#...yes I am slightly tipsy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

propertyofwicked · 15 days

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FIRST - LN

lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)

warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink

✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧

masterlist the playlist

“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.

being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.

“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.

“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.

“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.

“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.

“i ju-”

“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.

in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.

she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.

this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.

“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.

“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.

“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”

“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.

“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.

oh he knew her a little too well.

“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.

“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.

“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.

lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.

“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.

“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”

“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.

“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”

“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.

“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.

“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.

“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”

“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.

“huh?” max replied, confused.

“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.

the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.

“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”

“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”

lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.

y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.

there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.

max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.

max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?

the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.

“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.

“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.

“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.

“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.

“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.

“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.

“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.

“tell that to the scar on my back.”

“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.

“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.

“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.

“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”

“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.

“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”

“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.

he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.

“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.

“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”

his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.

“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.

“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.

“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”

his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.

“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.

“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.

“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.

“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”

“kiss me.”

“wha-”

“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”

lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.

“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.

“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.

“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.

“there’s no one i trust more.”

with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.

“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.

“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”

“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.

“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.

“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.

“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.

“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.

“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.

“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”

“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.

“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.

“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.

“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.

“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.

“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”

she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.

“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.

“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”

“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.

“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”

lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.

“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.

“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.

“yes, fuck lan. only you.”

he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.

“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.

lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.

“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.

“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.

“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.

“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.

“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.

“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.

“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.

“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.

“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.

minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.

“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.

“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.

“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.

“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”

“preach.”

✧ inbox/requests are open ✧

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

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jasminesfury · 7 months

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messy chaotic ‘we’re terrible for each other but can’t keep our hands off each other’ prompts

oh hello i am in fact alive

“do you ever actually think before speaking? like is your brain capable of processing a thought??” “yeah, it’s just immune to idiotic ones”

“take that back” “prove me wrong” (or; a cliché ‘make me’)

being in some sort of intense slightly pointless staring match (after an argument, preferably) and just saying “oh fuck it who cares” and pulling their neck down to kiss them

“do you the sex would be boring if we didn’t argue before it every time?” “i mean, we could always argue during”

^or, alt: doing it once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”

“why does everything with you have to be so difficult!?” “it’s fun getting you all riled up”

“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish”

“you’re doing it wrong” “jesus, would you just relax” “no because i’m wasting my tim- oh, oh my god-” the other character smirking, “don’t look so smug” “i think i’ve earned the right, now just trust me, okay? believe it or not, i want to make you feel good”

“so you’ll finally stop being an asshole and just sign the document?” “keep doing this and i’ll sell you my house”

getting jealous and the other character pretending that it’s unreasonable, but secretly character A is the only one they feel a spark with. the only one they feel excited to be around

“we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not”

“nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore”

“you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” “yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume”

“i hate you” “i know” “and that won’t change” “i know” “and you’re still okay with this?” no “yes”

“imagine a universe where we didn’t hate each other, that would be so-“ “boring?” “yeah! like imagine not bickering over tiny things, that’s no fun”

“she says we bicker like an old married couple”

talking with a friend; “you shouldn’t go there” “i know” “and you shouldn’t sleep with them” “i know” “it’s a bad idea” “i know” “well. will you?” “..yeah”

“i know we’re terrible for each other but every time i look at them it’s just like my brain flies out the window and my hormones take over”

“we’re broken up, it’s just two friends going out for drinks, okay?” ending up in one’s bed, but alright

“did you sleep together?” “noooo, i just-“ “tripped on a stone and accidentally dailed his number which magically led to you two meeting at a pub and you just magically teleported to your bedroom without your clothes on? yeah, thought so”

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toji-girl · 2 months

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tags: repost + drunk! fem reader + alcohol + age gap + Toji is soft and sweet but also possessive and jealous + you feel him up + he carries you + slightly suggestive + self-ship piece made for everyone to enjoy + lmk any missing tag please!

Three missed calls and one unheard voicemail.

Saturday 2:30 am, September 2nd; Hey…I called you two times, first one rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, and the second call the same thing happened, now this is the third and final time I have attempted to reach out before I come out looking. Where are you? Don’t make me ask again princess.

You stared down at your phone screen with a scoff at your boyfriend’s behavior. Dating an older man is not for the weak or the people who get annoyed easily. It was Friday night and you left his place after staying there all week.

So weren’t you entitled to go out and have some fun? You did ask if he wanted to go but said something along the lines of my back hurts not tonight doll but apparently not enough for him to come out and look for you.

It wasn’t as if you were going out with a bunch of your guy friends, sure there’d be a few but mostly it was just you and your girlfriends wanting a night out, and being twenty-eight it only made sense, right?

You stood in front of the mirror in your best friend’s bedroom flanked by your group of friends. Aya stood behind you and cupped your breasts when you took a picture. “Send that to gramps, he’d lose it.”

Cackles could be heard from your close knit of women who leaned in and made pouty faces taking another one to send to Toji who was currently at his house waiting for you to call him so he can come and pick you up.

It was after the fourth bar everyone decided to stop by Aya’s apartment since it was the closest one at the time and you were beyond tipsy sending him random messages throughout the evening. “He’s not that old.” You shot back.

“Old enough to be your dad! His son is close to our age! Have you thought about a little son vs. dad duo? I wonder who’s better at eating pussy?” She teased and changed into yet another outfit before going back out again.

Your face scrunched up as you threw a balled-up dress at her head. “You’re disgusting, and I can promise you that it’s Toji. That man had me crying last night just from - ”

You stopped mid sentence feeling your face flush, your inebriated brain played the memories of just that; the way he had your legs thrown over his shoulders as he made out with your pussy slowly fingerfucking you until you squirted.

Em who you also haven known since preschool snatched your phone from your hand to open the text thread between you and Toji. “Just from what? Maybe an older dude is the way to go, they can dick you down good.”

She sighed wistfully already like she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Do not look through our messages because you will be disappointed in me, I’m dirty.” You squealed trying to reach for your phone only to get smacked on the hand.

“Oh my god! You sent him a picture of your whole pussy?" She shrieked shoving your phone back in your chest with a loud cackle as the other girls joined in falling on Aya's bed with more laughter.

They all sat up and looked at you like you were their momma bird and they were waiting to be fed. "You are dirty, do you like it when daddy spanks you?" Aya asked in a deep tone trying her best to mock Toji.

You picked up a small plushie and threw it at her head feeling your cheeks flame to a level of uncomfortable warmth. "Stop! You guys are making me want to go back to his house and get fucked dumb and I did yes, he loves it and I love showing it off to him." You huffed.

With everyone ready you and everyone else linked arms and squeezed through the front door of the apartment and down the street not having a single clue that Toji was already two steps behind you, after the first time you didn't answer this was the only way to check on you and make sure nothing was going down.

He couldn't help but click his tongue a little as you swayed and clung to Aya who wasn't much better than you as everyone got shoved through the line and into the doors. It was a split-second decision he made to follow after, one he wouldn't regret one bit.

Toji was sure he would never fall in love again after his first marriage, the idea of his heart being shattered again wasn't something he wanted to go through with which is why he was here at almost three in the morning stalking you making sure you were okay and stayed safe; his pretty little girlfriend who keeps gushing about him.

It wasn't hard not to hear you giggle and talk about how much you love your boyfriend who does everything for you and how could you really not? Thankfully you were drunk enough that you didn't notice him standing in the corner dressed darkly with a hat covering most of his face.

"I think you should just move in with him but then we'd never see you again, what about our weekly date nights? You've been putting it off since you met gramps." Aya pouted as you and her danced close to the edge of the bar keeping your eyes on your friends and drinks.

You glared at Aya and let her tug you closer indulging in one of her favorite love languages. "Stop calling him that. He's barely in his forties and treats me so well, I do love him Aya, I really do." You admitted wishing you were in his arms peppering his face with kisses.

Aya handed you your drink with a shit-eating grin. "I just love teasing you is all, and I know older men are all that and a bag of chips but babe...you have to remember that he is way older than you with a kid younger than us, I think maybe your daddy issues are showing."

"How about you butt out of my relationship." You hissed feeling the fun bubbly feeling of being drunk turn into something else; a hot red rage that took a hold of you like a vice. You stumbled back away from her and broke away from your group of friends for a breath of air.

When you came back inside you still didn't see Toji who now moved after hearing your conversation with Aya and knew you were going to cry about it to him later which he'd happily lap up and soothe away any thoughts that would even begin to push him out of your life.

The booze in your veins pumped along with the blasting music as you nursed another drink while trying your best to pull out your phone to text Toji.

