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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago

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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 2

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

After weeks of all-nighters and cramming for finals, sleeping in on your first morning at the beach house felt incredible. It was only 9:30 when you finally stirred in the comfy bed, but it felt late in the day.

Coming down the stairs in your pjs and slippers, you smiled at the sound of your sister’s voice, joking around with her old friends. Your goal this trip was for her to have a good time, and despite the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Rafe yesterday, at this moment, you were glad you decided to stay. You entered the room to see half the house was awake, though neither Rafe or Tom had made an appearance yet.

“Ladies and gentleman, it’s Kerri Walsh Jennings!” Topper deepened his voice like a sports announcer when you entered the kitchen. The few people who were up all turned to you, playfully bowing and applauding like you were a true Olympian. You grinned and rolled your eyes, surprised at how comfortable you felt with the unprecedented attention.

Topper was at the stove flipping pancakes for everyone’s breakfast, wearing an apron that said “kiss the cook.” As you approached the kitchen island to grab a stool next to your sister, he leaned over, holding the spatula like a microphone.

“So tell us, Kerri, now that you’ve won the gold what will you do next?”

“Well, Top,” you played along. “First, I’m going to get some coffee…then I’m going straight to Disneyland!”

Everyone in the kitchen laughed, making the tips of your ears turn red. No one ever laughed at your jokes in high school, not that you were confident enough to make many. Rafe would tell you sometimes that you were funny, so long as no one was around to hear him admit it.

“Well I can help you with the first part,” Topper said, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.

“Wow, so domestic of you, Topper,” you teased as he poured your steaming coffee in front of you.

“He’s our house mother,” Carter said, smiling wide at Topper who did a jokey little curtsy motion. Clearly this was a running joke between them.

Topper handed you a plate of pancakes, which Kelce promptly reached over your shoulder to steal.

“Since when are you such an athlete?” Kelce asked, his mouth already full with your breakfast.

You told them all about your team at school, surprised out of your mind that everyone was actually listening intently.

Rafe woke up groggy and sore, ducking his head as he walked through the basement and made his way up the rickety steps. As he reached for the handle of the door which opened into the kitchen, he smiled at the sound of your voice on the other side. His smile quickly faded when he heard Kelce interrupt you with, “Yeah and you kicked Rafe’s ass, too, made him your bitch.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Every head in the kitchen whipped towards the sound of Rafe’s voice as he emerged, except for yours. You shuffled slightly on your stool and sipped your coffee. Rafe didn’t miss the way you were ignoring him, his eyes grazing quickly over the smoothe skin of your shoulders before redirecting to anything he could find.

“Cute apron, Top,” he landed on.

“Thanks man,” Topper said, ignoring his mocking tone. “Want some flapjacks?”

“Ew, who calls them flapjacks?” Carter burst out laughing.

“Well now you don’t get any,” Topper scolded, pulling her plate away from her and handing it to Rafe.

“I don’t want ‘em if Carter’s put her mouth near them,” Rafe mocked. “We don’t know where she’s been.”

“Says the guy who licked the gym floor in seventh grade,” you said quietly.

The entire room came to a halt, everyone surprised at the sound of you joining in on the teasing. No one had actually heard you address Rafe yet. The awkwardness hung in the air, all eyes going wide as they waited to see if the notorious hothead was going to be able to take what he was dishing out. You just picked at your pancakes with your fork and hoped everyone would move on, but Rafe smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“That was on a dare,” he defended himself.

When you finally looked up at him, your stomach twisted into a knot as you noticed how cute he looked in his white undershirt and grey sweats, messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. You immediately regretted acknowledging that you remembered something he did so long ago. Now, he was looking at you with something like excitement, smug that you were talking to him, like your big triumph the day before had never happened.

“Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” It was a lie, you remembered everything he ever said or did.

Rafe’s face dropped at your impassive tone, his brief window of hope that all was forgiven slammed shut.

To your great relief, Tom chose that moment to enter the room, drawing the attention away from you and Rafe. He had apparently been out on a run, and his under armor shirt, wet with sweat, clinged to his form to reveal a sculpted chest below.

“How we doin’ everyone?” His cheery voice boomed. He slapped Topper on the back before giving Kelce a frat bro handshake across the counter. “What do we have here?” He whistled appreciatively at the spread Topper had put out.

As Topper rattled on about the many flavors and shapes of pancakes he could offer, Tom looked over at you with a cheeky smile and mouthed “good morning!” You smiled back with a little wave, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he was singling you out.

After the volleyball game last night, you’d all gone to a seafood restaurant on the water. Tom had chosen the seat next to you, and made extremely pleasant dinner company. He asked you all about yourself, about school and what you were planning for the future. He was a great listener, and you were so glad to have someone to chat normally with without the baggage of your childhood hanging over your head. You hoped the week would hold many more cozy conversations with him.

Unbeknownst to you, Carter was watching as you smiled at him in the kitchen, and so was Rafe. They had very different looks on their face as they realized at the same moment that something was happening between you and Tom.

After Topper and Kelce reclaimed Tom’s attention, talking over each other about their plans to go fishing later, Carter squeezed your elbow and motioned with a nod for you to follow her out onto the patio.

“Ummm, okay, what was that?” Carter asked with arched eyebrows once you were settled on the patio couch next to her.

“Oh my god I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, do you think everyone will think it’s weird I remember something he did in seventh grade?” You asked worriedly.

Carter scrunched her brows in confusion for a minute before waving you off with her hand. “Oh, no not Rafe, he’s old news. I’m talking about your little moment with Tom!”

“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat, embarrassed that you were still lingering on Rafe when she clearly wasn’t. “I don’t know, he’s nice.”

“He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is,” she fanned herself theatrically.

“Are you into him?” Your stomach dropped at the thought that she might be interested. In your eyes, Carter always had first pick, and surely if Tom thought she was interested he’d choose her over you in a heartbeat.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m having too much fun messing with Topper.”

You laughed hard at that, “yeah, I noticed. Are you two back on again?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You think if I play my cards right I could get him to propose?”

“I think you could probably get him to do just about anything,” you chuckled.

“Okay, then it’s settled, I’ve got Topper and you,” she poked at your side and you swatted her hand away, “will make a move on Tom.”

“I don’t know about ‘make a move,” you took a long sip of your coffee, suddenly anxious.

Carter eyed you curiously, recognizing the insecurity she hoped you had left behind now that things were going so well. She didn’t understand how you still couldn’t see how amazing you are, but she was determined to prove it to you by the end of this trip.

Rafe did his best not to stare at you through the sliding door, but when he heard your melodic laugh float in through the screen, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped toward the sound, wishing desperately that it was him making you laugh like that. You used to laugh at all his jokes, and he’d taken it for granted. The sad thing was, he actually loved hanging out with you. You had a great sense of humor, and he always felt so comfortable when it was just you and him. He knows now he should’ve just called it what it was, been with you in public too. But he had so many eyes on him back then, and he was worried what people would think. Plus, he knew you’d stick by him even if he treated you like shit, and he took advantage of that. He kicked himself mentally, feeling like a Grade A chump while you sat there, looking beautiful in the ocean breeze, smiling through the window at some guy you’d met yesterday.

As he lost himself in his thoughts, Topper noticed him staring at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“She looks good, huh?” He asked Rafe.

“What?” Rafe shook his head as if he could erase the thoughts that were plaguing him. “Who?”

“Oh, come on,” Topper nodded towards you and Carter on the deck.

“I dunno,” Rafe tried to play it off. “She looks the same I guess, a little different.”

“Bro,” Topper gave him an incredulous look. “She’s a fucking smokeshow. You’re into her, don’t even try and fool me.”

“If you're so into her, why don’t you go for her?” Rafe snapped at him.

Topper shook his head, “maybe because I’m not the one she was obsessed with for a decade.”

“She wasn’t obsessed with me,” Rafe protested. “We were friends.”

“Right,” Topper said sarcastically. “And I was a number one draft pick. Dude, she was in love with you, everyone knew it.”

Rafe leaned forward on the counter, propped on his elbows, looking down at his uneaten pancakes with a frown. His stomach twisted with guilt. Of course everyone knew, he knew it too. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use your adoration of him to his advantage from time to time. Okay, all the time. He couldn’t really blame you for still being mad at him, he was a dick. But he liked to think he’d grown some since then, not that you had any reason to give him a chance to prove it.

“I think she’s into your buddy, Dom, or whatever his name is,” Rafe grumbled.

“First of all,” Topper pointed the spatula at him, “you know his name is Tom. And second of all, I love the guy, but he’s got nothing on you. Give me one day, she’ll be back.”

“Don’t do anything weird, man,” Rafe warned, cringing at the thought of what kind of damage an unsupervised Topper could inflict.

