#sorry pal but you did this to yourself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madaqueue · 5 months ago

Text

EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT

satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.

themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)

a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3

“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.

“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”

“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.

“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”

Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”

You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.

“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”

It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.

“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”

“And how close you were to cumming, too.”

“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”

You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”

“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”

He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.

“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”

His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.

And now, he’s tied up like one, too.

“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.

Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.

“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”

“I-”

“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”

He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.

A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.

“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”

Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”

Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.

A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.

“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”

It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.

“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.

The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.

When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.

Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.

There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.

A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”

A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.

“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”

“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”

You smile.

(You would have anyways)

Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.

It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.

It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.

You squeeze.

“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.

There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.

Harder.

Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.

Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.

Again, you pull your hand away.

Again, he whines.

“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.

“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”

“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”

And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.

Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.

“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.

But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.

(Right?)

“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.

Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.

When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.

He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.

There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.

“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”

The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.

Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.

Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.

Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.

Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.

But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.

This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.

“Please.”

It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.

“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”

The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.

“I know you want to, but-”

“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”

Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.

“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.

Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.

Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.

The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.

Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.

“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”

1K notes · View notes

elysianightsss · 5 months ago

Text

Pen Pal Price Part Two🫧🍑

nsfw ahead so I’ll cut it off at that point…reader is also described as chubby below because I am so they are too lol.

His voice startles you to the point where you visibly flinch, it’s nothing like how you imagined it to be. First of all, you didn’t know he was British. The accent that wraps around his words so sharply is one you recognise but can’t quite put your finger on in this moment.

His voice is deep, rumbles out somewhere from within his chest. It vibrates through the phone and through you. For him your honeyed voice drips into him like the sweetest summer wine.

“Sound so pretty.” You hear him mutter, barely a whisper but definitely something he was trying to hide. Your cheeks burn as you blush hard, your bottom lip caught between your teeth while you think of what to say to the man you’ve been writing to for weeks on end.

So many words exchanged and yet now you’re at a loss. Can’t think properly, it begs the question; how will you react when you meet in person?

“I haven’t got long, I guess now’s the time I tell you what I do for a living.” He chuckles lightly and you wish you could see his face while he does.

“Sounds intriguing.” You frown though your face is still smile stricken.

“Oh you bet it is love. Very dangerous, rough. I don’t think you’d want to hear about it.”

“Excuse me good sir, I live for danger. Did I not tell you how I dangerously painted the spare bedroom the other day? Though I don’t think it went well.” You joked looking over at the room that was half done and had paint streaks pointing in all different directions.

“Are you doubting your mad painting skills?” Your heart soared at the joke, at his laugh, just all of this. Being able to speak to him properly, being able to communicate more easily without waiting a whole week for his response to arrive by post. Shifting through the mail everyday desperate to read his words. You hadn’t felt this happy in years.

“Maybe just a little.” There’s a pause, and you think you hear some background chatter, something about unit leaving and someone definitely says captain, “maybe you could help me?”

“I definitely will.” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer, it’s so sure and so final. It says a lot about him. You’re desperate to know more. “I’m sorry love, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time?”

And he does, you lunge for the phone practically jumping through the air to answer him. You chat about useless things, have silly little conversations about everyday life. There are days when you think it’s his day off work, those days he stays on the phone to you for hours. Those days are your favourite.

He tells you about the new book he got and even reads you a few chapters while you cook dinner, he makes you promise to cook him a meal sometime. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Again he loves the domesticity of it all, how prefect you are in his eyes, though his ocean blues haven’t actually seen you yet. What a perfect little wife you would make. He knows it’s far too soon to think about things like that but he cannot help himself.

The way you fly away with yourself, talking about what you’re doing that day or joking about something you saw on tv or giggling about the cupcakes you were making because the icing went wrong making what you piped look like pigs instead of the unicorns you were going for, for you niece’s birthday party.

He listens with his eyes closed, dreaming of the day he comes back from deployment. The day he comes back to you, to home smelling of freshly baked goods. His pretty lady waiting for him all smiles and giggles. He wishes.

“Um..” you pause unsure, wondering what if he says no.

“What is it love?” He asks so worried. So ready to fix any problem you throw his why. Once again though you hesitate and once more he encourages you, “Come on pretty lady, tell me. What’s up?” You let the nickname you’ve reprimanded him about numerous times slide with what you’re about to ask.

“D-Did you want t-to video call?” He grins at how fucking adorable you are. The way you stutter just asking a simple question like that. He bites back a groan at the way he stiffens in his trousers. Dirty old man.

“I would love to.” He of course then had to explain he had a flip phone. You laughed hard at him and said he would need a smartphone. You had no idea he would go and buy one just to video call you with. Another thing you reprimand him for, spending his hard earned money so easily like that. His little lady nagging him, and all he does is smile at the sound. He loves it.

Your heart hammers in your chest as the phone rings. A lot like the first time he called you. You had talked him through the set up and helped him understand what an app is and how to call on text on a smart phone. And finally, you told him how to video call. Which app to press, you were just explaining how it works when your phone begins to buzz with ‘John💕 is FaceTime you’ popping up on the screen. Your number of course being the first one he added.

You can’t help but feel nervous, checking you look semi okay on the screen before pressing the green answer button. Then your breath is knocked out of you so hard you actually choke, John fussing about getting some water and breathing for him goes in one ear and out the other. You can’t look away from him even as you catch your breath.

He’s nothing like you pictured and yet he’s perfect.

He looks like the kind of man you picture when you read romance novels and the kind of man that sneaks into the dreams that have you waking up hot under the collar and panties sticking to you uncomfortably. The little description of himself you asked for certainly did not do him justice.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” Even though you frown, you can’t stop a smile from splitting your face.

You’ve got chubbier cheeks and thicker thighs than most girls, something you’re insecure about and john can tell. But fuck you look gorgeous to him. Over the next few weeks John catches on to just how badly you feel about your body image, the way you put yourself down in favour of supermodels, the way you wear oversized clothing to cover yourself up. He finds himself grumbling, hating it each second more than the last.

He understands how badly beauty culture has fucked over women who are genuinely beautiful but are made to feel like they’re nothing. He gets it, he does. But he certainly doesn’t agree. Especially not with you. He finds himself dreaming of those squishable cheeks of yours, the way you’re so soft around the edges, he can tell.

You completely did him in last Monday, it’s the middle of winter for goodness sake, how did he know that you’d be wearing shorts when he FaceTimed you. Gym shorts that hugged your plump ass so fucking perfectly, that flashed your thick thighs to him. Christ, he’s been thinking about those pretty thighs all week long. When he’s running drills, your thighs are on his mind. When he’s planning out a mission with his unit, your thighs are on his mind. And when he’s alone at night with his hand wrapped around his swollen cock, your thighs are on his mind.

He can’t stand it anymore, it’s been agonising with how busy he’s been not calling you, not seeing you or hearing your voice. No knowing what you’ve been up to or how your day has gone. He calls and he praises the Lord above for bringing you to him, when you answer. A prayer on his lips, a beg for you to become his wife one day when you’re there smiling in the cutest silk pyjama set he’s ever seen. It hugs you exquisitely, showing off your rounded edges and all John can think about is how he can’t wait to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your tummy.

You’re clearly fresh out the shower or bath with your damp hair and freshly wash face, but John’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, in fact he tells you so. You haven’t felt your cheeks burn the way they did then, well maybe one other occasion.

“Love?”

“Yes John?”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? At that cafe you like?” He’s hopeful when he asks, you can not only hear it in his voice but see it in his face. “I’m in the area for work and have a few days where I’m free and I’d love to see you.”

You can’t recall a time in your life where all you did was smile, but since you found John, you don’t remember what not smiling all the time was like. You don’t remember anything other than how happy he makes you. So you take a breath, you muster up the courage and say yes.

“I’d love to see you too John. Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.”

932 notes · View notes

cum-a-calla · 5 days ago

Text

Moon Fever

Joel’s acting funny, but he is not a werewolf.

under the cut: sweat, being chased in the woods, fear (so much fucking fear), soft ABO dynamics, soft sex-pollen vibes, heavy dubcon/noncon, forced orgasm, Joel knots, implied breeding, fingerfucking, did i say sweat? lots of sweat

A lot of the time, being stuck on an endless stretch of road is… well. Not your favorite idea, to say the least. Even with the day having been nice, and Joel being in a decent mood, it’s still hours spent in his truck. Sitting. Staring. Throwing bits of conversation at him while he occasionally interjects with a grunt or a laugh. It’s not that he seems to mind; he just seems distracted.

One side of the road is a big, grassy expanse, open field that’s occasionally graced by a few trees or patches of dirt, of swamp and thin, rotting logs. On the other side (your side, luckily), there’s a seemingly never-ending wood. The trees are fairly dense, all those green canopies joining together to shade the forest floor and its inhabitants from the late-day break in the clouds. The sun is already on its lazy descent down before any of it can really be seen. It’s been super overcast the last several days. Seeing snatches of sky is more than welcome at this point, not to mention feeling the weak warmth of the dying light.

Joel swipes a big hand over his forehead. He keeps peeking low to look up through the windshield, keeps craning around to glance at the sky.

“Look, if you’re seeing, like… a UFO or something, you gotta have to point that out to me. It would be super selfish to keep that to yourself.”

“A UFO?” Joel looks distractedly at you, half irritated, half completely lost. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“You keep looking around like we’re gunna get abducted by aliens or something.” You half-laugh, waiting barely a beat before shrugging a shoulder. “I mean it was a joke, but my feelings on the subject aren’t a joke. I’d be pissed if you, like… did see one and didn’t point it out, is all I’m saying.”

“You should try sayin’ less,” he mumbles dryly.

“Fat chance of that, pal.”

“Not your pal.”

“Well, that just makes you a liar, Joel.” You side-eye him a moment, watching him take a little breath and nervously flex his fingers on the wheel, his thick knuckles going white when he grips it once more. “Hey, are you… are you okay?”

“M’not thinkin’ so, no,” he admits, avoiding your persistent, searching gaze. A drop of sweat skims down over the side of his face until it disappears into his facial hair. “My mama used to call it ‘moon fever’. Every month, just about, for maybe - usually only a night, sometimes two.”

“Moon fever.” You roll the words around on your tongue, trying to figure it out. “So, you got, like - a disease, or something? Not a disease, a — I dunno. A condition? Something like that? Why’d she call it ‘moon fever’?”

“Moon’s always full,” he says gruffly.

“The moon’s not always -”

“Yeah, no shit, kid. It’s always full during the fever. Fuckin’ gotta listen to me.” Joel sighs and the muscle in his forearms flex as he squeezes the driving wheel again. He spares a quick glance your way, and to his credit, he almost looks guilty. Almost. “Sorry. Jus’ feelin’ irritable.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry.”

“No, y’don’t - don’t need to do all that. I’m the one that… yeah.” He trails off, and that nervous energy remains, filling the car like some invisible kind cloud, thick as cotton, muffling out anything that might make sense. For the first time, you feel a tiny pang of fear in your gut. Joel is being so unlike himself, and even if he’s sick, like… what exactly does that fucking mean? You need him to be solid, to be normal, and those aren’t things you can just ask him to do.

“Every full moon,” you parrot quietly. “So - so, kind of like a wer—”

“Do not,” he interrupts harshly. “Don’t fuckin’ say that.”

“Jesus, I was just -”

”Ain’t a fuckin’ joke. Listen, we’re gunna need to pull off soon. Ain’t staying in the truck. Not - not me, anyway, got it?” Joel turns and levels you with his gaze, and at this point the fear starts to build a little, a trickle of ice sliding up your spine.

“Joel, not to be, like… I know you don’t feel good, but you’re kind of freaking me out,” you say, and your forced laugh sounds more like a nervous scoff. “I’m sorry I said the thing about - um, I’m sorry I’ve been kind of annoying. Whatever you need, I wanna help…”

“I know you do, darlin’. I know you do,” he says, and the strain in his voice makes everything worse. He sounds awful. Sweat isn’t just beading on his forehead anymore - he’s got a sheen of it, and he rubs the back of his hands over his cheekbones, his forehead, running fingers through his hair to get the slicked strands out of his face. “And what you’re gunna have to do is - is you’re gunna have to keep the weapons in here. Givin’ you everything I have on me til daybreak, understand? Knife, gun - all of it stays in here. Locked. With you. M’sleepin’ in the woods tonight.”

“Um - what? Joel, no, that’s so fucking dangerous, and I can’t -”

“You will. I’m gunna be okay, honey, just fuckin’ listen to me. Lookit me. I mean it.”

Joel pulls the truck over by jerking the wheel, his breath heavy in his chest. The vehicle crunches on all that gravel, the dirt and rocks as he slams a foot on the break. The both of you rock with that motion and slam back against your seats, eyes silently meeting - yours, full of fear, confusion. His… what is that? Clouded? He looks like he’s being tortured alive. His sweat has started to slowly seep into the collar of his ratty t-shirt, turning it dark and damp. The cords of his throat are slick as well, cheeks pinked - he does look feverish. Feverish and upset in a way you don’t understand. Seeing Joel like this is throwing you off your axis, forcing you to reckon with a possibility that you’ve never considered before - Joel being out of control of something. He sighs, his chest shuddering with it.

“You promise me now,” he says, staring into your eyes. There’s something wrong with his, but before you can really figure it out. He reaches over to grasp your thigh and his grip is too tight, almost painfully so as he turns his whole body to face you. “You promise me that no matter what I say, you keep in this truck and don’t listen to a fuckin’ word I tell you. No matter - fuck, no matter what I say. No matter what I do. You gotta stay put.”

You stare at him, wanting to nod, wanting to be good for him, but it sounds crazy. You’re scared. Panic rises up inside your chest and you watch mutely as Joel pulls out his handgun, his knife, anything he might have on him. It’s then that it becomes a little too real - you realize this entire excruciating moment, you’ve been waiting for him to go back to normal. To stop being so scary. And now that he isn’t, it’s too much. Your heart thumps in your throat, skin vibrating with fear as he sets his things into your lap. His hands shake, too. Fuck. Oh, fuck.

