely extending their hearts out to the audience.

That was strike two.

And finally, there was the last concert. Sold out, with tens of thousands of ATINY, there to spend this amazing time together with the idols. And then, to deliver a surprise gift in the form of an animated video created by a group of dedicated fans who had painstakingly adapted submissions into the style of an animated film. It was a story of how important ATEEZ were to the fans, how they were heroes, how they deserved infinite amounts of love.

Each of the nation's prefectures had been represented, and at the end there was a 'handover' to the rest of the world, sending appreciation to other ATINY who will be meeting ATEEZ next. The majority of the group was tearing up, and while delivering their speeches, struggled to control their emotions. Each phrase was a cry from the soul, and San was not sure how it was possible to translate something like this.

And yet, you did. In that mellifluous voice, now holding a tinge of melancholy, you patiently collaborated with each member, listening to them pour themselves out, and pouring yourself out eightfold. Those who were able to understand Korean had already been misty-eyed, but as you included the others, the atmosphere changed completely.

It was a total unity. That complete understanding. The communication that San was always seeking. It did not matter how many people there were in a given place. What mattered, was that you were the key to reaching them all. So, on a whim, instead of letting Hongjoong do the honours like he normally would, he overtook the leader in announcing you. In thanking you for your hard work and for being the link between them and ATINY. Please applaud L/N Y/N, master interpreter.

That was strike three.

San was ready to risk it all, became the president of your growing fan club, and hearing your voice stopped being a want. It became a need.

To this day you were confused as to how your life had unfolded. To an extent, it was like you were put on standby and then watched someone who looked just like you go and do cool things with your life.

You had joined KQ Entertainment on a contractual basis to support ATEEZ in the Japan leg of their tour, and technically, were supposed to part ways as soon as it was over. But as luck (or someone else's unfortunate series of events) would have it, due to the incredibly short time between schedules, unexpected illnesses and conflicts, you were offered to join the group in the US as well.

It was an easy decision for you.

Firstly, because you had gotten close enough with the members, since your job was to deliver not only the words, but also their emotional weight.

Secondly, bold of anyone to assume that you had other job offers lying around when most companies had hiring freezes and could not care less for your work experience and skills.

But no one needed to know about that second part.

Instead, you simply agreed, and as such, signed yourself up to way more than you had ever expected.

And what was that exactly? Your own strange version of fame in the form of ATINY calling you the ATEEZ Megaphone, the Voice of Reason, 8 Makes 1 Voice, Miss Worldwide (which officially imprinted the rapper Pitbull into your head), ATEEZmind... among many, many others.

You had become a kind of staple to ATEEZ performances abroad, with fans cheering when you made appearances for the interludes between songs. And the couple of times that you had been asked to be on standby for fan signs, there had been some ATINY who came up to you, as though you were the ninth member of ATEEZ, just to thank you for being there for the fans, for making the connection so much more special, and for working so hard to make ATEEZ global.

Did you cry a bit in your hotel room after that had happened? Yes - what could one say? You were very sentimental, and this kind of softness just did it for you. Also you had made a small plushie, a big-eyed, adorable kitten that an ATINY in the US had given to you, a permanent travel companion.

At the very start of your time at KQ, your insecurities had been running high, and you would spend sleepless nights reviewing just what you had translated, convincing yourself that you could have done a better job, writing ceaselessly on receipts, envelopes, in notebooks and in notes on your phone the myriad of alternatives your could conjure only after the event.

You had never thought that after completing your higher education in linguistics you would end up being a moderately high profile interpreter. At best, you had laid out a peaceful, uneventful life as a translator in some publishing house, spending your days in front of a computer and stacks of dictionaries. You imagined yourself to be a theorist, a silent practitioner of the craft rather than an attention-demanding performer.

That was how you had been throughout your early years. Reading. Writing. Speaking when necessary, afraid of saying the wrong thing. It was a vicious cycle. You dedicated yourself to classics, finding tranquility and reassurance in complexity and archaic passages (a stark contrast to the slang and inside jokes that you were now having to process at high speeds).

It was only in later years of university that you started breaking out of your shell, after you and a couple of your peers had been scouted to aid in an international conference. You had agreed since it would be a glorious add-on to your CV, but did not expect for it to take you as far as it had done.

If you had to use an analogy for how you felt, it would be like a surfer who just kept on living through fluke after fluke. The waves that you were being hit with were more and more menacing, approaching tsunami heights, but you were still standing, amazed that you had not been swept under.

Maybe no one was going to stop you, or talk to you on the street, ever, but the sheer thought was enough to throw you through a loop. You were not there to be a persona, nor a star. You were there because you loved languages, for goodness' sake, and had been selected to use that love in a way that helped those who actually wanted to be and were stars to connect with their fans.

Interestingly, from the beginning of your journey, you had found reassurance and comfort in one of the unlikeliest people. And really, it had been him who had ended up making a lot of things in your life just fall into place.

San.

Aside from Hongjoong, who, being the captain, was constantly interacting with all staff even outside of the immediate circle, San had been the first to take an interest in what you were doing, and why you were loitering around the corridors backstage, eyes glued to your phone.

You had at first assumed that he was going to scold you, having seen a couple of live shows where he was more than displeased about fellow members not paying their full attentions thanks (or no thanks) to the mobile phones in their hands.

But the look of genuine curiosity in his eyes quickly cleared up your concerns, and when he had begun to ask questions... you had gone on a roll. Conclusion: if someone were to ask you about linguistics, they better prepare themselves for a TEDx Talk because you were not going to serve them any less.

Although you had tried to convince yourself all throughout your higher education and work life that you did not need validation, the passionate encouragement that San had given you that day was a big driving force for you to try even harder for the Japan concerts. And even to you, your own biggest critic, the change had been noticeable. And nothing short of exhilarating.

By the last concert in the country, you were excited to step on the side of the stage. You wanted to speak to ATINY, you wanted to share the beautiful words ATEEZ were sending their way, with them. It was your duty and your desire. And it is a commonly known fact that a job that is loved, is a job that turns into fun.

It was that exact concert that had become your 'break'. Right at the end, when everyone was saying their goodbyes, San decided to give you a special mention, to which the lighting team had responded by, quite literally, putting the spotlight on you.

Over thirty thousand people in the arena, and even more online, now knew who the woman behind the voice was. They knew who was, effectively, dubbing their favourite K-Pop group.

The shoutout had been entirely unexpected, sure, and it had made your confidence crumble a little as you struggled to find the right words to both thank San and translate what was happening. It felt like two conflicting signals were entering your brain at the same time.

But at the same time, it made you feel real. It made you feel like you really had been speaking. And that you had been heard. The beauty and the curse about language, was that it was a tool to connect. Even in written form. It's perception and appreciation could only be achieved if there was a person to do it. And in spoken form, seeing the nods, hearing the sighs, any reactions from another, that was the way you knew you had done your job.

So instead of cowering away, like you would have done only a couple of years ago, you stepped into the light, in front of the audience. You thanked them from the bottom of your heart, bowing, and then, turned to do the same to ATEEZ, with perfect grace, and honest appreciation. The photographs of you had rapidly made rounds around the internet, and the hashtag #thankyouYN had climbed up in trending on Twitter for a short while.

It was odd to think that you felt at home in the environment that you had been afraid of, and that people praised you for what you had been insecure about all your life. At the same time, you did not want to be a star, and even when ATINY sent you messages, or cheered for you, you kindly tried to switch the attention back to ATEEZ. You were there because you loved languages, and had been selected to use that love in a way that helped connect the real shining, talented and hard-working stars with the loyal, brilliant and kind fans.

If your short progression from a nervous new hire to a fully-fledged interpreter with a tour under your belt were to be simplified, one could say that San had been a catalyst for your opening up. Thus, he might have been the reason why you had been made a permanent member of staff.

it was only so far that luck could carry you, and without having the skill and dedication to your name, KQ had the power to dismiss you with a click of a finger. There were undoubtedly thousands of talented interpreters out there, who would have dropped everything to go to the US and beyond. But KQ had settled for you. And you wanted to do your best to do everything in your power to make ATEEZ perfectly international.