“Don’t worry dude, I got it handled,” Topper assured him.

Rafe just chuckled and sipped his coffee, knowing this was a losing battle, “whatever you say, Top.”

The door slid open and you and Carter reentered the kitchen. Tom stood from his place at the little breakfast nook when you walked in, and you were relieved that he ended his conversation with Maddie and Sabrina so abruptly at the sight of you. He smiled down at you before heading into the kitchen to help Topper clean up. Rafe was noticeably not helping, sitting at the counter scrolling on his phone.

“No phones,” Carter said, swiping it from him.

“Give it,” he held his large hand out to her, jaw ticking with annoyance.

“C’mon Rafe, don’t you want to live in the present?” She badgered.

He tried to grab it quickly, but she lifted it above her head, tossing it to Kelce on the other side of the counter, who tossed it to Topper, and the game of hot potato continued, much to Rafe’s chagrin.

“Y’all are children,” he scowled, sitting back on the stool in defeat.

“Who are you even texting? All your friends are here,” Carter jeered.

“I was looking up directions to the grocery store, seeing as there’s no fucking food in this house besides beer, and apparently pancake mix,” Rafe explained.

“No need,” Topper said. “Tom, Kelce and I are spending the day on the water and we’ll grab some stuff on the way back.”

Carter frowned at the thought of both of your boys being gone the whole day, leaving little to distract you from Rafe. This wouldn’t do.

“No, you can’t go out today, we're having a cookout!” She announced to the room.

“We are?” Kelce scratched his head.

“Yes, we are,” Carter nodded confidently, wrapping her arm around Topper’s waist, which you knew was all it would take to get him to agree. “And mom here is going to grill for us.”

“Oh am I?” Topper asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, not exactly protesting.

“Yes, so someone else will need to go get the food,” Carter continued. You knew her well enough to see that a whole plan was unfolding in her head. “Sissy, why don’t you go?”

“That’s…fine,” you agreed reluctantly, narrowing your eyes at her, trying to figure out her play. “I need someone to go with me though, we’ll need a lot of stuff.”

Carter and Topper smiled in sync, both thinking they’d just come up with the best idea anyone has ever had.

At the same moment that Carter blurted out, “Tom can go with you!” Topper loudly suggested, “Rafe can take you!”

Your lips forming a tight line, you gave them both an exasperated look. Their heads snapped toward each other, eyeing each other suspiciously. Rafe scratched the back of his neck, annoyed at Topper for butting in and hating himself for hoping you’d choose to go with him and not Tom.

Tom, meanwhile, was watching all four of you from the corner of the room, never more confused in his life.

“It’s cool,” he said hesitantly, the awkwardness palpable. “All three of us can go.”

“Fine, but I’m driving,” Rafe stood from his seat. “Can I have my phone back now please?”

He reached his hand to Kelce, who was the last to have it. Kelce panicked, wanting to keep the game going, and tossed it to you. You very nearly dropped it, letting it bounce between your hands but eventually securing it before it fell.

You just looked at it in your hands, then up to Rafe and Tom, searching for any way out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable outing without being rude. You came up with nothing.

“I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you handed Rafe his phone, making Kelce shake his head at you in disappointment.

The hum of the truck’s engine was the only sound in the car for a solid five minutes. You sat in the front seat, Tom having opened your door for you, while Rafe drove. You suddenly couldn’t remember what people do with their hands when they’re not driving. Where the hell do you put your hands? Tom’s voice cut through your internal panic.

“So, uh Rafe, Top says you went to Chapel Hill?” He inquired, sitting forward in the backseat so his head appeared between you and Rafe,

“Still do,” Rafe said curtly.

You looked at Rafe for the first time since pulling out of the beach house driveway. You wanted to ask him why he hadn’t graduated on time, always more invested in his academics than he was, but you were trying to pretend you didn’t care.

“Nice, man,” Tom tried to keep the conversation going. “I applied there, it’s hard to get in.”

“I guess I just hit the books a little harder than you then,” Rafe shrugged.

A scoff escaped you before you had the chance to stifle it. Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“What was that?” Rafe looked sideways at you for a moment.

“Nothing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, please share,” he prodded. You couldn’t believe he was copping an attitude with you.

“It’s just, I’m sure your last name had nothing to do with your acceptance,” you quipped.

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you smirked in satisfaction, pleased that you had gotten under his skin. Tom’s eyes flicked between the two of you, trying to decipher the vibe.

You were glad he didn’t try to attempt any further small talk. Once you got to the grocery store, you divided the shopping list three ways and split up to your designated aisles. You filled your cart as fast as you could, eager to get this shopping trip over with.

After checking everything off your list, you rounded the corner of the produce section toward the registers, your cart nearly crashing into Rafe’s. His entire shopping cart was filled with alcohol. You laughed at the sight.

“What?” Rafe asked defensively.

“What are the rest of us gonna drink?” You smirked.

“Shut up,” he grinned. “It’s not all for me.”

“Okay but where is the stuff you were supposed to get?”

“It’s under there somewhere,” he mused.

“Sure,” you just shook your head with a smile and kept walking towards the register.

“Shit, wait,” Rafe rolled his cart to you and ran back down one of the aisles.

“No don’t worry about me, I got it,” you muttered to yourself bitterly.

You started pushing both carts but Rafe appeared quickly at your side again.

“Got it,” he breathed, adding one more thing to his cart.

It was a case of Redbull. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, looking down into his cart. Redbull was his drink of choice in high school, you used to buy him one every day and bring it to him after practice, like a puppy fetching the morning paper. Rafe eyed you nervously, your soured expression leading him to believe you remembered just as well as he did.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” You joked, trying to break the tense moment.

“Yeah, can’t seem to kick that one,” he replied, relieved that you were the first to acknowledge it.

Tom caught up with you at check-out, his cart actually full of the things he was supposed to get. The three of you unloaded your goods to be rung up by a 16-year-old cashier who could not have been more annoyed that you had chosen his register.

Tom jumped in to help bag the groceries, chatting happily with the bag boy as he assisted. Rafe, however, stood there staring at his phone.

After you finished emptying your cart, you watched Tom with a smile while he charmed the grocery store staff. Rafe looked up from his screen with a frown, stomach dropping when he saw that you were watching Tom with an affectionate smile.

“Is that everything?” The cashier asked hopefully.

You were about to say "yes" and also maybe "sorry" when Rafe cut you off.

“No wait, these too,” he reached toward the shelf and grabbed your favorite candy, looking at you expectantly as he handed it to the cashier.

“Your favorite,” he explained bashfully at the sight of your furrowed brows.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. “Just surprised you remember. Thanks.”

You looked at him for a moment longer than you should, your eyes lingering on each other’s as you shared another silent memory. You felt a twinge of nostalgia that you knew you shouldn’t.

While you and Rafe looked at each other, Tom pulled out his black card and entered it into the machine. Rafe noticed a moment too late and scrambled to pull his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for his credit card.

“Oh no, hey man, I was gonna get it,” Rafe finally pulled out the credit card he was looking for but Tom was already signing the screen with his finger.

“No worries dude,” Tom brushed him off politely. “You can get me back later this week.”

Rafe was the most competitive person you knew, and the richest, surely he wasn’t going to let another guy pay for everything and walk away. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue with Tom, but with a glance back at you he closed it again. Then he carried as many bags to the car as one person could possibly hold, mumbling something like "multiple trips are for pussies."

Another fifteen minutes of painful silence might just make your head explode, you thought. The second you were back in the truck, the bed overflowing with groceries, you asked Rafe for the aux.

“What are you gonna play?” He sideyed you as he held it just out of reach. You leaned across the console to snatch it from his hands, and he felt pins and needles where your hand had brushed him. He wondered if you realized it was the first time you'd touched each other in four years.

The two of you had always fought over the aux, you’d eventually give in to his pouting and listened to his shitty house mixes and soundcloud rappers.

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a grin.

Four years ago, you would have been way too nervous to play what you truly wanted to listen to, afraid Rafe wouldn’t think it was cool enough. But now, you pressed play on your go-to playlist with gusto and beamed when your absolute favorite song started booming through his subwoofers.

Rafe tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop them from dancing back over to you as you sang along happily to your music. You rolled the window down, letting the humid Florida air raise your hair in a wave around you. You giggled and tried to tame it, eventually giving up and letting it whip around your face.

There was something so light about you. Something joyful and at peace. He placed both hands on the steering wheel, trying to ground himself, jealous of your carefree spirit. Whatever intangible thing you had managed to capture in your years apart, he wanted it. And it hit him like a lightning bolt, a bittersweet truth he had fought for so many years - he wanted you.

One song rolled into the next, and Rafe searched for something to say to keep up the almost-friendly banter you had begun in the store, but before he could come up with anything, Tom sat forward suddenly.

