#but never ever ask me to deliver a message
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Wonwoo suddenly shares his location with you.
He was in the middle of a park.
He texts something about going on a date. An off handed comment about how he’s having a good time.
He’s in the middle of tour. . . . And he’s on a date?
You think, ’have I not suffered enough? not only did I lose you, now I have i watch you fall for another?’
He tells you about the long walk he just took through the park.
He says, “the trail was longer than expected,”
You reply, “.”
And you turn your read receipts off. Having had them on for him so long ago.
Desperately, you start looking for any evidence he’s on an actual date.
Turns out, it’s a date w his members. A simple text from hoshi confirms it. He answers your sneaky text without any hesitation and he unsuspectingly tells you the park him and his members are at is very nice.
The relief that floods your body is embarrassing, to say the least.
Then you think, ’is Wonwoo trying to make you jealous? Couldn’t possibly be, right? What could he possibly gain from lying to you?’
He keeps telling you about the park.
You text, “wonwoo.” And “stop.”
Suddenly, “why did you like me?”
His true thoughts linger in the air. ‘What was so special about him?’
Unspoken and doubtful.
You ignore it at first. It’s been months. You’re over him. You’ve spent the better half of the past year struggling with your feelings. With your loss. Your best friend, no longer able to call him that. You lost Wonwoo.
And you have this thought and text it.
“doesn’t matter. doesn’t change what happened,”
Wonwoo immediately reads it and that’s that.
But his text racks your brain. You think. And eventually, hours later—you reply.
“You’re kind. It’s what got me first. It was the way you remembered the little things—my lunch orders, important dates, my favorite bands.”
Your kindness went beyond words. I was always grateful to see you. You made my day without knowing it. I was comforted by the mere thought of you. You, who treated others so sweetly. You, who spoke softly, but never hesitated to speak your truth. You were confident, but always humble. You, who I saw in your suffering and you let me in,”
Made my heart constrict in my chest to the point it started hurting,”
Your eyes twinkled, even if you didn’t know it,”
The way you looked at me, I was able to convince myself you felt the same. Those nights we spent under the stars, tracing constellations with our fingers, laying next to each other, your phone playing whatever song you knew I was obsessed with at that time. Your smile permanently etched into my mind. You emitted more warmth than any blanket ever could provide. Your happiness was my own,”
And having you? Being by your side? Even if it was just at the ends of my day?”
God, it was more than I could ever ask for”
I knew you didn’t feel the same way. You were starting to drift from me. But, I knew I couldn’t keep It within myself for any longer. I had to tell you the truth. I had to come clean,”
Wonwoo, I loved you. More than I could ever express with my words. More than you or anyone could ever imagine. I didn’t care that you always saw me as a second priority, that you never put me first,”
I was happy to have you in any way I could. That’s how I knew I would never recover from this unrequited love. Recognizing that, and saying it aloud, nearly killed me. The pain in my chest whenever I saw you started to spread to the rest of my body,”
My mind. It racked for an explanation and it accepted excuse after excuse. It told me lies,”
Wonwoo I loved you and even if that hurt me, especially so, I was so terrified of losing you that I pushed that love deep within me. Hidden. Always lurking,”
But the thing about love is it can never be hidden for very long,”
You pause. He’s reading text after text. Your messages are full of typos and rushed commas. Each bubble changes from delivered to read. You don’t care. You need to say this now or you’re afraid you never will.
“The thought of having you for the rest of my life lingered in me. I wanted to see your glowing. I wanted your light in my life. I wanted every side of you. You were more than a love to me. You were you, and that’s why I loved you,”
And he leaves you with those thoughts and never replies back.
Pain. It’s all you feel. Disappointment. Embarrassment. Hate. You hate him. You hate him for bringing these feelings up after so long. If you had just talked it out then, would things have been different?
You fall asleep dreaming about the stars that night.
I keep having dreams where Wonwoo and I are exes. Wrote this after waking up from another dream. Proofread on the train. Is it possible to hurt from something you never had? I’m not sure. But the ache that lingers in my chest after I wake up? Yeah, I’d believe it.
#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#seventeen#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#wonu#wonu x reader#seventeen blurb#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#angst#bitter exes#kpop#kpop x reader#svt#svt x reader#svt x you#no y/n
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the salty af munday meme / Accepting!
@electricea sent a letter: ☯ Have you ever tried to bring peace to a situation?
I have and I am NEVER going to try again. I remember being a young teen on DeviantArt and these two people I use to role play with a lot was really tight. Hell, they interacted with each other more than I did with either of them. I don't really remember every little detail when they begun hating each other, especially since both side had their own versions of how it started. I just remember it summing down to something stupid like shipping. Both of them kept trying to pull me to their side and try to take my opinion of situation as a way to "clap back" the other in these silly public posts.
Which made me look bad as if I am a backstabber too, because you're taking bits of a whole private conversation we had to fit into you're own narrative. As well as making it sound worst than it actually was, so I am over here sent to talk to another person to ask "Well, so and so wanted to know why you did this and this. Cause that made them upset and they wanted me to ask cause we're cool." I am being used as a messenger and middleman for conversations cause neither wanna talk to the other. So, when anyone came at me with some noise I would just be honest and say I don't know what the fuck is going on myself, but don't come at me as if I am stirring up shit or is a bad friend.
It got to a point where I told both them to leave me the hell alone and figure this out yourselves, actually talk this out among eachother. Leave me out and alone, I stopped talking to both afterward.
Look people can vent to me, ask for advice, and I'll be honest of my thoughts. However, I will never fight your battles or even try to make peace if I am not involved. If you got a issue with someone else, it's on you. Talk to me, but never use me out of context for you're own benefit.
#electricea#opening letters; answered#i am beyond that silly shit#talk for yourself to someone else#if you wanna vent that's fine or ask what you think you should do i'll try my best to help#but never ever ask me to deliver a message
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i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).
shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.
i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.
when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.
anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.
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Hey All,
I've been away for some time, as we've been working really hard on something quite exciting:
let me present to you the world's first ever global ocean drainage basin map that shows all permanent and temporary water flows on the planet.
This is quite big news, as far as I know this has never been done before. There are hundreds of hours of work in it (with the data + manual work as well) and it's quite a relief that they are all finished now.
But what is an ocean drainage basin map, I hear most of you asking? A couple of years ago I tried to find a map that shows which ocean does each of the world's rivers end up in. I was a bit surprised to see there is no map like that, so I just decided I'll make it myself - as usual :) Well, after realizing all the technical difficulties, I wasn't so surprised any more that it didn't exist. So yeah, it was quite a challenge but I am very happy with the result.
In addition to the global map I've created a set of 43 maps for different countries, states and continents, four versions for each: maps with white and black background, and a version for both with coloured oceans (aka polygons). Here's the global map with polygons:
I know from experience that maps can be great conversation starters, and I aim to make maps that are visually striking and can effectively deliver a message. With these ocean drainage basin maps the most important part was to make them easily understandable, so after you have seen one, the others all become effortless to interpret as well. Let me know how I did, I really appreciate any and all kinds of feedback.
Here are a few more from the set, I hope you too learn something new from them. I certainly did, and I am a geographer.
The greatest surprise with Europe is that its biggest river is all grey, as the Volga flows into the Caspian sea, therefore its basin counts as endorheic.
An endorheic basin is one which never reaches the ocean, mostly because it dries out in desert areas or ends up in lakes with no outflow. The biggest endorheic basin is the Caspian’s, but the area of the Great Basin in the US is also a good example of endorheic basins.
I love how the green of the Atlantic Ocean tangles together in the middle.
No, the dividing line is not at Cape Town, unfortunately.
I know these two colours weren’t the best choice for colourblind people and I sincerely apologize for that. I’ve been planning to make colourblind-friendly versions of my maps for ages now – still not sure when I get there, but I want you to know that it’s just moved up on my todo-list. A lot further up.
Minnesota is quite crazy with all that blue, right? Some other US states that are equally mind-blowing: North Dakota, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming. You can check them all out here.
Yes, most of the Peruvian waters drain into the Atlantic Ocean. Here are the maps of Peru, if you want to take a closer look.
Asia is amazingly colourful with lots of endorheic basins in the middle areas: deserts, the Himalayas and the Caspian sea are to blame. Also note how the Indonesian islands of Java and Sumatra are divided.
I mentioned earlier that I also made white versions of all maps. Here’s Australia with its vast deserts. If you're wondering about the weird lines in the middle: that’s the Simpson desert with its famous parallel sand dunes.
North America with white background and colourful oceans looks pretty neat, I think.
Finally, I made the drainage basin maps of the individual oceans: The Atlantic, the Arctic, the Indian and the Pacific. The Arctic is my favourite one.
I really hope you like my new maps, and that they will become as popular as my river basin maps. Those have already helped dozens of environmental NGOs to illustrate their important messages all around the world. It would be nice if these maps too could find their purpose.
#maps reimagined#geography#cartography#maps#my art#rivers of the world#ocean drainage basins#ocean maps#river maps
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earth do you have any spare alhaitham thoughts 🥺 thinking ab him a little extra hard tonight 😵
nothing but fluff, reader and al-haitham are engaged, so much banter.
"What do you think about inviting Nahida to our wedding?"
Al-Haitham looks at you incredulously, blinking slowly to register your question. You know a lengthy discussion is imminent when he uncrosses his leg, a habit of his whenever he needs to prepare for a conversation that requires most of his attention.
"You don't mean Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you?" He asks and you nod, as if it is typical to invite a god to one's wedding. "Dear, do you understand what you are asking right now?"
"I do," you sit down beside him, Zaytun peach in one hand and a small knife in the other, cutting up slices that you feed him.
"Then do you realise how ludicrous your question is?"
"I think you are overcomplicating it."
His book snaps shut. "Am I? Or is it appropriate because you just suggested inviting an archon to our very ordinary wedding?"
"You still think you're ordinary after overthrowing a corrupt government and being promoted by said archon?"
"You're crazy," Al-Haitham murmurs, shaking his head with an affectionate smile, one that he always likes to conceal by pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You poke his side gently. "Then we are cut from the same cloth."
"That does not diminish your madness."
Still, you persist. "Well, you haven't said anything in response to my suggestion."
"I called you crazy."
"You haven't said anything I want to hear."
Once again, he sighs, but the noise is too airy to hold any true malice. "Even if I reject your idea, you would personally go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana and deliver the invite yourself."
Instead of answering, you merely feed him another slice of the Zaytun peach, smile growing more and more mischievous.
There is a reason Al-Haitham wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The bouts of delightful juvenility paints endless blotches of colour on his plain canvas, carving a certain feeling of warmth and admiration in his chest that no one else has managed to recreate.
No one compares to you, and he's certain no one ever will because even after all these years of knowing and loving you, every moment he spends with you is as priceless as divine knowledge. Even when you ask ridiculous questions that perplex him greatly.
"How do you even deliver messages to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?" You wonder.
A kiss to your temple halts your thinking. "Let's find out another time. How did this idea of inviting Nahida spring about?"
You shrug. "I was merely thinking back. She's always been so thoughtful and kind to her subjects, even when the Akademiya hid her from us. Then the idea of inviting her made itself quite at home."
"I see," he hums. "Ever so thoughtful."