[You - 3:26 am]

srry im drink plz pick me up

Toji who was a mere few feet from you when he felt his phone vibrate which he quickly slid from his pocket to read your message clicking his tongue again as he looked over at you and his heart melted. You looked sad and defeated which is not a good thing paired with the alcohol you drank.

You hunched over the oak bar and sighed when you felt a pair of hands on your upper back, you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "What's the matter with my princess?" He asked.

Toji grasped your shoulders and pulled you back a little into his chest, the back of your head rested on his abs as he tilted your head up to look at him, unshed tears swam in your eyes. "How'd you get here so quickly?" You asked slurring your words together with a giggle.

He bent down to press a soft chaste kiss to your forehead before collecting you in his arms letting you hang off his left one almost as if you were a doll, his hand pulled your dress down before patting your ass with a heavy sigh looking for your friends to update them on you.

"I'm taking her back to my place, and I'm sure she will call you in the morning," Toji told your group of friends who only nodded in response watching you hang off of him, your head hung low. "Byeeeee!!" You squealed when he made his way to the exit.

Once he got you both outside he sat you down on your feet holding your upper arms. "Can you walk to the car? It's down the street." He asked immediately getting his answer when you stumbled back again, thankfully you were close enough he was able to wrap one large arm around your waist keeping you upright.

Toji used his strength and sobriety to his advantage to hoist you up again tossing you over his shoulder carefully, one hand rested on your ass to make sure it didn't bunch up. "Mhm! Toji!" You screamed reaching your hands down to squeeze and slap his ass hearing him grunt and huff your name.

"Making sure my princess gets home. Stop." His hand came down with a little force on your backside to catch your attention when you tried to interrupt him with a string of unintelligible noises.

You hung from his shoulder like a lifeless rag doll until he finally made it to his car and unlocked it with the key in his pocket. When he sat you down again your hands reached up to grab his pecs with a grin. "Love you and your big 'ole tits. Wanna bite 'em." You squealed.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at you but still let you get your way as you used the extra height from your high heels to motorboat him with a loud laugh. "Me and my big tits love you too, now get in the car so I can get you into bed." He ordered with a grunt.

Ten minutes later you found yourself settled into Toji's bed watching him as he cleaned your face with a washrag before he took off your fake eyelashes the best he could. "What's the point of these? They look like fuckin' spiders." He said and tucked you in earning a giggle.

Toji never got his answer seeing that you were asleep, your hand curled into his shirt still. His mind wandered about your conversation with Aya earlier and knew that you two would need to have one of your own.

#tw: alcohol #Toji x reader #Toji Fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x you

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backtothefanfiction · 8 months

Text

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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planet-marz1 · 5 months

Text

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

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You open your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning are usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head.

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos.

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy.

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emily takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?”

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gather around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, can't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quips, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbles and feigns offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You join in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leans in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos begin to wind down, the once lively house now settles into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transforms into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herd the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, follow along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensing the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announces, his tone gentle but firm as he ushers the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfold–one by one, teeth are brushed, pajamas are put on, and stories are read. The younger ones nestle into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you check on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moves gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seems to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, sharing a look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settles over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarks, his voice low.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continue the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminates your path as you and Joel make your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel pauses by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nod, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retire to your room, you can’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

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bluexiao · 1 year

Text

#“why don’t you get yourself comfortable? yes, on my lap, babe.”

–when you like sitting on their lap… and them sitting on yours | a request

CHARACTERS. Xiao, Wanderer / Scaramouche, Albedo (and) Pantalone, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe / Tartaglia; gn! Reader

THEMES. fluff. some crack? but mostly fluff and domestic. established relationship || soft xiao i’m telling yall i’m going feral. mention of reader being tipsy on kaeya’s part.

NOTES. this is originally from a request BUT THEN @ineshapanda suddenly had a BRILLIANT idea to add to this request and boom here ya go.

–them sitting on your lap

XIAO, plagued by his karma, is a Xiao that you had known for a long time. Actually, it's a Xiao that you had always been afraid of—not because of the same fears he has, but because of them—because of the fear that he has of hurting you. For with that gear comes his distance—and that is what you dread the most, to be left by him.

“Please… don’t leave.” So when you had him on your lap that one night he had an attack of his karma, and your fears vanished.

You had to lean away from his embrace ever so slightly to look into his eyes. “I won’t,” you say, hugging him tighter than you ever did—or he even let you.

And since then, you’d know that Xiao would be needing your comfort whenever find him close to your lap, or on his way crawling to them, reading to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him—a silent oath of never letting go.

WANDERER would never ever ever admit it (even to himself), but he likes your touch. Everything you do, whatever it is. And of course, it included him being on your lap.

The first time it had happened, you were just teasing him, effectively placing your hand around his waist and pulling him down with you on the bed, giggling all by yourself, and as you had begun to realize that he was silent the entire time, you were about to apologize, thinking that he was probably overly embarrassed and uncomfortable when–

“Oh?” you raise a brow at the frozen man on your lap. And he was… blushing.

“What? What’s wrong, Scara?” the words slipped out of your mouth before his reaction even processed in your mind. And when it did, he was already pushing himself off of your lap with a huff, arms crossed on his chest (too tightly at that), face painted red.

“No! Of course not!” he has this frown that looks almost like a pout–and that was when you knew that he was lying.

ALBEDO would usually be the one who ends up being busy with his work. Though this time, it was the other way around as you find yourself buried in your paperwork, stealing the time with your lover that you promised him.

“I’m really sorry, ‘bedo. I can’t let this go on until tomorrow or the Knights would kill me–at least… Jean would,” you shivered at the thought. You turn to look at Albedo only to feel his presence behind you, and soon on your lap.

“W-wha-?” you instinctively brought your hands on his sides, probably unconsciously thinking he might fall or something, only for him to nonchalantly give you a smile, responding with “No need to worry about me, I am beyond comfortable where I am.”

Ever since that day, you’d find Albedo sitting so casually on your lap as if it was the most normal thing to do.

And you know what? You never found the courage to ask him why. Well, it’s not like he’d give a concise answer other than the fact that he wanted to try it out… and he liked it.

–you sitting on their lap

PANTALONE is a busy, busy man. With this, he often would tell you not to wait on him usually, or that you could visit him in his office anytime you’d like. This day is apparently one of the days.

“This would take a while, darling, why don’t you get yourself comfortable?” he opens his arms and you step forward and climb on his lap without any other word.

He’d wrap an arm around your waist as his other one busies itself with his paperwork. He’d never remove his arm or hand from you, even if he does not talk to you with how much focus he has on his work at the moment. Though each time you would try to wiggle out the stiffness off of you, moving even a single bit, he’d notice and let you do anything you’d like. Except for moving out of his lap.

If you try to, however, he’d coax you into going back. And he’d be successful each time.

KAEYA loves to tease you. And so, you hid this desire of yours for months—heck, you could’ve lasted for more if it weren’t for that one time you had gotten tipsy.

Ah, he definitely has gotten a lot of information about you that you had purposely left out because you were too shy to tell him. And this for one is one of them.

“Whoa, whoa, you two get a room please,” the bard immediately holds his hands up once he reached the table on the far end of the bar, seeing Kaeya with a very tipsy you on his lap. And for anyone who would have seen the scene in front of them (unfortunately, like Venti did), they would’ve thought that the two of you were being… intimate. But really, it was just you cuddling him, giving him a chance to find out that “I had always wanted to do this for a long time,” according to your own words.

Your secret is not so much of a secret right now, but he definitely will make it seem like he does not know about it but would act as he does with how many times he’d pull you over to plop on his lap, urging you to stay there for a little while.

At first, it was all a ruse to “tease” DILUC, in hopes that you’d eventually catch his attention. But then, it will not be long until you find out that you actually… liked it. His warmth, the scent of his strong yet not too overwhelming perfume (that you had sent as a gift not too long ago), and the feeling of his hand on the dimple of your back, always be sure that you wouldn’t fall off of his lap anytime soon.

Most of the time, Diluc would just find you fast asleep on his lap, head leaned on his shoulder or his chest after a long time of doing nothing but watching him fill up and sign papers on his desk. He’d have this smile on his lips before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead and soon carry you gently to a place comfier than where you were.

But honestly, if you were asked, you were already content with where you are at the moment than anywhere else.

CHILDE is a naturally clingy guy. So it was not long until you found yourself sat comfortably on his lap, either when he was working in his office, or when you two were just cuddling, ridding yourselves of the coldness of Snezhanaya.

“You like sitting on my lap, babe, don’t you?” he’d raise a brow at you.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who likes it when I sit on your lap, mister.”

You were about to send him a glare only to feel his hands on your sides, and soon, he will have you laughing your ass off, his fingers trailing along your waist and anywhere else you felt particularly ticklish, saying that he won’t stop tickling you until you admit defeat.