“Oh hey I love this song!” Tom informed you.

“Me too!” You turned to smile at him, and Rafe listened enviously as you and Tom chatted about the many favorite artists you have in common the rest of the way home.

The house was quiet when you returned, everyone either taking their daily hangover nap or down lounging by the beach. Rafe’s hands turned white from once again carrying as many plastic bags as he could. You tried not to laugh, and tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged under his tight t-shirt, but you failed at both.

“Are you laughing at me again?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, placing the bags on the counter. “What is it this time?”

“Sorry, you’re just so helpful all of a sudden,” you pointed out with a smirk.

“Well bag boy over there wasn’t helping,” he nodded towards the patio, where Tom was taking a phone call.

“He said it’s a work call,” you defended him. “He just got a job in New York apparently, a Wall Street thing.

“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled. What he wanted to say was “since when are you two best friends?” but he had already been fairly gruff with you today and he was trying to refocus on his goal of getting you to like him again.

You and Rafe put the groceries away in silence for a while. You tried to find the right way to approach the question you were dying to ask, failing to convince yourself you didn't care about the answer.

“So,” you started nervously. “You didn’t graduate this year?”

Rafe’s shoulders tensed as he tried to make more room in the pantry.

“Nope,” he said shortly.

“Did you take some time off?”

He was torn between being glad that you were talking to him and mad that this was the topic you’d chosen to break the ice with.

“No, I-uh,” he cleared his throat. “I failed a couple classes my first year so I’m still a few credits behind.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning down to put the ribs for the cookout in the large freezer.

“It’s my own fault,” he shrugged. “I was an idiot back then.”

When you stood from the freezer to grab another rack of ribs, you were surprised to see Rafe standing close, his body looming as he looked down at you.

“I was an idiot before then, too,” he continued, voice low and uncertain.

Everything in your mind went fuzzy as the blood rushed to your face. This was the first time you could smell him, and it familiarity of his scent made you feel like you were being transported back in time. You fought the urge to inhale deeply, greedy for the rush of him filling your senses.

“Before then?” You blinked up at him.

Rafe struggled to find his next words. It took everything in you not to fill in the blanks for him, like you were back in high school slipping him the answers to a test he hadn’t studied for. But this time, you needed him to find the answers all on his own. You swallowed hard, leaving silence for the words he was searching for.

Before he could find them, Topper and Carter came barreling into the kitchen, mid-argument as always. They stopped short when they saw the scene in front of them. Rafe stepped away from you so quickly you could feel a woosh of wind in his wake. It was eerily reminiscent of your teenage years, Rafe separating himself from you as soon as there was anyone around to see you together.

“Everything okay?” Carter asked tensely, noticing the way your shoulders had fallen.

“Fine,” Rafe said, tossing the rest of the plastic bags in the trash and heading down the stairs to his basement bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Damn, you two did good,” Topper said, admiring the cornucopia of food you’d brought back.

“You three,” Carter corrected. “Tom went too.”

She walked up next to you and lowered her voice, a sly smile on her face, “and how did it go with Tom?”

You didn’t match her playful mood, completely preoccupied thinking about the moment you and Rafe had just shared. Was he about to apologize to you? What would you have let him do if your sister and psuedo-brother-in-law had entered the room just a minute later?

“It was fine,” you said distractedly, closing the fridge and heading upstairs to your room.

Carter turned on her heel and looked at Topper with a frown, shocked to find him beaming back at her.

“What are you smiling for?” She snarled.

“Oh nothing, seems like my plan is working is all,” he grinned. “They were standing awfully close when we walked in.”

“Your plan?” She stepped closer to him, arms crossed. “What are you up to Thornton?”

“Just playing a little Cupid,” he smiled proudly.

“Okay well you can go ahead and put down the bow and arrow, because I’ve already got that covered,” she informed him.

“Really?” He asked in surprise. “I thought you hated Rafe.”

“Rafe? Ew, no, I’m talking about Tom, obviously,” she snapped.

“Your sister and Tom? Nahhh, do you not see how she and Rafe have been looking at each other? It’s so obvious,” he scoffed.

“You know what else is obvious? That Rafe’s still a dick and he doesn’t deserve her,” Carter argued.

“He’s actually grown up a lot,” Topper said, surprising Carter with the serious shift in his tone. “He’s been through some stuff, college hasn’t been easy for him. He could use a win.”

Carter considered this, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the years of bitterness she held for Rafe.

“Well, he had his chance. He had millions of chances with her and he fumbled every one,” she said.

“I know he did, but under it all he’s a good person. And I think good people deserve second chances,” Topper explained.

“Not when they hurt my sister,” she concluded. “I won’t allow it.”

Topper's eyes creased with his smile as he looked down at her, loving her steely look and pursed lips as she put her hands on her hips.

“You’re still so bossy,” he smiled, sliding closer to her until their chests were nearly touching. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but it’s kinda hot.”

He leaned forward to plant a little kiss on her lips, like he’d done a million times before. Carter leaned back, leaving his puckered lips hanging.

“Oh no,” she pushed him back, making him frown. “You don’t get to touch me until you join Team Tom.”

“Nuh-uh! Team Rafe for life baby,” he crossed his arms to match her stance, recovering quickly, more than used to being rejected by her.

She studied him suspiciously, wondering how quickly he’d crack if she actually withheld their inevitable beach trip hook-up. But he didn’t budge, he was as serious about this as she was.

“Fine,” she said. “The game is so on.”

(Chapter 3)

a/n: so tell me... are we Team Tom or Team Rafe?

also, I'm historically terrible at taglists and they give me technical trouble because I'm 89 years old so sorry if I forget you or mess it up but I will tag anyone who requested in the replies because I soooo appreciate your support you have no idea 💘 for notification on when I post fics pls follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs if you're into that kinda thing! 😘

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coquettepascal · 3 months ago

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texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying.

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes.

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones.

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does.

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you.

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to.

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job.

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together.

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point.

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there.

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats.

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute?

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel.

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable.

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing.

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird.

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone.

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars.

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice.

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath.

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes.

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer.

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him.

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself.

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years.

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing.

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this.

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks.

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock.

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him.

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?”

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either.

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers.

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering.

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay.

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you.

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough.

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.”

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out.

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo!joel #neighbor!joel #tlou fanfiction #dilf!joel #reader insert #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Head Canons:

The Hands That Hold You

Yandere Assasin Harem x Oblivious Fem Reader

TW: Somniaphilia, uncomfortable themes, yandere, stalking, mention of size difference, potential of being held captive, cunninglingus, smut, etc

The town of Rellikhold, a peaceful town filled with quirky citizens. Each with a mysterious past and lack of warmth. And you had received a special invitation by the government to live in this new town! Aren’t you lucky?

Poor little you had no clue that this town was filled with ex-contract killers who’ve never felt warmth nor kindness in their life… they were all a moth to your flame. Each one wanting to stake a claim on you, even if it was at the expense of another’s life. You belonged to them.

Callum: Scotland (Florist)

Callum is a massive man with a soft yet muscular build. He has a thick red beard that he keeps trimmed and a mustache he keeps curled up. Callum also has red chest hair and arm hair (the curtains definitely match the drapes). He is 35 years old and a retired sniper. Callum has a heavy Scottish accent and he’s the warmest of the villagers.

This big, muscular red head was shocked when you waltzed into his shop. You were so small and your steps were so clumsy like a newborn fawn. Yet it was your eyes that caught his attention. He’s never seen someone’s eyes filled with such innocence. It intrigued him.

Callum is easily flustered with from your bright smile and warm personality. Yet he can’t help the intrigue he felt from your arrival. From one glance, he knew you were just a regular civilian… what on earth were you doing here? This place was so dangerous.

Yet you’re oblivious to everyone’s past and treat him no differently from a regular man! Your interest in his flowers warm his heart… Callum is immediately taken to you. You’re so cute and you’d fit so perfectly in his arms… he’s never felt this way before.

Callum often looks forward to your visits to his shop. The red head often reorganizes the flowers just to make sure they’re to your liking! Callum always makes sure his beard is well trimmed and his long curls are pulled up into a bun. He has to look presentable for his little lady!

Often lingers around you like a shadow when you’re in the shop. Callum would lose his marbles if you ever came into his shop with a visible wound or bruise. He’s extremely obsessed with your well being.

Callum often offers you his jacket and holds doors open for you, he’s a total gentleman. A gentleman who believes you’re his. He sees no other logical explanation on why you visit him so often. You have to have a crush on him, right?! Don’t worry… he doesn’t mind that you’re shy. He has no trouble taking the lead.

It will take a total of four months until he’s trying to be more physically affectionate towards you. Callum believes the two of you are dating. His large, calloused hands often brush against yours or he’ll grab your waist to steer you in another direction. He cannot get over the size difference.