"Maybe it's a good omen for our partnership to invite an archon. She won't have to bring a present, her presence alone is enough."
Al-Haitham huffs. "My faith in our relationship exceeds that of a good omen, but I agree."
"Aww, you love me that much?"
"Do you still doubt me?"
"Still?" You parrot. "Darling, I've never doubted you."
"I'd like to contest that. Remember when you were vehemently against me resigning as the Acting Grand Sage?"
You feed him another slice. "It gave me bragging rights! Who else could claim that their hot boyfriend-now-fiancé was the Grand Sage?"
"So you prefer when I'm away at the Akademiya working tirelessly from dawn to dusk?"
"Well, no," you set the knife and pit of the peach down before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing yourself close to him. "I prefer having you all to myself."
Al-Haitham huffs triumphantly and you stay pressed close to him for a while, watching as he returns to his novel. He flips back to his exact page despite the lack of a bookmark.
"I'll be sure to send the invite to Nahida tomorrow."
"Alright."
Two days later, you wake to a message written in beautifully precise handwriting on Al-Haitham's blackboard.
'Can Wanderer be invited too? - Nahida'
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#thank u for ur ask alexis ^-^#alhaitham x reader#al-haitham x reader#al haitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙feels like | PG10˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: pierre gasly x leclerc!singer!reader (she/her) x kika gomes
genre: social media au, polyamory
warnings: polyamory
summary: in which you meet the loves of ur life in the form of ur brother's best friend and his girlfriend
a/n: u've all been begging for this pairing HAHAH im finally delivering 🙏
request!!!: charles little sister and she doesn't really go to his races that often because she's a singer but she finally does and she hangs with kika & gets a crush on her & meets pierre & develops feelings for him too so then they finally get together and try to drop subtle hints but everyone just thinks they r good friends
my masterlist
fc: gracie abrams
instagram ->
ynupdates
liked by arthur_leclerc, user41, and others
ynupdates y/n seen today outside the airport in florence, italy !!
tagged: yourusername
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user1 hi arthur in the likes lol
user2 her biggest fan
user3 is she going to imola????
user4 omg 👀
user5 Y/N AT A RACE??!!
user6 omg i hope she's finally coming to a race we barely ever see her there
user7 i miss her
user8 welcome back to f1 y/n 😻
user9 why does she never go to races omgg
user10 she goes to most big ones imo but she's busy with her own career
user11 y/n and charles content i beg
user12 nah y/n and the other drivers content plsss 🙏
yourusername posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
user13 awwwwww omg
user14 so cute
charles_leclerc hanging out with my girlfriend before you even see me? okay!
yourusername get over it
user15 are u coming to imola 🙈
user16 see u at the race y/n 👀
alexandrasaintmleux my fav leclerc 😘
liked by yourusername
user17 imola imola imola
twitter ->
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by francisca.cgomes, arthur_leclerc, and others
user18 omggg is that kika
user19 kikayn the duo i didnt know i needed
charles_leclerc y/n please
yourusername im coming im coming
user20 this duo actually makes so much sense
user21 i love women
user22 need her to meet pierre i just know they'd get along they all got the same vibes
user23 im gay
twitter ->
instagram ->
f1wagupdates
liked by user18, user31, user4, and others
f1wagupdates pierre gasly and girlfriend kika gomes have been seen multiple times over the past few weeks with ‘i miss you, im sorry’ singer & sister of charles leclerc, y/n leclerc. they appear to have become good friends since their alleged first meeting in imola, but sources report some suggestive interactions including all three of them.
tagged: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yourusername
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user26 suggestive interactions...????
user27 omg obsessed with this trio lol
user28 the friendship we never knew we needed 😻
user29 what suggestive interactions lol it's TOO VAGUE!!! give us more
user30 i bet charles loves this 😂
user31 the first piccccc omg y/n and kika cuddling and pierre is just there
user32 y/n and kika tgthr is just so cunty
user33 someone ask charles what he thinks 😂
francisca.cgomes
liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and others
francisca.cgomes 🌷 lil dump
tagged: pierregasly, yourusername
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user34 OMG hellooo y/n
user35 the last pic hahah so cuntyyy
user36 ugh OBSESSED with this trio
user37 i wish i was them
landonorris ugh set me up with y/n please kika
francisca.cgomes now why the hell would i do that
pierregasly not happening, sorry lando
landonorris ??? wtf why not
francisca.cgomes she's OURS
yourusername 😂😂
user38 sus
user39 ???? what is going awnnn
user40 SUSSSSSS
yourusername awww pierre in his lil suit 👔
pierregasly awww y/n with her lil lollypop 🍭
francisca.cgomes 🙄
user41 what is even happening lol
yourusername posted a story
liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and others
charles_leclerc y/n
yourusername hi charlie
charles_leclerc maman misses you
yourusername is that code for u & arthur miss me 🤨
charles_leclerc perhaps...
yourusername lol i'll come visit home soon
francisca.cgomes leak it to me
yourusername 🤫 all in good time!
pierregasly about me?
yourusername in ur dreams
pierregasly 👀
user42 OMG
user43 new music new music new music
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername 📍 monaco
liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and others
yourusername & i would do whatever u wanted
tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly
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user44 urmmm is that lyrics
user45 yea omg look at the notebook she's holding up
user46 this is what it feels like????
user47 drop the song
user48 love this friendship
francisca.cgomes love you gorgeous
yourusername love you sm
charles_leclerc ❤️
liked by yourusername
user49 ???
pierregasly met you at the right time
yourusername 👀
user50 ok what's going on
user51 ????
user52 wot
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and others
yourusername jus dropped my new song ‘feels like’. the girls that get it, get it... thank u for ur unwavering support always 🫶
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user53 who else here is a girl that (finally) gets it
liked by yourusername
user54 get what😭😭😭
user55 SHE'S DATING THEM
user56 the hard hard launch i never knew i needed
charles_leclerc ❤️
yourusername love you
arthur_leclerc ❤️
yourusername ❤️ my biggest fan
arthur_leclerc always
user57 oh i love them sm
user58 i would do whatever you wanted we dont have to leave the apartment 😭
user59 MET YOU AT THE RIGHT TIME‼️
francisca.cgomes mon cœur 💓
yourusername oh i love you
francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
user60 best girls omg
pierregasly world's sexiest leclerc!
yourusername i hold this title loudly & proudly
charles_leclerc 🙄
user61 😂 pierre is so real for this
user62 oh the song is soso beautiful
pierregasly
liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and others
pierregasly livin in a movie i've watched and...
tagged: yourusername, francisca.cgomes
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user63 FUNNY CAUSE I COULDNT HAVE CALLED IT!!???
user64 omggg
user65 this is a true love story frrr
user66 AHHHH I LOVE THEM SO BAD
charles_leclerc photo creds for the last pic!!
pierregasly ofc charles 😘
charles_leclerc dont flirt with me too
yourusername 😂😂 have a day off!
arthur_leclerc ily guys
francisca.cgomes oh hello fav leclerc brother
arthur_leclerc 😀
yourusername ily art
charles_leclerc 🙄
yourusername i met u both at the right time 😭
francisca.cgomes thank u imola paddock 🤩🤩🤩
pierregasly our place 🙏🙏🙏🙏
user67 omg.. OBSESSED!!!
THE END 🥹🩷
#f1 smau#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x reader#smau#pierre gasly#pg10#f1 poly#f1 blurb#f1 x you#f1 polyamory#polyamory#poly#driver x reader x wag#pierre gasly smau#pierre gasly social media au#pierre gasly fluff#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly fanfic#pg10 x yn#pg10 smau#pg10 fanfic#pg10 x reader#pg10 imagine#kika gomes#francisca cerqueira gomes#maddie's smau
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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
#felix x reader#skz x reader#lee felix x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#felix imagines#lee felix imagines#felix fluff#lee felix fluff#k-labels#lee felix#stray kids#skz imagines#felix scenarios#lee felix scenarios#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids scenarios#*writing#*minific#this was very fun to write ehe my inner gamer came alive#oh to be able to queue up with hot housemate lix :(
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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ
ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ
📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!
huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)
cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss
here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!
it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.
this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).
the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.
you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.
you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.
they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“
“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”
charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”
you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”
you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.
you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.
you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.
max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.
you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.
you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.
your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.
you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.
now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.
“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.
the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.
your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.
charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.
the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.
eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.
his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.
your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.
thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.
the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.
you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.
you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.
the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.
you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.
even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.
the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.
you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.
but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.
your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.
you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.
after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.
fuck.
a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”
max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.
but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.
charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”
max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”
the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.
max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.
max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”
your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.
max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”
you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.
the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”
you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“
charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”
you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”
you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”
max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.
“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”
“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”
charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.
you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”
charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”
a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.
“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.
a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”
max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.
charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.
“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”
the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.
you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”
“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”
max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.
max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”
“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.
you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”
max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.
“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”
charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“
“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”
you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.
“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“
“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”
you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.
“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”
you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”
max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.
max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.
“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”
you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.
your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”
“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.
“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.
he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”
you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”
he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—
“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.
max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”
charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”
you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”
charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”
“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.
“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”
“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”
you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.
you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.
“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”
“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”
“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”
“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.
you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.
“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”
charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”
“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”
“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”
“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”
“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“
what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.
max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.
you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“
and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”
they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.
“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.
shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”
max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”
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𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (2)
mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part one here
Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants. tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, head f receiving, p in v unprotected, breeding kink, cum eating & fingering for like a sentence. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ authors note 𑁯 ✿ you asked, and i delivered. PART TWO IS HERE YALL. i hope I didn't let you down :( 5.52k words of pure wrongness, but hey, it's joel, so it's okay (haha, not). not proofread, so if you see any errors, just close your eyes pls thank you.
The weight of that night lingered in every breath you took. The memory of Joel's touch, his hands tracing every inch of your body, had seared itself into your skin, refusing to fade. It wasn't just the physicalㅡ it was the way his voice had trembled when he whispered your name. The way he'd held you like you were something sacred something he couldn't afford to lose. But you both knew that after last night, everything had changed. There was no going back
The secret you now carried inside you was heavier, pulling you further into an abyss you couldn't climb out of. And the worst part? You wanted more. Now that, you had tasted what it felt like to have him, the craving for him was worse than ever. You were addicted. The first morning without him felt empty wrong. You should have been able to bury the night, to bury the guilt, but instead, it gnawed at you, weaving into the longing that wrapped itself around your chest like a vice. You scrolled through your phone again, reading the last text he had sent.
• miss you, baby. I can't stop thinking about you. Wish it was you here with me.
your heart twisted in your chest as you read it again, your fingers hovering over the screen, aching to respond. He was gone. He had left early that morning with your mother, whisked away on a honeymoon that was supposed to be filled with love and joy: A honeymoon that, in a cruel twist of fate, was meant to celebrate his new life with her.
But here he was, texting you and you couldn't help but answer the pull that tied you to him. You could practically hear his voice when you read his words, feel the roughness of his hand brushing against your skin in the way your body still hummed with
the memory of him, and your cunt still felt him deep inside of you. Your fingers shook as you typed your response:
• I miss you too.
You stared at the words, hating yourself for them, but unable to stop. You hit send before you could think twice. A sick sort of thrill coursed through you as you imagined him reading it, imagined him lying next to your mother, his phone lighting up with your message, pulling him back to you even from miles away.