“C’mon, promise me. Need to hear it. I’m gunna leave the truck, okay? Say it. Don’t got a lot of time before -”

“Before what?” You ask weakly. God, you feel sick to your stomach as his eyes go too soft, sad, pleading with you. “Joel. Before what?”

“Before I can’t control myself anymore,” he manages, reaching for the door handle. He pushes the driver’s side door open and turns a last time toward you. “You fuckin’ lock these doors. Wanna see you do it, okay?”

Just as he asks, you lean over to push the lock, making sure each lock is set, each window rolled up. You slip his knife in your boot almost without thinking, putting the gun in the glove compartment as you watch Joel walk into the trees.

You sit like that for a long, long time, listening to the nothing-silence of nightfall as the truck settles, as the birds stop chittering. It’s just the occasional breeze and the sounds of your own breathing and shifting in the passenger seat, staring off into the woods where Joel walked off long after he’s disappeared. It’s hard to avoid the feeling of being completely alone and spooked. Afraid. Anxious. You crank the seat back so it’s nearly flat and stare at some of the stars dotting the darkening sky, all velvety dark blue now. No hint of sun. How much time has really passed? How long have you been gazing fearfully out that window?

Sleep takes you a lot easier than you think it might. One moment you’re forcing your eyes shut, thinking of Joel alone in the woods, how awful he’d looked. Then… nothing.

It’s a sound. There’s a sound; in your half-conscious haze, you think of that urban legend you knew from childhood - how did it go? Something about a scratching at the car door, a hook hand. Something.

The car door.

You slam solidly back into your body in a violent jolt as consciousness drags you back up from the depths. It��s still absolutely black out, stars and trees and nothingness. A wild-eyed glance gives you nothing - nobody at the windows, nobody scratching at the car door. No Joel. Just you, the cold truck, and the glaring, full moon keeping its luminous eye on the area. It takes very little time to adjust to it, to allow that light to seep into everything and allow you to really see.

And your bladder’s full.

Well, what the fuck are you supposed to do about that…? Joel never covered this in his frantic fucking panic, did he?

Waiting feels impossible. No position seems to help with the sharp, uncomfortable pressure, and there isn’t anything in the truck that could work as a good receptacle. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You stare out the windows for a long moment, anxiety making everything worse. God, there must be hours left until morning. But if you just - if you slip out really quickly, relieve your bladder, and run back to the truck? I mean - he must be deep in there, doing whatever the fuck it is he needs to do. You imagine him somewhere among the ferns and trees and spiders, slumped over, wildlife sniffing at his sweat before leaving him there. It makes your heart ache… but not as badly as your bladder.

Fuck it.

You open the door as quietly as you possibly can, cringing when it creaks a little. It’s eerily quiet as you make your way just into the line of trees, as if anyone’s going to see you. Relief is sharp and instant - you have to hold your breath, holding in that desperate little moan of pleasure as the pain instantly disappears. The finer things in life, right?

Cleaned up and pants zipped, you take a moment to silently step out into the middle of the road. There are so many stars; it’s absolutely breathtaking. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but there’s a special sort of quiet when you stop and really, really look, not worrying about the next step or the next move. It brings you a moment of peace and tranquility. The moon watches you, lit so expressively up - you can make out the hollow eyes, the wide, gaping mouth. The man on the moon, stuck in his eternal howl.

You admire this for a long moment, stuck in the tranquil beauty of it. Soft breeze. Trees waving so gently in it, speaking their own secret language through the fluttering leaves and swaying branches. There’s an intoxicating feeling of knowing the universe, being one tiny thing surrounded by an endless expanse of other tiny things, thrumming on one of a billion vibrational wavelengths to create the larger fabric.

There’s a tiny rustle off to the side and, expecting to see a deer, or maybe some raccoons, you’re absolutely floored to see a man.

Not a man - Joel. He’s nude, his flushed, strong body glistening with sweat. He’s covered in it, shining like some horrible beacon in the middle of the grass, and even from this distance you can see his chest heaving. The shock that paralyzes you to the spot is followed by abject fear, eyes wide and mouth open. Of all the things you’ve seen, of all the horrible situations you’ve encountered together, this is the most fear you have ever felt in your life. It rushes up into your head like static, making a home there like so much white noise as your blood roars in your ears.

He takes a few steps forward and you tremble there, hearing his ragged breath as he gets closer. His - oh, god. His cock is hard, pulsing, heavy as it bounces with each forward step he takes. He takes a ragged breath and almost looks like he’s glaring at you, face contorted in some awful mix of agony and anger, something… something else too horrible to name.

“Tol’ ya,” he slurs, voice slow. He licks his lips, moaning, his cock twitching. “Tol’ ya t’stay in the fuckin’ truck, didn’t I?”

That’s enough. He comes within a couple yards and the fear overtakes you in a way that makes your limbs tremble with adrenaline, your breaths coming in hitched, desperate gasps as you pound pavement. Pavement gives way to dirt and brambles and rocks, running blindly into the woods.

Should have locked yourself back in the truck.

Reason leaves you in a hot rush, replaced only with the hot, throbbing fear of a prey creature, and to your growing horror you hear his footsteps behind you somewhere. Running after you. You don’t dare glance back, ignoring the urge to - you can’t afford to fall. You just have to keep going.

It hurts - there’s a stitch forming in your ribs, a sharp ache as your muscles scream at you to slow down, to stop, to take a proper breath. No time. There’s nothing in the banner of your mind except RUN RUN RUN KEEP FUCKING RUNNING, ESCAPE, HIDE HIDE HIDE.

Eventually, the manic rush of adrenaline wears down enough that your body can’t keep running. You tuck behind the thick length of a tree in all that dark, slumping down to sit as you cover your mouth with both hands. It’s hard to breathe softly - it’s fucking near impossible, so you do what you can, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Isn’t that the thing? Fuck, who cares. As long as you can draw the breath slowly, as quietly as you can. The birds are quiet. Sleeping. There’s only the natural sounds of the woods, the random shivers of wind and breaking branches, a rustle here and there. It’s so fucking quiet. You can’t hear Joel anymore - the paranoid thought that he’s near enters your mind with every random snap or break or crunch in the woods, but he’s so big, so powerful and… so rabid right now. So unlike himself. You’d know, right…? Your heart beats in your chest, the rhythm so quick, so uneven. You can hear it in this weird silence, along with the gasping little breaths you take. Trying to be so slow and quiet is hard when your chest aches like this, when every single fiber of your being is begging you to keep running, to rush, to protect yourself. You close your eyes and drop your head slowly back against the trunk of this tree, trying to trick your body into calming down.

Time is weird. It feels like minutes crawl by in the relative silence, and your body gets used to each little sound of the forest. You find yourself relaxing as much as you can given your situation - heart rate going down, finding it easier to breathe. That awful stitch in your ribs finally eases up, your eyes get used to the stark darkness. It almost feels like whatever happened was a fever dream of your own. Joel would never - he… he wouldn’t.

You think back quietly, the eyes in the back of your brain roving over the image of him in the field, walking toward you, shining with sweat. Utterly naked and hard. The sight of him throbbing like that, being so shocked you could see the twitch of his cock, even from that distance, just by the light of the moon. His expression - and in your mind’s eye, it doesn’t look as feral. It looks helpless, it looks… hungry, yes, but… desperate.

“You - mmmh, I -”

The sudden voice makes you scream into all that cloying darkness, heart stopping in your immediate, panicky fear, and that scream closes up into an awful sound from your choked throat. All those muscles tighten up and it’s almost like a terrible little whistle as he grabs you, shoving you back down into the dirt, the leaves and grass and ferns.

“Told you. Told you, darlin’, fuckin’…. oh, fuck, I told you, I told you to s-stay… stay ‘way from me,” he moans, and it’s almost like he’s begging as you make his face out in the dim, still so sweaty, his eyes practically glowing. He looks just the same as before, like he’s a slave to…. to the - what did he call it, again? The moon fever. Fuck. He groans and grinds his hips between your thighs, terrifyingly hard as he fits himself there by force, holding your wrists down in his bruising grip, gasping his breaths. A drop of his sweat slides down his forehead and patters over your face, on your cheek. “Shouldn’t’ve - why… why’d you run?”

He moans as he leans down and buries his nose into the nape of your neck, skimming it up your throat. It’s followed by his tongue - he smells you, tastes you, the sound he makes so tortured and erotic it makes you shudder underneath him.

“Joel - Joel,” you whimper. “You’re not - it’s just me, it’s me, it’s - why are you -”

“Mmm, I know, honey, I - oh, I know, I know, I’m ssooo s—so fuckin’ sorry,” he says. He bites into your shoulder and there it is, his hard cock rutting between your thighs. You scramble to back away, to escape it, but he puts his big, strong hands on your hips and yanks you violently back underneath him, working at forcing your bottoms off. “M’sorry. Sorry, baby, I - ohhh, I’m… ohh yeah, I’m… sorry…-”

Kicking does nothing. He’s so fucking strong, and before you know it, he’s moaning against your collarbone, shoving his rough, thick fingers into your cunt. He works them in, his tongue on your skin, rubbing and searching until he discovers the pillowy little spot that makes you clench. You’re near tears at this point, useless in your struggle, shaking underneath him while he sucks little marks into your skin.

“All fuckin’ wet for me,” he groans. “C’n smell ya - that’s how I found you, honey. Could smell ya anywhere, your wet little pussy. So pretty, so fuckin’… wet… tight… mine.” Each word punctuated by the brutal thrust of his fingers, stretching you just a little bit, just enough that it feels too rough, too painful.

His lips pull away from your skin with a wet pop, the scrape of his teeth making you whine. He grabs your hips and ducks down, his shoulders undulating like a creature’s as he settles his scratchy face between your thighs. He buries his mouth against your cunt, licking, moaning. He devours you there even though you’re whining for him to stop, to let you go.

Those words melt off - all your “Joel please fucking don’t Joel please Joel you can’t you can’t”s turn slowly into a mantra of his name, over and other til you’re breathy and moaning with him. When did that happen? When did you stop struggling and start threading your fingers into his graying hair, gripping it, hips twitching under his hands as he rubs the pads of his thumbs into your willing flesh?

Sooner than you might think, you’re starting to scream - it feels like he’s making you come apart cell by cell, atom by atom, that horrible heat winding down your guts and into your pelvis until it grows too big to hold inside of yourself. His desperate, mindless lapping, his hands making bruises into the meat of your thighs. It’s too much - you have tears in your eyes and then it’s like you’re (howling) shrieking into that black, dark night, pulsing down hard on his beckoning fingers.

“Hurts,” you sob. “Hurts, hurts…”

“I know. I know, honey, I fuckin’ know. Just gotta - mmmm, gotta be brave, j’st - lemme -”

Wait - be… brave? What - what does that fucking mean? Panic blooms into your chest as your climax starts to fizzle out, all that heavy breathing turning into the same panicked, high-pitched, whining kind of gasping you’ve been doing since you saw him in that fucking field. Joel pulls you toward him, grunting, naked from the waist down with your shirt rucking up as he drags you. God, he’s drooling, making the most terrible, longing sounds from deep in his chest as he grabs you and forces you around to your belly, hauling your hips up into the air for him.

“Joel - no, no,” you say, and to your horror, you just can’t be loud enough. Everything else is louder - the scrape of the forest floor under your hands as he forces you into the position he wants, his labored breaths, growling, like the effort of it is breaking him apart, too. Maybe it is. It makes everything worse, one of his big hands creeping up the front of your shirt to paw at your tits, rutting his cock between your thighs. God, it’s so hot against your slippery folds, his calloused fingers too rough on your nipples.

He seems to envelop you as he reaches back to notch the fat, leaking tip of his cock against your hole. He rocks his hips in this barely controlled rhythm, working himself deeper and deeper and god, he’s big. Thick, stretching you open in his manic sort of thrusting, and your stomach lurches as you realize that he’s trying to be gentle. He’s barely hanging on to himself. He moans and gasps as he fucks your pussy open, and once he’s fully seated, the pain really comes. He rears back and slams it home, again, again, heavy balls against your clit with each pass.

“Fuck - oh, fuck, darlin’, so… goddamn tight…” Joel nuzzles his nose down against your shoulder blade and inhales your scent, the sound he makes so nakedly erotic it makes you clench around him again. He grunts and pauses for a moment before resuming his pace, pounding into you, the hand up your shirt reaching further to hold you by the throat. “Y’mine, you know that? Only mine. M’gunna make sure you - fuck. Oh, fuck. Gunna give you all of me.”

Joel reaches his other hand between your thighs, and there he is, holding you against him like a hostage. Hand on your throat, his fingers pressed right up against your pulse there, and wouldn’t you fucking know it - his other hand snakes right over your mound, fingers delving between those plump, spread cuntlips to circle your clit. He’s frenzied, but not clumsy - he knows what you like. It’s jarring at first; too much too quickly, his cockhead nudging up against your cervix with each roll of his hips.

“Needja to cum, honey,” he manages to whisper, and it’s a wonder he can do that at all with all the sounds he makes. “Seen ya do it like this. Mmm? I - ah, f-fuck - I know you’re already gettin’ close. Don’t lie to me, now.”

You make a tortured sound, the pit of your stomach swirling with a special, sick kind of fear. His fingers trace fire into your flesh, willing or not; he’s absolutely fucking right. You’re going to cum on his cock, no matter how much it hurts, how afraid and helpless you are.

“The - the fuck does that mean, Joel?” you ask desperately. You sound just as angry as you feel. Betrayed. It comes out cracking and pathetic all the same, drawn high and useless as he splits you in half. God, holding your breath doesn’t even help. You’re going to cum - it’s only a matter of time.

“Don’t fuckin’ be like that, “ he growls, his breaths coming ragged. “M’not as stupid as ya think, not - not… ohh, not even close. All those times y’thought I was sleepin’, hmm? Yeah? Whimperin’. Hand down between these thighs… whispering my name, like I’m goddamn deaf. Heard you loud ‘n clear, honey. Y’let me take care of you.”