You’ll often have free bouquets delivered to your house with cute hand written notes. Which are often accompanied by Gaelic terms of endearment. “M’eudail. Mo chridhe. Etc.”

And if Callum ever spots you with one of ten other villagers? His stabs at affection take a turn to be more bold. In his mind, you’re trying to make him jealous… not to worry! Callum will give you more of his time! Whatever you want, he will give you! Even the heads of your enemies neatly arranged in a bouquet.

Callum I willing to do anything to keep you happy and satisfied. He’s the least selfish of the others. If you want to have a sexual relationship with him, he’d be more than happy to oblige!

Callum will have you bent over every surface and even his shop (with the curtains pulled down of course). Just so he can stuff you with his thick fingers and fat cock. He’s extremely giving and he’s more than happy to perform cunninglingus on you.

One day, you went into his shop and were filled with such fright, it made his heart ache!

“What are you so scared for, m’eudail?” Callum husky voice asked. The large man made his way over to your disheveled form. “Has someone frightened you?”

Callum bent down to your level and held your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs brushed a few tears from your cheeks as he shushed you.

“It’s okay, mo chridhe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Günter: Germany (Police Officer)

A tall, muscular blonde riddled in scars from head to toe. His blonde hair is always cut in a military cut and he’s extremely stoic. No one can ever tell what he’s thinking and he hardly speaks. Günter is Char’s identical twin brother and also an ex bounty hunter. The pair are both 29 years old and very feared members in the community from their reputation.

Günter was extremely wary of you at first. He isn’t used to people taking notice of someone like him or being warm to him.

Günter is extremely stiff when you interact with him. He often glances the other way if you stare at him with your pretty eyes for too long. He’s unsure of why his heart flutters whenever you’re around. Günter has never been in a relationship in his entire life. He’s so awkward and quiet around you, but his stoic expression never shows it.

You once grabbed his hand when you tripped and Günter swore he was electrocuted. He was quick to help you up onto your feet as he silently checked you over. His heart thrummed in his chest when you gave him such a sweet, grateful smile. It’s how Günter realized he’s smitten with you.

Günter often offered to walk you home to keep you safe. He’s the least delusional of the others and a rather lucid yandere. He is aware of the difference of reality and his fantasies. Which is why he will never act upon them on you. Everyone else is free game.

If someone upsets you even the slightest bit, they are instantly on his shit list. And if they make you cry or try to harm you? They’re as good as dead. He’s the town’s cop and the most prolific killer of them, so what can they do to stop him?

Günter is very aware of the others’ twisted feelings towards you, especially Char’s. He often hides around the corner as he watches his sister wash your hair. He’s a bit jealous of the intimacy, but he knows better than to be greedy. He’s a cop, not a hairdresser.

He’s usually quite silent but he often shows you his soft side. Soft smiles and tender touches. Günter is incredibly gentle despite his massive height.

Günter would be over the moon if you wanted a relationship of any kind with him! If it’s sexual, you sadly won’t be doing much walking. Günter tries his best to be gentle, but he soon finds himself blowing your back out while he whispers German pet names in your ears.

Günter also secretly has a breeding kink so keep an eye on him. If he’s in the heat of the moment, he will whisper his darkest desires in your ear. Of how he wants you round and fat with his kids with a ring on your finger.

And Günter will not share. So don’t even think about sleeping with anyone other than him or he will make several attempts to baby trap you.

“Meine Liebe, why do you cry?” Günter asked you softly with a frown. The police officer sat beside you on the park bench, his muscular arms now wrapped around you in a hug. “You know you can tell me anything… did someone make you upset?”

You just rest your head on his chest which made Günter melt into a puddle. He’s quick to scoop you up into his arms. “Do you want to head to my home, meine liebes Mädchen? It’s getting dark out and it can get dangerous at night.”

And the instant you nod your head, you’re swept off your feet in a bridal carry. His normally stoic face now had a small smile on it.

Finally… you were finally coming home where you belonged.

Wan: China (Photographer)

Wan is an average height man of Chinese descent. He’s quite feminine appearance wise, but don’t like that fool you. He’s one of the most dominant of the villagers.

Wan typically keeps to himself. Hes not as massive or intimidating as the other men. His long black hair is typically pulled back into a braid and he usually roams the village’s park or beach.

Wan is a bit shocked when he first met you since he can tell off the bat that you’re a regular civilian. Did the government send you as some sort of social experiment to see if their retirement was successful? To see if a group of ex- bounty hunters can integrate into society without a hitch? How peculiar.

Wan often trailed you home to see if you had any attachments to any governments. He didn’t want a government spy ruining his idyllic life and he was not afraid to eliminate you if that were the case… but you were clean! Annoyingly so.

You had simple hobbies and a permanent smile on your face. You were friendly and warm like a dog… like a pet. It made Wan’s mind wander to more promiscuous thoughts. Would you enjoy a collar and a leash while he dominated every aspect of your life? Perhaps you would since you always greeted him with such a warm smile and baked goods. You must have some sort of attraction to him, right? Why else would you bake for an acquaintance so often? (Wan had no clue you did for all of your friends).

Wan often invited you out for walks with him on the beach while he snaps photographs. It’s when you accidentally enter one of his shots that turn his whole world upside down. How could someone be so beautiful?

Wan started to snap photos of you smiling and dancing when in his company but it wasn’t enough. These simple photographs simply wouldn’t do for him anymore.

What started off as innocent photography took a quick, dark turn into obsession.

Wan began to slip behind you in the shadows to follow you everywhere. Whether you were simply enjoying a meal or beverage, or even sleeping, Wan captured it all behind his lens. Wan wanted more! More. More. More. More!!

His photography room was now covered in photos of you. There was not a single empty space left of the wall or ceiling that wasn’t adorned with your being. His darkroom still had thousands of photos developing as well. Wan simply couldn’t get enough.

When Wan found out there were others, he was extremely upset. What on earth did you see in Callum or Günter? They weren’t nearly as impressive as him! Wan was slim and far more flexible. Wan could bend your body in ways it’s never been before.

Wan often snuck into your room to lay beside you. To inhale your scent and to caress your soft, pliable body. Would you freak out if you woke up to see him or would you submit to his desires? This risqué game of his never grew tiring…

If you begin a sexual relationship with Wan, he’s incredibly rough. He has incredibly sadistic tendencies such as pulling hair, choking, licking up your tears, and harsh spankings… but he will talk you through it.

Slender fingers stroked your cheeks as you slept soundly. Wan smiled at how unaware of your surroundings you were. How could someone be so cute?

“Lǎopó, you’re so precious…” Wan bent forward and tenderly pressed his lips against yours. In his eyes, you were his lover. His and no one else’s. “I just want you to be my beloved pet, bǎobèi.”

Wan pulled your covers over your shoulders and over his body while he spooned you. This was the only time you were all his and no one else’s… and that’s the way he preferred it to be.

Amari: Thailand (Musician)

Amari is an amab individual but prefers to go by they/them. The twenty four year old often enchant others with their ethereal beauty. They have sun kissed skin and long black hair that frames a symmetrical face, one would think they were carved by the gods themselves. Yet Amari is partially blind due to their final assignment so they were forced into an early retirement compared to the others. Yet they pretend they’re fully blind to appear weaker to the others. They’re one of the most dangerous of the villagers due to their unpredictable mannerisms.

Amari can often be found in Belladonna’s restaurant playing the khene. Their mystic melody is as intriguing as they are which often captivates their audience.

Amari is incredibly shy and will be startled at first if you talk to them. Yet they’re eager for the companionship. Amari is the easiest to get close to compared to the others due to their young age. If you compliment them, they’re completely enraptured by you. You think they’re beautiful?! You love their music? Amari cannot get enough of praise.

Amari often trails after you like a lost puppy. They will often play the ‘helpless blind’ card just so they can hold your hand. They can’t get enough of how soft you are. Oh what they wouldn’t give to be able to see you… there was not a doubt in their mind that you were lovely.

Amari will play their khene for you and sometimes they’ll even sing. They’re your own personal song bird! They’re willing to perform any song for you so long as you eagerly listen to them just like they eagerly wait for your praise!

Amari will want to spend every breathing moment by your side. They’re stuck to you like velcro and unmovable. Suffocatingly clingy due to them never receiving warmth, Amari cannot get enough of your sweetness. They want you all to themselves.

They cannot stand you giving your attention and affection to the others. Look at them! Listen to their music, you said it was lovely! Just be theirs! Please. Please. Please. Please.

Amari will pathetically beg for your love on their hands and knees. They will use every card in their deck to manipulate you into their hands. They will not share and they will not surrender you.

No matter how puppy like they are to you, they’re a monster the others will not go near. Being involved with them is like being trapped in a spider’s web. You were doomed from the first interaction.