You had woken up in his arms, tangled in the sheets, the air between you still thundering with the afterglow of the forbidden but impossibly sweet. You had watched him get dressed in silence, his eyes lingering or you with a mixture of longing and regret before he had leaned down, kissed you hard, and whispered, "This changes everything." that it had. You hadn't stopped thinking about him a second since. But the worst part was, neither had he. Another message came through, lighting up your phone, pulling you from your thoughts.
• I need you. Being here with her feels wrong, baby. don't know how I'm gonna survive his week without touching you. ❤️
your breath caught in your throat as yot read it, heat blooming low in your belly. He missed you. He wanted you. Even while he was supposed to be with her, on their honeymoon, he was thinking about you.
You hated the way it thrilled you, how the hought of him being with your mother didn't make you sick with jealousy, but instead only intensified the twisted longing that had wrapped itself around your heart. You knew it was wrong, god, it was so wrong, but now that you'd had him, you couldn't stop wanting more. You typed back, your fingers moving quickly, not giving yourself a chance to reconsider.
• need you, joel, I dunno know how to do this.
the truth of those words settled over you. you didn't know how to do this. how to navigate this mess of secrets and lies, of immense guilt. All you knew was that the need for him hadn't gone away: it had only grown stronger. As you waited for his response, you lay back in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you mind replaying every moment of the night before. Your phone buzzed again.
• ill find a way for us to be together.
it was insane. It was dangerous. But he means it. And so did you. this impossibly tangled knot that you couldn't unravel, no matter how hard you tried. And part of you didn't want to. You wanted him. Still. More now than ever.
Your phone vibrated once more
•When I get back, I need to see you. Alone We'll figure this out, I promise.
You were already too far gone
Joel’s name lit up your phone screen, the buzzing pulling you from your thoughts. It was a shock, seeing him call. You hesitated for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen, before finally answering. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice shaking slightly. “Hi, baby.." Joel’s voice came through low and rough, like gravel under your feet. There was a pause before he spoke again, the silence thick. “I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to hear your voice.”
Your heart plummeted at his words. The sound of his voice alone sent a shiver through you, bringing back everything from the night before—the touch of his hands, the way he’d kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, the feeling of him filling you up. You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whine. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confessed. There was a soft sound from him, almost like a groan, the tension in his voice unmistakable. “I’ve been thinking about you too, baby. I can’t stop. You under me like that, full of my cockㅡ it’s all I can think about. I keep replaying it. I miss you so much.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Hearing him say it made it all so real, the intensity of it, the wrongness, and yet how much you both wanted it anyway. You squeezed your eyes shut, the memory of his hands on you still fresh, your skin tingling. “It’s been so hard," you whispered. “ I hate that you’re there with her...” The words slipped your lips before you could process them. He exhaled deeply, like he was struggling to hold himself back. “I know,” he muttered, his voice tight. “I’m trying to be here, I really am, but all I can think about is you. You’re all I want. I wish I was with you right now, not here.”
What he was saying hit you hard. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, with your mother. But here he was, calling you, telling you how much he missed you, how much he wanted to touch you, hear you moan his name again. It was twisted, but you couldn’t deny the way it made you feel—desired, important, needed. “Joel...” You didn’t even know what you were asking for. You just wanted to hear him say more, to fill the aching silence between you. “I can’t stand being away from you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Being here with her… it’s all wrong. 'm thinkin' about you the whole time. I want to be with you, not hidin' this.” The admission made your heart race, your body responding to the urgency in his words. You sat up on your bed, the phone pressed tight against your ear, needing to hear more.
“I need you,” you whispered, not caring anymore about what it meant. “I don’t know how to stop wanting you, Joel. I made everything worse. I don’t know what to do.” Joel’s voice came through soft but strained. “I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want this to end. I need you too, baby. I’ve needed you for so long, and now that I’ve had you…” He trailed off, breathing heavy on the other end of the line. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About us. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this week without you.”
Your heart ached hearing him say it. You imagined him there, lying next to your mother, feeling the same torment that was tearing you apart. The thought should have made you feel worse, but all it did was make you crave him more. “When you get back...” you began, your voice unsteady. “What’s going to happen?” There was a pause, tension .” I don't know, little girl. But I need my hands on you again, feel you around me, kiss yaㅡ we'll figure it out."
Before you could respond, you heard a faint sound in the background—your mother’s voice, calling for him. Your stomach twisted, the weight of everything crashing down on you. You felt like throwing up. He was still with her, still living this life he didn’t want, while you waited, caught in the middle of it all. “I have to go,” Joel said quickly, his voice urgent. “But I’ll call you again. I miss you, baby. We’ll figure this out.”
And then the line went dead.
You stared at the phone in your hand, the silence deafening. Your mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another, but all you could think about was him—how much you still wanted him, even knowing how wrong it was. The pull between you was too strong, and you didn’t know how to stop. his last words were ringing in your ears—“We’ll figure this out.” But would you? Could you?
Your hand shook as you placed the phone down, the weight of everything suddenly pressing down on you with crushing force. The room felt colder, emptier, like all the air had been sucked out the moment his voice disappeared from the other end of the line. You had been holding it together, balancing the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, but now, in the quiet of your room, the dam finally broke. You pressed your palms to your face, feeling the burn of tears already welling in your eyes. You couldn’t stop it. The guilt, the longing, the impossibility of it all—it came crashing down like a wave, and you were powerless against it.
A sob escaped your throat, low and broken, as you curled into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. The tears came hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks in heavy streams. You didn’t even try to hold them back. You wiped at your eyes, but the tears kept falling, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. You hated this—hated how torn you felt. Hated that, despite knowing how wrong it was, you couldn’t stop wanting him. It made everything feel impossible. You wanted him so badly, it ached. But the guilt—it clung to you, wrapped itself around your heart and squeezed, suffocating you with its weight.
The sobs came harder, your body trembling as you rocked yourself, trying to find some sort of release from the storm inside you. The image of Joel lying beside your mother, on their honeymoon, gnawed at you, twisting the knife deeper into your chest. How had you let it come to this? How had you fallen so far, wanting something you knew you could never truly have?
But even through the disgust, through the pain, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His voice, his touch, the way he had looked at you. It had felt real. Too real. And now it was like you were caught in a spiral, unable to pull yourself out. You cried harder, the sound of your sobs filling the quiet room, your heart breaking under the weight of it all. You pressed your face into your knees, feeling the dampness of your tears soak through the fabric of your jeans.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You had wanted to make your mother happy, to stay away, to be the good daughter. But Joel—he had always been the one thing you couldn’t resist. And now that you had crossed that line, there was no going back.
The phone buzzed softly beside you, the screen lighting up with a new message. You didn’t need to look at it to know who it was. Even now, your heart still reached for him, wanting more of the thing that was tearing you apart. But you couldn’t. Not right now.
So, you sat there, curled up in your bed, crying alone, knowing that despite everything, despite the pain, you were already too deep. And you weren’t sure how to climb out.
the time slipped through your fingers.
The sun had barely set when you heard the familiar sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside. Your heart raced in your chest as you glanced out the window, the bright glow of the headlights cutting through the dusk. Joel’s truck. They were back. He was back. you hated that he had to go away for work so often. even though the honeymoon ended early, he had to leave again for something regarding his job, so this was the first time you saw him in weeks.
The past week had felt endless—long days filled with quiet moments where you found yourself staring at your phone, hoping for a message that never came. After that phone call, everything had felt suspended, like you were teetering on the edge of something you could never go back from. You had tried to keep yourself busy, but every time your mind wandered, it drifted back to him—the sound of his voice, the memory of his touch. The longing, the guilt, the jealousy... it was all there, swirling together in a storm you couldn’t control.
You stood by the window, watching as Joel’s truck pulled into the driveway next to your mother’s. He climbed out, his tall figure silhouetted against the setting sun, a bag slung over his shoulder. You saw him exchange a few words with your mother, who was already standing on the porch, a wide smile on her face as she rushed over to greet him.
You blinked, shaking off the sudden wave of jealousy that washed over you. Stop it, you told yourself. She’s your mother, and he’s with her. You pulled away from the window, trying to steady your breath. But it didn’t help. The pit in your stomach only grew deeper. You couldn’t escape the feeling—the weight of what had happened, the shame that gnawed at you. You had always known this day would come, but that didn’t make it easier to face.
The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. You froze for a second, your heart thudding against your ribs. Your mother called out, “I’ll get it!” But you knew it wasn’t her who he had come for. it was you. so you rushed in front of her, muttering a soft "i got it." When you opened the door, you saw him standing there, looking every bit like the man you had spent the last weeks fantasizing about. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes still shadowed from the exhaustion of travel, but there was something else—something hungry.
He was wearing a simple flannel, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, calloused forearms. He looked worn, but somehow more real than before. More him. You could feel your nipples harden at his sight. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low.
You nodded, feeling the tension coil tighter between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything—just stood there, caught in the gravity of what had happened, what you both knew but weren’t quite ready to speak.
Your mother’s voice interrupted the silence. "Come on in," she called out from the living room. "I was just looking at the pictures from the trip. Joel, why don’t you show her the ones we took from the beach?" Joel glanced at you, his eyes searching your face, but you forced yourself to smile, hiding the turbulence inside. You could already feel it— those pictures, the idea of him sharing his time with her, touching her, laughing and smiling while you were here, waiting, stuck between two worlds.
As you stepped into the living room, Joel followed, and your mother handed him a small photo album that just came in the mail with a beaming smile. "Look at this one, Joel. It’s from the sunset on the beach. I swear, the sky was never so perfect!" she exclaimed before heading to the kitchen to make some drinks for the three of you. Joel opened the album, flipping through the pictures. There they were—Joel and your mother, side by side, arms wrapped around each other, smiling as they stood by the ocean. You could see the joy in your mother’s face—the happiness you had always wanted for her, but it still stung. The sight of them together made your chest tighten with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. were you jealous?
Joel glanced up at you, sensing your discomfort. He cleared his throat, his voice lower than usual, as if he was trying to say something that hadn’t quite formed yet. "I missed you," he said quietly, glancing back at the pictures.
You stared at the photo of Joel and your mother standing on the beach, their hands intertwined. The image of them together, so carefree and happy, only deepened the ache inside you. You clenched your jaw, feeling the jealousy flare up—jealous of the way they had spent those days together. Jealous that he had touched her, laughed with her, shared moments you had longed for. He caught the shift in your mood, the way your eyes narrowed at the pictures. You couldn’t hide it. Joel stepped closer, his tone more serious now. "Hey, don’t look at it like that. babyㅡ"
You blinked, feeling the sting of unshed tears. "Like what?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. "Like I’m..." He paused, his eyes searching yours, his hand hovering, almost as if he wanted to reach out but stopped himself. "Like I was with her, and not with you."
"But you were." You blurt it out.
Your heart hammered in your chest. The way he said it made the jealousy bubble up even more, but there was something else in his voice too—something like regret, like he was just starting to feel what had happened between the two of you. "I just..." You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "I can’t do this, Joel. Seeing you with herㅡ it hurts."