(Trust me, if you successfully overpower him and know where his ticklish parts are, you would win)

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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strawberrysainz · 8 months

Text

secret garden. charles leclerc

“ charles joining you on holiday was definitely not planned. you begin to have small revelations. is it the wine, or are you truly thinking about his lips on yours? ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning— crude language, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, slightly mature. some shitty french, italian, spanish.

word count: 4.1k

Your book seems to begin to blur as the lethargy of a Sunday at five o’clock tends to do what it does best; make you sleepy.

That, and your previous glass of wine seemed to be catching up to you.

The universe sends a saviour in the shape of your friend Lila: she pokes your stomach so you that look up through your sunglasses. You shut the book. It’s something about a twenty-something girl in the 1960s, who joins a hippie cult, and the facts make your head spin (you really couldn’t be arsed to focus while the wine makes you drowsy). You pause the playlist on your phone to look expectantly up at her. She’s a little bit drunk too; her hair is mussed up from laying down on the lounger. The Italian sun was perfect today, white wine flowing while you both tanned the day away. Lila had invited you to her fiancé’s (he worked for Ferrari) house in Tuscany for a week in the summer. It was picturesque and romantic, but he had to work for much of it and she wanted to spend the time with a person who was there constantly. With a getaway promised years ago, she finally followed through, and your second day was just as lovely as the first.

“Up for padel?”

“You mean… le sport?” You answer, giggling slightly. “The wine is in my head now, ma chérie.” You tease affectionately and she begins to tidy up her things to go inside. “Yes, le sport,” she mocks, “‘Tonio invited us to play.” “With who as the fourth?” You ask curiously; Antonio had lamented all day yesterday that he was ‘third wheeling, alone’. Lila pauses to focus on the question, delightfully tipsy, and her hand tries to fold the towel as she thinks. “He invited Charles to come stay too, they will train and plot for the season’s second half together. Now we will third wheel on them.”

You nod then, smiling, and pack up, giggling to yourself about the looks you’ll get from those two when you turn up fabulously drunk. “Is it a hazard to play padel with athletes when the wine makes me slow?”

Lila cackles, bumping her sunglasses back up on her face, sliding on her sundress. “Tonio might flip out on us for being useless, he’s so competitive against Charles. Charles is too nice to say anything. I hope I am his partner.” She snorts, and you laugh too.

“I hope Charles brought proper drinks too. Last time we had a party at Lando’s, that tequila he brought…” you sigh at the memory. “I hope he’s also on summer mode. No offence chérie, but your boy cannot switch off unless he has a friend.” You poke fun at the fact that he will only drink one glass of wine with supper and refuse to get drunk as fuck with the two of you. Lila hits you with the pillow.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

You two Uber to the padel courts Antonio frequents in Italy, too scared to drive (rightfully so, you’re a bit shitfaced). You drink bottles and bottles of water, staring into each other’s eyes to try and sober up, but the dopey looks make you burst out laughing each time.

You end up napping for ten minutes, trying to sleep off the wine. Then you pat each other’s faces, blinking and blinking, but you end up giving up. Padel with two competitive men will be more fun not sober. When the driver drops you off, he tells you he is praying for whoever you speak to in the next minutes. You two end up in tears of laughter from God knows what. It ends with a hefty euro tip, some swear words and catching Lila from falling onto the street. Eventually you make it to the courts, picking up the two racquets the boys left for you on a bench, and you stare at Lila. “I hope we survive this.” You say seriously, and she salutes. You are in peals of laughter when you reach their court.

Charles stares at the two of you with amusement as you nearly trip over the entrance. “Avez-vous bu tous les deux?” He asks, and he receives just a wink from you, pointing at the small wine stain on Lila’s shirt.

He stifles a cackle as Lila goes to kiss Antonio sloppily, who kisses her reluctantly before gently scolding her in Italian. “Tonio, mon rêleuse, we apologise. We have only received your invitation when the wine was flowing. We also bring a level of entertainment.” You announce, brandishing the racquet. Your bluntness makes even Antonio smile. “Alright, alright. I was planning to put you two together, but maybe we’ll each pair with a drunkard, no?” He nods at Charles, who smiles.

“I’ll look after my girlfriend.” He adds, and Lila groans. “No! I wanted to play with Charles, he’s better at padel.” Antonio looks the most hurt you’ve ever seen a man be.

“Le spectacle de merde.” You whisper, at least you think it is a whisper, to Charles. “Ouais,” he giggles. You smack his arm affectionately. “Tu es tellement adorable,” you say, pursing your lips in a sweet way, and he hugs you with one arm, rubbing your back. “Laisse le vin continuer à parler, oui?”

The way in which you solidly keep hitting the ball on the wire makes him laugh.

Antonio cannot keep himself from raging at the two of you being useless, and tries to calm himself down; Lila falls on the court laughing at his aggressive muttering. You cry with laughter every time she misses the ball (which is more often than not) which leads Charles to request a glass of the wine you had been drinking. Padel has never been more fun, in your opinion: your grip gets looser and your shots stronger with every point. Charles carries your team, and you exchange a fist bump every time. Eventually you two win 11-10, and Lila jumps over the net clumsily to congratulate you both. Carlos settles for a reluctant high five. “Antonioooo…” you drag out his name, and the ridiculous grief of a tiny loss on his face makes you grin. “Can you make your tagliatelle?”

Lila clamours for it too, and he groans. “Whatever.” You two jump into each other’s arms; you end up getting another Uber back to shower and change so the boys can stop and grocery shop as well as buy you drinks, ‘not wine!’ under your instruction. When they get back, you’re slightly more sober, having showered and changed into a bikini (for a night swim) and a linen set over it.

Lila is asleep with her head on the kitchen counter while Charles pours you a rum and raspberry. You’re grateful for the different drink, the headache beginning to pound its way into your head. Antonio starts on the pasta, and you three talk about how their training was, how your poolside day went, the tourists in the city this week, paddock gossip and Charles’ new piano song, which he plays a recording of for you.

“That’s very good,” you compliment, and he blushes. Antonio is busy stirring the sauce while you have revelations. Charles clears his throat, locking the phone, and you set the table. “I’m making scones tonight,” you announce, and in the early stages of waking, Lila cheers with a yawn.

“With what?” Antonio challenges, and you wink. “I brought all the ingredients with. Jam and whipping cream. We can have some for breakfast tomorrow.” “Gotta train harder for that!” Lila jokes, flicking Charles’ arm, who giggles in that stupidly funny way.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Stomachs full and content, you and Lila float in the light of the pool. Occasionally you swat a mosquito out of your face, and your second R&R slowly slips away. “Still making the scones?” She asks, and you yawn. “Merde.”

You both laugh.

“Ti piace Cha?”

You stare at her.

“Sei pazzo? He’s most likely got some European model waiting for him in Monaco.”

“Ho visto come ti guardava.”

Your head hurts.

“Ma chérie, Cha could not look at me twice. There is nothing.” Lila makes a disapproving sound, and you splash her.

“Ho sempre pensato che non avrebbe mai potuto-“

Charles and Antonio, holding beers, make their way from the house to the pool. You shut up. You notice that they’ve also been drinking quite heavily, like you two- Charles is much too giggly, and Antonio has that drunken seriousness to him. They sit on the edge of the pool. “Where are those scones?” Antonio asks, and you roll your eyes. “Maybe I’ll make them fresh in the morning.” You yawn, making Charles do the same.

“Cazzata!” He replies, and you laugh with Lila. “Promise. I want to go horse riding tomorrow morning, the farm across the way said I could when we went with the dogs.” Lila shakes her head. “¡No puedo enfrentarme a un caballo, especialmente contigo!”

You snort. Antonio downs the beer. Charles is staring at the moon. “You okay?” You raise your eyebrows. “Just remembering last time I went riding.”

There is an awkward silence.

You can’t gauge his tone, and you make eye contact with Lila, frowning. “Well, if anyone wants to come, I would love to have them.” You clear your throat, and Antonio shakes his head. “Gym tomorrow.” Charles groans, putting down the beer. “Putain!” “You’ll have scones when you finish then,” you smile, and make to get out. “I’m going to bed if I want to get up at seven.”

Everyone wishes you a good night, and you make your way up to your room, still uneasy about Charles at the pool.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Your third day in Tuscany continues as you walk into the house; you are greeted by the dogs. The door was unlocked - a classic sign of Antonio leaving - so you knew the boys had left. You opened the large windows after taking off your boots, letting the fresh morning air in. You yawn as you put on a playlist, beginning to bake as the soft sounds of music accompany you to it.