And just like that, a whirlwind of a world tour had passed, and you, plushie in hand, and heavy luggage rolling behind you, were on your way home to an apartment that probably forgot that it even had an owner (who - shocker - still had to pay rent even when continents away). You were told that you were to have a 'bit of a break' since the group was to firstly rest, and secondly focus on local promotions for the next couple of months.

What did that mean for you? It was time to become a social recluse and freelance some translations. Another side benefit that had come from your increase in popularity was that you had come to get more commissions both through your independent channels, and through company requests.

It was easy enough to plough through the standard documents that publishing houses sent you, the only difficulty being if say, you had been translating from Korean to Japanese for hours on end, and then your next project asked you to translate English to Spanish, you would need a moment to rewire a bit. But at the same time that was the fun bit - keeping up fluency to a top-level professional standard in as many languages as you could.

What was a little less easy, but had grown to be your guilty pleasure, was the private commissions you received. Of course, you had your set of rules, limitations, restrictions - whatever one wanted to call it, but undoubtedly, the individual was more creative than the corporation. You had received requests to translate long paragraphs of breakup texts, fan fiction - though you did have to put an end to that era since you had begun to receive... interesting ATEEZ content, love poems, dark poems, essays... if it was written, you had probably received it at least once.

Since starting this little side adventure, you had been quite selective, as this was still a portfolio of your work, and you needed to keep a good image. So you were no stranger to dismissing orders if they did not sit right with you.

This was exactly what you were doing, early morning upon your return. The sun was streaming into your bedroom as you were sat at your desk, clicking and typing away response after response, deletion after deletion... until one particular request had caught your eye.

It had been sent at an odd time of night, but who were you to judge - you had not even slept yet. The writing felt familiar, friendly, open. The greeting and explanation were all respectful, and they had even commented on some of the work you had previously done.

They were also honest about how they had discovered you - they were a dedicated ATINY, and a big reader, so when they found out who the skilled Korean to Japanese interpreter for ATEEZ was, they really wanted to get to know your work better. And after doing so, felt it only right to request your services.

You were flattered, and after looking through the file they had sent - which turned out to be an excerpt from a very recently published Korean book that had not been translated to any language yet, you agreed to help. With a smile on your face, you sent back an email accepting the order, adding a reminder of expected timescales and fees.

"OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS IT IS HAPPENING IT IS HAPPENING IT IS HAPPENING SHE RESPONDED AND SHE ACCEPTED AAAAAAH"

San yelled at the top of his voice, nearly approaching Wooyoung's witch laugh register. Seonghwa, who had made the mistake of sitting right next to him rapidly covered his ears and winced as the action did not help - the man took him by the shoulder and started shaking him excitedly, while rereading the standard business email from you as though it was a Nobel laureate's magnum opus.

With the hoots of support from the rest of the members, they were sure to have scared off any form of wilderness and other visitors in the vicinity - since they had a few days off, on a whim they decided to get out of the dorms and enjoy nature by going on a camping trip.

Though this action seemed to result only in higher phone use than usual, particularly from San, who had reached his breaking point when it came to you.

It was obvious from the start that he was not indifferent towards you. From the quick glances in your direction, to the efforts that he had made in secret to try and improve both his English and Japanese (to the point of changing language settings on his devices and getting some novels and textbooks in the respective languages), he was always paying attention to what you were doing.

During concerts, when he knew you were out there on the stage, ready and in place before a talking segment, he would perform with even more vigour, sending the cameras his most alluring glances. He knew you would be looking at the screens, and he wanted you to focus on him.

And then there was his new role as president of the interpreter fan club. This was an inside joke floating around the fandom, becoming more popular when during a concert in the US, he had decided to jokingly test you by saying pickup lines he had learned in different languages. Everyone had taken it to be 'classic San being playful', but his intention was to just shamelessly flirt with you.

But he was the one who had ended up being flustered as you translated all that he said without your eyes leaving him a single time, a hint of a smirk on your face. It was almost like you were saying it all right back to him. Only him. He hoped that were the case.

If he were to be any more obvious, Hongjoong personally would make a public service announcement about San being all up in his feelings for you. He had busted through the wall of being just a fan like a monster truck, and was already a few months deep in the infatuation phase.

"Who's the simp now, huh?" Hongjoong could not resist taking a jab at the younger member, out of respect for the nerve cells he had lost.

The only downside was that San was not even denying it, nor fighting against the label. Instead he just kept on showing those near him the fact that he had an email from you, and in the future he would have a translation, done just for him, by you. And what fun was it if the person you were trying to roast had no verbal ammo at the ready?

"At least it's not bath water he is buying..." Seonghwa whispered, still unable to fully recover from the shake-up and massaging his now sore shoulder.

"We couldn't find it, that's next on the list." Wooyoung picked up on the retort. He approached San and patted him on the back, "Isn't that right?"

"Oh fuck off... but for real this is so cool. She is going to be doing what she loves, and doing it for me~" in a sing-song voice, he recounted, again, the battle plan that he and the rest of ATEEZ had conjured.

"See? I told you it would be a good idea." Yunho commented proudly, while climbing out of his tent. Mingi followed suit, though he did not get out fully, instead choosing to sit right at the entrance and applaud himself from there:

"And look at me go with that perfect book choice."

It had been a very spontaneous decision to pick it, but he did not have to market it as such. Since he was the one to actually go into book stores at least sometimes, the members trusted him well enough to go with what he proposed.

"Well executed, lads. Mission successful, we are levelling up." Wooyoung clapped his hands and gave a quick salute, while San was still in his own reality.

A rare silence fell upon the group. But, just as they were about to move on, with some of the members being on 'response-crafting duty', Yeosang, after much pondering, stated:

"Senpai is finally noticing you after like... a year," which finally snapped San out of his enchantment.

"HEY it's only been like... nine months... and a bit... that isn't a year!" he tried to sound convincing, but it just came out as desperate. At least he stopped himself from saying the exact number of weeks and days since he had first met you.

"Yeah, yeah, keep saying that."

"This is exactly why we are doing operation 'Love Language'." to come to the smitten one's defense, Yunho piped in, now having managed to wedge himself between San and Seonghwa, the latter mouthing him a 'thank you' with a pained smile.

"I thought it was because we are sick and tired of his shit?" Jongho asked monotonously, head perched on his hand while he had at the far end of the picnic table ATEEZ had expropriated.

"That too! But-"

"And that if he goes any harder on stage he'll turn into Magic Mike?" Yeosang took Jongho's side in a split second, them exchanging a knowing look of comrades in misery.

"Careful, ATINY might ask for that."

The captain attempted to get the discussion back on at least some kind of track, while being well aware that this group had a special talent in de-railing. And his comment did not help a single bit, instead provoking Wooyoung.

"They already do, ever been online?"

"I have, and it's either cursed conspiracy theories about our lore or thirst edits." Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, getting flashbacks to an impossibly long Twitter thread that he spent half an hour of his life on, just to confirm that at this point, him and CEO Kim Gyu Uk were alone in big-braining the universe.

"I bet you watch demon line edits Joongie-" Wooyoung winked at him, and sent some finger guns.

"Right this is OFF TOPIC!" the captain attempted to rein the kids in, albeit half-heartedly.

"There's a topic?" Yeosang leaned over to Jongho and asked him, not expecting a response, since it was obviously 'no'.

"Yeah, and it is that Y/N and San are going to be in closer contact now." Wooyoung addressed the group, stretching his hands out, every bit a narrator on stage.

"But isn't it more like: Y/N being in contact with San who is parading as an ATINY with an interesting taste in books?" Mingi raised an eyebrow and questioned.

"Tom-ay-to tom-ah-to, whatever. At least they're going to be talking more personally."

"And not in front of my fuckin' salad," the maknae asserted, "I am seriously surprised she has not caught on that you are trying to pull moves all this time."

"Maybe... just maybe... I have a sneaking suspicion... that it could be the million-person audience that does it. Really sets a romantic, and intimate mood." Seonghwa added, words dripping with irony.

"Well, you guys, there isn't much that I can really do about that, can I? This is what our jobs and lifestyles are."