Joel’s face softened, and he took a step closer, his hand finally finding yours. His touch was grounding, reassuring in a way you hadn’t expected. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. "It wasn’t like that. I’m with her, sure. I promised her, and I’m tryin' to be a good man for her, but it’s not the same. You’re different. You’ve got a hold on me, baby. on my soul and heart. I can’t explain it.." You stared at him, your heart a mess of confusion and desire. His words sent a wave of relief through you, but it didn’t erase the pain. You wanted him, but he was still bound to your mother, and that fact ate at you from the inside out.
"I can’t pretend," Joel said, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. "it’s not something I can just ignore. And I won’t let it destroy you or me. It’s just... hard to figure out where to go from here." Your breath caught in your throat. "I don’t want to lose you," you whispered. "But I don’t know how to do this—how to live in this space between what’s right and what feels so damn wrong."
Joel’s expression darkened for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on him as well. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. "I know it’s messy," he murmured. "But it’s not goin' anywhere. I’m not goin' anywhere."
There was no easy answer, no clear path to walk. But in that moment, as you stood in the same room as Joel and your mother, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you knew that whatever happened, you couldn’t walk away from him.
Not now. Not ever.
The early evening sun cast a golden glow across the kitchen as your mom stood in front of the mirror, giving herself one last look before grabbing her purse. She hummed to herself, the excitement of her night out with friends clear in her every movement. She was still glowing from the wedding, from the honeymoon. The happiness on her face felt like a knife in your chest.
"You're sure you'll be alright here?" she asked, her voice light, not really expecting a different answer from you. " I won't be too late." You nodded, trying your best to keep your smile steady. "Yeah, Mom. We'll be fine. You deserve to have fun." Your mom turned to Joel, who was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, his hands tucked into his pockets. "And you.." she teased, stepping closer to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know you're not much of a party guy. Try not to be too boring while l'm gone."
Joel chuckled lightly, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "I'Il behave,"' he promised, though his eyes flicked toward you for just a moment. a brief, loaded glance that made your heart flutter.
Your mom laughed, oblivious to the tension in the room, as she slung her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, don't wait up for me. I'll be back later." She waved, her heels clickingsoftly against the floor as she headed out the door.
The sound of the car starting up, the engine humming, and the tires rolling down the driveway were the last reminders of her presence before the house fell into silence. The quiet between you and Joel was immediate, heavy, as if the very walls of the house knew something had shifted. You stood there, not sure what to do. "Guess it's just us now," Joel said, his voice low, rough around the edges. He knew what he was doing. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Yeah... just us." You could feel his eyes on you, the same gaze that always seemed to see right through to the heart of you, the gaze that made you feel vulnerable exposed.
Joel pushed off from the counter, taking a few slow steps toward you. His movements were deliberate, careful. "You alright, baby?" You looked away, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to pull together some semblance of control, but it was no use. "I thought i could handle it, being here with you..." Joel's jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's been hard for me too," he said quietly, his voice strained. He reached out slowly, his hand brushing your arm, the touch so soft it sent a shiver through you. "This whole thing," he muttered, his eyes dark, intense, "it's not what I thought it would be. Not with you here. It ain't easy for me either."
Your pulse raced as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "I don't know how to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. Joel's hand moved to your waist, his grip gentle but firm. His touch was warm, grounding, but the fire between you was undeniable. "I can't stop." he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i've tried, but..."
He trailed off, his eyes flicking to your lips. You could feel the pull between you growing stronger, the tension wrapping tighter around you, making it harder to breathe. "Joel.." you gasped, not sure what you were asking for. "I know, baby.." you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. "I need you." you finally muster some courage. Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and before you knew it, his lips were on yoursㅡ soft at first, tentative, but when he felt you respond, the kiss deepened. His hand moved up your back, up into your hair, pulling you closer, his touch igniting something inside you that you had been trying to keep buried.
The kiss was everything you had been wanting, everything you had been denying yourself. It was soft but intense, slow but deliberate, and it left you breathless. But even as you kissed him, even as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him, the reality of it all lingered in the back of your mind.
you pull back for a second. "We shouldn't be doing this." Joel's grip tightened on you, his eyes searching yours. "i know, darli'. we shouldn't." He pulled you in again, his lips finding yours, and this time there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was raw, intense, and everything you had been craving. His hands moved over your back, your arms, as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if he had been holding back for too long. You let yourself forgef everything. He picks you up and places you on the cold kitchen counter, your legs wrapping around his middle. "Need'a taste you, sweet thing." You moan as he undresses you from your flimsy shorts, pulling them down and getting on his knees in front of you. "No panties, baby? filthy little thing." Though it wasn't on purpose, you can't help but blush at his reaction. Joel inched closer, rogh beard rubbing against your plush skin, making you jolt. finally, he sticks his tongue out, dragging it through your dripping folds. you grab onto the counter, leaning back on your hands as you try to bite back moans. "Look at ya, dirtying your moms counter. don't you feel bad?" he teases. you don'tㅡ for anything. it all fades away. the moment he digs into you, your eyes roll to the back of your head. joel circles his tongue around your swollen bud agonizingly slow. you try to push his head further, signal him to go faster, but he's adamant that he takes his time.
it doesn't take long until you feel yourself unraveling, that pit forming into your tummy as your muscles tense up. Just then, Joel pulls away with that, leaving you gasping for air. "Not yet, baby. want you to come on my cock." he was so vile, wiping his face with the shirt he had on before undoing his pants. they fall to his ankles and he scoots closer so that he's between your legs, his lenght resting snug between your puffy lips.
"Please, joel, don't do this to me.." You whine, unable to resist longer. "Pretty desperate thing. 's okay, I'll give it to you." With that, he pulls you closer and aligns himself with you dripping entrance. even if it wasn't the first time with him, it still stings, the stretch deliciously painful. "Fuck, baby, look at that. this pussy was made for me, yeah? say it baby. say this pussy is mine." he grabs you harshly by your face, as he pushes in fully. " 's all y-yours, joel, 'm all yours."
"damn right you are. my little girl, so eager to take my cock.." he deliberately snaps his hips, the tip slipping past your cervix. the pain was taking over your body, and you let yourself sob as joel holds you close while he starts moving. " 's okay, sweet thing. i got you. you're alright, you can take it." you are alright.
Joel leans down to capture your lips into another kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, igniting a spark within your core. The kiss deepens, filled with an intensity that speaks of desire. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as his fingers trace delicate patterns on your skin. The world around you blurs as he pushes inside of you faster, harder, and you hiss softly through the kiss. he's moving his hips the same rhythm as your heart that was pounding against your chest. "I can never get enough of you.." he growls through broken grunts as he moves into you, your walls clenching around him. "Joel, godㅡ" he leans down again, planting soft pecks across your collar bones and down to your breasts. "yeah? c'mon baby, tell me how good it feels."
"feels so good.." Your moans echo through his head like a melody, and you can feel Joel's grip onto your waist growing tighter. the familiar pool into your lower belly makes its presence known as your back arches against his hold, one hand slipping under one of your thighs as his lips write kisses from your neck to your pebbled nipples "I'm so closeㅡ" Your little cries are enough to send him over the edge. "I love you so much, baby, shitㅡ 'm gonna come some deep in you. feel me in your little tummy?"
your heart almost stops. he loves you. joel loves you. he said he loves you while he's drilling into you on your mom's countertop. and he's your mom's husband. as he's fucking deeper into you, the words slip out without warning, no second-guessing. "I love yㅡou, Joel!" he closes his eyes, forehead resting agains yours as his hips buckle from releasing white ropes of warm liquid inside of your velvet walls, the feeling overwhelming and suffocating. you wait for him to calm down a bit before you bring your hands to his face and pull him up for another kiss. You both catch your breath. finally, he breaks the silence, while taking his shaft out of your pulsing cunt.
"fuck, baby... look at the mess you made. you bad girlㅡ lick it up now." you whimper as you try to move your limp body down the counter, bending yourself over to lick up the juices and come that dripped from you. joel licks his lips, watching as his seed trickles down your thighs. he takes two fingers and with no warning sticks them up in you, as you still lick the cold surface. "Want it all in you." you feel his warm, thick fingers swirling around your cunt, pushing back in any come that may have slipped out. "You'll look so pretty with my baby in you."
Joel loves you.
taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @1-800-sluttysadness @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller angst#pedro pascal angst
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BEHIND BARS
A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it.
Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast.
What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out.
He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.
Now it feels more like a nightmare.
“Another one?”
The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find.
“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”
“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”
“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.
The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back.
You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.
You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online.
Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless.
Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying.
When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom.
It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination.
“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you.
Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway.
“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.
“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze.
“Be careful then, Angel.”
“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him.
He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league.
Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him.
Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place.
Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt.
He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands.
“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”
His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost.
“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink.
What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest.
You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure.
“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”
“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”
Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.
But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you.
“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same.
Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away.
You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.
Please come back tomorrow.
You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you.
It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it.
It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools.
“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her.
“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”
It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker.
The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.
“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh.
“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”
You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.
“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.
Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.
“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears.
Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs.
A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look.
He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar.
The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves.
“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”
Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage.
Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him.
“You invited me back.”
“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”
Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.
“I was curious,” you admit at last.
“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.
“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”
Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath.
“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?
A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it.
He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table.
“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.”
His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.
“Y/N.”
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go.
While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers.
“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”
All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did.
“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.
The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him.
“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”
“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”
The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends.
Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.
“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”
You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you.
“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”
“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”
Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking.
“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”
“You what?”
“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”
“I-I was, but…”
“The round of drinks. I sent it.”
“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.
“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”
You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong.
“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”
Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.
“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head.
“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”
“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”
He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again.
“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.”
It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it.
“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”
“But why me?” you keep pushing.
“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him.
“What?”
“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”
“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you.
“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.
I just know you taste good.
The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink.
“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”
You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut.
“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work.
“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”
Boss?
“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you.
“Boss? Did I hear that right?”
“Absolutely did,” he chuckles.
“So you’re…”
“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”
You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.
And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here.
“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”
“No, I–”
“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”
You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right.
To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.
“Are you still friends?” you ask him.
“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle.
“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”
“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”
It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.
“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”
Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth.
“What about it?”
“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”
You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely.
“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.
“So soon?”
“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”
That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.
“Are you sick of this place?”
“Why?”
“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting.
“I can be here by seven.”
“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”
You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow.
You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting.
You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him.
Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you.
“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”
Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.
“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile.
“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar.
“Absolutely.”
The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.
Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed.
“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.
“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”
“What’s that like?”
“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”
Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe.
This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you.
“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker.
You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking.
“Okay, now take the cap off.”
He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you.
“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top.
“And finally, the passion fruit.”
He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride.
“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”
Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.
“It’s amazing.”
“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes.
The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips.
The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him.
But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.
“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.
“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.
“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.
“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”
Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting.
At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices.
“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage.
“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail.
“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers.
It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind.
They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them.
Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters.
There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink.
Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.
He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him.
“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.
“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth.
There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself.
But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.
“Harry, where are we going?”
“Up. To my suite.”
“You have a suite here?”
“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.”
His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open.
Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you.
You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites.
You walk into a spacious living room with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.
The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV.
“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view.
Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Why are we here?”
He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior.
“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”
You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now.
“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.
“See what?”
“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”
The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach.