About fifteen minutes later the scones are in the oven, and you set out some things to eat them with - as the plates clink, you hear Lila walking downstairs. “Hi,” she drags out the syllable - you smile at her ruffled brown hair - a dog is leaping up at her - and you wish her a good morning, making coffee for the both of you. She comes to sit on a bar stool, and you grimace at the remembrance of last night - where she slept for a moment or so - and she seems to recall the same. “How did you get up at seven?” She laughs. “My head was killing me.”

You laugh. “I have no clue.” “Wasn’t Charles weird last night? Or was I just drunk.” “No, he was so weird.” You are hungry to gossip (you had gone to bed before you could debrief.) “What the fuck was he on?”

Lila covers her mouth, laughing. Yet again, before you can gossip, the loud sound of the front door opening stops you. You groan and take the scones out of the oven. “Good morning!” Antonio says aloud, and you nod at the two walking in.

Lila kisses him on the cheek. “We have been hard at work.”

You grin. “How was neck day?” Charles rolls his eyes. “As incredible as you think it was.”

You laugh then, putting the hot scones on a plate. “Merde, did you do these from scratch? That’s so good.” “You burn eggs and toast, mate. Anything is so good in your eyes.” Antonio nudges Charles, who blushes furiously and smacks his arm.

You stare at Lila. She mouths some unfathomable sentence to you and you shrug as Antonio reaches for a scone. Your phone starts ringing, interrupting this strange situation, and you answer it. “Salut maman.” You answer.

“Ma chérie, comment est la Toscane? Les bons jours d'été avec toi me manquent, mon amour.”

You make a face that’s screwed up with childish embarrassment. “Tu me manques et la famille aussi, oui ? Je dois revenir en France pour visiter.”

“Papa t'envoie du champagne des cousins, et nous allons faire livrer des fleurs. Notre fille nous manque.”

“Pourquoi tant d'amour ?” You laugh.

“Sans raison.” She says innocently, and you stare at Lila, confused.

“Ton frère va se marier!”

“Quoi!” You shout, grasping your chest.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The news of your brother’s engagement leaves you still slightly concerned as Charles hands you some sort of cocktail. You take a sip and grimace at the ratio of rum to whatever else is in there. Charles laughs. “Haven’t they been together for a while?”

You shake your head, detailing that you’d met his fiancé - albeit a nice man - only once before. Antonio laughs. Lila smacks his arm. “You haven’t proposed yet, you cannot laugh.” Antonio’s face is a picture as you gasp for breath with laughter.

The sun sets on a slow evening as you laze by the pool with these people; you adore being in their company, you realise. You are still shaking your head with shock. “I can’t believe my brother is the first sibling to be married,” you grimace, and Charles laughs. “Which Leclerc will marry first, you think?” You ask him. “I don’t know. I think Lorenzo, because Arthur’s young. Definitely not me.” He emphasises with a face, and you laugh.

Hours later, you tell stories of your and Lila’s university days while the boys laugh, details of hookups and too much alcohol paint pictures of pure comedy. “Anyone want a scone?” You announce, going to make one in the kitchen. “I’ll come with,” Charles says politely, leaving the couple to themselves.

You end up pouring another R&R while you spread jam and cream, not eager to experience your hangover tomorrow morning. “Je suis un putain d’alcoolique.” Charles dismisses the thought. “S'il vous plaît, vous n'êtes pas spécial.”

You laugh. “It’s nice that you’re here. I always wanted to get to know you better.” You say off topic, switching to English, the languages getting mixed up in your slowed down mind. Charles laughs and pats your arm. “A drink makes you very emotional,” he jokes, and you make a face. “Be quiet.” “Let’s take a picture!” You switch up, mind spinning, and Charles is laughing as he takes pictures of you making scones with slow limbs, dancing, smiling, spinning.

You take a 0,5 of him in return, laughing at the weird expression on his face. You take selfies, air kissing, pulling faces, until your phone tells you you’re out of storage, and the moment is over, lipstick on his face. You laugh. He’s quiet.

“I can wipe it off,” you say quietly, trying not to ruin the comfortable energy in the kitchen. He lets you do it tenderly with a baby wipe, big expressive eyes staring into yours, wide with the relaxation of alcohol flowing through him. He leans in and you lurch back, shocked at the prospect of you two.

He pretends like he didn’t do anything, the little shit, and your eyes narrow as you pinch his ear. He cries out in pain, and tries to get you back, but you’re running with the scones in one hand and the drink in the other, cackling into the dark night, the comfort of the warmth.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The next morning is rough.

You’re woken up with a lurching stomach, violently hungover. You decide a swim under the Italian sun is going to help, and change, going to the pool. Antonio is there, swimming laps, and you hover awkwardly around the pool before getting in. He greets you softly, not wanting to disturb the birds chirping down at the vineyard and the peace of the morning. “There’s this song,” you say, dipping your head into the cool water, relishing this delightful feeling that comes with the activity of swimming like a child. “I used to listen to it every day of my last year of uni. It’s this song that makes me feel so great inside. And I realise that I feel that way when I’m with all of you. Thank you for inviting me.” Antonio looks touched, as much as a guy could at that revelation. “You’ve still got three days with me. That could change your mind.”

You laugh, diving underwater.

From the kitchen window, Lila and Charles are talking, unbeknownst to you. She grabs his arm aggressively as he moves to take the fresh cup of coffee. “Do you like her?” He jumps with fright. “Merde- she’s very nice?”

Lila raises her eyebrows.

He groans. “You aren’t going to ask me if I like like her as if I’m twelve.” “Charles!” She folds her arms, and he casts his gaze to you lazing in the pool.

“No.” He says stubbornly, and he might have convinced her but he hasn’t convinced himself. Lila lets out a huff as she turns back to the breakfast she’s making; he looks down at the floor.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles offers you wine. You nearly smack the bottle out of his hand. “No.”

The early afternoon is the precursor to your declaration of sobriety for the day; you and Lila take the dogs for another walk, getting dragged by their leashes as they leap and bound. You end up at the gym with her afterwards, sweating out your fatigue, and you try not to stare at Charles as he and Antonio walk in. Another game of padel is offered afterwards, and you two accept, playing away yet another lovely day and beginning of the evening. You’re much better at padel when you’re sober.

Then Antonio and Charles want to go clubbing, and you agree wearily, going back with them to change into some little strappy top and skirt. You have never decided your stance on clubbing - you love a night out somewhere, but the thought of it annoys you now, the prospect of a night in after a long bath sounding much better.

You and Lila pretend you’re back in your uni days, dark eyeshadow and dramatic makeup, perfume stinking up the room. You laugh at the two of you as you slip on some high heels, red lipstick everywhere, mascara accidentally smudging as you absentmindedly wipe your face.

You fix it before you’re running down to the car when you hear Antonio shouting about your tardiness. It’s a 4x4, and you slide chaotically into the middle seat next to Charles, Lila hopping in afterwards, your knee touching Charles’, skirt riding up. You let out a breath as Antonio has a bit of a nostalgic moment - he met Lila on a night just like this, with you two, at a club in Madrid.

“I feel nineteen again,” you laugh, seven years ago finding you again, the smell of Charles’ cologne rooting you back in the present. The driver is chattering on about Ferrari as you get Charles to take pictures of you and Lila, posing, then judging the pictures, high-fiving him for his great photography skills. You post one to your story, all wide eyes and pouty lips, and your followers begin to reply things about all those years ago.

You’re at the club twenty minutes later, a Khalid song sending you out of the car. You grab Lila’s arm and hug her, intensely nostalgic. Charles demands more pictures of you - Antonio agrees - you two must look good. He takes more, and then you’re all taking photos in the street light, and you’re handing your phone to some random girl who takes photos of all of you. She mumbles something in Italian and Charles thanks her very much before you’re all bundled into the club.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles comes to drape his arm over your shoulder an hour later, sweaty, and he’s got lip gloss on his lips. You point at your own lips pointedly and he exclaims something that’s lost in the noise. He lifts up his shirt to wipe his sticky lips and your gaze is caught on his abs as his hand brushes his chest. You look away hurriedly.

A dull ache propels you onto the dance floor, and some guy leans in to kiss you and you let him, annoyed and jealous. But his breath smells terrible, stale, and you’re pulling away, shuddering, and run to the bar for some water.

You’re still retching like a cat with a hairball ten minutes later when Charles finds you again, and he laughs with confusion. You roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you shout in his ear, and he follows you, a hand ghosting your back. You shiver and run out into the heat.

You pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and you light one hurriedly, the taste of that guy still horrid in your mouth.

You offer the cig, lipstick-stained, and Charles hesitates before you shrug. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, and you shrugged. “Only when I’m out.”