They’re one of the only ones who will stoop low enough to take advantage of you in your sleep (besides Wan). Their mouth is always buried between your legs as you sleep completely unaware of their efforts to get you used to them. They can’t get enough of how sweet you taste. Of how your body contorts and your toes curl in pleasure. Sometimes if the moonlight hits your face just right, they can see your face. And they make sure to burn that image in their memory forever. Oh what they would give for you to know it was them.

Amari pressed kisses up and down your thighs as your back arches in pleasure. So beautiful… so unaware. You’re just like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web.

“I love you…” Amari whispered against your skin, the assassin ran a tanned hand through their long locks in an attempt to reel themselves in. It was easy for them to get lost in the moment, but they needed to be patient. “And I know you love me too.”

Amari pulls themselves away from in between your legs and rests their head on your stomach. A soft hum escaped their thin lips in thought. It was such a beautiful night and they were happy to spend it with you.

Char: Germany (Hair Dresser)

Char is Günter’s identical twin and they couldn’t be more similar if they try. It’s easy to confuse one for the other since Char looks incredibly masculine. The only difference is their placements of scars and her blonde hair is just a little bit longer.

It takes awhile to earn Char’s friendship. She’s quite self conscious of herself since she looks so much like a man. Compliments will win her over and make her blush. She’s quite fond of being called handsome or beautiful.

She enjoys washing and trimming your hair for you. She cannot get over how soft your hair feels between her fingers…

It doesn’t take long for her to fall for you compared to her brother. She’s another sucker for praise, but she gives praise even more. Char is the queen of pet names.

Char is incredibly protective of you, just like Günter. The difference between them is that Char collects little keepsakes from you. Oh yes, she has a shrine dedicated completely to you.

Char is obsessed with you. She collects the trimmings of your hair and any utensils you had used in her salon. She tells herself it’s to keep herself from acting on her impulses, but that’s a lie. She’s simply obsessed with you.

If you ever vent to her about any one in the village, especially new comers, she will get rid of them for you personally. Typically in a rather brutal fashion. Anyone who upsets you simply doesn’t deserve to live.

If you’re ever curious about her past, she will tell you. She’s the least secretive and the most honest. Char will even admit about her shrine of you if you ask. She wants to be an open book that you can read at anytime. Trust her.

Char will often flee to the back room of her salon if she gets a bit too riled up from her interactions with you. If you follow her to the back because you’re worried, there’s no guarantee she won’t have you bent over the break room table with her lips eagerly pressed against yours and her fingers yanking at the waist band of your pants.

Out of everyone, Char is the most obsessed with your pleasure. She’s incredibly giving. It doesn’t matter the time or the location, if you’re a bit moody she will pull you into the nearest room and go to town. Be as loud as you want as she pushes your body to the point of overstimulation, she wants the others to know you’re hers.

“Meine Liebe…” Char whispered as she presses kisses all across your fear stricken face. An expression you always wore due to how passionate of a lover Char was. “I’m sorry I got carried away again.”

You nuzzled into your lover, who only peppered you with more kisses. “Mein liebes Haustier, I love you so much… how about you just stay in mein arms forever?”

Belladonna: French (Chef)

Belladonna was once a renowned poison specialist, hence her name. She’s a tall, slender twenty nine year old woman with fawn brown hair and sharp, feline like features. Belladonna is heartless and cold, just like the deadly poisons she once used. She’s a closeted lesbian and a very open misandrist.

Belladonna is the owner and head chef at Le Jarden. She’s quite prideful of her cooking and she only prepares the best cuisine. Belladonna has a tendency to be quite pretentious and she’s very rude if your French isn’t adequate.

Belladonna does not like Ignacia, to others it looks like she singles out Ignacia a lot, but they have a very complicated past. Belladonna is incredibly critical of others and holds herself at the highest standard. She’s also quite the bully.

Belladonna will chase out male customers from her establishment. They are not allowed in Le Jarden, no matter who they are. (She often gets into arguments with Callum over his floral choices).

If you catch her attention, it’s because you stood up for Ignacia when Belladonna gave the poor woman a verbal beat down. Belladonna immediately takes your defiance as a challenge.

Belladonna will often pick verbal fights with you, but she’s intrigued by you. You were a regular civilian and yet you stood up to her of all people? You had some guts. Plus, you still tried to be kind to her. It frustrated the chef to no end. Belladonna always feels conflicted when it comes to you.

Belladonna’s words often cut like a knife but you’re surprisingly quick witted with your comebacks. She enjoys the back and forth. To her, it’s like a game. And Belladonna wanted to win.

Her hostility increases the more she interacts with you since Belladonna has never experienced feelings of this magnitude before. Belladonna could not differentiate between love and hate. You confused her and made her mind in constant disarray…

You’re sweet to the point you make her teeth rot and she hates it… or at least she tells herself that.

Belladonna hates when you interact with the others! Especially the men (and Amari). She’s much better than them- wait… why did she care so much about what you did?

Your once pleasant words soon become sour whenever she enters your peripheral. You no longer try to smile or wave at her, only scowl. It confused her even more. Why did she care whether you liked her or not? You were just a civilian… right?

You eventually snap sense into her when you tell her you despise her. You… hate her? No… she didn’t want to be hated! No. No. No.

Belladonna loses her mind when you constantly reject her. You won’t come to her restaurant and you won’t accept the many, many bouquets she leaves on your doorstep. Why won’t you forgive her? She never apologizes, so she truly means she’s sorry. Please forgive her, she can be soft. She can be soft.

She will kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised. Until your lungs are nearly out of air and you’re breathless. Belladonna could be your oxygen! Your reason for being! She can do everything the others do, if not more! She has access to various poisons and other plants, some that could take you to pleasures of immeasurable heights! Just let her worship you…

Belladonna will go to extreme measures if you continue to ignore her desperate attempts at reconciliation. And that includes poisoning you so that you’re briefly paralyzed.

Belladonna’s slender hands hold your cheeks as she quietly sobs from above your still form. She knows you’re afraid, but this was your fault! You pushed her to do this!

“All you had to do was forgive me… Je t'adore. Je ne voulais pas te faire de mal…” Belladonna slipped into her first language while the waterworks began. She was so conflicted and confused. Her new feelings were overwhelming and concerning. Belladonna was usually level headed, but when it came to you? She was a dumpster fire.

Belladonna pressed her forehead against yours, her tears now mixed with yours into a long stream down your face.

“Je n'ai jamais ressenti ça auparavant, mais je suis sûr que je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement, ça me rend fou.”

Ignacia: Nicaragua (Writer)

Ignacia always wears a steel mask over her face and completely covers her body. No one knows what she looks like under there and she prefers to keep it that way… she was a twenty seven year old bomb specialist. At least until the accident. Her entire body is now covered in third degree burns. She is no longer beautiful so she hides herself away in order not to scare anyone. Her accident landed her in an early retirement as well.

Ignacia is biromantic and asexual. She’s always been more interested in books than people. Fictional characters comfort her more than real people.

A few years ago, she had a mission to take down a French politician and ended up destroying Belladonna’s secret hide out. Which is why Belladonna despises her. Ignacia isn’t too bothered by it though since she’s the one who received the worse end of it,

Her English isn’t the best so she rarely speaks. She often observes others from the corner of every room. Through the various interactions she observes, Ignacia created a fictional world for her characters in her stories. It was an escape from her harsh reality in the real world…

She’s so shy when you come up to her. Don’t you know she’s a beast under this mask? That she’s not as picturesque as the others?

Yet your kindness makes her knees turn to jelly and her heart leap in her chest in hopes it will escape its prison made of bones. Perhaps you were her chance at real life romance rather than the comforts of the printed texts in her books?

Ignacia is delusional. She overthinks every interaction you have with her. If you touch her hand on accident, she believes it’s because you’re shy! She’s shy too! If you compliment her eyes, she will try to wear masks that show off her eyes more. She’s so ecstatic that she shakes whenever she receives words of praise from you. It’s so exciting! Ignacia is living out a fairy tale romance!!

Ignacia began to build a perfect image of you in her head. To her, you were the perfect princess in a fairy tale book and she was the knight that would save you from the monsters (the other villagers). You were kind and sweet, the kind that needed to be locked away so nothing could harm you.

Ignacia begins to decorate your future home with her! She will ask more questions and bout your hobbies and interests so she can make it all perfect for you! She will incorporate your favorite colors and themes just to make it into your dream space! A pretty cage for her pretty princess!

Ignacia simply wants to keep you safe from harm. She doesn’t want you to ever injure or harm yourself. Her carelessness had landed her in her own predicament and she wouldn’t dare let you suffer the same fate. Ignacia was your knight in shining armor!