You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself.
But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.
“I want to show you. How I see you.”
His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.
His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment.
You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion.
One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you.
Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.
“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.
Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest.
“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants.
When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire.
You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace.
When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you.
Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation.
“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually.
“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely.
“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave.
Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.
But you feel everything.
You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm.
When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before.
“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”
“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.
“That’s a start.”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”
Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes.
“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.
“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it.
You both burst out in laughter at the same time.
“Not like that!” he shakes his head.
“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”
“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.
“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”
“Everything. I want to know everything.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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Wolf Bite
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader
Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Violence, fluff
Word Count: 4850
Part 2
A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.
You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.
You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.
“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.
“No, it’s too risky,” he says.
“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.
“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.
“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.
“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.
“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know.
“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”
“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.
“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.
“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”
“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.
“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.
“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”
Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.
“That should do it,” she says.
“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.
†††
The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.
“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”
“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.
When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”
The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.
This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.
“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.
“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.
“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.
“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.
“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.
“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”
“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.
“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.
“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.
“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.
“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.
“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.
“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.
“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”
You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.
“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.
Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.
Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.
You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.
Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.
As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.
You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.
She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.
You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.
You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.
On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.
You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.
You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.
“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.
“Doing just great thanks,” he says.
“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”
“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”
“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.
“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.
“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”
“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.
“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.
“And then he just left,” you say.
“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.
“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.
“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.
“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.
You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.
†††
Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.
“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.
“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”
At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.
“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.
“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”
I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.
“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.
“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.
“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.
“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.
“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.
“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.
Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.
“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.
“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.
“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.
“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”
“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”
“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.
“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.
“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.
Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.
You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.
The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.
Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.
There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.
“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?
“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.
“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.
“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”
“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.
“Your wound, love.”
“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”
His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”
“Um yeah.”
He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”
You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”
“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”
The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”
“What?”
“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.
Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”
“So you admit that you would use it later?”
His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.
“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.
You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”
As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.
Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.
You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?
He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”
He does have a point.
“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.
“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”
Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.
He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.
At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.
“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I think so.”
“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.
“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”
He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”
His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.
“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.
“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”
“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.
“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”
“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.
“I still don’t understand.”
“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.
“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.
He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.
Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.
“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.
#klaus x reader#klaus x you#klaus x y/n#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x you#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#tvd#tvd fanfiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction#tvd klaus#the originals#the originals fanfiction
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||BOTH AIN’T SHIT|| t.f.
summary :: “Fuck it, guess we both ain’t shit.” OR you decide to unblock toji (again) after getting bored of your boyfriend (again).
content :: toji fushiguro x reader, smut, 18+, cheating, female anatomy, nicknames (pretty girl, doll, pretty, baby), profanity (duh), reader is lowkey a runner, inspired by b.a.s. by megan thee stallion (my queen)
a/n :: guys this is my first ever smut SO BE NICE (pls im sensitive) !! also take this as a peace offering for taking so long to post chapter one of bad habits 😭 i’m so sorry pookies
you stared at the text on your phone with a bored expression.
ten minutes ago
that fucker left you on delivered for ten minutes. you know he’s most likely busy, but you can’t find it in you to care. you were never the one to wait, especially for a man. rolling your eyes, you leave the messaging app and go to your contacts. you go to the block folder and and go straight for one name.
toji
unblocking him, you immediately call his number.
ring…ring…ri-
“and to what do i owe the pleasure?”
your eyebrow twitches, you could practically feel his smirk.
“you already know what i want.”
“awe this one isn’t treating you right? when you gonna stop dealing with those boys you seem to attract.”
“whenever you stop dealing with those girls that like to flock around you,” you bite back, attitude already manifesting.
“fair, my place or yours?”
you huff before responding, “packing my bag right now.”
he lets out a grunt before you hang up. a grin spreads across your face as excitement rushes through your body. it’s been months since the two of you saw each other and you’ll never admit it, but you kind of miss him. to be fair, you do block him whenever you’re in a new relationship, but they never last that long.
————
the man never locks his door so you don’t bother knocking. you walk in and take your shoes off before making a beeline to his room. you heard his shower running so you put your bag down and make yourself comfortable on toji’s bed.
you look around the room from your spot, everything looks the same. except a bright pink and lacy thong near his closet door. you roll your eyes at the thought of someone else being under him, though you can’t be too upset since you’re doing the same thing.
“look at you sitting pretty and waiting for me.”
your thoughts were interrupted by the man in a towel. he looked so fucking hot fresh out the shower. hair slightly sticking to his face, water droplets gently caressing his muscles, you squeeze your thighs together as you stare. ignoring your arousal, you look away and nod your head towards the thong.
“your girlfriend’s or something?” you asked, wrinkling your nose. toji lets out a low chuckle, glancing at the thong before he slowly approaches you on the bed.
“not quite.”
“you don’t gotta lie, it’s not like i really give a fuck.” you say as you begin to take off your shorts.
toji stops you and replaces your hand with his so he can take them off himself. he traps you in place with his knees so you’re looking up at him.
“attitude already? someone missed me.”
toji smirks up at you, throwing your bottoms across the room and working on your panties. another wave of arousal hits you as you watch his facial expression.
“no i-“
“you don’t have to lie, i know you.” he smirks as you scoff at him.
your panties are off and toji groans at the sight of your pulsing pussy, already dripping with arousal. he uses his middle and ring finger to gather your slick and tease your hole. you whine impatiently as you try to grind onto his fingers but his other hand holds your hips down.
“shush, you know how this goes.” he scolds, causing you to whine more.
he prods your entrance with his middle finger for a moment before plunging both of them inside you.
“oh fuck-“
you moan as you lay your head back onto a pillow. your walls tighten around his fingers as you try to move your hips, but toji’s grip stays strong.
“she really hasn’t been fucked right if you��re going crazy over my fingers.”
toji continues to pump his fingers into you, using his thumb to firmly rub your clit. you let out quiet moans as your body slightly tenses up at every jolt of pleasure.
“c’mon pretty, relax a bit,” he says to you as he works your pussy open, curling his fingers up to search your sweet spot. one more rough push and he ended up hitting it, causing your body to jerk a bit.
“yes, right there!” you moan out, attempting to squeeze your legs together but toji forced them open.
“we’re having none of that, you got it?”
you weakly nod as he continues to abuse your cunt with his fingers, repeatedly jabbing your sweet spot and roughly rubbing your clit.
“ah, fuck i’m gonna-“
you cut yourself off with a high pitched whine as the knot in your stomach snaps. toji continues to fuck you through your high.
“that’s it, there you go.”
once you’ve calmed down, he took his fingers out of you and leaves you to clench around nothing. he leans in close to your face to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. his tongue immediately invades your mouth, and you start sucking on it without a second thought. the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your quiet moans and your lips smacking.
as you guys continue to kiss, no one wanting to detatch for air, you feel something poke your bare thigh. breaking from the kiss, you look down to see toji’s bulge poking through his towel. despite just having an orgasm, the sight of how painfully hard he was made your pussy throb. you look up at him with pleading eyes.
“you wanna help me out baby?” he asked, already removing the towel from his waist.
you nod as you both adjust your positions. toji sits at the edge of the bed while you sit on your knees between his thighs. you look up at him with hooded eyes as he gives himself a couple of pumps. he gently slaps his cock on your lips and lets out a groan.
“fuck. suck it good baby.”
you grip his dick firmly, giving it a kitten lick before kissing it. it was thick and heavy in your hand, the tip an angry shade of red while dripping with precum.
you open your mouth and put as much as you could inside, using your hand to stroke the rest. you hollow out your cheeks as you bob your hand up and down, tongue swirling his tip. toji ran his finger through the roots of your hair before gripping a handful. he gave your hair a slight tug, causing you to moan around his dick.
“shit. ju-just like that.”
your hand slipped down to your pussy to play with your clit as you tried to take in more of him. the room was filled with your muffled moans and his pants and occasional praises. you were close to making yourself cum and, by the way toji’s cock twitched, you could tell he was close too.
“fuck. stop.”
you ignored him and kept going until he tightened his grip on your hair and pulled you off.
“i said off.”
he uses his other hand to squeeze your cheeks and makes you look up at him, leaning dangerously close to your face.
“what i do?” you ask, slight desperation in your voice.
“you think you can cut me off for months and expect me to not cum in your pussy?”
“i jus’ wan—“
“on the bed doll.”
you got up off your knees with some help and crawled back onto the bed. shortly after laying on your back, toji slots himself between your legs. he grabs one of your legs and dangle it over his shoulder. with the other hand, he grips his cock and rubs it up and down between your slit, covering it in your juices.
he rubs circles into the thigh on his shoulder as he stares into your eyes.
“you ready baby?”
“please.”
toji lined himself up before plunging into your tight hole. you let out a broken moan as you felt him fill you up. he didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he started mercilessly pounding into your pussy.
“fuck- squezin’ me so tight,” he grunted out, pushing your leg to your chest to fuck into you deeper. the stretch made you roll your eyes back
with every thrust, you let out a fucked out moan.
“fuckin’ me s’ good. needed your dick so bad.” you whine, eyes rolling back with every jolt of pleasure.
“yeah? that little—ngh—boyfriend of yours wasn’t cutting it?”
he huffs as he is eyes travel from your fucked out face to your tits bouncing with every thrust. you blindly reach for his free hand and, without thinking, led it up to your neck. he smirks as he tightens his grip around your neck just enough to make you feel light headed.
“fuck— yesyesyes…”
as you feel yourself getting closer, the pleasure started to get a little overwhelming. you reach down to attempt to push him away but toji kept going, keeping you in place while leaning down to kiss along your jaw.
“haven’t been fucked properly in so long you running away now?”
he doesn’t expect you to answer, recognizing how fucked out you are. he was also close to reaching his high, but he’d be damned if he came first.
“no—no one will fuck you like i do, yeah?” he growls into your ear, moving his hips to fuck you in a different angle. his rhythm faltered a bit as your pussy gripped his dick tighter.
“yes, o—only you can fuck me like this!” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.
“i know you’re close doll, go ahead and cream on my dick.”
with the permission you didn’t know you needed, you finally let the tension in your body snap, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your arms around his neck. a wave of pleasure flowed through your body as your pussy had a death grip on toji’s dick.
“oooh shit, yes!”
you cumming set his orgasm off as he gave you one more deep thrust before cumming inside of you, removing his hand from your neck and lifting you off the bed with the arm to hold you closer.
“that’s a good girl.” toji groans, holding you in place as you milk him dry. you both stay like that while you come down from your highs.
toji gently lowers you back on the bed and slowly pulls out of you, causing you to whimper at the empty feeling. you move your arms from his neck and grab his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. he reciprocates and the kiss is slow and gentle, but still a little desperate. you moan into the kiss as he sucks on your tongue.
after a few moments, when you two are fully relaxed, the kiss breaks. toji slowly gets off the bed and walks into the bathroom. it only takes a minute before he’s back with a wet washcloth. he begins to wipe the sweat off your body before cleaning your sensitive area. he’s not the most gentle, but it was still sweet.
————
the silence was comforting before toji’s phone started ringing.