He nods then; you lift up the cigarette to his lips. He takes a drag, eyes shining outside the fluorescent light of the club. You breathe, and you can see a teenager standing beside you instead of a man in his twenties, sneaking a smile and a smoke in secret.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

It’s 2:26. You scroll on your phone as Charles talks lowly on the phone beside you (Leila and Antonio found some friends and decided to stay). You stare out at the moon, the light highlighting your face as you look back at Charles briefly. He’s already looking, and smiles slowly, bashful to have been caught. You can’t hide a smile.

His hand is laying tentatively on the middle seat, and your hand is on your knee. You both stare.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

He’s pulling out a bottle of wine as you tumble into the house, the night welcoming you back to the villa. Your eyes are wide and his focussed on the glasses in his hand, walking carefully out onto the patio. You fall into a slightly uncomfortable metal chair and he pours a glass in the dark, squinting as you hear some crickets. You accept a glass with a quiet thanks and he sits down next to you clumsily, and the wine sloshes out onto his shirt and he curses quietly. You grin.

One of the dogs pad out onto the wood and the click of its nails makes your nose scrunch and it tries to jump on your lap; with a groan you attempt to shove it off and Charles gets up, laughing, pushing, and somehow he ends up staring into your eyes, bending down, and some force of nature propels you to capture his lips with yours. You let out a little sigh as he wraps a hand in your hair, and he’s pulling you up and the glass is forgotten and it’s twilight hours in the dark.

The trembling anticipation of a new lover ignites a new energy there outside. You wrap an arm around his neck and you both push forward against each other. It’s the kind of kiss where everything just works; your lips slot so perfectly, and his hair feels soft beneath your hazy movements.

The dog interrupts by licking your knee, and you move backward with a shudder. He’s moving in again, shoulders taut, and his arms are smooth as your hands grasp them, bodies moving sensually under the light of the crescent moon above.

Your watch beeps and you look down to see a notification from Lila. You ignore it. Charles is instead running fluid hands over your hips, liquid gold, and you’re melting, drowning in the heavy look in his eyes. It’s as if the puzzle piece has just slotted into place. A newfound frenzy causes you to pull him slowly into the house, bare feet meeting the dark wood below. You nearly crash into a glass window before you’re in the kitchen, and he’s bending your back slightly over a counter, finding your neck with his lips, nipping, sucking, and you’re parting your lips with delight, body moving with his.

His facial hair is scruffy, and the sensation causes you to arch a little and he slams you back down. You moan.

He grins.

A hand flits up your back, under the shirt, feeling the skin, and you shiver when he rubs a thumb over a piece of your spine, and he’s leaning back to study you, cheeks pink in the dark, and he goes back in for a kiss, smiling broadly.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1

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bigball-thefrog · 1 month

Text

In The Captains Cabin:Shanks X Reader

______________________________

Finally back from writers block and I come back with the longest thing I've written and it's smut! I hope you enjoy and I hope I don't get writers block again for awhile

Warnings and Tags:

Smut

Some fluff

Oral

Reader has female genitals but gender is not stated

Rough sex

Soft sex

It's reader's first time and they're nervous

Experienced Shanks

Both are slightly intoxicated but both are consenting

Usage of safeword

______________________________

Reader POV

After being on the crew of the Red Haired Pirates for almost six months, I never expected to be here in the captains quarters with his hand firmly gripping my hip while his tongue was deep down my throat.

There isn't much back story to this, we were all drunk again and while I was feeling bold and tipsy, Shanks invited me to sit down with him and I decided to sit on his lap. We joked about it but I ended up moving around too much and now here I am about to lose my virginity to my captain. His hand moved from my hip to my ass as he gave it a playful slap before pulling away from the kiss, "You ready for this sweetheart?" he askes as he moves his hand to hold my chin. "Can we maybe just establish a safe word before we start?" I ask sheepishly. He chuckles and pinches my cheek, "So cute. Of course sweetheart, whatever will make you most comfortable." He kissed my forehead before thinking, "How about.... Rum?" he suggests. I nod in agreement, "Rum... It's good, just as long as there's a safe word to use." "Alright, so Shall I begin sweetheart?" I nervously nod and Shanks smirks.

He leads me to his bed and pushes me on it. I lay down on my back with my legs hanging over the sides. Shanks gets closer and places himself between my legs as he starts to get undressed. He unbuttones his shirt, revealing his toned upper body. He caught me staring and chuckled, he took my hand and placed it on his chest, "Just feel that Sweetheart." I ran my hand over his chest and he let out a soft moan and smirked. I brought my other hand up and started feeling up his body. It just felt... So nice touch. The skin, the hair, a few scars here and there. It was almost hypnotic to touch and squish, so distracting that I didn't notice the sound of Shanks unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants. Shanks whistled to get my attention back and when I looked at him he gestured for me to look down. I did so and was met with the sight of a good eight inches in front of me. I froze up a bit and just looked back at Shanks, who was just laughing at my reaction, "You're cute you know that? This is my favorite part with people's first times, they never expect it to be so big and when they see it they get second thoughts. So I'll ask again sweetheart, do you want to continue darling?" he asked with a smirk. I nervously nodded and he bent down and gently grabbed my chin, his face becoming serious, "I need your verbal consent sweetheart." "Y-ye-" "With confidence dear, so I know you're absolutely sure about this." I took a deep breath before speaking again, "Yes, I am ready for this." He smirked again and took his hand from my chin down to my pants.

He teasingly played with the hem of my pants and underwear before ripping them off, leaving me exposed to his eyes. His eyes narrowed and his smirk grew from the sight of my already wet entrance, "Already so wet for me darling? You might be more excited about this than I am~" he said as he brought himself closer and placed the tip of his penis against my entrance, "Just remember, the safeword is rum. And if absolutely anything I do makes you feel uncomfortable then use it, alright darling?" "Yes Shanks." He nodded with a satisfied grin before placing his hand on my hip. I tensed up my body as I felt him move his hips closer and before I could properly mentally prepare myself he thrusted his entire length inside me causing me to gasp and causing him to moan, "Fuck sweetheart... You feel amazing~" I only managed to let out a shaky whimper in response, he chuckled and gently rubbed my hip before gripping it firmly. He gave me one last look of reassurance before he began thrusting inside of me. He started at a slow pace, letting me get adjusted to his size, it was kinda painful and not really feeling good at first, but after a few seconds I quickly started to get used to it and the arousal started to grow, but the pain was still there. After seeing me relax a little, Shanks started picking up the pace, little by little and after about two minutes of speeding up his thrusts he was now going deep and fast inside me, hitting my sweet spot each time but also making it more painful. I thought it was apart of the process and thought I would get used to the pain but it just wouldn't go away so I was really starting get uncomfortable. Shanks was just enjoying himself as he continued to thrust fastly into me while gripping my hip firmly. I was really getting uncomfortable now and the pain was getting borderline unbearable, causing me to tear up, Shanks saw this and thought I was just getting close to my orgasam, "You like that sweetheart? Feels good doesn't it?~ I just squirmed and whimpered, still feeling too overwhelmed to do anything. At this point the dirty talk and the painful thrusting was just getting so bad so I finally just snapped.

"RUM, RUM. PLEASE JUST STOP!!!"

Shanks instantly stopped and pulled out, looking shocked and concerned as he helped me sit up, "What's wrong sweetheart? What did I do wrong?" He softly asked as he began caressing my head to calm me down, "E-everything! It all hurt and just felt uncomfortable, I felt like I was going to be split in half!" I cried out. Shanks brought me closer to let me cry on his shoulder while he pondered what I said. A minute later he put his hand under my chin and made me look up at him, "Alright, I think I just got too excited when you said it's your first time. Being someone's first time is always exciting and I kinda got too caught up in the excitement of taking your virginity that I forgot that this was also supposed to be an amazing time for you too. I'm sorry sweetheart." I nodded in understanding and he gave my chin a little squeeze, "If you give me a second chance I'll be better this time." He said now with a soft smile rather than his previous lustful look. I was nervous to try that again but he seemed genuinely sorry for being too rough. "Okay.... I'll try it again." Shanks smiled and kissed my forehead before getting down on his knees, "I'll get you in the proper mood first this time." I looked down at him curiously as he brought his face closer between my legs. Gave my thighs a few kisses before he planted his mouth on the folds of my pussy, I shuddered a little and after a small moan from him he stuck his tongue out and began eating me out. I gasped and tried to close my legs but Shanks used his hand to pry my legs back open. He lapped up my wetness and moaned in delight, he moved his hand from my thigh and to my pussy and stuck two fingers in. I moaned this time which caused him to smirk as he kept lapping up my juices. He rolled and played with my cunt gently, causing it to swell and turn red, making me start to really feel aroused.