“Buenos díaz, mi amor!” Ignacia beamed at you while she handed you some breakfast. You were confused on your whereabouts, but Ignacia simply crinkled her eyes up from under her mask (she smiled). “Did you sleep well, mi princesa?”

“Ignacia? Where am I-“

“¡Estás en casa! !Donde perteneces!” Ignacia giggled as she affectionately pressed her mask into your cheek. Home? What did she mean by home? “Estás a salvo aquí, mi princesa. Para siempre.”

4K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 6 months ago

Text

Mr Steal Your Girl » Lando Norris ft. Charles LeClerc

summary: the little sister of the leclerc’s catches plenty of attention, but what happens when she particularly catches the attention of a man in papaya

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 349,281 comments

ynleclerc: another week of travelling round the world pretending to be the most popular member of the leclerc family ❤️

42,291 comments

username1: you’ll always be the best leclerc sibling imo 🥰

username2: oh to be able to travel around with those three handsome faces

carlossainz55: lovely to see you y/n, same time next week?

ynleclerc: @/carlossainz55 you know charles won’t let me miss a race 😂

username3: you’re the most popular leclerc to me!!

arthur_leclerc: are we just going to pretend I wasn’t racing too? 😭

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc what’s to say this is my only post about this weekend 🤔

username4: you must be such a proud sister y/n!

landonorris: you’ll be my favourite if you convince charles to let me win 😉

username5: lando wtf

username6: is lando tryna impress a leclerc 🤯

charles_leclerc: you always manage to find the most flattering photos of me 😂❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: don’t tell charles but you’re secretly my number one 🤐

ynleclerc/ @/alexandrasaintmleux secret is safe with me 🥰🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 428,903 others

ynleclerc: a few snippets of yet another week with my fave trio ☺️

42,328 comments

username7: I just want to be part of the family too 😭

oscarpiastri: you seem to have forgotten your favourite brother…

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri dedicated post to my fave brother coming up 😂

username8: it’s not fair for one family to have so many good genes

landonorris: you guys are a bit cute 🌸

ynleclerc: @/landonorris we try our best 😇

username9: charles does not look like he wants to be part of these photos at all 😂😂

arthur_leclerc: number one spot belongs to me 🤔

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc whatever helps you sleep at night bro

username10: are we all just going to ignore lando in the comments again

username11: protective brother mode incoming…

pierregasly: stop feeding all your brothers’ fans with these kinda photos y/n!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,392,340 others

landonorris: thank you montreal for a lovely week, a wholesome week doing my favourite things 🌸🏎️

88,321 comments

username12: isn’t that the same emoji he posted on y/n’s post yesterday

username13: move the glass lando!!

alex_albon: something you want to tell me norris 🤔

georgerussell63: well the last photo is a bit of a surprise huh

username14: soft boyfriend lando is back ladies and gentleman

username15: petition for a face reveal asap

ynleclerc: that’s a big smile you’ve got there ☺️

landonorris: @/ynleclerc I just seem to be around someone who makes me pretty happy right now

username16: @/charles_leclerc @/arthur_leclerc come get your sister pls

username17: don’t say it…don’t say it…I think lando and y/n are dating

charles_leclerc: why are so many people sending me this post, what’s going on here sir?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ybffusername, arthur_leclerc and 428,003 others

ynleclerc: the best week with you! 💕🥺

63,291 comments

username18: more pretty pink flowers omg

arthur_leclerc: idk where in the world you are but I expect you back at my house asap

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im not a child anymore fyi 🙃

username19: no one can convince me that this isn’t lando

username20: all the signs point to a certain tanned brit 🤯🤯🤯

charles_leclerc: is this how you tell your brother that you’re with a boy, I refuse to accept this until you let me tell whoever they are exactly what I expect of them

username21: @/charles_leclerc luckily for you you’ll be seeing lando on thursday

oscarpiastri: I second what charles said, as your brother I expected better than this 😡

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri don’t you start as well

username22: if this is true…they might just be the cutest couple in the world

landonorris: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 539,403 others

ynusername: I can be a mclaren girl for a week…right? 🏎️🧡

43,829 others

landonorris: you can be a mclaren girl every week as far as I’m concerned 🥰🤩

ynleclerc: @/landonorris my brothers aren’t happy that you’ve stolen me just so you know

landonorris: @/ynleclerc just call me mr steal your girl 🥰

username23: patiently waiting for charles to appear

username24: don’t tell your brothers, but papaya suits you more y/n 🧡

oscarpiastri: nice of you to come to the better team and support the better brother 😂

username25: y/n avoiding the ferrari garage for the foreseeable

charles_leclerc: um no…you’re a leclerc therefore you cheer for ferrari

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I can support two teams, right?

charles_leclerc: @/ynleclerc no you cannot, why do you even want to support mclaren anyway?

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I think you might no why 😝

username26: charles’ heart secretly breaking as his sister slips away

username27: preparing for lando to tease charles for the rest of his life

danielricciardo: you’re a brave girl…very brave

arthur_leclerc: we’ll be having words little sister

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 1,392,507 others

landonorris: live footage of charles leclerc officially welcoming me to the family 😂🏆

104,228 comments

arthur_leclerc: congrats on the podium finish lando…charles might welcome you, but I’m the tougher brother 😂

landonorris: @/arthur_leclerc I already know that you adore me 🥺

username28: you just know charles is giving lando the sternest warning of his life

username29: are we potentially seeing a new bromance??

ynleclerc: charles told me what he said to you…I’m so sorry 😂

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc don’t worry love, I’ll take the rant if it means being with you 🧡

username30: charles tryna act all protective when deep down he’s the soppiest brother ever

username31: can’t wait to see endless interactions between lando and the leclercs

username32: @/username31 don’t forget brother piastri too

charles_leclerc: you’ve not got the seal of approval just yet norris…👀

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 493,017 others

ynusername: my brothers keep asking me what I see in lando…I’m hoping this post will shut them up ☺️

58,201 comments

charles_leclerc: nothing will ever make this make sense to me 🙄

alexandrasaintmleux: @/charles_leclerc that’s not true, @/ynleclerc you should’ve heard him gushing about lando last night

charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I thought you loved me…that was between us 😡

ynleclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I knew I could rely on you for the truth 💕

username33: please just keep posting more and more boyfriend lando y/n

username34: thank you for feeding us fans what we want

alex_albon: well this is a little bit cute 🤩🩷

landonorris: thank you for finding all my best angles 🥰🧡

username35: how can anyone resist that smile??

arthur_leclerc: stop guilting us into public acceptance 😂

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc idk what you’re talking about 😂

username36: the leclercs are officially my favourite family ever

oscarpiastri: if it counts for anything - I approve ☺️

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri fave brother 🏆✅

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 732,049 others

ynusername: a girl can have more than one favourite can’t she ❤️🧡

84,030 comments

username37: imagine having four people in your life who adore you as much as these guys adore y/n

username38: it’s the all white coordination for me

carla.brocker: I thought that I was your fave 💔

ynleclerc: @/carla.brocker you are…it’s top secret

username39: I don’t think my heart can take anymore

arthur_leclerc: I guess we all just love you so much 😂

username40: the photo with charles omg

charles_leclerc: what can I say? I adore you little sis ❤️🥰

username41: the love between y/n and charles and lando is the sweetest

landonorris: I’ll happily be one of your favourites if it means getting to spend the rest of my life with you 🌸🧡

arthur_leclerc: @/landonorris 🤮🤮

ynleclerc: @/landonorris I can’t wait for forever with you!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,492,503 others

landonorris: officially stole your girl…

104,852 comments

charles_leclerc: I will never let you truly steal my little sister 😡

username42: you just can’t help yourself lando 😂

username43: waiting for the day a leclerc knocks lando out lmao

arthur_leclerc: sharing is caring lando norris!

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im a human not a pizza fyi 🙄

oscarpiastri: you really weren’t lying…mr steal your girl 👏🏻

username44: secretly charles is seething seeing this

alex_albon: that first photo looks like you’ve just been caught out by charles 😂

username45: still my favourite leclerc in the world 🌍

danielricciardo: congrats on cracking the leclercs!!

ynleclerc: you’re lucky I (and my brothers) love you so much 🧡 thank you for the best holiday 🌸

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

2K notes · View notes

coryosbaby · 1 year ago

Text

Life Lessons

Synopsis: helping your best friend fuck your girl can’t be that weird, right?

♡ Content warning . Threesome, pnv, anal (f recieving), degradation, sub! Reader, switch! Coriolanus, dom! Sejanus, creampie, multiple orgasms

Notes: a lil switch! Bisexual! Coryo moment?! Maybe.

Sejanus is his best friend.