“hello?…yeah sorry, i can’t chill today…family shit, you know how it is…”
he’s sitting next to you, one arm around your shoulder as he talks to who you’re assuming is his girl. you look over at him, biting back a laugh so as to not get him into trouble. then you hear your phone start to buzz. you grab it from the bedside table and look at the texts.
sorry it’s been a while, i got caught up in some work.
it’s okay, it wasn’t really important. we can hang later this week
after sending that text you look over to toji, who’s smirking at you.
“you ain’t shit,” you assume he was reading the messages after he hung up the phone.
“neither are you,” you say back, returning the smirk.
toji shrugged before leaning back into the headboard.
“fair…you want takeout?”
“always.”
both of y’all really ain’t shit.
MASTERLIST
#dee.fics#first smut#pls im so proud of myself#but also terrified#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x black!reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader
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𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒓, in which, if charles didn’t care for you, maybe a specific red bull driver he doesn’t really like, will.. part one here! ౨ৎ max verstappen x famous!reader
INSTAGRAM DMS
maxverstappen1 replied to your story
maxverstappen1
hey, i’m sorry about the break up
charles never deserved you though
yourusername
haha it’s okay
he didn’t do anything wrong though 😊
it was a mutual break up
maxverstappen1
ohhh, alright
that’s nice to know 😃
TWITTER
IMESSAGE , MAX & LANDO January 4th, 2024
max
Lando
lando
Max 🤔
Rare text, what do you need mate?
max
by any chance do you have yns number
lando
oh my god do you
finally have the balls to (attempt) to pull her
max
i’ve always had the balls :/
charles just beat me to it
lando
he was quite charming
max
he’s a cheater, he isn’t very charming
lando
thats why i said ‘was’
max
ok but do u have her number
lando
duh? we’re like this🤞🏼
it’s xxx-xxx-xxx
max
okk thank you very much
lando
of course mate
goodluck you’ll need it
also u will be talked (possibly made fun of)
about in the gc. so be careful..
max
uhm ok mate
bye….. 😃
INSTAGRAM
yourprivate
Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, landonorris, and 122 others
yourprivate new year, new me 💆♀️
fuck🖕🏼men 🤮
January 14th, 2024
View all 14 comments
alex_albon yk damn well ur the biggest lover girl
→ yourprivate uhmm wdym? i’m not
landonorris i know something u dont 🤫
lilymhe its okay baby 😔
→ yourprivate 😔😔💖💖 ily
georgerussell63 wake up
→ yourprivate get out my private bitch 🤮
→ georgerussell63 cunt
→ yourprivate something u never serve..
danielricciardo wow this post ate 🎀
danielricciardo it would eat even more if u reactivated the main
→ yourprivate i’ll be back in like 9 months
→ landonorris HOLY SHIT ARE U PREGNANT
→ yourprivate NO??? WHAT??? WHY WOULD U THINK THAT???
→ landonorris coz u said 9 months and thats like how long it takes to give birth Idk
→ yourprivate u are so slow gn
IMESSAGE , MAX & YOU January 14th, 2024
xxx-xxx-xx
are you a rose?
cause i think you’re a catch 😉
yn
oh my god 😂 that was such a sucky
pick up line.. who is this? 😭
xxx-xxx-xxx
your future boyfriend, hopefully
yn
how’d u get my number though
i rlly hope you aren’t a stalker 😭
or i’m gonna contact the police
xxx-xxx-xxx
WAIT NO 😭
it’s max
i’m sorry lol
yn
oh my god 😭
i didn’t see u as the corny pick up line type
you changed this contact to ‘max’
max
what can i say?
also sorry for freaking you out
i asked lando for your number, i hope you don’t mind
yn
nah its fine 😭
max
are you okay though?
you deactivated, saw it all over twitter
yn
yeah no, i’m ok
well not rlly but I don’t wanna like .. talk about it
max
that’s totally fine
but if you ever need someone to talk to
i’m always free
and i have cats so.. free therapy
yn
thats how u get the girl !
max
charlie should have taken some notes
unsent message
haha i guess i know how to get you now ?
yn
you’re a flirt aren’t you
max
only for you
yn
😭😭
i’ll be back in a minute someone messaged me
max
alright
IMESSAGE , CHARLES & YOU January 14th, 2024
don’t respond
hi angel, can i come over?
i miss your kisses, cherie
can’t we get back together
yn
no we can’t
charles stop it. i don’t want you
you’re the one who cheated on me
if you were going to miss my kisses so bad, why’d you cheat?
don’t respond
it’s a new year though, new us.
yn
no charles
you need to get over it
i mean, i did
don’t respond
get over it? you deactivated on everything
that isn’t getting over it. you’re avoiding your problems
yn
yeah I’m avoiding you, you’re my biggest one
get a new girlfriend
it obviously isn’t that hard for you..
Delivered
INSTAGRAM
yourprivate
Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 102 others
yourprivate men suck….. (i think he’s cute)
January 17th, 2024
View all comments
lilymhe u better not be talking about ch*rles
→ yourprivate no
landonorris is it ***
→ yourprivate 🤔🤔🤔???
alex_albon i thought u weren’t a lover girl
→ yourprivate i’m not
→ alex_albon caption says otherwise
georgerussell63 yw for the cake
→ yourprivate thanks georgie 😊
INSTAGRAM
charles_leclerc
Liked by carlossainz55, pierrepasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,309,192 others
charles_leclerc overrated
January 23rd, 2024
View all 1,099 comments
user ohh ik yn is laughing at his silly ass
user he’s going dark 🖤⛓️
user he wanna be aesthetic so fuckin bad
user this is not it ‼️ archive this post ‼️
user yeah, ur overrated
→ user we luv a self aware king
user not everyone dragging him in the comments 😭
→ user cause we all love yn 💆♀️
lewishamilton be so fr you have no sense of fashion, m8 😂
carlossainz55 🖤
landonorris yeah this post is not ittttt
alex_albon alright mate….
danielricciardo who did not cheer! 😂😭
pierregasly 🔥
TWITTER
TWITTER
IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU February 14th, 2024
max <3
hey :)
happy valentines 🤍
yn
hii maxie
happy valentines! 💌
max <3
i bought you a little something
since you love snoopy
and me 😉
yn
you got one thing right
max <3
wowww
nevermind then
yn
kidding 🙄🙄
max <3
i’m picking you up
is an hour enough time
yn
yess
see you sooon 😊🤍
max <3
🤍
IMESSAGE, “YN FANCLUB 😊” February 15th, 2024
landoooo
how much r we betting that he did it
alexito
£100 he didn’t
lil 🎀
£100 he did
landoooo
i’m team he did it
georgie
he aint do shit 😂🔥
i’m team he didn’t do it
lil 🎀
is alex holding u gunpoint ???
landoooo
facts
max isn’t a pussy he def said something at least
yn
hi guyyyyssss
what are you guys talking about
georgie
we’re betting on ur little bf
did he ask you out
lil 🎀
ok wow 😭 straight to the point
yn
he did 😊😊😊
lil 🎀
HOLY SHIT
HAHAHAA
ALEX, GEORGE,
landoooo
PAYYY UPPP!!!! 💰
alexito
GTFOOO
georgie
🔥🔥 my ass is not paying
yn
u better pay them
also £100 is crazy???
look at what he got me 🥹 and he’s such a cutie
lil 🎀
SNOOPY 😭 I WISSHH
so down bad
🥹🥹 the cutest
yn
i cried 😔 he’s adorable
alexito
u guys are so cute
i hope it lasts!!
landoooo
daniel asked if u bringing back the main
cause like ur happy now
yn
2025 my year
plus u guys are in my priv why does it matter
georgie
right lmfao 😭
congrats on the bf though 🥳
hopefully he doesn’t turn out like our
good ol’ friend charlie!!!!
alexito
mate sthu
respectfully
georgie
wow that makes it a whole lot better, thanks m8
lil 🎀
how about u both sthu
INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, redbullracing, and 1,220,218 others
maxverstappen1 and here’s to my baby :)
June 3rd, 2024
View all 1,101 comments
user didn’t expect a soft launch from max fuckin verstappen 😨
user HELLO???
user this girl has style.. dressing him up? 😍😍
→ user I noticed the style change, didn’t expect all this tho
user i just know shes hot
user stop soft launching i need to know who it is
danielricciardo lucky man
→ maxverstappen1 i am very lucky
landonorris cutie
→ maxverstappen1 😘
→ alex_albon it’s official: lando is the one getting soft launched
→ landonorris shhh people aren’t supposed to know
lilymhe she’s the loml
georgerussell63 🤮🤮🤮
→ maxverstappen1 get out - the girl
→ georgerussell63 🤓🤓☝️☝️
IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU June 13th, 2024
max <3
the sunset is in two hours
i’m picking you up
and we’re going to the beach to watch it
yn
😭😭 okay max
max
see you soon :))
yn
yeah, i love you 🤍
max <3
say that again in person
not over text 🙄
yn
okay max 😭😭
max <3
i love you though
INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
Liked by lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 103,021 others
maxverstappen1 starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights.
June 13th, 2024
View all 1,001 comments
user AAUGGHH IM GOING CRAZY
user why are the captions so romantic… secret artist ? 😨
→ user lol she’s probably writing them for him
user charles gtfo 😭😭
user i love them (idk who she is)
landonorris 4 months tmr cutie 😍
→ maxverstappen1 i love you baby 🥰
→ user 4???? WHAATTT
alex_albon tell her to stop talkin abt u bro 🤦
→ maxverstappen1 no can do buckaroo
redbullracing our driver sure has some pretty good captions
lilymhe my gf 💖💖
IMESSAGE, CHARLES & YOU August 5th, 2024
don’t respond
you aren’t smart
yn
huh
don’t respond
you’re dating max?
is this just some petty thing ? cause i don’t like him?
yn
uhm no lmfao 😭
yeah i’m dating him though
don’t respond
is he better than me?
yn
yeah lol
100%
don’t respond
you know, he isn’t really the type to commit
yn
noted ? pretty sure he would’ve left by now
if that were the case lol
don’t respond
ok.
yn
lmfao.
You have blocked this person
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)
Liked by landonorris, redbullracing, alex_albon, and 2,871,292 others
yourusername 🎀
October 1st, 2024
View all 3,202 comments
user OH MY GOD
user the man..
user i fell to my knees
user who is that
user my girl came back better than ever
user FINALLY ????
user she came back and started to soft launch a man gn
lilymhe wowwww 😍😍 i missed ur main acc posts
danielricciardo SERVED CUNT 💋
→ yourusername mwa 😚
danielricciardo i prayed for times like these
maxverstappen1 last slide kinda kinky
→ yourusername u wish, never horny on the main
→ user LMFAOO
landonorris ooooo let the light innnn
georgerussell63 odd post for ur first one back
→ yourusername sthu
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
Liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 1,200 others
yourusername redbull is my fav btw
October 8th, 2024
View all 2,292 comments
user her smile ☹️🤍
user THAT DRINK IS SO YUM
user my aesthetic queen 🐳
user mystery man u are lucky
user she’s so captivating
user UGHHH 😔😔☹️☹️
charles_leclerc drink company’s don’t suit u
→ maxverstappen1 lol
→ user LMFAOO
→ user embarrassing urself...
redbullracing 💙💙💙
→ yourusername 🩵
landonorris papaya better actually ☝️🤓
→ yourusername errmm 🤓
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,110,210 others
yourusername i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck.