With an exasperated sigh, San shut off his phone and slumped down on the bench, just nearly missing Yunho. He cupped his head in his hands, and gazed off, wistfully, into the distance. As of late, when he was not practicing or performing, he would be be daydreaming, just like this.

"Maybe you could just forget that and... ask her out?" Hongjoong verbally knocked San back into the ring,

"SAYS WHO? My man, do you want me to remind you of a couple of things?"

"Yeah, please do, and I will remind you of your shamelessness and the death wish you apparently still have."

"Gents, gents! We still have a 'thank you' email to write, we need at least one brain cell for that."

Yunho's call for action ended up being the most effective of all, as the group gathered around San, and commenced shouting over one another in an attempt to write a single coherent line acknowledging that the information has been received, and that they will be paying half the fee shortly.

Why had the call been effective? Because San managed to do the impossible. He managed to drive his fellow members up the wall with his pining to the point where they could not take it anymore, and made it their mission to save San.

It was Y/N this, Y/N that. All. The. Time.

"Y/N taught me some English slang the other day, do you want to hear?"

"Did you know that Y/N co-translated this bestseller?"

"Have you heard her speaking in French? I am out here only knowing 'Paris Baguette' and she is like a native - while saying that she barely knows it."

"Did you see how she looked at me after that performance? Told you it was a good idea for me to change the outfit up!"

"Wait I'll be back in five minutes I want to say hi to Y/N!"

Even Wooyoung minimised his teasing, simply because the man was totally gone. There had been a phase for about a month where his affection towards you maybe was within the realm of reasonable, and 'light' enough for the rest of ATEEZ to poke fun at him.

But San being San, that changed fast. The more chances he got to speak with you, the more he got to find out what you liked, the more certain he became that 'you were the one', you were 'talent and skill itself' and you were the dream alive.

At the same time, San being San, he was not verbal about his feelings. Not even a bit. In his mind, that was over-stepping, and was off limits. So he did everything else 'over the top' instead.

The peak of it had of course been the 'putting you on a (well-deserved) pedestal' in front of ATINY. That had been a cry of a man who fell hard and fast in love, and that same night, ATEEZ had hosted a UN-level meeting around how to proceed. Hongjoong had already been aware that you were going to be extended a permanent offer, so timelines did not matter much - except for the remnants of the members' sanity.

Wooyoung ended up interrupting the proceedings with his screech of "IT IS OKAY TO FALL IN LOVE", and as such, the action was let go, only to see it become a much adored trend in the fandom. The members thought that this would mean major progress. But no. No, you had to be the oblivious one.

Had to be the one so dedicated to her job that you interpreted San's signals as general friendliness and support. You respected him, yes. You most definitely were grateful to him, and out of all ATEEZ members you spoke to him the most. But to none of them was it ENOUGH.

Even when he had made you to interpret his flirtations (as prompted by Wooyoung), you took it just as 'a regular day with ATEEZ', whilst making him nearly go into cardiac arrest.

That was when the plan came about. To strike through literature. Through language. To express love through the pages of a book, in the hopes of translating that to real feeling. It was convoluted, and had no real outcome except trusting chance, and fate, but San was enough of a hopeless romantic to agree to it in a heartbeat.

Because what was the fun in confessing over text, right? He had your number, you messaged one another before, but again, 'what if he ruined something by messaging the wrong thing'? Besides, he could not think of an excuse to text you outside of work without feeling like he was being too pushy.

Thus, operation 'Love Language' became everyone's problem, and everyone's daily dose of drama.

Except for you, without a clue, having brewed some tea, sat down like L from Death Note on your chair, and got to work.

#san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez san x reader #choi san #san x y/n #ateez san #your fan series #ateez #hwaightme #ateez x reader #🍯🍋recs #yeah Kang to the Yeo to the Sang why is magic mike San bad!!??🤔👀#operation love language is the cutest!!!!🥹💛#I love how Hongjoong is still peeved with San #i mean i would be too if San played mr steal your girl just for me to ask them out before him🤦‍♀️😔#but it's all of ateez wingman go time for San!!🤭👏👏#also chaotic ateez camping trip!?🤣💀#and san mountain. y/n river. yes.

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antibadnik-a · 5 years ago

Note

11. When did you start roleplaying?17. Do you prefer winging it or plotting everything out?9. Do you write fanfiction, or have you in the past?4. What are some of your rp pet peeves?

interrogayt me, rain kingdomhearts. / accepting. / @heroquills

11. i’ve been roleplaying on forums, mostly meez, since i was around eleven years old! crazy times. i was a tiny gremlin back then. now im a big gremlin.

17. i’m miserably bad at plotting if i’m being honest, sans moments of genius that usually end up being like ‘hey guys what if we did [ insert really angsty idea here ]’ and then my friends scream at me. i do like having basic ideas for stuff, but i rarely get into the nitty gritty unless someone else is egging me on. so my natural state is def winging it.

9. i used to write a lot of fanfic, though i rarely do anymore. i do write some drabbles about my ocs from time to time ( i wrote one for my aeducan just today !! ) but for the most part proper fics just ain’t in me anymore.

4. i don’t like people who air their negative opinions about how people write on the dash --- sans stuff like ableism and etc, obvi. but like, if you think a characterization is cringy or a type of prose is too much, keep it to your private discord servers, you know. if you put it on the dash, you just hurt people for no reason.

i also dislike how much aesthetic continues to come to overtake accessibility and readability. im dyslexic francis pls be gentle with me.

#ooc.#ANSWERED.#thank u 4 giving an excuse 4 me 2 talk abt myself i love u #heroquills

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fanfictionfrustration · 7 years ago

Text

Data with Data. (Star Trek one shot)

Data x Reader

Fandom: Star Trek

Character: Data

Plot:

You collect more than one kind of Data.

Data was sat at his station as per usual on the enterprise, you’d been sneaking glances at him all day, trying to be inconspicuous about it, but failing miserably. You were new to working on the bridge. You’d been assigned the task of monitoring some background Data, but you were more engaged in monitoring another kind of Data.

“[Y/n]” A soft voice came from behind you, and someone lightly tapped on your shoulder.

You turn to see Commander Troy smiling at you softy. “Troy, how can I help you?” You say returning her gentle grin.

Troy and you had been getting on rather well, you considered her a good friend, and were always glad to see her.

“May I speak with you alone for a moment?” She says looking towards the doors.

“Of course.” You say standing and following her out.

You walk down a little until Troy finds an empty room for you to talk.

“Your feelings” Troy stated as she turned to look at you.

“My feelings?” You say taken aback by her forwardness.

“I’ve been trying to ignore you all day, but it’s almost as if you are screaming them into my head.” She said sighing heavily.

“Oh Troy I’m so sorry, I’ve not meant…” You begin, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

“It’s fine [y/n] really, but pleased tell Data how you feel.” She said bluntly, leaning against a desk in the small room you’d found.

You could practically see your face change into a rosy red. Was it really that obvious? “Data? What are you talking about Troy?” You say trying to lie your way out of the situation.

“[Y/n], please don’t try and deny it, you’ve been staring at him all day.” She said, obviously not buying your lie. “Just please think about telling him.” She said before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Maybe she was right, well she was definitely right about one thing you did like Data a lot. But could you tell him? Should you tell him? You sat thinking to yourself for a while, before deciding to return to the bridge . You walked slowly returning to your post, thoughts of Data swirling in your mind.

* * * * * *

You’d been sat watching the numbers and graphs changing for what seemed like hours, it was only when you realized a huge spike in the numbers that you felt that rush of excitement you craved. Finally, a reason for you to speak with Data. Rising from your station, you make your way over to the Lieutenant Commander.

“Lieutenant Commander Data,” You say respectfully, your heart practically banging on your chest to get out.

“[Y/n], how may I be of assistance?” He says looking up at you.

“There seems to be some form of irregularity in the data I’ve been monitoring.” You explain, handing over a tablet with all of the work you had been studying.

Data took it looking at the numbers quickly.

“Hmm interesting, would you mind accompanying me to the engine room.” He says, pushing back the com and gesturing for you to go first.