I began moaning more frequently now really starting to enjoy it, Shanks sped up a little bit but looked up at me every so often to make sure I was still enjoying myself. I could start to feel a weird feeling start to grow down in my stomach and it was growing quickly. I started moaning louder, "Shanks, somethings happening, my stomach feels weird.." "Shhh, don't worry darling, just let it happen." Shanks reassured me and continued eating me out. My moans grew more desperate and the feeling in my stomach was growing fast. Then I threw my head back with a loud moan as a feeling of ecstasy came over me. I squeezed my legs around Shanks' head as I rode it out and when it finished I unclenched my legs from his head and just layed back panting. Shanks moved his head from between my legs, also panting, his mouth glistening from my slick. He removed his fingers and licked them clean, he moaned and looked back at me, "You taste amazing darling~ I think it's about time we move on with the foreplay and try again at what we first did hmm?" I hesitantly agreed and he got up from his knees. This time he put my legs up over his shoulders, "You sure you want to do this?" "Yes, I think I'm too flustered to stop." He smirked and leaned down for one last kiss before trying to insert his cock back inside me. This time he gently pushed himself against me, taking it slow this time, and after the foreplay it slid in much easier and hurt less. "Much better now that you're all wet my dear." He whispered before beginning to thrust again, but due to his size it became uncomfortable again and said the safeword again. Shanks sighed before pulling out and scratching his head, "We're not going to get anywhere if you're still uncomfortable. Are you really sure you want to do this?" "Yes I am, I'm just scared..." Shanks sighed and looked around his cabin trying to find something that would help, his face lit up as he moved to his drawers to get something. After digging round for a minute he came back with something in his hands and stood back in front of me. He then placed pink teddy bear on my chest and smiled, "A little friend for you to squeeze your stress away while we do it." I take the teddy bear in my hands and put it close to my chest, it does help me relax and I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in. Shanks rubs my hair reassuringly and speaks, "There we go, do you think we can try again now?" I nod and he got back into position again.

With my legs back over his shoulder he trusted back inside of me, I clutched the teddy bear tightly and it actually helped me relax a little. Shanks waited for me to tell him to carry on and I nodded. He thrusted at a slow place and didn't go any faster, the uncomfortable feeling from his length started coming back but this time I hugged the teddy bear and it helped me calm down. Soon the uncomfy feeling went away and I got used to his size, I now started enjoying it and moaned. Shanks smirked, "How are you feeling darling?" "B-Better. You can go a little faster." Shanks sped up his pace and placed his hand on my stomach. He kept at this pace, not too slow and not too fast, just perfect. He bent over and started kissing me from my tummy to my neck, being as gentle possible. His hand moved from my stomach to my thighs, gently squeezing and caressing them as he continued at the same pace. That feeling of ecstasy started building up again making me start whimpering. "You close baby?" Shanks asked. "Yes, very close." I mumbled out. "Me too baby, just try and hold it a little bit longer, I wanna cum with you." I nodded and tried to hold back the growing feeling but it was growing quickly and was very overwhelming. Shanks started moving faster to get us both to cum faster, which it just made it more overwhelming to hold back. Shanks' hand went to my hip and he gripped it tightly, "Come on baby, come for me." He groaned out and with that, I buried my face in the teddy bear and practically screamed out in ecstasy as Shanks and I both came at the same time, his seed coating my walls white and filling me up. Once we both rode out our high, Shanks pulled out and collapsed next to me. After a minute to recover he properly got in the bed and pulled me up next to him.

"You were amazing sweetheart~ How was your first time sweetheart?" "Good.." "Only good? Guess I'll have to try harder next time then darling~" I blushed at his implications that this wouldn't be the only time, I hugged the teddy bear tight and burried my face in it again. "So cute~" Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. "Get some rest sweetheart, and tomorrow I'll make sure your body recovers from tonight

#one piece #one piece anime #oneshot #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #shanks #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #op shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #shanks smut

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celiastjamesoscar · 8 months

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We Fell in Love in October

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Late night talks with Sam were always your favorite, especially on the roof while you two admired the sky together

Warnings: drinking, smoking, light cussing, soft Sam

AN: A quick one for my birthday; I hope you guys like it!!

Word Count: 3.0K

“Tara! Get down from there!” Sam yelled at her sister, but it had no use. Having a girl's night was supposed to be fun and relaxing, but as Sam watched Tara and Mindy have a sword fight on the kitchen island, she started to regret allowing them to come over. It didn’t help that Anika cheered for Mindy, which only fueled Tara’s desire to win even more.

“Are you having fun?” A voice spoke from behind Sam, and she turned to face the voice. You stood with a slightly staggered stance, but a love sick grin was plastered on your face as you admired Sam’s features.

You met Sam through Mindy, and you instantly fell in love with the Latina. She was headstrong and stubborn, but she cared for the people she loved and would do anything for them. Your relationship with Sam was a rocky one, to say the least. Silent conversations and stolen glances were all your interactions for the first couple of months until Sam gained enough courage to talk to you. She asked you where you were from and what you were going to college for, and then she asked you about your hobbies, and you found out that you both had a shared love for the outdoors.

After many quick conversations and late-night phone calls, you and Sam started hanging out one-on-one. From movie nights at her place to hiking together, you enjoyed your weekends together. You soon found yourself falling harder for the woman, and in turn, she felt herself fall for you as well. But she wasn’t ready to open up to that kind of vulnerability, not after everything her ex-boyfriend put her and her sister through. But it became harder for Sam to push back her feelings of love for you as she looked at your love-sick face and dopey smile.

“If by fun, you mean trying to get my drunk sister off the kitchen counter before she falls and dies, then yes, I am having the time of my life,” Sam stated, and you chuckled at her words and leaned into Sam’s side. Usually, she would push you off of her, but tonight, she wanted to push things with you. She silently hoped that all of these admiring from afar would pay off in the end.

“Come on, Sam! Tara is having fun! And if she falls off and breaks her neck, at least she would die having fun!” You retorted with a small laugh, and Sam’s heart fluttered as words got caught in her throat. Sam was never one to get easily flustered, but you changed so many things for her.

“Whatever,” Sam huffed with a small laugh as she moved to sit on the couch, not expecting you to follow her and sit right next to her. “What?” Sam asked as you stared at her with innocent doe eyes and that same love-sick grin. “You’re beautiful, Sam,” you breathlessly whispered, enchanted by the woman’s beauty.

Of course, you had had a few beers yourself tonight, and you were a little tipsy, but you still knew what you were saying. You just needed a little liquid confidence to tell Sam how you felt finally, and if she rejected you, you could say that you didn’t remember anything and blame it on the alcohol. It was a win-win situation for you. You wanted Sam to be your girl, but you would settle for a friendship.

“Oh, thank you. I guess,” Sam trailed off at the end as she felt heat creep up the back of her neck. She’d been called pretty before, and even hot, but you were the first person ever to call her beautiful, and Sam loved it every time the sentence left your lips.

“We have got to work on the way you accept compliments, Sammy,” you joked as you shuffled around on the couch and laid your head on Sam’s lap, pushing the barrier between you two. Sam nearly choked on her spit as you got comfortable in her lap, especially when you took Sam’s hand and placed it on your lower stomach as you stared up at Sam.

“You’re insufferable,” Sam joked as she looked down at you and softly smiled while tracing patterns on your stomach. “I know, but you love it,” you retorted while sticking your tongue out at her. The older woman was getting ready to argue, but the words died on the tip of her tongue when you grabbed her hand and placed it underneath your shirt, letting her hand rest on the lower part of your stomach.

“Your hand is warm, and I’m cold,” you defended, but it’s not like Sam would argue against you; it caught her off guard. You were always physical with her, constantly touching her in some way. At first, it made Sam uneasy, as if you were trying to figure out how strong she was in case you needed to fight her off. But after Sam realized that’s just how you showed affection, she had grown to love your touch and the warmth that came with it.

Sam just laughed at your defense and soon began tracing light patterns on your stomach, and you hummed in response. “How are you feeling?” Sam questioned as her fingers drew stars around the small scar on your stomach. “I feel free!” You exclaimed with your hands and nearly hit Sam in the face.

With her free hand, Sam grabbed your hand closest to her face, brought it down to your stomach, and dropped it. You whined at her action and held Sam’s free hand before interlacing your fingers.

“Have I ever told you that I love your hands?” You commented as you held Sam’s hand. Your free hand traced over the visible veins in the Latina’s hand as you fantasized about her hand. “No, I don’t think you have,” Sam replied with a bit of weariness, unsure where this conversation was going. Her hands had killed people, and she was terrified that her violent hands might cause harm to you in the future.