October 10th, 2024
View all 1,209 comments
user m.. suspicious
user is that not max’s new cat
user shes so cutesy
user IS THE CAPTION A LYRIC HELLOOO
user white men always win her over
landonorris mmmmmmmmmm 3️⃣🏆
→ yourusername sthu😭😭😭
→ user bro tryna give us easter eggs
lilymhe that bagel looks rlly fucking good
→ yourusername IT WAASSS
danielricciardo my bf guys
→ yourusername 😍 -m
redbullracing 🐐🐐🐐
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing and 3,101,119 others
yourusername new ep soon. 6 songs. ‘solo, tiwwchnt, ciwyw, dbm, sdg, and getaway car.” i hope u enjoy it.. out the 12th ! <3
November, 4th 2024
View all 5,110 comments
user i’m in a getaway car too queen
user “and here’s to my real friends” 2019 rookies & lily 🥲
→ yourusername my babies 4eva
user DONT BLAAAMEEE MEEE, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY ��
user who cried and screamed listening to this album
user i brought a 🔪 to a 🔫 fight
user AHHHHHHHH
user thank u for yn’s not so mystery man but thank u for this ep ☝️☝️
landonorris used to being the GOAT
→ yourusername 🐐
danielricciardo getaway car on LOOP 🔂
maxverstappen1 but would u run away with me ?
→ yourusername yes!
→ user WHAATT
→ user this confirms everything basically
lilymhe so proud of u wifey 🤍🤍
→ yourusername mwaaa 💋
georgerussell63 i support this
→ yourusername thanks pretty princess
→ georgerussell63 nevermind
alex_albon lily and i will be listening on repeat
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
Liked by yourusername, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,440,292 others
maxverstappen1 you said you love me, i say something back.
November 14th
View all 3,101 comments
user THE CHARLES SHADDEEE
user oh my hod. i adore them.
user ugh they’re the most bf gf couple ever
user charles could never LOOL
user these pictures im on the floor
user they’re my endgame
lilymhe she’s so cute in these pics
→ maxverstappen1 she’s always cute
danielricciardo FAVS
landonorris when they solo >
→ maxverstappen1 you’re the reason why i’m with her, thank you 😄
→ landonorris of course mate
christianhorner congratulations! happy for the both of you 🍾
georgerussell63 this is so goat coded
→ maxverstappen1 wow thanks
yourusername happy 9 months baby 💋
→ maxverstappen1 ik houd van je 🤍
→ user NINE. MONTHS.
→ user STOP NINEE…😭😭😭
yourusername wow we’re so adorable
arthur_leclerc thank you for making yn happier than my brother ever did 🙏🏼
→ maxverstappen ofc m8
→ user LMFAO EVEN HE’S TIRED OF CHARLES
౨ৎ finally… i posted… so SO so sorry for not posting in awhile, this took so long to post but 😭😭 here u gooo…. also thank u guys so much for 400 !!! i love u all <333 💋
taglist: @landovilla @moneygramhaas @ch3rryknots @amoosarte @1655clean @dark-night-sky-99 @kortneej81 @he6rtshaker ౨ৎ
#𓇼 landitolover#꩜ my writings#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#social media au#smau#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc#lando norris#female reader#angst with a happy ending#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#daniel ricciardo#lando norris x reader#george russell#lily muni he
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Lucerys' funerals and Jace saying he'd ratehr die himself than lose another of his brothers and being heartbroken and you comforting/being there for him
Although Jacaerys looks really good in his new clothes, I'm not ready for this scene. It will most likely happen in episode 1. I tried to minimize the sadness, but be prepared for tears
Warnings: graphic details/mention of Lucerys' death,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Three days after Lucerys left to deliver a message on Storm’s End, dreadful news reached Rhaenyra: her son was dead. A raven from Lord Borros reported that a fisherman had discovered Lucerys’ head and neck washed up beneath the cliffs of Storm's End.
First, her father and her stillborn daughter. Then, her crown. And now her teenage son, her sweet boy Lucerys. Rhaenyra had known loss in her life, but how much grief and pain could one person bear before they’re inconsolable?
The cause of Lucerys’ death was a mystery, but Daemon vowed to uncover the truth. Although he wasn’t his son by blood, he cared about the boy. The storm alone could not have decapitated him, no matter how fierce.
The young prince’s remains were brought to Dragonstone, but Rhaenyra needed more. Determined and heartbroken, she flew on Syrax’s back, searching for ten days for any remains of Lucerys — or Arrax. If the storm caused them to crash, there should be more evidence, right? Yet, the Queen found nothing.
During these ten days, Jacaerys returned from the North with promising news about the Vale and Winterfell. He entered the quiet castle with a smile on his face, impatient to tell his mother about her new allies, but it washed away when you told him about his little brother.
Jacaerys' stomach churned, refusing to believe the words. Lucerys couldn't be dead. He saw him a few days ago, they were sparring on the beach.
‘’No… That’s not true,’’ he denied, shaking his head.
‘’They found parts of his body, I…I’m sorry, Jace. Luke is dead.’’
Jacaerys stood still for a moment, his face pale and expressionless as the reality of your words began to sink in. He was rarely ever struck, but losing a brother felt like a part of him was being ripped away. You watched as he brought a hand over his heart, filled with a deep, aching pain. His face contorted and his eyes welled up with tears.
Seeing him break was rare, and it tore at your heart.
He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the tears, and looked at you, his eyes filled with despair. ‘’How did it happen?’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The King’s passing had been a significant loss for the Seven Kingdoms, but Jacaerys was never close to his grandsire. He had seen him occasionally in King’s Landing and at the occasional dinner, but the King had been very ill. His death had been inevitable.
Lucerys, however, was young and healthy, with his whole life ahead of him.
A tear slipped down Jacaerys’ face. He never thought he would have to live a life without his brother.
You shook your head, wishing you had answers. ‘’We don’t know. Daemon is looking for answers.’’
The day of the funeral, Dragonstone was silent, grieving the loss of the young prince.
Your stomach was tied in a knot as you dressed yourself. A maid came to your door, asking if you wanted her help this morning, but you politely declined. Today was going to be emotional and you wanted to get ready in privacy.
When you finished clasping your necklace, you glanced at Jacaerys and noticed he was struggling. He couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking, making it impossible to fasten his brooch right. He made a noise of frustration and you walked over to him.
‘’Let me help.’’ you said softly, securing the brooch to his cloak and doublet, and smoothing his collar.
He thanked you with the smallest smile, grateful to have you in his life — especially in dark times. He couldn’t have found a better person to call his wife.
‘’Have you gotten the clothes from Luke’s chamber?’’ you asked.
Jacaerys let out a heavy breath. ‘’Y-yeah. They’re over there, on the bed.’’
It was his idea to take some of Lucerys’ clothes to burn with what was found of his body. It looked less disturbing than a single head in the middle of the funeral pyre.
‘’I knew there would be deaths during the war — it’s inevitable —, but I didn’t think Luke would be the first to go. I should have taught him how to navigate a dragon during a storm…’’
You cupped his face between your hands, making him look at you. ‘’Don’t go there,’’ you said firmly, holding his teary eyes. ‘’What happened was not your fault, Jace.’’
Jacaerys closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. ‘’I know,’’ he whispered, his voice breaking. ‘’A part of me cannot help but feel some guilt. Luke was always scared of flying, of not being able to control his dragon. And now— now he’s dead.’’
You pressed your forehead against his, holding back your own tears. You tried to think of something to say, but no words would alleviate the pain.
‘’I would rather die than lose another of my brothers.’’
—
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#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon imagine#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon imagine
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THIS IS JUST TRAINING — g.s
⛤ gojo satoru x fem! reader
Perverted gojo is just teaching you some things.
cw. smut. oral (m. receiving). corruption. masturbation. toy usage. inexperienced reader. pussyjob. fingering. petnames (angel, sweetheart, baby) public sex. dirty talk. pervert gojo. age gap. 18+!
wc: 1.2k
Gojo was your superior since you were the youngest out of the sorcerer teachings in the school. You still needed a little help to get around and Gojo would be gladly to help you if you asked for it. In return you would have to do everything he says, if he needed a cup of coffee or deliver his messages for him and let him know if anything, like you were his little apprentice. You didn’t mind even when you had a crush of him and he knew that, who wouldn’t? how could he not take advantage of that? He had all the power that he could do whatever he pleased since your quite naive.
He saw you as someone who had no idea what she was getting herself into, being utterly perverted when he had asked “have you ever masturbated before?” You became flustered and nodded yes looking down to avoid his gaze, fiddling with your top and he just smirks at your reaction. “What do you do? Does it feel good?” “I use my fingers��but I don’t think I’m doing it right..” how pure you are this tempts him even more, exciting him, leaving him with a shit grin on his face. “Probably because your fingers are too small, I would love to help you with that, think of it as training” “training?”
His two fingers shoved deep into your hole and you let out a choked sound, his fingers reached farther than your fingers ever did and it was a stretch. You were bent over on a desk and you were on the tip of your toes when his fingers curled and rubbed at the right spot that made you let out a whine. “Wow your pussy is so tight around my fingers” he says steadily bringing his fingers in and out of your hole. “Ah! Gojo..mpffh please” he leans down to you and hums “please? You want me to go faster?” And you nod with a whimper. You moan when he starts thrusting his fingers faster, rubbing at your walls. His thumb strokes your clit when he reaches back inside. Your ass desperately moving against his fingers for more when your clit starts to ache and your lower stomach builds up a knotting sensation. “Wait-ah! Gojo I feel something!” You gasp
“Y’er about to orgasm sweetheart” it was a strange feeling. You’ve done it before but you never reached an big O that Gojo is bringing you.
Your pussy making beautiful sounds and your walls sucking in his fingers. Gojo turns his fingers, his palm facing upwards and his fingers reaching deeper. You covered your mouth refusing to let out any more high pitched moans when you would put it as you’re about to explode. “Aw sweet angel” he coos, his fingers repeatedly shoving inside you knowingly you were gonna cream over his fingers and you did, your cunt tightens fascinatingly around his digits and he smiles watching you tremble and the electrifying feeling coursing through your body. “Now you know what a intense orgasm feels like yeah?”
Gojo becoming more and more disgusting and indulged with you, he was shaped like the devil on your shoulder when he would have naughty conversations with you that you try to hold with him without getting embarrassed. “Do we have to talk about it now? It’s just-“ “but i wanna know how good it felt? It felt good didn’t it?” You flustered self couldn’t answer but nod your head yes “see you don’t have to do it yourself from now but anyway..have you ever tried a toy?”
He would love to watch you sit and struggle to hold a vibrator to your own clit he had bought you and wanted to be entertained to see you pleasure yourself and correct you on certain things like “press it harder” or “hold it higher” when you can’t take it wanting to close your legs he would frown having to spread your legs back open for him to see clearly “come on..you have to keep them open for me to see, how else am I supposed to know y’er doing it right baby?” He wants to see your pretty clit twitch and every angle he can get of your open cunt.