You nod to him and lead the way. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him as you walked side by side towards the engine room. You could barely speak to him when others were around, but to be alone with him was a whole different matter.

Data finally broke the silence, “It is not often we spend time alone with one another, I feel we should get to know one another better.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, “Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right Lieutenant.” You agree shyly.

“Please [Y/n], you may call me Data.” He said looking down at you, offering a comforting smile.

You offer him a soft smile in response, “Well, Data I was wondering why we are heading to the engine room?”

“Ah, a good question, I wanted to compare the schematics of the engines with the numbers you had documented, there may be a slight error in our system,” He explained as you approach the engine room door.

“I see.” You say as you step into the room.

Data moves around the room, locating a computer ready to begin his work, you follow closely behind him, eager to see the outcome of your find. Some time passes before either of you speak again, you had enjoyed watching Data work, he fascinated you. It always amazed you, how quickly he was able to absorb information, as he said himself he is a more superior being to when compared with the human race, so much more efficient.

“I have noted how often you seem to stare at me [y/n].” He stated as his eyes quickly flicked in your direction, snapping you out of your daydream.

You felt your cheeks burn as his words sink in.

“I’m sorry Data, I mean no offense,” Apologizing seemed like the best option in this situation.

“It Is quite alright, I find myself oddly drawn to you also.” His eyes really focusing on you this time, lingering on your face a little before tearing themselves to concentrate on the screen in front of him.

“Oh,” Escapes your lips, unsure of what to say to Data’s honesty.

“There,” He says suddenly pointing at the screen, “There is our error,” He looks at you triumphantly a smile wide across his face.

A sense of pride washed over you, as though you had actually done something to help the enterprise.

“That’s wonderful Data, that we could find the error I mean, not that there is an error,” You ramble.

“Yes, I can resolve this issue immediately.” He explained as he jotted down a note or two.

“Well, I’m going to return to the bridge then,” You say standing slowly.

Data hurried to his feet before you could leave, “[Y/n], I found your company on this most enjoyable, if I may be permitted, I would like to spend some more time with you, outside of the work environment.”

A rush of confidence waves through you, “Like a Date, Data?”

You see his eyes dart away from you suddenly as if he were embarrassed almost.

“Yes, we did not get to talk much here, and I’ve heard a date is where a person with a great desire to better understand another person can talk freely with one another.” He babbles.

“Sure Data, that sounds fun,” You grin happily.

Surprised at yourself, you softly grab his arm, pulling yourself towards his cheek, kissing him gently, before leaving the room briskly, your heart feeling as though it might explode at any moment.

You return to the bridge, a smile wide on your face, you sit back at your post, ready to continue with your work. You hear a door open, and Data smiling happily to himself comes strutting back into the room. You watch as he sits back at his post, embarrassment settling its self uncomfortably in your stomach. Your lipstick had left a perfect kiss mark on his cheek.

“Um, buddy.” You heard Geordi say to Data.

“Yes?” An innocent response comes.

“You…you’ve got a little something on your cheek.” He says stifling a laugh.

You watch as Data rubs at his face, removing your kiss mark.

“Thank you.” A puzzled Data response.

In the corner of your eye, you notice Troy turn to you, giving you a knowing proud look, sighing you turn back to your work. Back to your Data.

-END-

A/n -

Im sorry if this was written poorly im very dyslexic.

#data star trek #data x reader #star trek #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #fanfic #data

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tedfashionski · 4 years ago

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Finking, Finking.

Hi, welcome to my ted talk. (That is the only time I will ever make that joke. This is Fashionski Finks. Expect radically low standards of self-involved rantiness with zero research or accountability from here on out). For a while there I seriously thought that the covid-19 quarantine was going to result in people being increasingly placid and accepting of creeping extensions of the police state. But here I am, getting depressed again, not about the protests, which I love, but more about my relationship to in-group pressure dynamics. One of the problems with being a relentless contrarian is the discomfort of my impulse to rebel against groups even when they’re championing the right thing. I have to find my own way to fight against the system as an outsider. No gods, no masters, no fucking peer pressure. I’ll never be happy joining a chorus line. I don’t sign fucking petitions (they’re just lists for the NSA). I do donate, but like fuck will I do it performatively. I can’t go to protests cus I get panic attacky in crowds. I empathise pretty strongly with outsiders of all stripes but believe ridiculously excessively in the public good of criticism, and have a nostalgic love of trolling (I like to think I’m gentle with it though). Bring back the troll! We need that fucker, he’s a sign of a healthy internet. I’m writing this blog thing as an extension of my need to vent my extreme negativity. TBH I never expected to get any followers with ted twitter and the bizarre welcomingness of the hf twitter community totally wrongfooted me. I’m not nice. Ted isn’t meant to likable. He’s my dark side. I was meant to be using this alt as a way to terrorise the nice nice (secretly cruel) fashion people. I’m gunna try and up that aspect more. Just bear in mind, my complaints are largely about the system, but if I see you perpetuating fashion’s entrenched anti-intellectualism or its insidery bullshit, I’ll come for you with a little meta-bomb with your name on it. Maintaining my misanthropic tone does take work tho, like, deep down in some twisted part of my psyche, I guess I do actually want to be liked. It’s fucked up.

I suppose it’s only fair to explain this Ted fursona. Like, new concept, who dis? Why all the furry porn? …..because I just think it’s hilarious. Every time I think about the furries I cackle (not at them, mind). I just love the mad corruption of pure Disney aesthetics into hardcore pornography. That’s anti-authoritarian as fuck. I love the sincerity of their culture. The way the crazy fetish aspect means they’ll never be fully blandified by mainstream acceptance. The way it’s so cringe but so delightful. And more seriously, I’m interested in how a culture of mostly gay male nerds developed to the point where they’ll invest 10k in custom fursuits and support eachother’s independent businesses in ways that the fashion community completely fails to do. The fashion world sucks. There’s so many correlations there that I want to investigate: the newness (furries date from around the 70s, fashion culture in its self-aware state dates from the late 19th C – both very young fields); the centralisation/decentralisation; the hierarchy (furries can be pretty catty, I have discovered in my research, and we all know what fashion people are like); the adoption of new identities; the cis-boy gayness aspect (I’m increasingly tired of the extreme nasty hierarchy of certain CSM queens. It’s all very UGH. Just, fuck those particular bitches.) There’s more to the furry love, but I’ll explore it in future posts.

More importantly, why Ted fucking Kaczynski? I’m not like, actually a terrorist. (….yet. tehehe. NO, seriously I like non-maiming violence. Fuck yeah to property damage. Fuck yeah to disabling the system in extreme way. But no to wooden IEDs. Think of my shitty jokes that fail to land as my hand-crafted bombs). I think I like the shitness of Ted. He was just an epic fail of a terrorist. I’m a little white girl living in London. I’m not actually a primitivist, as much as I crave a hut in the woods. I did go to an elite school though. I had some really shitty experiences in the fashion industry in my early 20s, and I watch my friends who are relatively successful in that system and I get so angry on their behalf at their poor treatment. They think I’m too angry. Fuck that. They should be more angry, and the fact that they can’t be angry at their extreme precarity and the fact they’re still insecure and terrified of being ejected by the system after all their investment and skills they’ve built up is BULLSHIT. I’ll be double angry for them, I’m not invested in that system. I don’t need it to pay my rent. I’m free, motherfuckers, and I’m coming for the abusers and exploiters. If you’re a complacent industry figure not fighting hard from within, uggghhhhh fuck you. Yes, YOU. Soooo, I relate pretty hard to the MK ultra stuff. (go look him up, he was basically tortured and experimented upon by the elite). But there’s a pretty big chasm between my views and his, and I’ll try to be clear about the extent of my interest in his extreme beliefs. I haven’t even finished reading the manifesto. Basically, I watched that shitty show on Netflix with sam worthington around the same time I watched Joker (that movie fucked me up) and thought it’d be a good outlet to larp online as a terrorist. There’s the angry white alt-right school shooter aspect, which I’m still figuring out, cus I’m non-binary and I was raised by nutso trumpy right-wingers, who I barely speak to anymore, and I struggle to get along with people generally. There’s sad, self-pitying rage here. I empathise with the angry white dudes too much. I feel guilty about it. That’s good ground for artmaking (yes, shamefully, this…is…art. Sorry). I modelled this fursona a little after my brother, who I spent years living with and arguing with and trying to lift out of his scary racist youtube rabbit holes. This is actually quite an emotional thing for me, cus I did the ‘talk to your fascist family’ thing. And I completely failed. I realised his right-winginess wasn’t lessening, I wasn’t gaining ground, and in fact my excessive empathy and desire to reach out to the relative most similar to me in character meant his extremism was rubbing off on me. Making me more resentful and depressed. Feeling powerless. I was being too kind-hearted and forgiving of his masculine impotence. So I’m exploring some personal shit here. But Ted is also a cute lil fuzzball teddy bear. He means well, but me being super autistic and faily at social skills means he’s kind of a dick, cus I am. I’m going to try and further develop this character, this POV, and this post is the only time I’ll explain the divide between him and his creator (moi). The ‘I’ on the twitter and here is Ted Fashionski, I need that space between me and him. Masks give us this freedom to be more ourselves. Internet culture has lost a lot of its wild brutal anonymity in the last decade or so, now everyone’s afraid of making mistakes. How the hell do you grow if you’re not allowed to fuck up? This is a vital outlet. He’s become an important part of my life and I have to say, I love being Ted Fashionski. He’s like Paddington Bear who just escaped form Guantanamo or something.