Coriolanus’ thoughts run wild with these words, and he thinks consistently and wonders incredibly why his best friend has allowed him to do this— or why Coriolanus himself agrees to this in the first place. Your thighs lay open, skirt and underwear discarded on the bedroom floor, as Coriolanus sits between them. Your cunt is achy and swollen, begging for a cock to fill it while Sejanus lays underneath you. His dick sits throbbing inside your ass as he waits for Coriolanus to slide himself into your wet heat. He waits patiently and coos into your ear as you squirm on him.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Give him some time, baby, okay? Coryo’s new to this, he’s learning.”

Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard that right: Coriolanus Snow, the handsome, perfect, golden boy of the capital, is a virgin. And now, he’s letting his best friend’s girl pop his cherry.

And sure, his ego is deflating right now as he strokes his cock and watches Sejanus’ experience. He’ll get that ego back up, though, once he learns. He’ll make sure he outdoes Sejanus in every aspect— he’ll show him, alright.

He growls at that comment, perceived as a snide remark to the blonde even though Sejanus didn’t mean it that way. His cockhead drips with precum and he rubs over it with his thumb as he presses himself against your entrance.

“Shut up, Sejanus,” he grunts. “Know what I’m doing..”

And obviously, he doesn’t. His cock clumsily slips against your hole, making you whine and clench in an attempt to suck his cockhead into you. His chest heaves and he lets out a frustrated sound. But not before his brows furrow and he’s saying, “What are you doing?” to Sejanus as the other boy tries to reach out and touch his cock over your shoulder. He pulls his body out of reaching distance, and Sejanus rolls his eyes and attempts to grab him again. Coriolanus slaps his hand away, confusion glazing his features. Calmer now, Sejanus holds out his hand and his eyes grow soft as Coriolanus’ face flushes with embarrassment.

“Cmon,” Sejanus says. “Trust me, Coryo.”

And he does. He trusts him so much that he can’t have room to trust anyone else. So hesitantly, shyly, he grabs Sejanus’ fingers after a moment, and settles them around the base of his cock. He moves his hips forward as Sejanus easily finds your hole without even having to look. He presses the tip of Coryo’s cock into you, and his mouth falls open at the new sensation. You look up at him with doe eyes, and although your true love is Sejanus, you’re happy that you can help Coryo take what he needs.

“Fuck..” Coriolanus grunts, shaky, pressing himself further and further into you. “Is it always this…tight?”

Sejanus chuckles, lifting his hips as if remembering the feeling of your cunt.

“Always. Especially with her. She’s always grippin’ my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” And then after a moment, a small grunt sounds from him as he grips your ass cheeks in his hands. “Even back here.. still has such a tight little hole.”

Coriolanus groans, his hips rocking into you. His balls press against your skin, and he’s all the way inside now. But it feels so good, he doesn’t want to blow his load in the next five seconds, so he goes as slow as possible. You mewl against Sejanus as he begins to move, his cock pummeling your tight little asshole while Coryo begins to speed up his thrusts in your weepy cunt. He can’t help it, now. Your pussy feels too good.

Sejanus watches as Coryo grabs your thighs desperately with his hands, and smiles.

“That’s it. Fuck her just like that.”

And god, Coryo knows it’s fucked up but Sejanus’ approval just makes him even more desperate. He grunts as he watches your cunt swallow him whole.

“Coryo,” you cry out to him. “Please, hard. Wan’ it hard in my pussy, give it to me..”

Coryo becomes confident, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah?” He whispers. He begins to pummel you, skin slapping skin, shoving his nose right into your neck, and he doesn’t care if he isn’t giving Sejanus room to move. All he’s thinking about is how good your walls feel wrapped around him. “Greedy bitch wants another guy’s cock in her tight little pussy?”

You moan, nodding your head yes, and sejanus’ hands wrap around your neck suddenly. His cock twitches in you, the sight of his girl getting fucked by his best friend turning him on a lot more than he cares to admit.

“Kiss him,” he breathes. “Kiss him, baby, let me see.”

And of course you obey, your lips colliding with Coriolanus’ desperately, your tongue scraping the roof of his mouth as throaty moans sound from him. His cock kicks, once, twice, and he’s cumming and it’s the greatest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life as he fills you up rope after rope with warm, sticky cum.

Looking down as his orgasm slows, he looks at your blissed out face, the sudden orgasm providing him satisfaction but not quite enough.

No, this isn’t enough at all. He needs to fuck you more, he needs to use you over and over until he trains himself to fuck you long and hard. He growls, grabbing your thighs and pushing your legs over your head as his sensitive cock moves inside you again. From this angle he can see Sejanus’ cock too, slowly but surely rutting into your ass.

“Slut,” Coriolanus spits. “Fucking slut. Look at you, you just love being fucked like a useless little bitch, don’t you?”

You cry out, the sensations too much but you know you still need to cum. And luckily, there your sweet boy is— Sejanus, his fingers reaching around to hastily rub at your clit. Coriolanus grunts, pushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own.

He rubs them in fast circles, and your pussy pulls taut as you orgasm all over his thick length. Coriolanus grins, proud of himself as he sees you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”

Your tongue lolls out, and the man spits onto it as he pounds you, fast thrusts soon giving way to slower ones as his hips stutter and he creams inside you for a second time. He relaxes against your wrecked body, sighing out as he pulls out and his cum spills out of your raw fucked hole.

His eyes connect to Sejanus’, and the boy seems proud but also angry. Coriolanus gets the message to move out of the way, and with strong arms Sejanus lifts up your body and slams you down onto the mattress. His cock moves desperately, chasing the high he’s been craving, and he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he fucks you from behind.

All the while, his jaw is clenched and he’s looking at Coriolanus with a fire in his hazel eyes. He has a bone to pick with him later for taking his girl��s orgasm as his own.

And as he watches the blonde’s cock get hard against his stomach for a third time, he knows exactly how he’s going to solve it.

#Coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow x reader #Sejanus plinth x reader #Coriolanus snow x reader x Sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow smut #sejanus plinth smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic

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skyrigel · 5 months ago

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Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖

You are in love 1 || B.B

Part 2 of " you are in love"

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin

Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut

Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.

" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.

Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.

" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."

You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.

" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.

" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.

" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.

" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.

" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.

Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.

" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.

" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.

" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.

" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.

" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.

"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.

" I called you cute too." He squabbled.

" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.

" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.

" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.

" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.

" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."

" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.

You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.

" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.

" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.

" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.

" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.

" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.

" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.

" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.

" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.

" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.

" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.

" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.

" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.

" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.

" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.

" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.

" Well, someone's gotta teach you."

" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.

" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.

" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.

" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.

" He kissed her already ? "

" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.

" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.

" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.

Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.

" —then you can tell me about love."

Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.

" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.

" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.

You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.

" Love," he began," is like music."

" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.

Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.

" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.

" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.

" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.

" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.

" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.

" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."

" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.

" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.

" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.

Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.

" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.

You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.

" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.

" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.

" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.

" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."

You can hear it in the silence.

It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.

If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.

Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.

" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.

" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.

you can feel it with the light's out.

He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.

He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.

The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.

And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.

And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.

You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.

He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?

More than anything.

His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.

You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.

Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.

Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?

You are my best friend.

Part 2

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lovingjingyuan · 6 months ago

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I wonder: How would hsr boys react to someone trying to take pics up ur skirt? This is an unhinged thought that I’ve thought to long, please cure this weird thinking.

Characters: Avneturine, Jing Yuan, Blade, Sunday, Boothill

Aventurine

When Aventurine caught sight of a creepy man attempting to take inappropriate photos under your skirt while you were dress shopping for clothes, he was appalled and disgusted.

“Check this green dress out. It’s like the color of an aventurine. I think it would look dashing on you” He threw in a little wink with his words, while deliberately trying to divert your attention away from the unsettling situation.

With a reassuring smile he added, “this one's on me, spend freely.” He presented you with the beautiful dress on a hanger, while planning on taking you to the evening ball hosted by the IPC for the executives.

Oh but he makes sure in the background he discreetly makes sure to contact someone from the IPC technology department to delete every piece of data, wiping everything off that creepy man’s phone. He also arranged a few of his IPC bodyguards, instructing them to follow that man so he can deal with him ‘personally’ later.

Jing Yuan

(Husband♡) Jing Yuan is a gentleman. He doesn’t want to concern you with these, wanting to save you the embarrassment and tainting your mind of peace. What truly astonishes him is the fact one of his very own staff members working at the Seat of Divine Foresight is involved in such despicable behavior. Towards his lover too!

“Ahem ahem,” he clears her throat, catching your attention. “Love, could you spare a moment and help me sort out these files?”

As you approach him he slickly wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into his embrace. He just can’t bear the thought of anyone seeing you in such a vulnerable way. Anyone that’s not him :( he loves his darling too much for anyone to be ogling at you.