As if to drive his point home, Joel changes both the angle at which he fucks into you and the rhythm of his fingers, forcing an unexpected gasp from your throat that exhales into a loud, keening wail, so exquisitely erotic that he holds himself flush to your body for a moment, cock throbbing, and it’s those aching little throbs that shove you over the edge along with everything else. True to his word, Joel knows what you need, and he forces you to cum. The pleasure crashes down like a tidal wave, molten and overwhelming enough to white you out behind the eyelids for a moment. It’s incredible. Your body ripples and contracts and squeezes against him, all that hot pink velvet flesh wrapped around his thick cock, and he kisses along your back where he’s shoved your shirt nearly off your body. His lips trace patterns of fire over your exposed skin, wet, open-mouthed kisses between your shoulders.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is more of a rumble against you as opposed to a voice; so low, deep, rabid. Curses fall from those lips like a font, and there it is - he’s so engorged it hurts, and it must be the combination of your overlapping climaxes. It’s almost painful, and then it keeps going. The stretch, the feeling of him expanding impossibly inside of you as he pumps jet after jet of his seed inside, hips twitching, holding you close as he humps forward.

“Joel - fuck, it - it fucking hurts, please…”

“I know. I know, I know, I know, just… hold on, babydoll, let me…” he trails off, dragging his tongue up your spine as he moans. “Don’t move. Don’t you move. Be so still f’me.”

The pressure in your cunt reaches a point that is actually painful, too filled, and a new sort of fear fills you as you struggle with it. Joel keeps… expanding, his cock getting thicker, thicker, stretching you so that it burns.

“Joel, I can’t,” you gasp, trying to pull away. He keeps his hands firm on your hips, groaning and yanking you back so you remain flush against his body, his hips rocking so softly. ”Why does it - fuck, it fucking hurts, it hurts!”

“Few minutes,” he grinds out, holding his breath just as much as you are. “Just a few minutes. Stay still. I mean it. Gunna hurt us both if you keep fuckin’ squirmin’ like that. It’s gotta take.”

“It’s gotta —” Your mind races in that moment, with the pain of his enormous cock, the way it just seems to get bigger and the way you want to pull away from it even though it hurts so fucking badly to try. “Take? Joel, what - what does that mean?”

Joel shushes you, his scratchy facial hair, his lips on your hot, sweaty skin, and he licks you, he tastes the salt of your body and moans, one hand fixed firmly on your hip. There’s going to be bruises there, later, proof of his strength, his utter control of you in this moment. You shake underneath him and make the worst little noises, somewhere between a sob and a whimper. Like a kicked dog. You just want it to stop.

“Y’know what it means, darlin’. Almost done. Fuck… y’so tight, baby. How you been keepin’ this from me all along, huh?” Joel hums and you can feel it against your body, the low rumble of it like a living force as it finds a home in your ribcage, all the way down from where your back meets his chest to where his cock is still buried immovably tight in your cunt. All his cum caught inside, sealed… taking. He seems so calm now, so drained. Like he got all the poison out. “Mmmh - there we go. There we fuckin’ go.”

His cock seems to finally soften, finally releasing all that pent-up pressure, the pain, the aching stretch. Both of you make these little sounds of relief as you can ease the physical tension and he’s finally able to slip out of your body. Your first instinct is to keel over and roll to your back, sticks and stones and dirt be damned. You pant there, legs spread, and Joel looks… like Joel. He’s still sweaty and still very, very naked, but he doesn’t look scary anymore. He looks like him, his brow pinched in his way as he looks down at you. There’s a secret sort of sorrow in his expression, and despite it all, your only impulse is to reach up and take his scruffy face in your hands. You manage to coax him down and kiss him on the lips - surprisingly soft, yielding. He moans a little, but it’s less sensual and more longing. Like he’s wanted this part all along. Wanted your gentle warmth, your comfort. Your brush your thumbs over his cheekbones as you kiss him like that, chaste, no tongue. Just tenderness. You rub the pad of one thumb over those worry lines between his brows, down over the bridge of his nose as you kiss.

Joel reaches down to gently push his fingers inside of you. You’re sopping, dripping with his cum, your poor little cunt all sore and wet and aching from all of that.

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he murmurs against your lips. “Didn’t wanna hurt ya. Swear.”

There’s a little stretch of silence as you kiss and he slowly, lovingly fucks his cum deeper into your body with his fingers. He’s so gentle - there’s no real goal, no end point. Just Joel, just his rough, thick fingers being as kind as they can be inside your sensitive body. Just the two of you. The sweat starts making you cold and Joel pulls away, helping you brush off and work your clothes back into place as you awkwardly make your way back to the truck to sleep. He’s got a blanket in there, and on the way to the vehicle, you catch him glaring at the moon. He looks beautiful, even in all his exhausted anger. The lines in his face. The drawn, tired eyes. His chest, his body. Everything about him is beautiful - does he even know that? You don’t have the heart to tell him. Not now.

For now, all that exists is his big, warm body, the nook you settle in where he wraps his strong arm around you so you can lie on his chest in the bed of the truck, covered in a couple blankets, listening to the insects start up again. The big, fat moon now has a sliver of dark on its edge.

#well well well #look who finally posted #it’s me. i posted #anyway whatever i love a good woodsy chase #joel miller smut #tlou smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x you #tlou #tw dubcon #not a werewolf fic #i’m not lying i actually hate werewolf shit but i do like to be… what is it. cheeky? yeah #prey play #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #k love yoouuuu

426 notes · View notes

sloaneispunk · 3 months ago

Text

“a real man”

dbf!in-ho x you

when a family party takes place, you finally met the one and only hwang in-ho, your father’s best friend. when unsettled disputes take place, you find shelter with the man who was thrice your age.

“y/n, get the door will you?” your dad asked, taking the plates from your hands as you made your way to the front door.

you yanked the door open, mumbling under your breath. why did he have to throw this party anyway? it’s not like it was the first time you were home, why was he making such a big deal out of it?

“hey, sweetheart. is your dad home?” a man said.

you took a good look of the man that stood before you in the doorway. holy shit.

“in-ho! there you are! was starting to think you were ditching your old pal!” your father’s voice boomed from behind you, pushing you away from the door as he took your place, inviting the unfamiliar man in.

“it’s good to see you too, man.” he chuckled.

“i’m assuming you’ve met y/n?” your father introduced, stepping aside, revealing your confused face.

“i did…” in-ho nodded, “quite a pretty one.”

a blush crept onto your cheeks. “thank you.”

“polite too? you raised her well.”

“of course i did. don’t know what her mum’s been teaching her though, been a little angsty lately.” your dad revealed, making your eyes grow wide.

“can we not do this now?” you gritted, glaring at him.

after that, you never saw much of in-ho, being cooped up in the house while everyone was having the time of their lives outside with your dad in the party that he had organised for you.

eventually, you grew bored, grabbing a drink and hopping onto the kitchen counter as you watched the party unfold in the backyard with your father.

“hey, what are you doing here?” in-ho’s gentle voice rang in your ears, snapping you out from zoning out.

“these aren’t even my friends, they’re my dad’s.” you said defeated, peeking at the ongoing party outside.

“guessed it. didn’t think you’d be friends with all us older men.” he joked, making you chuckle, shaking your head. “you know, if it’s not pushing your boundaries, can i ask-why did your dad throw this get-together again?”

“i’ve been living with my mom for a few months, today’s the first time i’m back in awhile.” you told him. “oh, i’m sorry, do you want a beer or something?”

“don’t be silly, kid. this is your party, i’ll get it myself.” he smiled.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence as he leaned against the counter beside you, giving you the silent company you needed.

“you know for what it’s worth, i think you look beautiful.” in-ho broke the silence, turning his head slightly to face you.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” suddenly, he felt a sense of pride overwhelm him. he couldn’t possibly grasp the thought of you finding him attractive as he found you. afterall, he was almost thrice your age.

when it was finally time for a sit-around at the dining table, you were way out of your comfort zone. eyes burned holes into you from every angle, giving you no space for privacy whatsoever.

“so, y/n… youe dad tells me that you’ve been living with your mom?” a friend of your father’s questioned.

there we go. “uh, yeah.”

“how’s it like there? she any better than your dad?” he teased, making your father let out a low laugh as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“c-can we don’t talk about this-”

“of course it is!” youe father interrupted. “couldn’t even get her to come over for a good few months, must have been really great.”

only in-ho noticed you were in distress, your breathing getting faster as your leg shook under the table. testing waters, he placed a hand on your thigh under the table, hoping to give you some stability to get through the dinner.

when you felt his warm hand on your thigh, you jerked away initially, thinking that it was one of thise old creeps who had touched you. but upon realising that it was only in-ho you shifted closer to him. as if you were silently begging for his help.

“we can all be gentleman at this table, let’s not give the lady any trouble, huh?” in-ho had intervened, anger slowly building up inside of him as they continued to press you with uncomfortable questions.

“hey speaking of your mom, she ever bring anyone home recently? like a colleague? maybe a friend?” you father asked.

“no.” you stated bluntly, you could already feel your eyes being welled up with tears.

but it didn’t stop there, you father as well as his friends made no effort to stop their interrogation.

eventually, you broke, letting the tears spill onto your lap as you tried your best to play it off without drawing anymore attention to yourself, but it was in vain.

“kid, are you cryin’?” one of them laughed, catching the attention of the rest.

“she is!”

“why are you crying, little girl?”

“do you want your mommy?”

in-his fist grew tighter around the handle of the fork he was holding, he couldn’t sit there and watch as you were being tormented by these sick bastards.

“boys, that’s enough!” he suddenly yelled, causing the room to go dead silent.

without another word said, he stood up, his chair scraping ear piercingly on the wooden floor as he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the table and out the front door.

luckily for you, in-ho was only staying a couple blocks down, no more than a good three minute walk. the whole time, he said nothing, only changing his grip on you from the hand to your waist, leading you to his porch.

when you got to the doorstep, you stopped on your tracks, making him turn around, quickly taking a quick scan of your face to see if he had hurt you on accident.

“hey, talk to me, what’s wrong, love?” he asked in a soft tone, as if he were talking to a little girl.

“i can’t be here.” you said, looking up at him teary-eyed. “my dad will kill me.”

“nonsense… i won’t let him lay a hand on you, i promise. it’s better to stay here than with all the rascals there anyway.”

you winced at his harsh words, reminding you once again of the conversation at the dinner table.

“let’s not think about any of that anymore, alright? come in, you must be exhausted too, pretty girl.” he said as he ushered you inside.

in-ho’s house was warm. it smelt like him, the dim yellow lights bluncing off the perfectly decorated walls of his home. it was so quiet, just perfect.

“here, you can change into this. make yourself comfortable.” he said as he offered you a shirt and sweatpants which looked like it was his.

you thanked him and headed to the bathroom to change out of your clothes. when you were returned bacm to the living room, he was already on the sofa, legs spreaded out cozily as a tv programme played.

“there you are, do you have anything you wanna do in mind?”

‘no’ you shooke your head.

“then why don’t we just stay here and watch some movies. how does that sound?”

a smile broke on your face, making him feel a sense of relief. but to his surprise, you didn’t take just any emoty end of the sofa. you shuffled up close to him, merely centremeters away as he could smell your perfume that hadn’t worn off. it was driving him crazy.

as the two of you sat in silence, watching the show, in-ho noticed how your head was starting to fall closer and closer to his chest. he took a peak, seeing that you were now barely awake, struggling to keep your eyes open. he chuckled, pulling away, making your slowly open your eyes and lifting your head.

“no, no, stay there.” he cooed, moving closer in a more snug position for the both of you. and wirh his signal, you laid your head on his chest, your body and legs curled into a ball as he draped his arm over you while the other found its way to your hair. he combed through the soft, lush strands, lulling you to sleep as he did so.

“goodnight, y/n.” he whispered before leaning down carefully, placing a kiss on your forehead, watching as you tried to snuggle up closer to him.

in-ho knew he was doomed. it was a dangerous game he was playing with his best friend’s daughter. but at that moment, he realised just how bad he had had it for you. and there was no turning back.

#frontman #frontman x reader #frontman x you #hwang inho #inho x reader #inho x you #squid game #squidgame season 2 #lee byung hun x you #lee byung hun x reader

630 notes · View notes

clare-875 · 4 months ago

Note

OMG, I SUUPPERRR Love the "New Names" Prompt, it was actually what led me to your blog here, the last 3 parts were a blast to read, so I was wondering if you could maybe do a part 4 that includes Kidd, King, Katakuri, and maybe 2 or 3 characters of your choice?

New Names pt.4 (Kid, Katakuri, Smoker)

_____ Pairings: Kidd x Reader; Katakuri x Reader; Smoker x Reader Summary: His reaction when you call him pal, buddy, etc. Warnings: Mostly Fluff, Female Reader A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't watched One Piece up to where King is introduced so I added Smoker instead (I couldn't think of any other characters)! I'm so glad you like the series! [One Piece Masterlist] [Part 1: Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Law] [Part 2: Shanks, Sabo, Crocodile] [Part 3: Corazon, Killer, Mihawk, Penguin] _____

- Kid -

(A/N: Suggestive towards the end?)

When you decide to play a small prank on your boyfriend it is only later that you find out the consequences you should've regarded beforehand. But in the moment you were too giddy to care. You had finally thought of something not too bad that Kid would kick you off the ship but noticeable enough for him to react. So, when your eyes spotted your boyfriend's signature red hair and permanent frown, you had to struggle to keep the grin from spreading on your face.

You just had to see it through until the end.

He had sauntered in as always, eyes sharp and broad shoulders slouching, his gaze darting to you so subtly you'd have to be an expert to witness it. You are in an open space - the deck of the ship - and so he barely gives you any sign of intimacy but he always prefers to linger by your side. He seems irritated as you had not been beside him for long today, and you soon find out your thoughts are right by his prompt words.

"Babe," his voice is deep in the air but gritted against his teeth. "Here you are, I fucking searched the whole ship for you."

You fight to roll your eyes at his impatience but you concede to the plan you have set out for yourself and reply.

"Sorry buddy, I should've let you know earlier I'd be on deck."

And all of a sudden, you could hear a pin drop.

Promptly, it's like the ocean waves that crash against the ship go silent along with the restless wind in the sails. Your crewmember's voices hush to nothing as they eye you and your Captain, unsure of whether to laugh or cry at your words. All they know is that you are fortunate to be his girlfriend because partner or not, Kid would likely throw anyone off the ship if they called him buddy.