I get pretty fatigued as a matter of course. I’m a long-term depressive since childhood. I have a difficult time keeping my hard-on for living. I don’t get suicidal really but I do struggle with extreme fatigue. I sleep a lot. I often fall into spirals of self-hate. And as someone who utterly believes in revolutionary leftist politics, I beat myself up about not doing enough. I’m so middle class and english and white. I was raised in such a chauvinistic and complacent culture; I don’t even know where to start. I’m wading my way through post-colonial literature and beating myself up for finding it boring and uncomfortable. It’s hard to force yourself to acknowledge your culture is The Bad Guys. It’s easier to fall into fanstasies of supremacy and butthurt misunderstoodness. And it’s not like my depressive brain needs any encouragement to hate me. My trajectory is ever leftwards, but I remember the righteous fury of being right-wing. I get it, that was me. We need more paths back from fascism, more comprehension of why people are that kind of shitty. I talk less, and less well, the more depressed I am. If I’m talking, it means im feeling a lot better. Just, fyi.

Give me a minute to be critical here. With the George Floyd protests, a lot of the cool guys on fashion twitter has gone blazingly hardcore on the political side. But there’s this troubling rhetoric about ‘no return to normal content’ or ‘this isn’t the time for fashion’. Like fuck it isn’t. This is a key problem with fashion culture right here, we have this received perception of fashion as empty escapism. Escapism matters in fashion, yes. But seriously, talking about the surfaces of things does not equal not caring about deeper meaning. What the fuck. Clothes are a connective tissue, a membrane between us. They’re emotional and powerful. We can talk about things that matter THROUGH clothes. I speak fashion, pretty fucking well. Most people who work at fashion magazines are morons with no understanding or respect for their subject. They’re incapable of doing it justice, and that’s deliberate. On this tumblr you’ll see rants and reviews of fashion and other artforms, always interpreting through a fashion lens. cus it matters, cus it’s a vital part of the culture, cus just because something has a glittery, seductive surface doesn’t mean it doesn’t communicate or contain depth. There’s no going back to ‘normal fashion content’, yes. Normal fashion content is a fucking psyop to divert legitimate interest in aesthetics amongst largely non-academic dyslexic visual types away from careful thought/feeling and towards empty consumerist commericiality. The traditional fashion media wants you to express yourself and your interest in the zeitgeist through buying more shit. Another fashion world is possible. Let’s destroy the old and build a new one, one where surface and spirit are connected and true and fashion can’t be abused in service of evil industrial monopolists.

/end rant. TLDR: angry fictional teddy bear with tin-foil hat and an eco-anarchist fetish says no to stupid fashion and yes to the renewal of conceptual fashion. Also, Fuck White People.

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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a friendly face

a lil one inspired from seeing the recent interviews abt cherry - yes im a couple days late but am very slow. This is basically stolen and adapted from another of my stories so I don't think there's any bits left over by my dyslexic proof reading isnt that great so apologies!!! very speech heavy so sorry am trying to balance my writing more

Summary: Tom is having a hard time filming Cherry and dealing with the emotional baggage of it, so Harry recruits someone to make everything that little bit better.

tomhollandxreader

fluff and a little angst I guess?

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Harry, Tom and their driver Sian where all sitting in the car having left the set 20 minutes ago, heading back to their accommodation. Or more precisely, Harry and Sian sat in the two front seats- Harry only in the front as to allow Tom to lie down across the three back seats. He was asleep, or at least looked asleep, but Harry knowing his brother so well knew he was just wishing he was. The day had been torturous for Tom, they’d been filming a hospital sequence in which his character was heart broken. The sequence had involved him being thrown onto the floor multiple times, by a heavy handed stunt double who was not nearly as precise as those he’d worked with at ‘marvel’. Furthermore, there was also multiple scenes of him having to properly cry on camera, which although it sounds tame, is one of the hardest things you can ever ask an actor to do. At least, someone who commits half as much as Tom. For him to show that emotion, he had to go back to a place in his life where he didn’t really ever want to venture again. But even then, this character was such a fuck up, he had to do deeper. He felt completely drained, emotionless and cold. But he couldn’t sleep, not for the guilt he felt for being short with everyone on set- he had never been like that before, he just felt like no one was respecting or understanding what he was going through. So instead he just lay on his side, facing the backs of the leather seats, arms folded in stubbornness- even if he had no idea why.

“Tom?…Tom, I know you’re awake… Look, we need to make a quick stop. You gotta come out.” Harry was actually slightly nervous his brother would just point blank refuse, even if he needed this so bad.

“I just need to get back to the apartment. Please Harry. Can’t we do it tommorrow?” The desperation dripping off Tom’s voice actually pained Harry to listen to. He knew Tom was having a crisis about how he treated everyone today, so chose to ignore his please in favour of some assurance.

“You know everyone understands… They just kept asking me if you were alright?” Harry could see the guilt radiating off Tom. It hurt him to see his big brother like this.

“Please… I just need to get back” His small voice barely made it to the front of the car, but Harry heard it all.

“It will take 2 minutes tops, I had a delivery but I need a hand carrying it, come on” Harry spoke as Sian turned on the indicator to pulled up next to the sidewalkpavement; the car slowing to a gentle halt. Tom didn’t reply, instead huffing as he used the head rest of the middle seat to pull himself up. Already out the car, Harry opened the door for him waiting patiently, because Harry knew he would be a hundred times better off in just a few moments.

“What the hell have you even ordered that’s so big?” Tom sighed while ducking through the door into the cold Cleveland air, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as Harry motioned for him to follow his feet.

“Oh um don’t know, a good friend sent it actually” Harry tried to hide the grin that was spread over his face from showing in his voice, as he saw a very familiar head of hair running toward them.

“What friend?” Tom looked up sassily toward Harry, shortly questioning who would send Harry a parcel from England that was too big to be delivered or carried by himself. Only then, nearly 5 metres away from Sian in the car, did Tom look up to see where they were. It wasn’t the nearest post office or delivery warehouse - they were at the airport. “Harry what’s going on?” Tom questioned with a low and warning voice, skipping a step or two in order to catch up with his younger brother.

“We’re collecting her” Harry smiled as he nodded forward. Following his gaze with eyes wide open, Tom turned forward just in time to see Y/h/c flying over his face as he was engulfed by someones arms. Immediately sensing exactly who this was, Tom did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push his head into your neck. Smelling the familiar perfume, Tom couldn’t help but scoff, allowing a the jerky breath to leave his lungs as you arched away from the hug, cupping Tom’s face with both her hands.