“I love that they are rough. They bring me a certain kind of comfort that I’ve never felt before,” you stated as you continued admiring Sam’s hand while her other one continued drawing stars around your scar, “They are one of my favorite things about you, Sam. They are a lot like you; rough, but under the surface, they are extremely soft.”

A small laugh left Sam’s lips as you finished your sentence. “I am not soft,” she stated. “Yes, you are! You are the softest person I have ever met! You’re just a grumpy old man who loves your people,” you retorted, and Sam’s brain short-circuited at the mention of ‘her people.’

She hasn’t considered that since you wedged your way into her life, you were basically a part of her found family. Tara loved you, and she constantly told Sam that; Sam believed it was a way of Tara letting her sister know that she had her approval to chase after you. The twins adored you and considered you their triplet, and Anika was your best friend. It was safe to say that Sam would be around you for a long time to come, and hopefully as your girlfriend.

“Whatever,” Sam muttered as she moved to stand up and moved you off of her lap, but you forced her to sit back down. “I’m not done with you yet,” you demanded, and with that look in your eyes, Sam hated how it made her feel. She was never one to give in to other people's demands, but she couldn’t help but be submissive to you, even with just the little things.

“As I was saying,” you continued as you moved back to your original position, and Sam replaced her hand underneath the hem of your shirt and began tracing patterns on your skin, “Your hands are attractive. I hope that’s not weird, but they really are,” and Sam seemed to be taken aback by your statement at first.

“No, you’re fine. It just surprised me, that’s all,” Sam whispered as she watched you play with her fingers. She wanted to hold your hand in public and place gentle, loving kisses on your hand, but she was sure you didn’t feel the same.

“I have thoughts about them as well. I wonder what they would feel like-” The loud shriek of someone falling off of the kitchen island stopped any embarrassing words from leaving your lips.

You shot up from Sam’s lap and watched Tara drunkenly wave her fake sword in the air while Anika checked on Mindy. “You fucking cheated! You do it every time!” Mindy shouted as she rubbed her elbow while sitting on the floor. “If you ain’t first, you’re last!” Tara slurred, making no effort to get off the counter.

“That doesn’t even apply to the situation!” Mindy exclaimed while standing up, getting ready to get into a fight with the more petite girl. Tara jumped down off the counter and picked up Mindy’s lost sword.

“Swear fealty to me!” Tara demanded while holding the plastic sword at Mindy, but the girl swatted it away and started an argument with the youngest Carpenter.

As the argument grew, you needed space from the loud noises. It wasn’t that you hated being around them; it was just loud noises drained your social battery, and you were ready for peace and quiet.

So, you quietly excused yourself from the couch with Sam and left the apartment. You weren’t going home; you were going up to the roof for comfort. Even though you lived in the city and could hardly see the stars most nights, tonight was a beautiful sky with a fantastic blanket of stars covering the vast darkness.

You enjoyed the still night sky with your thoughts about a long-lost commander for several minutes before you had the roof door open and close.

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked as she walked toward you and sat beside you on the bench. You don’t know why a bench was up here, crackhead Mike probably brought it up one night, but you were thankful for it. It was faintly chilly outside, and you had forgotten a jacket. You just hoped Sam would pick up on the hint sooner rather than later.

“‘I swear fealty to you, Clarke kom Skaikkru. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people,’” you stated out into the night, recalling the teary scene.

A few beats of silence pass before Sam replies, “‘In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey on the ground. May we meet again.’”

You gave Sam a small, dry laugh as you wiped a small tear from your eye, recalling that painful scene. “I didn’t know you watched that show,” you said. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have. Lexa and Clarke completely wrecked me,” Sam joked as she bumped her shoulders against you, and you enjoyed the quick contact of warmth.

Noticing that you were cold, Sam said nothing as she removed her jacket and handed it to you. “No, I can’t take that from you. I’ll just go back downstairs and grab mine,” you said as you stood up, but Sam gently grabbed your wrist. “Y/N, just take the fucking jacket,” Sam stated, leaving no room for argument.

You gave Sam a small smile as you put on the jacket; the smell of Sam instantly flooded your nose. She smelt like home to you, and you couldn’t get enough. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you sat back down next to Sam, shoulders pressing against each other and thighs touching. “You’re welcome,” Sam responded as she looked down at you with the softest smile ever, and all you wanted to do was kiss her soft lips.

“So,” Sam asked before clearing her throat, “How did you get that scar?”

You groaned at the question, “You want to know? Because it’s stupid and embarrassing.” Sam laughed at your reply, “Now I want to know more about it.”

With a small sigh, you looked up at the sky as you talked, “When I was twelve, my cousin got me this badass skateboard. So, I tried to get on it, and it shot right out from underneath me.”

“Wait, how did you get the scar?” Sam asked with an eyebrow raised. “I fell on my knife,” you replied with a small smile.

“You look like someone who would carry around a knife when you were a kid,” Sam joked as she stood up and walked toward the roof's edge. You quietly watched as she picked up the cigarette pack she always left on the roof, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

“You know, those things kill,” you stated while walking over to Sam, who took a drag of her cigarette. “I figured I was going to be dead by the time I was 25; this is me celebrating,” Sam joked with a small hint of sadness in her voice that you picked up on. You knew about her past drug addiction, and you never judged her for it. It was one of the many reasons Sam fell for you.

You snapped your fingers at Sam and motioned to the cigarette box, and Sam gave you a puzzled look before handing you one. “You know, those things kill,” Sam restated your words from earlier as she handed you the lighter. “Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled with the cigarette between your lips.

A few shitty attempts at lighting the lighter passed before Sam said, “Give me that,” and took the lighter from you. She cupped her hand around the cigarette, and with the other one, she lit the cigarette for you. Sam was so close to your face that you could feel her breath fanning your face as it escaped past the cigarette in her mouth.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble after Sam pulled back from you and gave you unwanted space. “No problem,” she responded while taking a drag. You had never smoked, only a few cigars on special occasions with friends, and surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. Well, truth be told, it felt like a million fire ants were crawling down your throat, and you wanted to scream into the starry night sky, but you would never show that amount of weakness in front of Sam.

The two of you smoked while looking up at the sky and watching cars drive by on the road below. The silence between you two was peaceful and filled with reciprocated yearning and longing.

Sam finished her cigarette while she watched you put yours out and lay down on the middle of the roof. She said nothing as she threw hers on the ground, stepped on it, walked toward you, and lay down to the left of you.

A few beats of silence passed before you spoke up and pointed at the sky, “That’s Orion’s Belt right there.” Sam moved closer to you to see exactly where your finger was pointing, and sure enough, she saw the constellation you were talking about. “And then over there,” you moved your hand a few inches to the right and up a bit, “Is the Taurus constellation.”

“I didn’t know that you knew this much about the constellations,” Sam whispered as she turned her head to look at you, and when you did the same, her breath fanned your lips. If you only moved a few inches, you would taste the lips you had longed for, but you didn’t want to do anything Sam might not like. You were always gentle with her, and Sam had a love-hate relationship with it. Sometimes, she just wished you would make the first move, but you don’t always get what you wished for.

“What if I told you I’m just making shit up?” You stated with a soft smile, and Sam felt her heart melt as she looked from your lips to your gentle and loving eyes. “You make a very believable liar then,” Sam joked, causing you to laugh. God, that laugh of yours was enough to drive Sam mad, and she wanted to be the only person to pull it from you. The thought of other people making you laugh drove Sam insane, and her mind was full of insecurities before she finally caved to her desires.

“I think some people are written in the stars, like you and-” That was the last thing you were about to say before Sam cupped your left cheek with her left hand and kissed you. Her lips tasted like cigarettes, but you would be damned if they weren’t the best thing you ever tasted. Sam’s lips were soft against yours as if she was afraid to move them, but you kissed her back, and soon your lips began dancing together.

The sound of soft kisses and quick breaths filled the air as Sam moved between your legs and on top of you. You cupped her cheeks as her tongue found itself at home in your mouth, and you allowed Sam’s hands to travel your body and explode.

“Sam! Tara just punched- Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice said, causing you and Sam to pull apart. Anika stood at the entrance to the roof with a smug smile, clearly not surprised to see Sam on top of you with her tongue down your throat. “Okay, I’ll be in there in a minute,” Sam whispered with bruised lips as she pushed herself off you and got to her feet. Anika gave Sam a nod before disappearing back into the building.

Sam extended a hand out to you and helped you off of the ground. “Sam, I am so sorry about-” the woman in question interrupted you for the second time that night by placing her lips against yours, and you sighed into the kiss.

“Don’t apologize for anything, mi amor,” Sam whispered against your lips before placing a final peck on them. “Come on, let’s go see what kind of trouble Tara has started,” the Latina stated while reaching for your hand, and you quickly accepted, interlacing your fingers together.