His expression does nothing to hide just that fact.

He had frozen still, his eyes had sharpened deadlier than usual, fists clenched to his side and face darkening. You can see the twitch of his eyebrows and the tensity of his form but are most surprised to see a slight pink hue on his cheeks. Was that embarrassment?

Despite the "dangerous" atmosphere, you have to fight back a laugh.

"Are you alright, buddy?"

Your crew members gape at you, some shaking their heads to try and stop your words. But you are bold. Of course you were, you were dating Eustass Kid.

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

Kid approaches you but then he bears witness to your lips quirking upwards into a sly grin. You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as you lean back into the chair you sat in, but unbeknownst to you it is then that your boyfriend’s mind clicks.

"Bu-ddy," you reply in a sing-song voice.

The crew are shocked at their Captain's restraint, especially when they see him look like he's ready to murder someone. The funny thing is that he looked like he was ready to kill anyone who wasn't you.

They all collectively take a step back.

However, their shock only amplifies ten-fold when all the pent-up tension fades as Kid's lips turn upwards into a taunting smirk. Killer has to stop himself from putting a hand to his head at everyone’s absurd reactions.

"Now princess, it seems you've forgotten who's actually in charge here."

Your eyes widen in your own surprise at the sudden change in his demeanour. Kid looks at you with his same sharp eyes but his wide smirk shines almost scarily as he approaches you closer. “You think you can get away with pranking your Captain? Cause I don’t think you fucking can babe.” He pulls you to your feet before hoisting you up on his shoulder.

"Hey- okay, I'm sorry! I’m sorry! Kid! Babe, put me down!"

But Kid does not heed your words and instead walks away from the still-gaping crew, intent on having you in his chambers until it is only his name that slips your lips.

- Katakuri -

When you are left alone with your thoughts, you oftentimes come up with ideas that usually incorporate your boyfriend. And today, you found yourself quite alone. You were bored and waiting for Katakuri to come back to you after being sent on a mission to God-knows-where. Luckily, a thought had popped into your mind quite easily and it had intrigued you to see what your boyfriend's reaction would be.

Speaking of which, you could hear heavy footsteps making their way to your door, and sure enough, your stoic boyfriend had knocked, patiently waiting for you to answer. You grin happily despite your plan as you missed him though he has been gone only a few hours. "Coming!" You instantly stand and open your door, smile only brightening at the sight of Katakuri safe and at home. You see his eyes soften as he looks at you.

"Hello love," His words are gentle to you, and you hesitate for only a moment before complying with your plan.

"Hey man, I missed you!"

In a rare moment, you see Katakuri's eyes shine with complete confusion. It is followed by the furrow of his brows as though he thought it was not you speaking to him, but someone else. The expression only lingers for a moment though, and then he looks at you with his usual, serious stare.

"Love..."

You freeze when he looks at you so knowingly, so quickly.

"Y-Yeah man?"

Katakuri sighs before leaning down to your eye level, patience in the depths of his reserved eyes.

"Is this another one of your tricks where I am to be surprised by your words or actions?"

You stop in surprise at how he has figured you out so easily, only now realising he must’ve gotten used to your impromptu pranks when left to your thoughts. You stutter before sighing heavily and rolling your eyes.

"Yes love, it is. You could’ve played along though!”

Your boyfriend looks at you with the same softness in his eyes as he witnesses your pouting face.

“Apologies love,” his words are muttered gently by your ear. He then removes the scarf that covers the lower half of his face, and suddenly he kisses your cheek softly. “I just rather terms of endearment from your lips, rather than man.”

You freeze at his actions and words and all of a sudden it is you who is taken aback as heat rushes to your face. As Katakuri steps past you into your chambers you feel yourself so lost in thought that for a moment, you completely forget about your failed prank. That is until your boyfriend calls for you again.

- Smoker -

Your boyfriend is often preoccupied and busy with the tasks that come with being a high-ranking officer of the Marines. You know the challenges and toils of being one, as you are one yourself. However, that doesn't disregard the fact that you miss him sometimes, as your roles often put distance between the two of you. Today was no different but Smoker would be returning to you soon after a shorter mission than usual, and unbeknownst to him you had come up with a small prank in the short time you were apart.

Your eyes move forward to the sight of a Marine ship approaching port and you fight to contain your grin. Sure enough, you can hear the rowdiness of Smoker's crew and the shouts of Tashigi as they go to dock the ship. When they finally do, they race to solid ground, most of them grinning and others saluting you as they pass. "Hello Vice-Admiral [y/n]!" You simply smile as you await your boyfriend and sure enough, he comes off the ship to you soon after, a nod of acknowledgement as he approaches your side.

"Hello love," he murmurs to you lowly and only so you can hear. You smile at the subtle way his eyes soften slightly, knowing he has missed you too.

"Hey dude, how was your mission?"

As you walk toward headquarters, suddenly you find that Smoker has frozen and his footsteps faltered. You stop and turn to him in mock confusion.

"What's wrong?"

He eyes you carefully as smoke bellows from the cigar in his mouth.

"Dude-?"

He quickly interrupts, the furrow of his brows and twitching of his lips showing you that he has of course noticed and was troubled.

"Who are you talking to right now?" Smoker grumbles to you, still static where he stands. You decide to approach him then, and tilt your head to the side, playing dumb.

"You?"

Smoker grits his teeth, the cigar in his mouth almost snapping in half. He leans down to you, so you see the way his eyes have sharpened.

"I'm sorry love, but I don't answer to dude. I thought you of all people would know that."

Your words stumble at his sudden proximity and you feel the heat wanting to rush to your face.

"I- I don't know what-"

Smoker lifts his hand and flicks your forehead lightly watching in amusement as you stare at him dumbfounded.

"Don't do that again."

He then continues walking but silently waits for you to fall into step beside him once more. He had missed you too much to hear such a platonic term slip your lips. He smiles subtly when you catch up to him once more, a kissable pout to your lips.

538 notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 7 months ago

Text

TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: fluff, sweet logan

a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.

you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.

maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.

for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.

"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."

your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."

"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.

"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"

"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.

"hm... have you tried talking to him?"

"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."

"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."

"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."

"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."

little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.

it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.

a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.

it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.

on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.

"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."

you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.

"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.

"no need to apologize." he assures.

one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.

"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.

*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.

logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.

"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.

little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.

"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

*wanna kiss your pretty face.

"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"

*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?

"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."

*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.

"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.

it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.

"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.

*wanna be your girl, logan.

"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"

*can you keep my secret?

he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.

it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.

logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.

"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.

"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.

he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.

"wanna sit?" he asks you.

this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.

"sure."

"did you have fun last night?"

he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.

"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."

you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.

once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.

in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.

"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"

*what's wrong, sweetheart?

*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?

"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.

*fuck it.

the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.

"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.

"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.

*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?

logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."

876 notes · View notes

aliceoseman · 5 months ago

Note

what were the messages on the card for charlie when he was in the clinic? i couldn’t work them all out. ps- as someone who had ocd and had a bad way of coping your writing really is so incredible, i count myself lucky everyday to have those stories and a friend group like i see on your show, seeing scars on screen healed the ashamed 16yr old in me 🌸

I'm so glad to hear that Heartstopper has helped you!! ❤️

So the situation with the card was that we realised very very shortly before we shot the scene that we didn't have any content for the card, so a crew member from the art department asked me on set if I could very quickly write the messages, which I did in my notes app, and then sent that as a screenshot to him where he (or someone on his team, I can't confirm) wrote them into the card itself. I didn't get a photo of the finished card because it all happened very fast and suddenly we were shooting the scene! I don't think I even saw the card interior until it was literally on set. But I do still have the note on my phone with all of the messages written out. It's a shame they didn't all appear on screen but hey, sometimes not every detail makes it into the final thing! Here they all are:

Nick

Hi Char,

You are so strong and you will get through this because you’re amazing.

I love you so so much and I’m always here for you. I miss you and I can’t wait for you to come home when you’re ready to. I love you.

Love Nick x

Tao

Charlie,

School is so weird without my bff. I miss you so much little guy. Please look after yourself or I will be very cross. Love you so much Charlie. And hope you like your present, I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Tao xxx

Elle

Dear Charlie,

We all love you so much and can’t wait to see you soon. I’m so sorry things have been so hard. Things will get better, I know it. I can’t wait for Christmas movie nights with you and the boys!

Elle

Tara

Hi Charlie,

Sending you so much love and strength. You’re an incredible person and we all care about you so much. I really hope you feel better soon. Love you lots and lots.

Tara xx

Darcy

Hey Charlie,

Life can be so shit sometimes but we will always fight back!! You’re one of the coolest people I know and you’re gonna come back more powerful than ever.

Love you!!!

Darcy

Imogen

Dear Charlie,

Love you so much! You’re an incredible and inspiring person and what you’re going through now will only make you stronger.

#warrior

Lots of love,

Imogen xxxx

Sahar

Charlie!

I miss my music buddy! I miss our chats about good bands. I really hope you’re doing okay and starting to feel better. Love you loads pal!

Sahar x

Isaac

Hey Charlie,

Miss you so so much. I’m so sorry I didn't try and help more, but the fact that you asked for help yourself just goes to show what a strong person you are. I love you. Get back here soon so we can watch Emma again.

Love Isaac x

#heartstopper s3 q&a

833 notes · View notes

suugarbabe · 4 months ago

Text

curls || mattheo riddle

summary: you couldn't help yourself, you just had to fix them. it's not like he seemed to mind your fingers in his hair anyway.

an: another yap fic courtesy of me and @musingsofahufflepuff ; you're welcome. had to include the pic because if you have brown curly hair i'm in love with you.

warnings: none; just fluffy goofiness.

Staring wasn’t usually an issue for you. Typically you could take your glances here and there and still focus on what you needed to do. But today, you just couldn’t turn away.

Mattheo wasn't your boyfriend. He wasn't even really your friend...you didn't think at least. You weren't in his little group of pals. But he also didn't ignore you like he did most people.

People often thought it was strange how nice he was to you. Not that he ever really sought you out or anything, but if your paths crossed he would say hello to you, would smile at you even.

You knew he was attractive, and your friends were convinced that he thought you were too. Of course you brushed those off. However if he was your boyfriend your current irritation could be fixed without question.

Mattheo's hair looked flat as hell.

The top of his head looked like he'd been wearing an American baseball cap for about a week straight. His hair seemingly flat around his skull and his curls twisting at the ends.

It really was a shame. If he would just fluff his roots his entire hair would come back to life, you were sure of it. But you couldn't just jump the desk in front of you to get to him, rifle your own fingers through his scalp and revive his ringlets.

"Alright everyone! Partner up, partner up!" Slughorn waved his hands in the air, dismissing the class to form pairs for brewing Draught of the Living Death.

Immediately you rounded your table, lightly grabbing his elbow. Mattheo turned towards you at your touch, a grin forming on his lips. "Partners?" You asked, hoping your look didn't appear to pleading.

"Sure thing, babe," Mattheo responded without hesitation, pulling the stool next to him out for you before grabbing your books from your previous table.

Throughout the potion preparation you kept stealing glances at him. Er, well, his hair. You did need to brew the potion, but you'd be damned if you left this lesson without correcting his curls.

"Have I got something on my face?" Mattheo jested. You laughed lightly, shaking your head before picking up the last of the ingredients to toss them in the cauldron.

Mattheo began to sir, the color of the potion changing correctly with what you both were doing. And you were staring again. You knew it. You knew he could feel it because he was grinning once more.

"Can I just.." you pointed somewhat shyly at his head. Mattheo cocked his head slightly, giving a small nod.

You let out a sigh of relief, lifting your hands and quickly threading your fingers between curls and to his scalp. As you fluff his hair, nails scratching at his scalp slightly, Mattheo's eyes almost involuntarily roll.

"Merlin's fucking beard, that feels good," Mattheo praises as you finally take your hands away from his head. He shakes his head back and forth, his curls flopping this way and that before standing still again, giving you a big smile, "Better?"

"Godric, yes," you breathe, "I'm sorry, Matty. The flatness was killing me." Mattheo bit his lip to stifle a laugh, "Oh yeah? Tell me how you really feel, babe."

You gave a playful shove to his shoulder, "You really should pay attention to your hair more. It's one of your best features. But Enzo did just get that new haircut and might I say..." you gave an exaggerated sigh and fanned your face with your hand.

"You saying Enzo's hair looks better than mine?" Mattheo laid a hand on his chest, mocking offense. You shrugged, grin continuously growing.

Mattheo gasped at your lack of response, squeezing your side playfully. You giggled, pushing his hands away, "Okay, okay. I'm just saying you need to take care of those curls or one hot guy haircut is gonna make you fall down the ranks."

Mattheo shook his head, his now lively curls bouncing as he did. "Listen, if you ever. And I mean ever see my curls dead again, I don't care what I'm doing, you stop me and fix them. Preferably with the head scratches like you just did."

There was no thought needed, no extra considerations, before your immediate response, "Deal."

#lollllll #may or may not be inspired by benny boy #BEN FIX YOUR FUCKING CURLS 2K25 #sab and micah yaps turned fics #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #golden era

814 notes · View notes

harunayuuka2060 · 3 months ago

Text

WHB Not A Descendant (Cont.)

Leviathan: *dragging MC by the back of their neck* Michael has remained silent for some time.

MC: Isn't that a good thing?

Leviathan: No news is good news. And you've had nearly a month of rest, so it's time to return to work.

MC: Uh... I'm a devil of Gehenna.

Leviathan: *stops in his tracks and turns his head at them*

Leviathan: Foras is your work-husband.

MC: Oh, we broke up yesterday.

Foras: *appears* No, we didn't.

MC: ...

MC: *folded their arms*

MC: *has been stationed in Niflheim*

MC: ...

MC: What am I supposed to find here? *looking at a wasteland*

MC: *sigh* Whatever.

MC: *wears Raphael's wings, flaps them, and soars high into the sky, scanning the area*

MC: Hm? *has spotted a devil below*

MC: ...

MC: That's a large haul.

Andrealphus: ...

Andrealphus: You're a devil, yet you have Raphael's scent.

MC: ...Must be the wings. I remember washing them though.

Andrealphus: *looks a bit surprised* You must be that new devil...