“I’ve been reliably informed you could use a friendly face” you smiled, noticing his raw emotions threatening to overtake him, so swiftly pressing just pressing your lips onto his. Seemingly frightened to move, Tom barely reacted to the kiss, so you pushed and deepened into it a little more- till you felt him relaxing against you. With that, you arched away again and smiled massaging his stubbly hair behind his left ear.

“How are you here?” He croaked staring deeply at her, switching between her left and right eye as if that somehow would confirm that this was real, not some cruel dream he was having.

“Someone somewhere knew you were in need and bought me a plane ticket over… I’m coming home with you on monday” You grinned while watching Tom’s eyes light up, he leaned in again to your lips instead of replying.

“Er-cuh-huh” Harry loudly cleared his throat, causing the two to pull away from each other. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sian isn’t really allowed to stop there long sooo” They both nodded, before Tom lunged at his brother, holding him close and whispering thanks too. It was clear this was at least partly Harry’s doing, and he could never thank his brother enough.

“Umm.. as much as I’m enjoying this brotherly love we really do have to get back in the car” Harry awkwardly spoke as he almost pushed Tom off him.

“Awww my favourite little brother being all mature” You giggled, taking your turn to hug Harry, admittedly a little shorter than Tom’s, but still with lots of gratitude.

“Please get stop loving me and get back into the car!” Harry yelled as he stormed off to Sian, leaving both you and Tom in fits of laughter. Grasping each others hand simultaneously the laughter continued as you followed Harry down the street to the car.

Seeing you standing there; feeling your arms wrapped round his neck ; hearing your oh so sweet voice had Tom feeling…. Feeling lighter. It was as though your mere presence gave him the strength to carry all the things that were previously weighing him down like a truck. What was extraordinary though, was how it wasn’t just psychological. He literally felt his joints feel looser, he felt his body flood with warmth and he felt his heart calming down. When you’d first been getting close to each you’d had rather the opposite effect. Which was surprising because that was at the point Tom had never felt more confident - he had just returned form a avengers press tour, where naturally everyone had just loved him and played up to his every whim. He had legions of girls, some of them drop dead gorgeous where falling at his feet. And yet, when he met you it was as though he was transported back into his incredibly awkward teenage years. It was infuriating, he knew he could act cool and unbothered and smooth however as soon as you stood informant of his it was like his mind melted, filling it with utter gibberish and garble. In fact, he was plainly floored by you - how kind and pure hearted you were, how respectful and how you found hhis jilted flirting adorable and not to forget how drop dead gorgeous you are.

It had taken a while and a hell of a lot of opening up, but over time he found the opposite happening. Your presence became something else entirely, not one that would put him on his toes and have his heart racing - more of a comfort. He slept better when you were beside him, his nerves never got the better of him if you were there to cheer him on. He could relax completely without any fear of judgement, any worry at all with you. What you had done is change the definition of something so fudemental and a given in life. You’d changed home from a place to something much more intangible. A person; a feeling; a connection. You were his home.

“Sian are we close?” You asked, turning your attention away from the two brothers annecdotes from filming, realising Sian must’ve been driving for about 30 minutes.

“Yep just the next right I think” Sian replied gently while turning the wheel as the indicator clicked.

“Where are we going?” Tom asked, looking first at you then pleadingly at Harry- knowing he had more of a chance with his brother.

“Well” You started and he whipped his head back round “I know it’s late and you’ve been working all day, but you have alater 10 o’clock call time tomorrow instead of 6, so this is the best night to do something. We found a driving range-with heaters” which was a very important factor since Cleveland was bloody freezing “- that we thought you’d like to play a game or two?” The massive smile in response meant you’d hit the nail on the head.

“And soz but I’m crashing the game otherwise- and no offence, but you would win waayyyy toooo easy Tom” Harry butted in and sniggered as he interrupted the lovey-dovey stares. You gasped at that in mock offence, holding your hand over your chest.

“Oi you, Paddy has been teaching on the Holland boys days out you both missed- I’ll have you know I now am aware that you have to get the ball into the hole, not a goal as previously thought.”

The boys both groaned in unison and Y/n wiggled her eyebrow grinning, elbowing Tom slightly in the side. “Things might have changed since you left you know?”

Yet another thing Tom loved so completely about you, was how effortlessly you had fitted into his family. Honestly, none of the Hollands could imagine life without you anymore - especially Nikki, who had quite literally attempted adopting you so she officially wasnt the only female in the immediate family. Sam used you as an expert taster for all his marvellous culinary creations (even if your judgement was always the same, it was very good); Dom often ended up picking your brains about your work, he found you ‘actual proper’ job as a doctor simply amazing , where all his family had never been especially acadmeically gifted; and Paddy just plain saw you as his older sister. So it was hardly surprising at all that when two of their actual kids flew across the world , you’d been the obvious placeholder. Yes, golf was most definitely your forte - but you were enthusiastic, with a positive (if flightily misguided) give it a go attitude.

The try-try-and-try-again attitude that never really worked … until Paddy taught you how to hit a clean drive.

“I am not joking, I am asking the lady at the desk there’s no way!”

“Tom you are the worst looser I have ever met! I didn’t cheat, I’ve just taken up a new hobby”

“There is no way Tom… no way she can get that good” Harry huffed as he ran straight past you to catch up with Tom, making sure that you did see the harsh glare he shot him. The outrage that Y/n had beaten them both at the driving range was way worse than anything you could’ve predicted- now you sort of were wishing you’d let them win. Oh wait…. Of course you weren’t - this was priceless. Especially their faces when you’d launched your first ball super accurately inn the centre of the second furthest away target. They had reacted as if you had just stripped butt naked, you thought; standing their jaws hanging with a look of almost fear in their eyes.

“You could see the balls land with your own eyes! Practice makes perfect!”

“Thats not fair though! It took you like 8 weeks to be like that?”

“I mean you were obviously just taught by the wrong Holland, Paddy’s a pretty good teacher!” You smiled as your trio turned the corner and walked through reception, seeing Harry desperate to ask the receptionist but Tom just looking over his shoulder to give a hurt look to at you.

“I’m going to ban you from being closer to my brothers than me”

“I can’t help if he’s cuter then you alright?” You smirked and raised an eyebrow, as Tom stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.

“That’s it… your gonna get it” he spoke in a low voice, with a mischievous look in his eye, abruptly he launched himself at you - barely having time to swerve away from him and start a sprint towards the exit, giggling as you took a glance back to see Tom chasing you out, Harry quickly in tow too.

“Your not allowed to beat me at golf!” In a jokey voice, you heard Tom yell, just as you reached the sleek black 4x4 and hurdling yourself into it.

“I’m in the car it’s a no fight zone!” You cowered in the corner,back pressed up against the opposite door and arms crossed to make an ‘x’ sign in front of her body.

“That is not how it works” Tom and Harry grinned from the open door. As fast as lightning they both vaulted in and started tickling you, making you screech curses at the two of them.

“Alright alright kids, no fighting while I’m driving thats an order.” Sian calmly spoke, trying to hide the laughter from her voice, as the two men retreated and helped to pull you up from the position half on the floor that your squirming had gotten you to.

“Get off my leg Tom… arghhh… thanks Sian, I’m sorry they’re so moody, I just whipped their asses at golf”

“You’re here to make me feel better right? Not doing a good job so far” Tom’s snide remark meant you scrunched up your nose while plugging her seatbelt in, making sure to jab Tom’s side hard as you did so.

“How did I end up sandwiched in between you two twats then?” You grinned from the middle seat as Harry just rolled his eyes looking out the window, and Tom gave you a loving smile- not able to hide his relief of your presence.

“Think it’s about a 40 minute drive you gotta enjoy” Sian smiled looking at you via the rear view mirror, to which Tom couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that escaped.

After all he had done much more than the typical 9-5 hours work, and the golfing was an unexpected addition to the already long day. His excitement and just pure joy at having you here had made him forget about It all for a couple of hours - but now his exhaustion was catching up with him with a vengeance. Instinctively you wrapped you arm round Tom and in doing so pulled him into your side.