Without any sort of explanation he sat you down on his chair and covered your lap in a blanket. You’re confused and puzzled by his random action but he’s fuming in anger under his facade smile.

He’s determined to address this issue in the most “legal” way possible. If he could.

Bladie!!!

He would either glare intensely at the point to the point the creepy man would delete the picture out of sheer intimidation. Orrrrr, Blade might just go over and greet them with his sword. As simple as that 🤷‍♀️

His glare alone is a death sentence, especially when he’s protecting his beloved. He loves you very much; just has a hard time expressing it!

Sunday

How could anyone commit such sinful and absurd acts, escapilly towards his beloved! He frowns upon any lewd or disrespectful behavior. Sunday would be absolutely speechless and consumed by fuming rage and disgust, staring at your offender.

Regaining his composer, he approaches you with a mask smile hiding the intense emotions he felt, “Just a moment,” he says, glancing at you. “We mustn’t be late for our outing my dear,” He extends one hand out for your hand. Despite his calm demeanor, his other hand clenched tightly behind his back.

He averts his gaze directed towards the man behind you. “Please report to the BloodHound they will like to meet with you,” he says, his voice with strained restraints.

Sunday hurriedly leads you away. Although Sunday may be a forgiving priest he had limits which that man crossed. He;s immensely disappointed that something like this would occur in Penacony’s dreamscape where everyone is supposed to be and feel relaxed in the hands of The Family. And he’s more upset it occurred to his beloved.

Boothill

he will confront and make a scene cause you're his darling.

Boothill wants to spit out the most profound language but his system won't let him. seeing a man taking pictures of his darling? Fudge no! unacceptable!

"Muddle Fuger, what are you doing?" he tries cussing out the creepy man startling the man with their phone under your skirt.

"Son of a nice lady! What the heck are you doing to my girl?!" He makes a big scene, causing the man to panic because everyone turns their attention to this scene.

he's ready to whip out his revolver and protect his darling. Maybe after this he would take off his hat and put it behind your bum to cover you up as you two walk back from the embarrassing situation.

------------------

I finally finished exams! blah blah blah. I'm bored af summer and I've been play wuwa! I love PGR Roland so I played cause it's from Kuro games. And omg Geshu Lin!!! He looks like Jing Yuan thats why I like him.

Avneturine Rant: Also I can't help this but I'm becoming obssed with Avneturine. I showed my friend an edit of him. she said he's so fine cause she like white blonde men. I'm starting to fall so inlove with him now! Same level of love with Jing Yuan. I can't Aveneturine is too charming. Didn't like him much at first but god his backstory and that mini anaimation how could I be so Blind! Same situtaion with Jing Yuan.

Also gonna update now

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #yandere jing yuan #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #hsr blade #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail boothill #boothill x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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ok i know we always talk about girl dad satoru but imagine boy dad satoru and his lil gentlemanly lessons.

it happens for the first time when you go to take your seatbelt off and get out of the car as soon as it’s parked, but there’s a little voice from the back saying “wait mommy! wait!” and satoru’s nodding like “yeah, wait mommy!” with a knowing grin. you watch him get out of the drivers seat and jog over to help your son out of his car seat before they both make their way to your door. it’s teamwork: satoru opens, and your son holds a tiny hand out for you as he says, “hold my hand mommy, don’t fall!” you walk with satoru trailing behind you both, smiling in amusement as he tells your son “remember kiddo, we never let mommy open her own doors!”

and from then on it’s always a small squeal of “no! mommy stop!” when you’re about to sit down, just so they can jog up and pull the chair out for you and push you in once you’re seated. there’s that routine “after you, mommy!” when he lets you out the door first because it’s always ladies first, of course. there’s always a strict, “mommy’s cold! give her your jacket” you hear thrown at satoru with tiny hands on hips that makes you giggle as satoru shrugs off his jacket with a huff from being scolded. sometimes, there’s a “for you mommy!” before a small bundle of flowers is pressed to your hand as satoru grumbles from the back that he paid, so he should be able to give it to you.

you can’t help but pick your son up every time and kiss his cheeks, grinning as you murmur, “what a sweet little gentleman i have to take care of me.”

and satoru’s always pouting, always standing in the back as he whines out a petulant, “i taught him all that! what about me?”

so you kiss him too—because he treats you just as good, teaches your son to be even better, in fact. and you love your boys, and they never let you forget they love you too.

#:’)#he’s like #‘remember to always tell mommy how beautiful she is okay?’#and ur lil kiddo is nodding in agreement all serious like ‘yeah mommy pwetty’#shorts.

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shegetsburned · 6 months ago

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❝ a man of honor ❞ w. kento nanami 𝜗𝜚.

BRIDGERTON AU⌇

• — dearest reader. this author finds herself bearing the most curious of news, for it isn’t without surprise that the viscount nanami has caused ruckus amongst the young ladies of the ton, upon his arrival. gracing us with his presence, he has not yet announced himself eligible for this social season and, i believe, does not intend to do so. but doesn’t love find itself in the most peculiar of places when one least expects it? • — a/n. let’s just say that bridgerton has, yet again, a hold on me, also, i am in no way an historian nor a perfect writer but i do hope y’all can enjoy this different little piece.

.nsfw.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite himself, had found the need to return to london for a matter of affair and is set on departing as unbothered by the social season as he was when he first arrived.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has never taken his social standing lightly and knows he’ll be the object of many desires considering his status as a seven and twenty years old unmarried man. described as a man of honour, suited for the finest lady, but buried in his work and duties.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who attends most balls, making quick appearances here and there and avoiding hungry mamas at all costs, partially hiding in the gardens or engaging in business conversations with other suitors, always eager to return to his chamber. that was until he found the most beautiful excuse to not participate in any courting competition and declare himself ineligible to the ton. you.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who had found you hiding in the very same place he was, that night. a very debutante, who didn’t feel yet a need to marry. you had approached him in need of advice, not in need of a husband. you knew who he was but had no intention nor expectation for any kind of courteous exchange. you just wanted to know how he was successfully avoiding many of his greatest admirers without breaking a sweat.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who did not give much thought to the both of you talking at first, it was easy and the conversation never felt forced. you did feel like a breath of fresh air. you had attracted attention amongst the men of ton quite easily with your gorgeous smile and attentive gaze, which kento had immediately noticed but when you felt like he was really listening to the words you uttered, you became quite acquainted to the viscount’s presence.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whom you had invited for dinner with your family and was confirmed to be quite the gentleman everyone said he was. well, at least, that’s how he appeared before your family. from across the table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. the way you parted your lips to eat or placed your mouth so carefully around the gorgeous glass to drink hypnotized him. your warm smile and laughter were music to his ears, therefore most of his attention was directed towards you.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whose thoughts becomes dreams in a matter of weeks. your body draws itself in his head. every time you graze his shoulder with yours, his heart flutters. he’s almost ashamed to admit that he’d rather sleep than awaken alone in his bed when he’s been having the most indecent dreams about the gorgeous debutante he’s unable to have. your words resonate in his sleep until they become pleads and moans he wishes to hear.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who despite his title, his honor and even his words, became aware of the fact that he wanted much more than being friends with you. although he didn’t want to burden you with his occupied life, he couldn’t help but boil when one curious man came to your encounter, asking for a dance. you weren’t a fool and quickly noticed the viscount’s name written all over your dancing card moments later. you did wonder how it would look to the eyes of everyone else, but he surely didn’t care.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has privatized your company not only by dancing with you all night during the ball but also by inviting you to his estate in london. it wasn’t long before you realized how occupied he was but also how he tried his best to escape your chaperone and have you all to himself in his bureau.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who loathes the thought of not having you close to him. he had offered no ring nor promises, yet here he was, teaching everything your mama hadn’t. taking away every ounce of purity you once displayed to every other eligible suitor with his careful hands. you could still feel his lips along your neck and his hold around your waist hours after the act.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who truly believes he is a man of honour, even with your legs parted for his hand to explore your most sensitive places with your naked back against the walls of the library of his estate. the sound you make, he wished no other men to hear when it graced his ears, hurrying his movements and developing the most intense of needs. he trailed your back ever so gently to detach and remove your gown with such delicacy it made your whole body shudder.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite engaging in such shameful activities, roams around you, just as before. having eyes only for you and ignoring every little distraction that came his way. the rest of the ton surely did wonder how the most anticipated pairing of the season will officially come to be. many questions lingers in one’s mind when two individuals such as yourselves spend so much time together. had he purposely made you wait to attract the other suitors’ attention and find you as desirable as he did? had he already compromised your integrity and claimed you for himself in secret? he did fancy himself the gentleman, so why hadn’t the big question been asked already?

surely, you did know it wouldn’t be the last time you’d be able to call him "my lord" and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time he’d be able to look at you in the eyes and call you his lady.

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