MC: Hm?

Andrealphus: ...

Andrealphus: What are you doing here?

MC: Leviathan wanted me to look for Michael. He said he might be hiding here.

Andrealphus: *smiles* He was, but he escaped. You must be the reason why.

MC: Me?

Andrealphus: You might not have noticed, but you have quite a strong presence.

MC: Oh. So I lost the stealth.

Andrealphus: *chuckles* Anyway, would you like to come with me? I'm on my way to report to His Majesty Belphegor.

MC: ...

MC: Do you have food there?

Andrealphus: *smiles* Yes.

MC: Okay.

MC: ...

Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: What are you staring at?

MC: Sorry. I've never seen someone this degenerate.

Belphegor: Heh. You're a funny kid. I can kill you, y'know?

MC: Disinfect yourself first from head to toe. Thank you.

Beleth: Andre, where did you get this new pal of yours?

Andrealphus: Don't you know them, Beleth? They were the one who defeated Raphael and Gabriel.

Beleth: Huh? I thought that was just a rumor?

Harumon: Yeah! That's impossible! Just look at them!

MC: *does a peace sign with a poker face*

MC: ...

Andrealphus: What's wrong?

MC: *has been trying to teleport back to Hades* My box is not working.

Beleth: That means the other end is blocked.

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Does that mean I need to walk?

Beleth: *chuckles* Your mission's not done yet.

MC: But I hate looking for someone who doesn't want to show up.

Belphegor: You just have to be patient.

MC: Do you do that?

Belphegor: 'Course not.

MC: ...

MC: *turns to Andrealphus*

Andrealphus: ...

MC: ...

Andrealphus: ...What is it?

Beleth: Looks like they want your help.

Andrealphus: I'm not sure-

MC: Andre-hyung.

Andrealphus: ...

Andrealphus: *smiles* Okay.

Belphegor: So that's how you play.

#what in hell is bad #whb mc #whb leviathan #whb belphegor #whb foras #whb andrealphus #whb beleth #whb harumon #whb not a descendant

348 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 1 year ago

Note

Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut

Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?

Part 2 After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonight…

Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words

maybe the tag list? Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

Fuck Joke Around and Find Out

The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggie’s fingers playing with Charlie’s, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Husk’s obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Husker’s hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.

After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, “Oh I guess it’s our turn?”

Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, “Your room or mine?”

You threw your leg over Alastor’s lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, “Pssst rooms are for squares, baby.”

Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didn’t work quite as effectively on you.

“Squares? Oh, not us.” A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ‘no’, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.

When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastor’s large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, “Thanks, trying to do it like he did,” fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. “I think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincin’ portrayal, pookie?” Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.

Alastor’s finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.

When alone together, you’d occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.

His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize you’d made the noise.

Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, “Oops. Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No need to apologize. What’s a little joking around between pals?”

You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.

“I didn’t expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.” Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. You’d never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastor’s “playing” was so convincing. You weren’t minding it, to your surprise, but you weren’t sure you understood the source material as well he did.

His head fell back with a roar, “Being an infrequent lover doesn’t mean I am a bad one.”

Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. “That would make them experts, compared to us,” You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.

“You think so?”, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, “Are you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldn’t be opposed to making you”, he grazed his nose against yours, “laugh.”

You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, “I don’t mind a good laugh, now and then.” Did you-you say that or Angel-you?

The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastor’s body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didn’t leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.

His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.

When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldn’t see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.

When did the playing around shift? Was this—- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?

You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place. Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, “Do you think this is what they’re doing now? Or is everyone already…”

A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.

Oh, yeah, no.

A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.

“What a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.

“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?”

Alastor’s ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.

”Oh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?” His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.

“No, Niffty, dear. That’s quite alright.”, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, “We were just— playing around.”

“Really? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.” She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, “Please don’t dirty the sofa, sir.” echoing behind her.

You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, “Can I be Husk next?”

I wrote this while washing dishes— the dishes aren’t very clean but neither am I

༻Masterlist༺

2K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 201,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself

view all comments

user1: oscar babygirlism is so real

landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT

yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy

landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN

oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me

landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(

yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well

landonorris: oh thank you 😊

oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you

landonorris: you guys love me really

user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint

user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n

yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(

yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?

yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)

landonorris: when will the slander end?

oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(

yourusername: i love you the most though

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,094,558 others

tagged: landonorris & yourusername

oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium

view all comments

user5: oscodium i know that's right

mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once

yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫

oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium

yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)

mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(

yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you

user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line

user7: they're so real for that

user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage

yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me

oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA

user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>

landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?

oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨

landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF

yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....

landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???

user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus

view all comments

user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies

alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed

logansargeant: i am cultured?

yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him

logansargeant: but i liked it!

yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother

alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren

yourusername: name the price...

user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest

oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"

logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me

yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER

oscarpiastri: 💅

charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child

maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔

yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?

charles_leclerc: one second

charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!

charles_leclerc: okay done :)

oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]

user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me

user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 730,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved

view all comments

user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery

oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support

yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)

oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage

yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀

oscarpiastri: my girl x

yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)

user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute

user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought

user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute

yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️

maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!

oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack

yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake

maxverstappen1: what about my cake?

yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you

oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?

maxverstappen1: nice try dude

yourusername: you haven't tried it yet

oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)

maxverstappen1: ????

yourusername: we jest

oscarpiastri: or do we?

user22: is gp another person they've collected?

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 1,094,873 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with

view all comments

user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents

user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS

yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now

oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)

yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS

oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well

yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this

landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win

yourusername: nope, actively praying against it

landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME

yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando

landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears

user25: well that escalated

danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭

yourusername: someone get me a grill asap

danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick

maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS

yourusername: well no bbq for you then

maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really

oscarpiastri: ???

user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me

user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk

mclarenf1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,024,550 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & yourusername

mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)

view all comments

user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell

user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen

yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps

mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm

oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)

landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged

yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing

yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour

mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description

landonorris: ...

oscarpiastri: well....

yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever

oscarpiastri: i love you <3

landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute

user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA

georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us

yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe

georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!

charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs

oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(

georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta

yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't

user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 621,945 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved

view all comments

user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point

user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track

logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good

yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear

logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport

user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting

user36: my heart is so full i love them

maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is

yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy

maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up

yourusername: you got me there

danielricciardo: that was scrummy

charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week

georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta

user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan

oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3

yourusername: you're my favourite thing

landonorris: keep that to yourself

yourusername: i can't love my bf now?

landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG

oscarpiastri: you made it not PG

yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando

landonorris: i can't win with you people

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 803,884 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king

view all comments

user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food

landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((

oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus

landonorris: selfish

yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season

user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king

oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george

georgerussell63: no regrets

yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty

oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen

yourusername: all the food WE want all off season

maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you

charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly

landonorris: i'm calling childline actually

yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months

landonorris: GASP!

oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro

landonorris: :(

yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year

oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.

yourusername: i love you too osc

fin.

note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri

2K notes · View notes

takimakiiiii · 1 month ago

Text

meet me in shanghai!

part 8 to the ¡Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: the shanghai grand prix in underway! as the weekend approaches you figure out maybe ollie’s the sensitive gf in the relationship. the usual 2019 rookie banter you never get tired of, also mercedes admin beef with y/n ⁉️

pairing: ollie bearman x mercedes fem engineer!reader & reader x platonic!f1grid

tw!: mention of killing, kill yourself jokes, threatening, swearing, italian (kimi) slander (i’m sorry😖)

a/n: i haven’t done one of these in ages but i got the motivation from the new season to bring back the cosmic girl records, so here you are, enjoy!

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 2,789,557 others

unfortunatelyy/n: exploring shanghai w my girlies 🤭

tagged: lilymhe and alexandrasaintmleux

user1: WE ARE BEING FEDDDD

user2: guys what if i died from y/n’s lethal face card

alexandrasaintmleux: my fave girls 💗

unfortunatelyy/n: 🤍

user7: this trio is one to rival the 2019 rookies fr

landonorris: 🤨

alex_albon: 🤨

georgerussell64: 🤨

user8: YOU SUMMONED THEM

user10: they’re like demons

unfortunatelyy/n: agreed.

olliebearman: without me. . .? 💔

unfortunatelyy/n: ur sitting right next to me pal

user3: pal 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: gotta put a dude in his place fr

user4: IM SORRY I CACKLED

olliebearman: dude? just say you hate me 😔💔

unfortunatelyy/n: so dramatic geez 🙄

lilymhe: we were such explorers today

unfortunatelyy/n: FR‼️

lilymhe: you’re the boots to my dora 🤭

user5: that’s w rizz right there

unfortunatelyy/n: woah that’s so romantic 😍

alex_albon: EVERY SINGLE TIME

user9: oop

alex_albon: WHY DO YOU ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO STEAL MY GIRLFRIEND

unfortunatelyy/n: well you see that depends, do you mean hypothetically or literally

alex_ albon: BOTH

unfortunatelyy/n: i think the real question is why is it so easy 🤨

alex_albon: girl stfu

unfortunatelyy/n: i rest my case 🙌

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, georgerussell64 and 1,389,983 others

unfortunatelyy/n: karting w the gang

tagged: kimi.antonelli, olliebearman, landonorris, alex_albon and georgerussell64

user1: i see that the gang has new members now

user2: do you think they have a blood pact

user3: maybe they have a gang handshake

landonorris: can confirm we do

user10: TO WHICH ONE 😭

georgerussell64: y/n made us

unfortunatelyy/n: I DID NOT

alex_albon: that’s exactly what someone who did would say

unfortunatelyy/n: “that’s exactly what someone who did would say☝️🤓”

user4: ngl he’s probably used to it at this point😭

alex_albon: kys

unfortunatelyy/n: perhaps not

user5: she’s him fr

user15: y/n’s relationship with the 2019 rookies is so dear to me you don’t understand

kimi.antonelli: remember when you lost today that was funny

unfortunatelyy/n: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING

kimi.antonelli: i lied.

unfortunately/yn: that’s it. just you wait, i hope you’re looking forward to this weekend

kimi.antonelli: wait, what does that mean

kimi.antonelli: y/n

kimi.antonelli: answer my calls y/n

kimi.antonelli: i see you online, answer me 🙏

user10: little bro is COOKED

user11: that’s also his engineer right there 😭

user12: dawg isn’t gonna survive this weekend, i fear

olliebearman: so i’m just “gang” now? 💔

unfortunatelyy/n: WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY

user6: he’s just a girl 🎀

unfortunatelyy/n: a girl that’s getting on my nerves right now

user7: do we think he’s still alive

landonorris: can confirm he is not

unfortunatelyy/n: has anyone ever told you how helpful you are?

landonorris: yes actually they have

unfortunatelyy/n: well they’re lying to you

user8: HELP 😭

user9: aaand sassy y/n’s back

alex_albon: unfortunately so

unfortunatelyy/n: kys mwah🫶

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, lilymhe, franco.colapinto and 2,494,299 others

unfortunatelyy/n: i got hacked. who are these homeless guys

user1: kimi just casually throwing up gang signs

user2: he’s so pookie fr

landonorris: this was not the intention of these photos

unfortunatelyy/n: good.

olliebearman: I SAID SORRY ALREADY WHY

unfortunatelyy/n: because i hate you (said with love)

landonorris: you disgust me

unfortunatelyy/n: shut up mr situationship guy or i’ll tag magui (threat)

landonorris: consider me shut upped (not a threat)

carlossainz55: ah so this is why they had your phone today

unfortunatelyy/n: it felt like forever💔

landonorris: you’re a phone addict okay we were helping you

unfortunatelyy/n: I AM NOT

landonorris: stage 1: denial

unfortunatelyy/n: what if i killed you (threat)

landonorris: i’d report you (threat)

unfortunatelyy/n: you’d be dead by then (threat)

landonorris: not if i kill you first (threater threat)

nicole.piastri: what if i killed you both for acting like children (threat)

user8: MAMA PIASTRI? user10: OSCAR’S MUM HELLO??

user9: well that certainly shut them up

kimi.antonelli: am i getting fired for this

user4: bro’s fighting for his life rn with his pr i just know it

user5: we need an update @unfortunatelyy/n

unfortunatelyy/n: shhhh, toto is deciding whether or not to fire him or not (i voted yes)

totowolff_original: i would appreciate it if you did not spread misinformation online y/n

unfortunatelyy/: am. . . I. . . fired. . . ?

totowolff_original: i am deciding

user6: WOAH i did not know toto was chill like that😭

user7: he’s such a diva fr

kimi.antonelli: HAHAHAH see that’s what you get y/n

unfortunatelyy/n: stfu italian pasta boy

mercedesamgf1: maybe we should begin that pr training y/n . . .

unfortunatelyy/n: NO WAIT

unfortunatelyy/n: PLEASE I BEG

liked by lewis.hamilton, franco.colapinto, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad, carlossainz55 and 3,483,954 others

unfortunatelyy/n: me at work when i get told i actually have to do my job

charles_leclerc: what did i do to you

unfortunatelyy/n: live.

user1: she is NEVER letting that go

user2: it’s part of their lore

user3: only the og’s know 🔥

georgerussell64: that is a very unflattering photo of me

unfortunatelyy/n: that is why i chose it

georgerussell64: right.

user6: they’ll just never get you like we do y/n😔

oscarpiastri: okay what the flip

unfortunatelyy/n: i’m sorry it’s the only photo that came up on google when i searched staring into the abyss and questioning life

oscarpiastri: fair enough 👍

user4: classic oscar reaction

user5: not the thumbs up😭

user8: dad ahh thumbs up reaction

unfortunatelyy/n: see, he gets it he’s just a chill guy fr unlike the others 🙄

unfortunatelyy/n: *cue the chill guy theme song

landonorris: sometimes i wonder how you’ve made it this far

unfortunatelyy/n: idk if i should be flattered or insulted

landonorris: how, what, yk what nevermind and open the front door i've been standing here for 10 minutes

unfortunatelyy/n: i know i can see you through the cameras

user9: I CACKLED?