“Get some rest huh?” You whispered into his forehead, and all Tom could do was reply with a weary nod, letting his eyes slip close to the constant beat of Ally’s heart. You immediately sensed Tom was properly out of it, and contented yourself looking out his window for a few minutes, before you felt something heavy briefly whack your other shoulder. Jumping a little at the contact, you looked round to see Harry’s head bobbing side to side in a light slumber. In the midst of worry for Tom, you hadn’t realised the kid had been doing the same long hours as him. Plus dealing with Tom and being Tom’s support, which surely took it out of him. Harry had always been ‘the most important brother’ in your eyes. Just because Tom trusts him so implicitly and completely, they had an understanding only real brothers could get to but also extended far beyond blood. When you’d first been introduced Harry had been colder to you. It wasn’t personal though, he just wanted to be sure on you and your intentions with Tom because as he well knew often when people saw Tom they didn’t just see an opportunity for love. It was an opportunity for a lifestyle, for fame, for relevance. Harry took a while before he trusted you but now you were miles and miles beyond that point. So now, being at a stage with Harry where he was phoning you to come and fly out to save Tom (and him too). It was not to be taken lightly. Therefore, you gently pressed your hand to Harrys face and pushed him to lean against her other shoulder too- hoping to cure the dark circles under his eyes a little bit too.

You were quite content for the rest of the journey, feeling warmth radiate through your body as the two men breathed deeply and calmly either side of you. You sort of didn’t want the car journeyer to end - but sure enough it wasn’t long till Sian was pulling into the hotel entrance.

“Get you a girl that can do both, beat yo ass at golf and look after your family” Sian whispered as she handed the phone back to you, after having taken some of your favourite ever photos, the 2 boys asleep on your shoulders while you pulled a variety of different faces. Smiling back at Sian, you then sighed-knowing she had to wake the two up, given their exhaustion you didn’t really want to either.

“Boys…boys… hey let’s get you both into bed yeh?” You spoke softly, gently raising your shoulders in order to disturb them both. Harry’s head immediately shot up, his eyes puffy and half open, but a sheepish look on his face as he realised how he was sleeping. Just responding with a smile that said it was all okay, before you turned her attention to Tom- forever stubborn to wake up, at least nothing had changed there.

“Come on Tom, can’t have you sleeping in the car all night” You pushed again, this time lifting Tom’s head, earning a very deep groan as his eyes slid open and he pushed against the movement. It was at this point Harry slammed the car door shut, making Tom jump out of his skin, you loosing the hope of any serene wakeup call. Rubbing Toms arm, relaxing the tension now present in his body you encouraged him once again. “Come on lets get inside mister”

His hotel room was exactly what you’d expect for an a-lister and lead actor in a million pound film. Large, modern, squeaky clean and posh. It was almost too big to be filled by one person though, Tom had always found it a bit cold and just not cosy - why he opted to spend the majority of his down time either fast alseep or in somebody else’s company. Both of those also stopped him getting too much in his head - or more accurately in his characters head. Cherry was a weird character and from interviewing all the veterans and lengthy discussion of his past, Tom almost felt as if he had in some small way experienced what Cherry had. Felt what Cherry did. Thought like Cherry did.

And that was a sure fire way to fuck yourself up.

Now, with you here in his room haphazardly digging through your case, if felt warmer. The cold but brilliant white lights seemed to have softened to a gently warm glow that bounced off your skin and made your figure look almost angelic to Tom. You were his home.

“What are you waiting for?” You mused while turning away from your (now) inside out suitcase, proudly carrying her pyjamas which you had found hidden at the bottom the whole time- not the most practical packing in the world. All the while Tom sat on his bed, back leaning against the headboard and arm bent behind his head too.

“Just thinking that I need to go through all the scenes for tomorrow” A monotonous tone laced his voice, for he knew he couldn’t spend the night the way he really wanted to, safely wrapped up with you.

“Oh… well let’s go through it together then hey? We will be done in no time; but if you want we can go over them again tomorrow morning.” It was a practical suggestion, a helpful action you could implement - even if you had a feeling Tom wouldn’t just agree. Since his lines clearly weren’t the only thing on his mind this evening.

“Yeh but everyone on set is already sick of me after today… I can’t be being shit as well as horrid” his voice was small as the memory of how he snapped at some of the extras had him cringing inwardly at himself. He shouldn’t have been that rude, shouldn’t have blurted it out, should of offered a solution rather than just critiquing.

“Hey would you kindly shut it? No one is sick of you, everyone is just ready for christmas and missing their families. Now get changed” Your soft tone turning into an imperative order, as you threw his pyjama bottoms at the him, smashing into his face before falling into his lap.

“Oi” he shouted, but followed instructions and stood up reaching round to pull his hoodie off. Stood shirtless, his side was exposed to the now changed you, the sight making you gasp and clamber over the bed to gently touch Tom’s back. You followed the outline of an impressive patch of bruising, stretching from the bottom edge of his shoulder blade all the way to his hip.

“Tom, what the hell happened?” Whispering in fear, Tom turned round to face you, seeing your eyes watering up as you kept glancing at his back. He was littered in a variety of purple, yellow and slightly green marks on the whole of his left flank. It looked like a minor crush injury, not something a pampered actor gets after a day of filming infront of tens of people including an onset medic and health and safety risk assessor.

“What?” Tom asked before turning to the mirror and looking back over his shoulder to see the bruises for himself. He hadn’t expected the ache to look that bad. “oh - I - er… Today the scene, I get smashed to the floor by someone and I kept doing it wrong so we had to do it lots I guess.” He looked away and down at your feet, not being able to meet his girlfriends eyes suddenly. You just nodded, trying to blink back the tears- he had truly been broken by this role both physically and now mentally- he hadn’t even put a stop to the constant and clearly severe pain.

“Put your stuff on” your voice was muted, as you waited for Tom to get prepared. He turned around again and then replaced his trousers and quickly pulled a top on to hide the marks, suddenly embarrassed. In the silence the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor, then of him sitting on the bed again- throwing his legs over so now he mirrored your position - the sounds were pretty defeaning.

“I love you so much….” Barely whispering, you suddenly ripped the duvet out from under you both holding it over you as you swung a leg over Tom so you straddled him, slightly leaning over him and letting the blanket rest on top of your back.In your position you looked down in an almost scary way to his warm brown eyes. Tom swore you were literally reading his thoughts, your intense gaze absolutely crumbling any walls he thought he’d be able to hold up. Pressing a gentle peck to his lips you then whispered onto his lips, letting him feel your words as well as hear them. “ …So that’s why we are going to sleep right now and you can worry about all of that tomorrow”

“Y/n I-“

“Your safe with me.” You were not standing for his nexuses and arguments, as you slid down his body - ending with your head resting on his chest, you legs tangled with his. Once you’re properly rested you’ll learn them ten times faster than what you can now… Before you get ill I am telling you to take a break. I’m not going to let you not. So relax and-….Tom?” Ending with a whisper, you delicately lifted your head off his slowly rising chest to see your broken boyfriend already asleep; lips parted as soft snores crept through the silence. In reality as soon as you’d said that he was safe the exhaustion had completely over taken him. Desperately needing to recharge his batteries, no matter how much he had wanted to stay up and work late it could never really happen - at this point physically impossible.

“Sleep well Tom” she smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek with a sad smile.

///////////////////////////////////////////

The next day rolled around all too quickly, but the morning was much better than any of the past couple of months because you were together. Tom, having had a solid 7 hours of sleep compared to his normal 5, was for once ready for the day. He’d gone through the script with a certain someones help in record time, and now the three were just pulling up at the set.

“You’ve been awful quiet this car ride…” you grinned as she clasped Tom’s hand across the empty seat, making Harry turn around and give you a warning glance. Oops. In a moment where Tom went to the loo at breakfast, Harry had fully disclosed everything that had happened on set yesterday- especially the burst of anger. So naturally, Tom was feeling nervous and scared to face everyone.

“It will be fine I promise… and if not tell them I’m your personal body guard- no one will be rude to you if me and Harry are ready to attack” Tom let out a breathy nervous laugh, only then meeting your eyes.