When its rush hour on a subway train he would make sure you were squeezed between the doors behind your back and against his chest, his arms on each side so people aren’t crushing you and he reaches under your skirt to push your panties to the side and slips his cock right between your folds and through your thighs. You would gasp and Gojo would press his finger at your lips to quiet you “things like this don’t just happen behind closed doors, you have to learn how to keep quiet, you don’t want people to see you doing such indecent acts in public do you?” his cock is rubbing your clit and the outside of your wet cunt and you started to soak his dick from each drag on your clit turning puffy. You would grit your teeth and your fingers dig into his shirt. He would smile of course, like always. In your thoughts he was just evil, his tip nudging your clit and spreading your folds, you can feel his veins on his girth swiping across your core. He’s going faster until your creaming over his cock.
He sees how far you can take him into your mouth. His fingers under your chin and making you look up at him with tears coming down your face when you struggle to not gag awfully with his cock down your throat. He’s just teaching you how to take big dick in your mouth, how to focus on the tip importantly and keep your hands wrapped around his cock at all times, make sure your not using teeth. Your drooling from your lips because he hasn’t given you a break, his dick just settling on the top of your tongue while also slowly thrusting his hips in your mouth.
“Use your tongue more..lick around it-just like that..fuck y’er so pretty with my dick in your mouth” he’s caressing your cheek and wiping your tears with his thumb. “Wrap your lips now” he tells you and you do it. His hand on your cheek now travels to the back of your neck to motion you to bob your head on it. You follow through with his rhythm beginning to do it on your own but your hands fall to his thighs, more tears begin to stream down your face and your heavily breathing through your nose for air. cum shoots down your tongue and Gojo squeezes your cheeks with his large hand looking down at you. “Don’t wanna waste it now, swallow it”
Gojo finally rewarding you with his cock, your laid on the mattress on your chest and your legs hang off the bed and hips in the air. You were too embarrassed to look behind you yet you were too impatient and whiny, trying to press your leg’s together and your hips messily wigging and squirming waiting for Gojo to bottom you out. “You want my cock that badly? Y’er so adorable” his hand gliding down your back sending you shivers. “Remember this is just training”
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo saturo
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sharpest tool | s.reid
(chapter three, full machine)
‘I'm a forest fire, you're the kerosene. I had a life here before you, but now it's burnin'. I know I know better and you're ignorin' me, still, if you asked me to run away, i'd go easily’
summary; you know you have a bad history with relationships, so to try not to get in your own head when you stop hearing from spencer.
warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset.
taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules
2.1k words.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Spencer. You understood the demands of his job, that it kept him busy and a lot of the time you were fine with that — you enjoyed your space and your own personal time. You had never had an issue with him being gone on cases before but he would always text you or call you when he got the chance.
And never had he been on a case for two weeks. Not that you knew of anyways.
It was difficult not to jump to conclusions and ruin the idea of him you had. It was difficult not to shut down. It was difficult to not think ‘how could you be so stupid’ and you were trying really really hard to not repeat past mistakes and project past relationships onto this one.
But it wasn’t even a relationship.
It wasn’t like he had talked to you at all. The first two days after he left for his case he had sent you numerous texts, telling you how sorry he was for having to leave early, he called you on the first night and stayed on the phone until you had fallen asleep. Everything was normal. There was nothing that set off any warning bells in your head.
That made you feel even worse.
You hadn’t spammed him with texts, nor calls. You hadn’t messaged him since the last text you sent was left on delivered. You wouldn’t beg for him to reply to you, you wouldn’t beg for an explanation on what you might’ve done wrong. You’d rather live with the lack of closure than further damage to your pride.
But then there was a part of you that wondered if maybe something happened to him, a big part of you worried that something happened to him — actually. You tried to ignore the lingering dwindle of anxiety in your stomach as you carried on with your day to day life. You tried so hard to ignore it.
But two weeks was a long time to ignore an aching gut feeling, one that kept you up at night and never seemed to go away.
Could you have called Spencer? Yes. You could’ve. But did you want to risk the call being ignored and every lingering doubt in your mind being proven correct and then be embarrassed about it? God no.
You were a shame spiral when you instead texted Penelope, who had given you her number when she saw you and Spencer at the grocery store, the last time you had seen him. She begged you to reach out when she got back so you two could arrange to hang out.
You weren’t even sure if they were back. Normally you would know that by Spencer coming over to your house at some ridiculous time and delving into your arms like it was the only place he had ever been able to call home, but he didn’t come over this time.
It was a simple text, ‘Hey Penelope, how are you? I haven’t heard from Spencer in a while so i just wanted to make sure he was okay’
It was good enough. You didn’t want to explain how you just wanted to make sure he was alive so you didn’t feel guilty for hating him. You didn’t exactly want to hate somebody who was dead. Yet a twisted part of you hoped that something had happened to him, because at least then he wasn’t just ignoring you.
What you weren’t expecting was your phone to light up with an incoming call from the one and only Penelope Garcia. You answered it, partly scared that she was calling because texting you to tell you that Spencer was dead seemed insensitive.
“Hello?” You answered. The place in your bed warm from the weight of your body as you shuffled slightly. It wasn’t exactly late, but it was past evening times. You heard mumbling and shuffling on the other side of the phone, before a happy voice.
“Hello my sweet angel!” Penelope greeted you, even in your doubtful mood the warm greeting from the sweet women made a smile line your lips. “I got your message — I’m a little confused. He is fine, he just left work” She answered.
Okay. Not dead.
“Oh” It passed through your lips because now you were just overwhelming confused. “Uh- How long have you guys been back?” You asked, almost afraid of the answer you would receive. You were hoping she would tell you they had only just gotten back, and that the case had been so busy that nobody had time to text anybody.
“A little over a week.” She answered. That made your chest tighten, a lot. Almost painfully. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to give the situation the satisfaction of your tears. You didn’t want to give Spencer any more power over you.
“Right. Okay. Thanks.” It came out shakier than you intended it to be and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You took pride in your ability to not care about things like this, you didn’t get emotionally involved because of this reason. Your mind was overwhelmed with an abundance of doubts and self depreciation. Embarrassment. You were so embarrassedz
“Did Spencer not tell you? He has been stroppy all week. We thought maybe he had messed up and you were mad at him.” The words came out as a playful joke, but you found it humourless. Because although you weren’t mad at him, you were now.
You wondered if you even had a right to be mad. Clearly he wasn’t dead, so he was just ignoring you. You hated how much that thought made your heart hurt an overwhelming amount. You hated how you had now let someone in enough for their absence to have an effect on you.
“He.. No. He hasn’t told me” You mumbled out, your voice representing how distant your mind was from this conversation. A million different thoughts and each one as bad as the last. You didn’t want to tell his co-worker and one of his friends that he had just up and ghosted you, you didn’t think it was fair, but you could basically hear the confusion and concern lacing her voice. “He hasn’t talked to me at all in over a week..”
“What?” Her response came out hard and fast, tone laced with clear shock and confusion. “Thats- I mean it was a rough case but.. not.. that rough — Maybe he is just overwhelmed? Have you tried calling him? He can get distracted easily.” She rambled, trying just as hard as you were to find a valid explanation for his sudden disappearance.
But you both knew Spencer. Or you thought you did. You knew enough to know about his memory. He didn’t just forget. Or maybe he did. Were you forgettable for him? Were you something so minority important that it slipped through the tight grasp of his memory. Oh that wasn’t a fun thought.
“No- uhm.. I’m not going to call him.. If he wants to talk to me he would.” You muttered. You wanted to believe that, you wanted to not care as much as you were making it out to seem you didn’t. You wanted to feel casually about it. About him.
You really regretted kissing him two months ago.
You wished you could be the type of person who believed that was no point dwelling, the type of person who would be grateful it happened rather than sad it was over — but you just weren’t. You didn’t think you were capable of getting over someone unless you hated them with every fibre of your being. Unless they hurt you to the point of no forgiveness. You couldn’t be glad it happened — not when it ended like this.
It always ended like this, you knew that from the start.
“Im so sorry. I have no idea whats going on with him!” She apologised in his behalf and it was almost funny to you. How come a girl you met once seemed to have more remorse than the guy you had (stupidly) falling in love with.
You shook your head, but she couldn’t see you. “Don’t apologise. Its fine. Its not a big deal really. We weren’t much of anything anyways.” Maybe the words came out fast enough for you to believe them, maybe they were to try and convince yourself that it was true — that it was how you felt.
It seemed it was how he felt.
“Oh sweetheart” Penelope synthesised. “How about this — We can have a massive movie night at mine sometime over the weekend and if you haven’t heard from him by then, then we can talk about how bad his eyesight is and the amount of sugar he puts in his coffee” She mumbled.
You let out a laugh, you wished that his bad eyesight and way too much sugar was the worst you could say about him right now. Your opinions on the boy seemed a lot stronger. Although it made your heart ache that it was his friend apologising and making you feel better.
“I’d like that.” You said, pulling your knees closer to your chest as your curled in on yourself in your bed. You hated how cold and empty it felt without his presence by your side. Even with the same glow of your fairy lights, the room was lit with the same warmth when it was just you.
You were mad. If you could only use one emotion to describe how you felt it would be mad. Embarrassment, disappointment, hurt — they’d all be thrown out the window. You were just so mad.
At him, for making you believe that maybe things would be different, for letting you get close to him, allowing you to trust him, open up to him. You were mad at him for giving and taking like it was some sort of game. You were mad at his lack of communication. You were mad at how he once looked at you like you held so much value only to leave as if you were worthless.
But you were more mad at yourself. You had made it a rule not to date. You had a life, a good happy life before. You busied yourself with work and going to the library to read and get a moment of peace beneath the shelves of books, you enjoyed getting your coffee’s from the small cafe on the corner in the morning, and dancing with your small group of friends at the club on the weekends, and then Spencer came along and now all those things you enjoyed so much seemed dimmer without knowing you’d see him at the end of the day.
You were frustrated because you knew better than to let someone get close to you. You knew how codependent you became on the existence of another by your side. You knew this. You knew all of this. You knew you were cursed, unloveable if you really wanted to hurt your own feelings. You knew this.
Yet you let yourself get sucked into his sweet words and empty promises, his soft touch and warm embrace. You let yourself believe that things might be different this time.
And god were you mad about that.
But most of all, you were mad about the fact that despite all of this. All of the doubt and anger swirling through your veins and leaving every harsh breath that existed your lips, you didn’t hate him. You were mad at him — so mad, but there wasn’t a single part of you that would ever say you hated Spencer Reid.
Not optionally. If it was up to you, you would go back in time and you wouldn’t have let him get close enough for the line to be between love and hate.
You worried, still. About if he was okay, what he was doing. You hated that. You hated that he had made you soft.
You hated that you let him make you soft.
You hated that you still wanted him to reach out to you, apologise and say he had just been so busy, or say he just needed time after the case. You hated that if he showed up on your door step right now you’d probably let him in without a word — whereas if this was prior to six months ago you would’ve slammed the door in his face and told him to get fucked.
Love didn’t come easy for you. But loving Spencer was the easiest thing you have ever done. Hating him was near impossible.
#spencer reid#reidmania#criminal minds#criminal minds show#criminalmindsfans#spencer reid x reader#spencer criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x oc#bee talks#spencer reid angst#spencer reid edit#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid mm#dr spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid x oc#dr spencer reid#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer Reid x fem reader#spencer reid comfort
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