landonorris: OPEN THE MFING DOOR RIGHT NOW I NEED TO USE THE BATHROom

unfortunatelyy/n: whoopsies

liked by olliebearman, francocolapinto, carlossainz55, landonorris, oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri and 1,930,749

unfortunatelyy/n: dawg that’s my driver we’re cooked

user1: LMAO?😭

user2: he knew this was coming 😭

kimi.antonelli: mama mia what is this

user3: oh god i think we all know what’s coming next

unfortunatelyy/n: “mama mia🤌🇮🇹🍝🍕🥖”

kimi.antonelli: WHY IS THERE A BAGUETTE

unfortunatelyy/n: too far im sorry.

kimi.antonelli: i hope you know that this weekend i’m not listening to you over the radio

unfortunatelyy/n: that’s okay sometimes i turn it off anyways

kimi.antonelli: WOW.

user4: see kids, this is what you call a healthy racer engineer relationship

maxverstappen1: i would appreciate it if you did not attack my grid child like this

unfortunatelyy/n: OMG who’s the father? is it charles

charles_leclerc: what.

maxverstappen1: what.

unfortunatelyy/n: omg what? who said that?

landonorris: HAHAHAHAH

user5: i can literally imagine him rolling on the ground rn

unfortunatelyy/n: at least someone appreciates my humour

landonorris: only this once

user6: wholesome y/n and lando interaction for once?

unfortunatelyy/n: absolutely not that message was typed with pure spite and hate

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasainxmleux, iamrebbecad, lilyzneimer and 2,482,934 others

unfortunatelyy/n: out n about w the huzz

tagged: olliebearman

user1: PLEASE TELL ME HUZZ IN THIS CONTEXT MEANS HUSBAND

user2: they’re like 20 chill 😭😭

user3: she’s really mastered the art of clipping ollie

user12: if you think THIS is her clipping ollie you should see her other posts

user7: her posts about him are so cutesy i cant

user8: i’ll just be crying happy tears in the corner don’t mind me

olliebearman: i approve of these photos

unfortunatelyy/n: i tried my best but there were just no bad ones from recently😔

olliebearman: . . . i’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that

unfortunatelyy/n: okay 🤗

user9: cause of death - cuteness overload

user10: who’s crying? i’m not crying you’re crying wtf

user11: no disgusted lando in the comments?

landonorris: oh im still here i just choose peace right now

unfortunatelyy/n: that’s new.

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lewis.hamilton, kimi.antonelli, alex_albon, carlossainz55 and 1,749,997 others

unfortunatelyy/n: IT’S RACE DAY RAHHHHHH🔥🔥🔥 (time to actually do my job)

mercedesamgf1: 👀

unfortunatelyy/n: how’s it going admin?

mercedesamgf1: how’s the pr training going y/n?

unfortunatelyy/n: i was joking💔

mercedesamgf1: so were we

user1: destined to be best friends forced to be enemies 😔

user1: y/n who do you think is going to win today

unfortunatelyy/n: idk but i have a feeling mercedes is gonna be pretty good

mercedesamgf1: 🤨

unfortunatelyy/n: I SAID PRETTY GOOD OKAY

mercedesamgf1: 🙄

user2: y/n and mercedes admin beef goes crazyyy

unfortunatelyy/n: ikr like what

mercedesamgf1: 😠

unfortunatelyy/n: OH MY GOSH GO AWAY

mercedesamgf1: perhaps not

user3: we NEED to know who admin is rn

user4: NAME DROP PLS ADMIN

unfortunatelyy/n: i would also like to know the name of the person WHO WON’T GET OFF MY ASS

user5: what’s the probability of it being kimi

unfortunatelyy/n: oh gawd

a/n: thanks for reading! i hope you have an amazing day and stay safe!!

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin

387 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 1 day ago

Note

Eddie and AYW Reader making out on the couch and basically dry humping until he comes in his jeans. That’s the request.

I can’t believe that this is the 100th AYW story. That is so wild to me. Thank you all for still reading, never mind reading it to begin with! Y’all are the best 🥰

Warnings: not quite smut but it toes the line. Eddie creams his jeans, dry humping

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A rumbling sigh slips through Eddie’s lips as he shuts the front door behind him. It felt like work was eighty hours long today instead of eight. Between reconstructing an engine and snippets of his steamy dream about you last night coming back to him, each second that ticked by was torturously stretched out.

He kicks his boots off just as the fast pitter-patter of little feet approaches him.

“Daddy!” Luke squeals.

“Hey, buddy!” Eddie scoops his youngest up and rests him on his hip. “How was school today?”

“Good,” Luke replies, absentmindedly playing with a section of hair that had fallen out of the bun at the nape of Eddie’s neck. “D��you know hockey pucks used to be made with cow poop?”

Eddie’s mouth pops open, mind trying to process his son’s words and a possible response.

“I—uh… No. No, I did not. That’s what you learned at school today, huh?”

“Yep.” The little boy wriggles so Eddie plops him back down on his feet.

“Tax dollars well spent,” Eddie mumbles to himself as he follows his mini-me into the kitchen.

Inside, Ryan is sliding his homework folder back into his backpack. You’re bent over, searching for something in the fridge, and Eddie’s body has an immediate response to you in that position. That might just be the one position the two of you weren’t in in his dream last night.

“Hi, Daddy!” Ryan calls as he zips up his backpack.

“Hey, pal.” Eddie ruffles his golden-brown hair before coming up behind you and accidentally bumping his hip up against your ass.

Heat rushes to your cheeks despite the waves of cold wafting over your face from the refrigerator. Coming to the conclusion that Luke must have finished his last Yoo-Hoo and therefore can’t have the one that he asked you for, you stand up straight and spin to meet Eddie’s gaze. The way his eyes glint with mischief as he tries his hardest to suppress a smirk does nothing to calm your body down. Every damn look this man gives you is a turn on.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, only a hint of laughter creeping into his voice. “Didn’t see you there.”

You step forward and let the refrigerator door fall closed behind you.

“Uh huh,” you hum, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie can’t hold his chuckle back any longer and moves so he’s leaning back against the counter. Simply being in his personal space feels too charged, so you force yourself to walk over to the kitchen table and run a hand over Ryan’s hair.

“That was all your homework?” you ask.

“Yup!”

“Good job.”

“Can we please play a game now?” Luke runs his hands down his face, letting his fingers tug down his bottom eyelids, revealing the vibrant red on the other side of the skin.

“Yes, I know, I promised you a game.” You boop his nose as he shuffles past you, gait reminiscent of a zombie.

The little boy continues forward until he bumps into his father’s tall frame.

“Can we play Twister?” Luke asks as he grabs Eddie’s left hand, spinning a chunky silver ring around his middle finger.

“Daddy can spin the thing, and we can get all tangled up on the mat!’ Ryan grins, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The mental image of you bending in different positions right in front of him is more than poor frazzled Eddie can handle. He clears his throat and rubs his free hand along his stubbled jaw.

“Um, how about this…” Eddie trails off, mind racing since he doesn’t have a decent alternative already thought up. “Uh, oh! Okay. How about you guys go take your baths right now? That way we can play a game when you’re done.” And God does Eddie hope they want a different game by then. “That way you already have your baths done for the night so we can watch two movies before bed.”

“Two?!” Eddie thinks Luke’s eyes are going to pop out of his head as he stares up at him.

“Mhmm.” Eddie gently shakes the hand that Luke’s still holding onto. “Each of you can pick one.”

Luke widens his eyes and rocks back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet.

“Can I pick a PG movie?” A small, cute pucker grows on his lips as he attempts to sway his father with his adorableness.

Eddie cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

“Depends on the movie. But maybe.”

“Yes!”

It’s all Luke needs to hear before running out of the kitchen, down the hall towards the bathroom.

“Can I pick the first movie?” Ryan asks once his little brother is gone.

“Sure thing, pal.” Eddie nods. “Go ahead, go take your bath.”

After both of the boys have vacated the kitchen, you saunter over to Eddie and slide your hands up his coverall-clad chest. Your forefinger traces the letters of his name on his left breast pocket.

“So, not a fan of Twister?” You tilt your head up and bat your eyelashes as innocently as you can manage.

“Maybe too much of a fan when you’re involved.”

Eddie slides one arm around your waist and pulls your body flush up against his. The way your thigh presses up against his crotch allows you to feel that he’s already half hard. The friction makes Eddie release a small groan as you give a tiny gasp in surprise.

“What’s got you worked up?” you ask, no flirting or teasing, just genuine curiosity in your tone.

“Well,” Eddie says, slipping a hand into each of the back pockets of your jeans, “there is the fact that I came home to see my girl bent over in front of me. After all the fantasizing I’ve been doing about her today. After the hottest fucking dream I’ve ever had last night.”

“Wow, so you’ve been ready to go all day, huh?” Your smirk indicates the teasing has returned.

Eddie’s hands squeeze your ass as his head ducks down until his mouth is a mere inch from yours.

“You have no idea,” he growls.

The timbre sends a pleasant shiver up your spine, which Eddie notices. He grins and it’s positively predatory. You’ll happily be this man’s prey any day.

“I think,” you say softly, “I’ll go into your room and see if I can find anything that might be able to help you with your…problem.” It takes a massive amount of strength to take a step back, out of Eddie’s arms, but the prospect of having his body on top of yours in a matter of moments gives you the drive you need.

Brown eyes darkened with lust trail you as you slink out of the room. He stands there, silently counting to five before he follows you. 1…2…3…4–oh fuck it, here I come.

Eddie shoves himself off of the counter, steps hurried as he heads down the hall. The moment he steps into his room, you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, one leg crossed over the other, your foot lazily bobbing up and down. The desire that’s been burning in him all day flairs into a roaring fire. His tongue slowly licks over his teeth as he quietly shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Lay down.”

The command leaves no room for argument as you lay back, scooting until your head rests on Eddie’s pillow. A quick glance to the side has you shoving Brittany’s pillow over the edge.

Eddie kneels on the foot of the bed, one leg on either side of your ankles. His gaze rakes up your body, starting at the hem of your jeans, up your sensuous legs, the zipper and button that Eddie yearns to pop open, the curve of your waist and the swell of your breasts, up to the face that he swears was crafted by angels.

No hastiness in his movements, Eddie leans down until his hands are splayed on each side of your stomach. He leisurely leans down and lets his nose brush up the hem of your shirt. Once your soft skin is exposed, Eddie presses gentle kisses in a trail up to the bottom of your bra. Hot breath ghosts against your neck as Eddie crawls further up your body. It’s agony waiting until his face hovers directly above yours.

A smile involuntarily grows, brightening his entire face. Your eyes trace the lines of his mouth, where they come to little dimples in his cheeks. But Eddie takes your chin in his fingers and moves your head so your gazes lock again.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead, you lay there, staring up at him. The fiery look in his eyes makes your breathing speed up.

Torturously slow, Eddie finally leans down and connects his mouth to yours. You immediately respond, tilting your head to slot your lips against his, greedy for all you can get from him. His body weight steadily presses down against you, one of his legs slotting between yours. Your arms immediately wrap around him, one hand tugging the hair tie out so his locks can fall free. A soft moan rattles your chest as you sink your fingers into Eddie’s hair. The sound has Eddie’s thigh pressing harder against your core. His hard length also rubs against your leg, the feel of it causing an ache deep within you.

Your lips part and Eddie wastes no time brushing his tongue against your own. The kisses quickly become frantic, urgent, with him licking into your mouth as your two legs wrap around his one to keep it right where it is against the too-thick denim you’re wearing.

The way his scruff brushes against your chin irritates it with the most pleasurable burn you’ve ever experienced. His mouth is wet and hot against yours and you feel as if you could fall apart just from this.

A groan into your mouth only heightens your pleasure. One large hand slides down and grasps at your waist the other gently cupping the side of your head as he leans on that arm for balance. Eddie’s hips roll up against yours with more fervor, the frequency increasing as well. Every stroke of his tongue against yours comes with his body pressing up against yours, your panties beyond soaked at this point.

Even between your jeans and the material of Eddie’s coveralls, you feel his cock twitch against your leg. His excitement makes the feel of his tongue in your mouth even sexier.

He must agree by the sound of another groan. The low rumble vibrates against your chest. Hips press flush up against yours, your body now rocking in time with his own. The hand pressed against your waist starts to slide up your body and you’re quick to cover it with your own. Mouths not skipping a beat, and hips keeping up their rhythmic pace, you drag Eddie’s hand underneath your t-shirt and up your skin. The back of your hand pushes the left cup of your bra away and you bring Eddie’s hand to rest on your bare breast.

The moment his skin meets yours, the hard pebble of your nipple pressing against the palm of his hand, Eddie’s hips give one last lurch before they still. He moans into your mouth until he can’t breathe anymore and is forced to pull back. Both of you are panting as Eddie rests his forehead against your cheek, his chest heaving against yours, both of your hands still between them.

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbles, followed by a low chuckle. It takes a moment between the layers of clothes, but you soon feel the warmth growing against your thigh. You let out a chuckle of your own as your eyes slip closed.

“Was good?” you ask breathlessly.

“Jesus Christ, you make me feel like a teenager,” he mumbles against your jaw. “I don’t think I’ve come in my pants since high school.”

“I’m honored.” You both share a soft laugh as you slip your hand from beneath your shirt and gently scratch your fingers against Eddie’s scalp.

“I should be embarrassed,” he says with a sigh.

“No, you–”

“But I’m not,” Eddie cuts you off. “How the fuck do you make me feel so comfortable to be me so freely? Even when I come in my pants like a virgin.”

You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad I do,” you tell him.

The hand that was previously against the side of your face snakes down and blindly searches for your hand. You’re quick to slip it into his larger one and he laces your fingers together.

“Fuck, I guess I should get up before it makes a mess of your pants, too. That would be fun to explain away.”

“Mm, don’t move,” you huff.

“I gotta,” he laments with a sigh.

“Fine. But you must give me one more kiss before you do.”

Eddie looks up at you with that boyish grin that always makes your stomach flip.

“I can do better than that.”

He leans up and presses three gentle but loving kisses against your lips. It leaves a smile on your face as he pushes himself up and moves off of the bed. Lazily, you watch him change out of his coveralls and into new boxers, a t-shirt, and jeans. When he catches you staring, Eddie throws you a wink.