“ A fly wouldn’t be threatened by you two. Harry would just take a photo while you’d check their pulse or something”

“Errrm” Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he contorted round from the front seat so Tom could see his disapproving look, meanwhile Tom was dodging your affectionate fake-slaps.

“Children we’re here” Sian sighed as she brought the car to a steady halt “and if you could get through the day without killing each other I’d appreciate it, otherwise I’m out of the job”

“Not promising anything when I’ve got these pair to deal with” Tom grinned as he opened the car door, before anyone else could retaliate.You laughed before quickly following suit, joining Tom at the front of the car and interlocking your fingers with Tom’s. Hesitating for a moment Harry took a second before unplugging and leaning for the door handle.

“You see what I mean?” Turning his head to look at Sian “It’s sickening how happy they are.”

“Yeh but your glad about it don’t lie” she grinned, before practically shooing the poor boy out her car.

“But dont tell them!” Shouting in reply, as the car was already pulling out.

Tom’s body seemed to tense more the closer you walked to the crew tent, you could feel the way he squeezed his shoulders back and his jaw tensed and untensed. There was little you could do apart from squeezing his hand that little bit tighter - further reiterating the fact you would always always be in his corner. Perhaps the most telling about Tom’s own character was how truly guilty he felt for the way he was with the crew. Normally, he was one of the most down to earth actors around - no trace of an ego or superiority complex. It didn’t matter if you were a cleaner or head of a multimillion dollar studio, Tom would pay both the same amount of respect. He always out that completely down to his upbringing and mum and dad, but even that was being humble. He was just a good person to the core, no one saw that more than you either. It’s part of love, you see the good and the bad parts of a person and promise to unashamedly love them all.

Just before you both had made it into the main tent, Tom was pulled away. “Oh Tom we wanted to talk to you about yesterday!” The familiar voice of Joe Russo called, as he and Anthony ran up to Tom from his left, giving a little nod of greeting to the actor, before falling in step with him.

“Morning, I-uh I wanted to apologise actually-“Tom was cut off while you hung back off to his right, not wanting to intrude on this conversation.

“No we should. The team were all being slow yesterday, and they were making some hard scenes harder on you. We really appreciate what you are putting yourself through for the sake of the film.”

“But still I acted like a brat and I’m sorry”

“Tom” Anthony spoke up for the first time. He was a man of limited words- but whenever he spoke everyone listened. “ You are one of the best, most-dedicated actors we’ve ever worked with. We’re all overtired, run down and ready for the holidays. You’re missing your family too. It’s already forgotten… So let’s just get on with the movie?” Tom smiled, pressing his lips together to stop their kindness overtaking his emotions. Tom always felt safe with the Russo’s. They’d dealt with him when he really just was a kid actor - overwhelmed and without a clue what was happening. They’d dealt with hiM adjusting to fame and the much bigger part Marvel seemed to want him to play in the future. They trusted him with this, most incredibly complex and also personal film for them. So when they spoke and they said it didn’t matter, Tom was much more likely to agree. Then proceeded the bro-hugs, as the men all showed they were good with each other.

“Well lets make a motherfucking movie!” Tom exclaimed once they broke the hug and the brothers laughed at him. “Oh where-d….” He muttered as he looked round before meeting your eyes, still standing rather awkwardly a couple of meters behind them. “ Joe, Anthony you remember Y/n?” Nodding and smiling the brothers beckoned you over; both greeting you with a warm handshake.

“Good to see you again!” You grinned and the directors responded nodding.

“We didn’t know you were coming! I would’ve made a list of all my doctor question for you.” Joe winked, knowing your pet-peeve was people asking you all their gory body questions as soon as they found out she was a doctor. You didn’t need to know about you dentists acid reflux issue, you didn’t need to know about your granny’s friend’s constipation, and you really really didn’t need to know about an old friends erectile dysfunction.

“Ha ha ha “ You rolled your eyes sarcastically “ and no it was a bit of a spontaneous trip, I just landed last night.” Throughout the whole of the exchange Anthony had taken an aloof stance, just observing you and Tom. Observing the bright smile Tom gave you, even when you were simply making small talk. The way he looked so much healthier, well rested and just happy, in the space of a single evening.

“I’m glad you’re here” Anthony basically interrupted the conversation, addressing you then immediately turning on his heel towards the set.

“Uhh right- get to make up we’ll call a cast meeting in a bit” Joe stammered, giving his brother a funny look before addressing Tom “ and we’ll have to have a proper catch up later.” You nodded in response, as Joe turned and did a half jog to catch up with his brother.

“That was weird!?” You frowned as you looked up at Tom. He explained the encounter in rather simplistic terms.

“That was Anthony.”

The morning was spent with Tom doing what he does best in front of the camera. They were shooting a larger scene for the army section of the movie, with at least 100 actual soldiers as extras, all geared up in full camo outfits. It was impressive, but also gave you a chance to meet Ciara - you’d been dying to meet her since Tom told you what a laugh she was. Fair to say you weren’t disappointed at all, you guys hitting it off instantly and you going as far as giving Ciara some embarrassing Tom stories that she could wind him up with in the future. Of course though, the main attraction was seeing Tom act first hand. Every time it astounded you, even though you knew that face so completely, in all his movies he fully had you believing he was someone else. It was mesmerising and you couldn’t be any prouder.

“You’re amazing! I seriously forgot how good you are!” You ran over as Joe Russo called cut to the end of the morning shoot.

“Well er thanks I guess” Tom furrowed his eyebrows as you wrapped him in a hug. He’d just canned a pretty hard scene and everyone was more than ready for a lunch break. You’s been watching from behind the cameras with Harry the whole time, after Tom gave you permission to sit in his special set chair.

“Seriously I’m very…. “ Her speech broken with an impressive yawn “….very proud of you.” In thanks Tom gave you a kiss first to your nose and then lips.

“I take it someones not adapting to jet lag?” He chuckled as he pulled away and cupped your face in his hands.

“Which I’m totally ashamed about considering I work night shifts… my body clocks supposed to be better than this” Angrily, you vented, frustrated at your own body when all you wanted to do was stays within reaching distance of Tom. Even if Tom had had the best sleep of this whole shoot last night, you’d been to over excited and enthralled just absorbing every little thing about him that you’d missed so much that you’d been wide awake the majority of the night. If you blamed you fatigue on jet lag alone, it would be an impressive lie.

“Go take a nap in my trailer… Harry can you take her?”

“Yes master” Harry bowed down and wobbled his head sarcastically, making you giggle.

“At least this way you get a break from him” You grinned to Tom’s brother, which Harry could only agree with. Giving Tom a parting kiss , you followed Harry away from set. It was at this point that Anthony excused himself from the monitors reviewing the footage, and approached Tom.

“Kid… that was great that scene.”

“Thanks mate, means a lot” Getting his directors approval forever reassured Tom, letting him relax his shoulders a bit as he nodded gratefully to Anthony.

“Well it’s just truth… so your girlfriend, Y/n right?”

“Yeh that’s her” Tom nodded, suddenly a little concerned as to where Anthony was going with this. You had met the Russo’s a number of times, and it never before seemed as though Anthony had an issue with you- at least to Tom’s knowledge.

“Right well um… you know how I don’t really get involved in all this stuff…” Tom nodded, folding his arms apprehensively. “But I just thought I should say that she’s really good for you.” Tom silently breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Anthony to get to the point. “Joe told me you had a rough patch at the beginning of the year so… I don’t know our industry is hard. And harder for you and her in the spotlight… Just seeing you with her today…Don’t be afraid to take the next steps with her…Don’t let her get away.” Tom was stunned to say the least. Anthony is the last person he had ever expected to get relationship advice from.

“I um yeh… I don’t know I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean we’ve been together for 2 and a bit years, well including the break… she means the world to me-“

“Well don’t waste it”

And that was the end of the conversation. Anthony turned to his trailer to get lunch and Tom just stood, replaying the conversation in his head. Weird to say the least.

But it did get the cogs turning. It did get Tom really seriously considering his future. Or rather considering your future together.

And that was for certain. It was you and him, always.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tomholland #Harry Holland #tom holland x y/n

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