“Unfortunately, we’re out of time for shenanigans today. Bath time usually only lasts half an hour,” he says as he comes back towards the bed. He sits down on the edge and rubs his hand along your thigh. “But I refuse to let this go unreciprocated. So…” He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours and bumps your noses together, “tomorrow you better be ready to see how many times I can make you come in half an hour.”

Your thighs clench together just at the thought.

“Bring it on, baby.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWs #request

320 notes · View notes

viceroywrites · 8 months ago

Text

deja vu - part three

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown / @m4x-3dw / @nothingbutcloud / @reivelmin / @grimometry / @walmartjim / @adelezzxd / @reiofsuns2001 / @bunni-teeth81 / @marshnest / @satorisgirl / @symphology / @pen900 / @sometimesminsan / @creat0r-cat / @lackingoriginalthoughts / @fries11 / @sunniskyies

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part two | part four

The three of you sat in the impressive living room, Ford and you sitting on the couch while Fiddleford lounges in the loveseat, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

“You were able to sell those patents to the government and that’s how you got this place!” You say in glee, your lips spread into an excited smile, “I told you your inventions were going to get you places, Fiddleford!”

“Aw shucks, you flatter me too much. Glad this noggin of mine finally got put to good use!” Fiddleford said bashfully, knocking on his skull, “So Stanford told me you got a job in the National Parks! Find any gold while surveying?”

“No gold yet but I’ve found a few gemstones that I ended up pocketing instead of just documenting them.” You admitted with a sly smile.

The two of you laughed and chatted like time had never passed. Meanwhile, Ford watched with a wistful smile, wishing to hear you be just as comfortable with him as you once were. Though in the back of his head, he recognized that once your memories return, you may never want to speak to him again.

“Ford, what did you end up doing after all these years? I’m sure something exciting with 12 PhDs.” You ask with a curious tilt to your head. You tried to loop him back into the conversation, feeling guilty that you and Fiddleford had spent most of this time catching up with one another with Ford sitting there observing quietly.

“Oh… well..” Ford stammered, caught off guard by the question. He glanced over at Fiddleford who gave him a sympathetic look before giving a nod of encouragement, “I decided to study anomalies with my grant money. Gravity Falls is actually chalk full of them, hence why I ended up here. Fiddleford actually came out here from Palo Alto to help me with my research.”

“Really? I’m surprised we didn’t meet when I had visited him years ago but you must have been busy with your research, right?” You question, not knowing the weight of the situation that you had left years ago. Ford and Fiddleford exchanged tense glances which caused you to sit up right, “Is.. everything okay?”

The previous evening, Ford had decided to give Fiddleford a call preemptively before bringing you over to get some answers of his own.

After the second ring, Ford heard a “Yello?” from his old friend and sighed, trying to keep his composure. He was ready to start a tirade of questions but he attempted to remain cool, not wanting to alienate his friend that he just got back.

He didn’t want to go in blind with the assumption that Fiddleford’s memory erasing gun was the cause of your memory loss, when there could be a laundry list of potential conditions you may have that could have caused this amnesia.

“Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, Fiddleford. I have some news that can’t wait until the morning.” Ford says, leaning against the wall while twirling the cord of the phone in between his fingers.

“Sure, what is it, pal? I’ve been working on a new patent so I need a break anyways,” Fiddleford says on the other end, removing his green glasses and moving to the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Well, do you remember Y/N? Our friend from Backupsmore and my… ex-lover.” Ford hesitates during the last part.

Ford hears a hitch in his friend’s voice along with shuffling on the other end before hearing a response, “Yes, I remember her.”

Ford inhales sharply before letting out a deep sigh, “Well, she’s in Gravity Falls. My brother stumbled upon her after her car broke down in the woods and brought her back to the Mystery Shack.”

“W-Well, isn’t that exciting. We should catch up, shouldn’t we?” Fiddleford says with an anxious edge to his voice.

“Fiddleford…” Ford’s voice is stiff as his worst fears feel like they are already confirmed, “Why does she not remember me?”

Apologies spill from Fiddleford, the anxiety in his voice mounting, “I-I’m so sorry, Stanford. At the time, I thought it was the only way we were going to get through everything we saw, everything we experienced.”

Ford swallowed the lump in his throat, not knowing whether to comfort his friend or to lash out on him for doing such a thing. Hearing those words was like swallowing a bitter pill. He remained silent, letting Fiddleford ramble on to get more details.

“She came to me in tears… she just kept saying over and over that she wanted the pain to go away.” Fiddleford explained, beginning to pace around the space.

“So you just took her memories, just like that? Specifically her memories of me? Because she remembers you just fine!” Ford’s frustration finally comes out. His right hand balled into a fist, his left clutching the phone tightly.

Fiddleford winces at the harshness in Ford’s voice, memories of their last fight flashing back but he knows he has to face it rather than running away like he did all those years. He takes a deep breath before sighing, “Stanford, she asked me to erase her memories.”

Ford feels his heart drop and his stomach in knots, almost dropping the phone.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Why would you want to forget him?

Was what he did all those years ago so horrible that you wanted to erase his very existence from your mind?

Ford struggled to find the words but was able to muster out, “It’s… not your fault, Fiddleford. It’s mine. I put you both through hell during my quest for knowledge.”

Fiddleford paused before responding back shakily, “You don’t need to keep apologizing, friend. Bring her over tomorrow, hopefully we can jog her memory.”

Ford let out a sigh, “Alright, also if you have literally anything from our time from college, please retrieve it to show it to her. That’s what helped bring back Stanley’s memories - any physical reminder of the memories.”

They both said their good nights before hanging up the phone. Ford slides against the wall in defeat, reaching up to run a hand over his face underneath his glasses before pausing as he feels the wetness against his eyes.

He hadn’t even registered the tears that began to prick the inner corners of his eyes.

Fiddleford gets up from his seat, excusing himself abruptly to retrieve something in the other room. Your question remains unanswered and hangs in the air as Ford refuses to meet your gaze, seemingly invested in the stray thread on his sweater.

“Something must have happened when I was out here all those years ago…” You mutter, staring down at your feet, “It affected us, didn’t it? Whatever we were…” You trail off. You had put some of the pieces together that your relationship with Ford prior must have carried a heavy history.

Ford continues to play with the thread, the silence slowly eating away at him before he finally responds, “It did. Not only you and I but my friendship with Fiddleford as well.” He wrapped the thread around his index finger, “It might come as a surprise, but Fiddleford and I just rekindled our friendship this past summer.”

Before you can reply, Fiddleford comes back into the room, holding a cardboard box in his bandaged hands. He unceremoniously dumps it onto the table before flopping back down onto his chair. His light-hearted demeanor had shifted to one of anxiety.

“Listen, Y/N… I have to admit something to you that you might not like… ah jeez..” Fiddleford stumbles over his words, craving an escape from this situation.

“Whatever it is, as long as it gets me closer to understanding what’s going on, I promise I won’t be upset at you.” You try to reassure your friend, looking over to Ford to help back you up. Ford’s gaze softened, nodding in understanding, “It’s going to be alright, Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford feels comfort in his close friends’ reassurance, taking a deep breath before rambling out an explanation that’s barely coherent, wanting to get it off his chest immediately, “I created an invention that wipes people’s specific memories called the Memory Gun! I even used it on myself and my mind was gone for decades. Basically I erased your memories all those years ago and that’s why you don’t remember Stanford! There I said it!”

Ford winces at his friend’s delivery, realizing maybe he should have taken the lead to reveal this information to you in a more tactful way.

Your eyes darted between Ford and Fiddleford, letting out a nervous chuckle, “Real funny guys… did you two plan this prank over the phone last night?” The story presented to you seems preposterous, out of a science fiction novel.

However, when Ford and Fiddleford stare back at you with solemn gazes, you realize that this story is the truth.

It explained the gaps of time during your time in college that you could not recall.

It explained the dreams you had every night of a person that you could never see the face of.

Your memories of Stanford had been somehow wiped from your brain.

You sit there, processing this information in silence. Fiddleford almost seems like he’s bracing for impact, ready for you to lash out at him for doing such a thing. Ford sits rigid beside you before getting up suddenly. Both you and Fiddleford look up in confusion as he reaches into the box that Fiddleford placed on the table.

His fingers pluck out what seems to be a photo and walks over to you. His warm, calloused hand brushes against yours, placing it into your hands. Staring down at it, you see younger versions of yourself, Ford and Fiddleford.

Ford was decked out in a doctoral graduation cap and gown that swallowed up his frame, a wide grin spread across his cheeks. He had his arm around Fiddleford’s shoulder, who wore a green button up shirt, brown slacks and a pair of cowboy boots. In his hands he held a sign that said ‘10 Doctorates Down, 2 More to Go’. You were wearing a flowy dress and were on Ford’s left side, his six fingers holding you by the waist.

“This was taken on one of my many graduation days, you and Fiddleford attended every single one and were cheering me on in the crowd.” Ford explains, beckoning Fiddleford to come over and look at the photo. Fiddleford hesitantly gets up from his chair, sitting next to you.

“Listen, I know you may have a lot of questions about how this even happened. I promise that in time, Fiddleford and I will tell you everything that led up to the erasure of your memories. But you need the rest of your memories for any of this to make sense.” Ford says, staring into your eyes and resting a hand on your shoulder.

His mantra after Bill wreaked havoc in his life had been Trust No One.

Yet he asks you to do the one thing that he could not do back then, “Can you please trust us?”

A mixture of emotions - confusion, hurt, anger - ran through you and you weren’t sure which one to listen to. As you looked back down at the photo, your thumb ran over where Ford was, covering up his face. Without him there, the image looked… empty.

You look up at Ford, “I’m trusting you and Fiddleford… I want to get my memories back.” You pause before continuing your statement, “How I feel about the both of you after I get them back, we’ll have to wait and see.”

Ford nods in understanding, knowing that you rightfully had your guard up. Fiddleford breathes a sigh of relief, still feeling the need to apologize, “I’m really sorry for putting you in this predicament, Y/N… I hope you’ll forgive me.” You stare at your old friend, knowing from experience that this man had a heart of gold. As confused as you were, you try to believe that Fiddleford had to have done it for some good reason.

You quickly envelop Fiddleford into a tight hug, squeezing him tightly. He squeaks in surprise and you mutter, “Whatever the reason you erased my memories is…I know you have a good heart. I’ll forgive you, Fiddleford.” You feel his flimsy arms return the embrace, and you two sit there for a bit before pulling apart.

“Alrighty then, let’s get those memories back!” Fiddleford says, getting up and rummaging through the box to retrieve a textbook that spelled out ‘Quantum Mechanics.’

You all collectively shuddered at the sight of it, groaning in unison, “Ugh, quantum mechanics” before bursting out into laughter at your shared reaction.

“Dear god, that class was terrible! Not because of the content but our professor!” Ford groaned, “I swear he spent more time teaching us about his conspiracy theories than actually covering the equations needed for our assignments.”

“Stanford, I think you might be the only one who actually enjoyed the content of it, me and Y/N were ready to pull our hair out every single class.” Fiddleford chuckled before passing the textbook over to you.

You look down at it, brushing off the dust. A wave of nostalgia hits you as you flip through the pages, remembering the sensation of your cheek being pressed against those pages before jolting up, trying to wipe off the stray drool that had accumulated on the corner of your lip. You had fallen asleep in class again, a gentle hand shaking you awake.

You pause before staring up at the both of them, “Oh my god, I think I remember something.”

“You would wake me up whenever I’d fall asleep in lecture, Ford.” You say, the memory coming back to you with more clarity, “I always nodded off in that class since it was 8 AM and I usually stayed up the night before studying for exams.”

Ford and Fiddleford both look at each other before grinning widely. “It’s starting to work!” Fiddleford says excitedly, ready to fish out another object out of the box.

“Jeez, how much stuff do you have in here?” You chuckle, getting up from your seat to crowd around the box. Your eyes scan through the assortment of objects - old textbooks from physics and mathematics courses, decor from Backupsmore and a few older photos strewn about.

“I didn’t realize you kept all these things from college, Fiddleford.” Ford says, following behind you. “I didn’t either, guess I lost track of where everything was after my mind got scrambled. Tate found most of this stuff in a box that I apparently had stashed underneath my cot when I was living at the shack.” Fiddleford chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

The three of you spent the next hours sifting through the contents of the box and with each item plucked from the box, a memory from college returned as you pieced together the fragmented slivers in your mind. Some memories did not come as quickly, causing you some frustration but you put them to the side, cataloging it for later.

Soon the sunlight that leaked through the windows began to turn into a warm orange, signaling the sunset approaching. Ford had tried to hide an embarrassing photo from you and Fiddleford which resulted in you trying to wrestle it out of his hand playfully. You ended up snagging it from his six-fingered hold after he got flustered when you started getting closer to him, practically on his lap, to try and retrieve it.

The last photo was a polaroid of Ford with his face buried into your neck, a few beer bottles littered around him. Fiddleford was clearly holding the camera, his thumb sticking out in the foreground in a thumbs up. ‘Happy 21st, S.’ was scrawled out at the bottom, slightly faded over time.

“You were a light-weight, weren’t you?” You say cheekily to which Ford crosses his arms in protest, “It was my first time drinking, what did you expect?”

Fiddleford watched contently before seeing the sunset start to creep in, “Aw shucks, the sun’s about to set. Ya’ll should head out before it gets too dark. I know this one isn’t the best at driving in the dark.” He said, jerking a thumb over at Ford.

“I didn’t realize this was a gang-up on Stanford Pines session.” Ford huffed, getting up from his seat on the floor. You follow suit, grabbing the stack of photos that had piled up and placing them in the box before asking Fiddleford, “Mind if I take the box with me, Fiddleford? I’m hoping the more I look at them, more memories will pop up.”

Fiddleford nods eagerly, “Absolutely, Stanford can give you my number if you have any questions for me. I’m sure you’ll have a ton… after you get all your memories back.” He trails off, knowing the journey ahead to recovering your memories may come with some mixed emotions.

You give Fiddleford another tight parting hug, squeezing him almost like you may not see him again. You follow Ford out, placing the box carefully into the back seat of the red convertible before driving back down the hill.

You spent most of the drive taking in the sight of the golden hues over the lush forest. Occasionally, Ford uses his peripheral vision to take a glance at you, seeing how the gemstone around your neck glows against the sunlight.

You catch him glancing once and he quickly shifts his focus back on the road, his chest puffing and his posture stiff. Your lips curl in amusement at how he tries but fails to be subtle. It’s quite charming - you were starting to see how you fell for him in the first place. “So… our relationship clearly wasn’t platonic, was it?” You ask suddenly.

Ford almost swerves off the side of the road at your question, quickly straightening his wheel as your hand reaches for the grab handle. “I didn’t realize you had put that together already..” Ford stammered before apologizing for his driving.

“Even if none of my memories had come back today, it’s pretty easy to pick up from the photos, especially the last one.” You chuckled softly before pausing. You mull over what to say next before finally speaking up, “I’m guessing we… didn’t end on the best terms, did we?”

Ford’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, his expression tense. He looked defeated - weighed down by the weight of the negative effects that his desperate chase for knowledge had on his loved ones.

Stanley, Fiddleford, you.

Ford lets out a heavy sigh, “No, we didn’t… and it is my fault. I was on this never-ending journey trying to prove my worth but in the process, I pushed away those who saw my worth just the way I was.” He looks out into the horizon, seeing the sun begin to disappear between the Floating Cliffs. “If you will allow me, I really hope I get the chance to undo my mistakes and mend our relationship… just like Fiddleford and I have.” His eyes meet yours and your expression looks conflicted… almost like you can still feel the remnants of pain that he had caused all those years ago.

“Listen, Ford… I would like to start on the path of healing what happened in the past but I just got back memories from college. I am sure there’s a few more years of history up ahead… one step at a time, okay?” You explain, wanting to level his expectations. Ford nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, “Understood, apologies for getting ahead of myself.”

As you made your way back down the winding hills, you both sat in silence the rest of the way back to the Mystery Shack. Pulling in front of the cabin, Ford shifts the car into park and clears his throat, catching your attention, “You aren’t planning on leaving tomorrow, correct? Stanley had mentioned that you had a whole trip up to Seattle ahead of you.”

You stare deadpan over at him, “Ford, I literally was just told today that a good chunk of my memories are gone. Do you really think I’m worried about my trip?” You say with an eyebrow raised. Ford blinks at your response before rubbing the back of your neck, “That’s very true, I just want to make sure I wasn’t holding you hostage in figuring this out.”

You shrug casually, “Unfortunately, I can’t just pick up and leave knowing I don’t have a good chunk of my memories.” You smile, despite everything, you were grateful for this unexpected detour. You got to reconnect with an old friend, still got to enjoy some beautiful scenery and the free lodging didn’t hurt. “Besides, Gravity Falls seems like it has its own charms I can appreciate. I’m curious about the anomalies you came out here to study - everything seems pretty normal other than those floating cliffs we passed on the way down.”

A spark lights up in Ford’s eyes the moment you mentioned anomalies, seeing him grin in absolute glee. “Well, there’s a whole bunch out there, the Floating Cliffs is truly only scratching the surface of what oddities this place has to offer. I would love to take you anomaly hunting some time. Obviously nothing too intense, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He realized what he had just said and began to stammer, backtracking his offer, “B-But only if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You giggle at his awkward charm, “I would like that. Maybe tomorrow?”

Before Ford can reply, both of you are startled by the sudden rapping of knuckles on the glass of the driver’s side window. You quickly whip your heads to see Mabel grinning, her braces on full display as she stares at the two of you through the glass. Ford rolls down the window, “Mabel, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Mabel says before whipping out her phone to reveal a slightly blurry photo of you and Ford smiling at one another from an awkward angle, “to take this photo!” Ford blinks, his eyes adjusting to look at the photo before staring at it perplexed, “I still don’t quite understand how this small contraption holds a camera in it.”

You laugh at Ford’s statement, leaning over his shoulder to take a look at the photo, “What, you don’t know how a cell phone works? Are you sure I'm the one who had their memories wiped?” Ford’s cheeks feel warm as he can feel the heat and weight of your body pressed against his back, “Great photo, Mabel. How was the roller rink?” You quickly change the subject, starting to pick up on Mabel’s matchmaking tactics.

“It was great! My friends, Grenda and Candy, and I had a slurpee chugging contest to see who could get brain freeze the fastest!” Mabel explained excitedly. “I’d love to hear more about it, how about we head inside?” You say before pulling away from Ford to exit the car and follow Mabel back into the Mystery Shack.

Ford sat there in disbelief, his brain short circuiting over how your body felt against him as well as the prospect of going on a pseudo-date with you, before resting his head directly on the steering wheel, the horn echoing through the forest. You look back in alarm and glance over at Mabel, “Uh, is your Grunkle okay?”

Mabel looks back and shrugs, as if it’s a common occurrence, “Probably, Dipper does that too against the wall when he’s overthinking something.”

You sat on the floor of the living room, listening to Mabel excitedly tell you about her adventures with her friends with Ford joining shortly after his malfunction in the car.

Dipper came downstairs, having spent most of the day reading over a strategy guide for Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons that he wanted to go over with Ford, which led Mabel to recount her day again to the new audience member.

“So, Y/N, was the trip to see Old Man McGucket a success? Did you get some of your memories back?” Dipper asks. You blink before realizing he’s referring to Fiddleford, nodding in response. “Yeah, thankfully, he had some stuff from your Grunkle Ford and I’s time at Backupsmore that helped jog some memories. Not 100% there but we’re getting there.” You share, “We actually brought some of it home to help continue to jog my memories.”

“Wait, are there photos? I wanna see young Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket! Grunkle Ford lore!” Mabel asks excitedly. You turn to Ford who seems reluctant to share with the kids, “Well, up to you if you wanna show them.” Ford hesitates for a second but the moment he sees Mabel flash the dangerous puppy dog eyes that Stanley warned him about, he’s easily persuaded, “Alright, I’ll go get the box.”

You spend the rest of the evening showing the twins memories from the past with Ford filling in some of the gaps you couldn’t quite remember still. Dipper and Mabel laugh at the sight of Fiddleford with a horseshoe mustache with Ford insisting that it was in fashion at the time. You smile at the sight of the family bonding before realizing a member was missing.

“Hey Dipper, is your Grunkle Stan not back yet? It’s getting a bit late.” You ask suddenly. Dipper takes a moment before snapping his fingers, “He mentioned something about not waiting up for him. He didn’t say where he was going, just said he was gonna be out late.” You look over to Ford who simply shrugs, “My brother is one of the toughest people I know, throws a mean left hook. He’ll be fine.” Based on everyone’s nonchalant reactions, you decide to trust that this was a normal occurrence.

The night ends with Mabel gushing over the polaroid that she found of you both, leading Ford to chase her around the Shack trying to retrieve it from her. Dipper and you doubled in laughter, watching the antics unfold.

Ford ended up stuffing it in his pocket, wanting to have at least one piece of your shared history to hold onto himself.

He wasn’t in bed… again.

You wake up yet again to the left side of the bed empty, the sheets feeling cold to the touch. The moon barely seeps light through the triangle shaped window, allowing your eyes to adjust quickly to the sight. Your eyes glance out the window. The forest is dusted white, snow coating the treetops and causing the glass to frost.

You begin what felt like a nightly routine at this time, sliding out of the bed. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep, rubbing them roughly. You slide on your slippers and make your way to the basement.

At this point, you don’t even need a light to guide the way, navigating through the dark cabin with ease. The wind howls harshly outside, its echo traveling through the quiet house.

You finally arrive, shuddering at the sudden temperature drop from the upstairs to the basement. You push open the metal door. The lab is quite messy, sticky notes with equations plastered all over and triangle-shaped figures littered around it. You see the familiar figure, frenetically writing in the red journal in front of him as the metal door creeks to signal your presence.

“Ford?” You call out, walking towards him, “Are you alright?” You ask, something felt off with the way he was acting as you walked in. Even when he would reach a breakthrough in his research, he would jot notes down with a quick yet methodical manner. Just glancing over his shoulder, the writing looked messy & chaotic compared to his neat cursive.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to halt his actions. His hand reached up, placing it atop yours.

However, rather than stroking the back of your hand like he normally would, he gripped it tightly, causing you to wince in response.

“Ow, Ford, what the hell?” You mutter, trying to shake your hand loose.

The grip only tightened as Ford’s head turned, bright yellow eyes staring back at you.

“Well, well, well, nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

You jolt awake, a thin sheen of cold sweat coating your body. Your heart practically jumps out of your throat as you look around frantically. For what, you’re not sure but your body goes into fight or flight, tossing the blankets off. The air around you feels thick and the room feels like it's closing in on you.

Your feet move automatically, rushing quickly out of the room and ascending up to where the attic floor is. You make your way down the hallway, slipping past Dipper and Mabel’s room to a hatch in the ceiling. You tug on the rope that dangles from the handle, opening it to reveal a set of stairs. You make your way up them before pushing a door that brings you to the rooftop ledge.

A gust of fresh air hits your face and you finally feel like you can breathe as you take a seat on the ledge. Placing a hand over your chest, you attempt to slow down your breath, inhaling through your nostrils and exhaling through your mouth. After finally grounding yourself, you stare up at the night sky, trying to make sense of what you just dreamt.

That was clearly a memory but why was Ford acting that way?

Why did it terrify you to the core, a knot in your stomach as you remember the yellow hue in his eyes?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car tires running over the lawn. You look down to see your car with its bright headlights illuminating the bottom of the Mystery Shack before shutting off. Stan steps out of the car, wearing all black attire and a set of black gloves, whistling nonchalantly as he makes his way to the trunk to pull out the car battery.

He hasn’t noticed your presence yet so you decide to call out, “Late night, huh?”

“Hot belgian waffles!” Stan semi-curses, almost dropping the car battery on his foot as he whips his head around before staring up to see you sitting on the rooftop in your pajamas. “How the hell did you get up there? Why are you even up there, it’s like 2 AM?”

“Did you really just say hot belgian waffles?” You can’t help but say with a tired grin, Stan’s antics taking your mind off your anxiety attack. “Had a bad dream, needed some fresh air… somehow I remembered how to get up here, my memory’s starting to come back somehow.”

“I try not to swear in front of the kids, come up with whatever euphemism rolls off the tongue.” Stan says with a shrug, “Guess today was a success, mind if I join ya? I can never fall asleep right away, got too much adrenaline in my system.”

“Sounds like you had a wild night, you sure you just got my car battery?” You chuckle before nodding at Stan’s question, “Go ahead, I could use the company.”

Stan makes his way back into the Mystery Shack, putting the battery near his toolbox to work on tomorrow before trekking up the stairs. He winces, his back aching as he makes his way up the stairs, cradling his lower back, “Jeez, I should really install one of those stair lifts at this point.”

“I don’t think you’re quite that old to justify having one of those.” You grin, scooting over for Stan to have a seat next to you, both of your legs dangling off the ledge. “If I did, Mabel would probably just put Waddles on it and have him ride up and down the stairs the whole day.” Stan chuckled.

“So any new embarrassing stories about my brother I should know about?” Stan asked out of curiosity. Despite them spending the whole past year catching up, there were still parts of Ford’s life that were still a mystery to Stan. Almost 40 years of their lives and they had just scratched the surface.

“Well, I learned he drank about 3 beers on his 21st birthday and was pretty much on the verge of passing out.” You shared, tapping your chin, “He also got into an argument with a professor when they asked him to write his papers in print instead of cursive.” Stan chortles, “Yeah, that sounds like Ford alright. I got to see how much of a lightweight he is this past year. I had to carry him back to the boat after we had a couple of drinks at a bar near the dock.”

You laugh, hearing that time had not changed much in that aspect. “I’m sure there’s more. College is a lot more clearer but everything after that is still a blur.” You trail off, still having mixed emotions about it.

Stan shifts slightly before speaking up, “Hey, uh…I’m guessing you found out that you got your memories erased, right?” You nod, eyebrow raised in confusion at how Stan knows this.

“Well, from one person who had their memories erased to another, don’t be too hard on yourself when you can’t remember. I swear there’s still stuff that the kids will tell me that takes me a minute to recall. Sometimes I don’t even remember and just try to play it off so they don’t worry.” Stan offers in a sympathetic tone.

“Jeez, Fiddleford used the Memory Gun on you too? How many people has he used it on?” You say in surprise, even more confused than you were earlier about the whole situation.

Stan sees your state of disbelief and chuckles, “I had the same look on my face when my brother roped me into all this. Ford’s actually the one who used it on me… it’s a long story but the point being is that, you’re gonna find out a lot of things that are gonna confuse the hell out of you. You’re also going to remember… a lot of painful memories.”

“My brother and I seem close now but we weren’t talking for years… and I had to relive and relearn all of that when getting my memories back. It sucked, it felt like I was being punched in the gut every time.” Stan sighs before smiling sadly, “I’m sure you’re gonna feel the same way… I don’t know what exactly happened between you and my brother but I know Ford’s gonna try whatever it takes to make things right by you.”

“Thanks, Stan. I appreciate it, makes me feel less guilty for not remembering everything.” You say with an appreciative smile before shivering slightly at the sudden breeze that picks up. Stan notices this and shrugs off his leather jacket. Shaking your head in protest, you’re quickly silenced as Stan places it on your shoulders.

You bring the material close to your frame, feeling how warm it is from Stan’s body heat. “Thanks again, I’m really looking forward to getting my memories back..." You glance at your car, a reminder of your original plans for the summer. "Well, guess I gotta return all that camping gear I bought.” You chuckle, gesturing towards the camping gear mounted to the top of your car.

Stan looks at the gear and then back at you before offering, “Why not just go camping out here? There’s a campground like half an hour away we could set up at - I’m sure the kids would love to tag along too, they’ve been itching to do stuff while they’re here for the summer.”

“Like all of us go? You think Ford would be up for that?” You ask, actually liking the idea of camping with the Pines family instead of going solo.

“If he gets to spend time with you, yeah, he’ll go.” Stan scoffs.

You pause before grinning, “Guess we should start planning.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines x you #stanford x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #stanley pines #ford pines

458 notes · View notes