There might have been a quick trip to the emergency room, and someone might have gotten stitches, but none of that mattered. You finally had your girl, and you refused to let anything ruin your perfect night with her. Sam was your girl, and you couldn’t be happier.

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Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff

#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #Spotify

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jasminesfury · 1 year

Text

drunk prompts

feel free to use!! tag me <3

cw: alcohol, cursing

“is it the alcohol or are your eyes always this pretty”

“wait did i uh..call you last night” “…” “hello?” “wait you seriously don’t remember?”

“if you hold this against me for this i will fucking kill you but uh did we make out last night or was that a dream” “excuse me” “just answer the question” “..i think i would’ve remembered that so definitely dream” “ah. yes. thank you. appreciate it” *walking away* (screaming so that they can hear them) “ALSO I’M TOTALLY HOLDING THAT AGAINST YOU ARE YOU KIDDING”

“never pegged you for a horny drunk”

“wait we didn’t…right?” “wait you don’t remember? did i not give it to you good enough?” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SERIOUS OH MY GOD WHAT I CANT BELIEVE I-“ “calm down nothing happened contrary to what you believe i do have self control and you were clearly not in any condition to consent to literally anything”

character A blatantly flirting with character B and B is wondering if this is just because of the alcohol *and kinda wishing it isn’t*

“why am i in your flat” *other character raises an eyebrow* “name i will fight you” “oh calm down you called me in the middle of the night complaining about how bananas aren’t pink and started crying and then you threw up and the-“ “I GET IT” “also did you really think you could fight me that’s so cute”

^ “yeah so then i brought you here” “oh..well um..thank you. i appreciate that”

character A kissing a drunk character B (who is coming onto them strong) and then realising they’re drunk and being like “no i can’t believe i’m saying this but no, not like this”

both just being slightly tipsy but not drunk and just laughing together

“you’re..you’re actually kinda cool” *laughs and holds hand to heart* “i’m honoured”

B listening to A cry about their ex when they’re drunk and comforting them and saying “you deserve so much better”

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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typingcorgi · 1 year

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can't quit you

rating: e (minors, please shoo. you will be blocked) word count: 4.1k+ pairing: joel miller x f!reader warnings: mention of age difference, tipsy sex, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable but totally fuckable joel, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie, praise kink makes brain go brrr, taylor swift references if you squint, porn with plot, moody-ish joel, no use of y/n summary: joel miller isn't able to tell you what you mean to him, but he can show you. author's notes: this is probably the fic I'm most proud of (not that I've written very many) and if you read, i would absolutely love feedback, reblogs, or comments. tell me what you like! tell me what you hated (kindly pls lol). i am open to feedback and love praise can't you tell so enjoy reading your thoughts. now enjoy getting dicked down (respectfully) and thank you to @foli-vora for letting me pick your brain on some of the plot devices; truly appreciate it (:

Right now, you have two things on your mind: cheap whiskey and Joel Miller.

The former comes from the promise of your smuggler who’d agreed to deliver an unopened bottle of Rittenhouse in exchange for three or four cigarettes you’d hand-rolled that morning. Quality tobacco is a thing of the past, so you’re fine with offering up one lackluster product in exchange for another slightly less lackluster product. There’s a good chance the bottle will be half-empty by the time your visitor makes it to your meeting spot. No one is ever as good as their word anymore, and their word means virtually nothing.

You hold Joel Miller to his promises, though. He said he’d run out to barter for his own offering of supplies—he’s low on ammo for his shotgun, and he needs to find a good number of batteries for the two-way radios he’d stolen off a sleeper last night. He figures it might be a good insurance plan, a good backup just in case either of you split up in this next leg of the trip to Jackson. And while you don’t like the idea of him traveling alone—despite knowing he can very much take care of himself—you don’t fight him on it. He’s not wrong, and more significantly, if you try and argue with him, you’re probably going to be disappointed.

You used to bicker more when you thought he hated you; when you were the annoying neighbor and not the escort out of Boston and downstate. You fought like cats and dogs when you lived next door to him in those mangy apartments, never liking the way you looked at each other—like both of you knew the other had an ulterior motive to force yourself out of the QZ, and you picked up on it, tapped into this common secret you hadn’t planned on sharing with anyone else. And while the proverbial walls with which Joel shields himself are crumbling at a painfully sluggish pace, it’s something. You’ll take something over nothing.

You’re hiding out in the basement of an abandoned convenience store on what was probably a main street in this New York suburb. There isn’t much by way of furniture; just a couple of rust-ridden folding chairs, a worn green couch, empty, dusty shelves, and a sink that probably hasn’t run clean water in fifteen years. Small privacy windows along the top of the walls offer little by way of natural light, and the angle of its golden rays tells you that it’s time to go. Your connect is waiting for you on the street’s southern corner. Or at least, that’s where you planned to meet right before sundown.

Joel’s left you with his smaller, quicker shot, a semi-automatic that he usually entrusts you with while you’re apart. He doesn’t say it, but you can sort of tell that he doesn’t like leaving you. And it’s probably not personal because yes, while Joel Miller is slowly coming out of the shell he’s lived in for the last twenty years, it’s not as though he’s developed some sort of overt attachment to you. In a life like this, attachment is almost as dangerous as the Infected. There’s no room for him—or for you—to seek anything beyond a sort of temporary comfort with one another.

Get him to Jackson. That’s it. And then you’re on your own again on your route back home.

You switch the safety on the rifle, then keep it tucked in the front pocket of your jeans while you head up the dilapidated stairs and push open the cellar doors. The sunset meets you right in your eyes and you squint, and then the same thought you have at almost every beautiful encounter sweeps through your mind. Am I seeing another sunset tomorrow?

With any measure of hope, yes.

You close the cellar doors behind you, careful to avoid stepping on any overgrown grass along the cracked sidewalk toward the street corner. You’ve been unusually fortunate to not run into any runners or clickers today, but that streak would come to a dreadful end if you’d stepped on any patch of cordyceps fungus hidden along the green. They’d come charging at you in an instant, and if their overbearing strength didn’t kill you first, the brain parasite would. Eventually.

A quick death sounds better. You can’t fathom slowly losing your mind as many have. You can’t fathom losing the memory of Joel.

Fuck. You’ve really got it bad for him, you’re fucking thinking about him when you should be on guard, when you should be looking out for—

“Girl,” a voice calls out from behind you. You don’t know this smuggler that well; it’s not as though he has a voice you’d recognize. Your shoulders jump and you try to downplay it as you turn around, rifle now held in your dominant hand.

“Yeah,” you say, unimpressed with his greeting. You notice the edges of a paper bag crumpled in his strong grip, and as you eye him, you take out a tin-wrapped package of cigarettes, holding them out for him to take. He accepts your barter and unwraps the foil, inspecting each product to ensure you’re not ripping him off.

“Yeah,” he echoes, then hands you the paper bag. It’s heavy, containing the glass bottle that he’d promised, but right away, you can tell its contents aren’t completely full. You don’t mention it. Some things aren’t worth the energy. And you’re fairly confident you’d start feeling it after a swig or two, considering your last drink feels like ages ago.

When you return to the cellar, you’re alone again. Concern and disappointment flood your veins as you realize Joel hasn’t returned. Fuck, now would have been a good time for those fucking walkie-talkies. Hey, Joel, you dead? No? Great, get back here in one piece.

You dig around your pack for something to eat, eventually settling on something that you think was a protein bar at one point in time, but now just tastes of slightly sweet dust. It’s unappetizing. It’s all this end-of-world can offer you, and while getting good and drunk on an empty stomach sounds like it would be a fan-fucking-tastic idea, you can’t afford to slow down tomorrow. You can’t afford the hangover.

It feels like hours have passed within the span of minutes, and you take a swig of Rittenhouse before you hear a clang at the cellar door. FEDRA wouldn’t wait for you to open up—they’d just bust the door open without hesitation. Joel. Maybe. It could be him, or it could be your smuggler coming back to collect, realizing now your flimsy cigarettes weren’t worth the trade.

Your shotgun is again in hand—someone told you long ago that alcohol and firearms aren’t a wise mix, but that was probably before they realized the world was eventually going to end—and after carefully walking up the wooden stairs, you push open the door, gun ready to fire.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, lowering your aim away from the space between his tired eyes. “You really are ready for anythin’, aren’t you, honey?”

He says it almost sarcastically, like he doesn’t mean it. Like he’s teasing you in an aloof sort of way that only makes total sense for the Joel Miller. And you know he doesn’t intend for your stomach to twist like it does when he says it—honey, fuck, you could just melt onto the cold cement floor—but it does.

“In times like these, you have to be,” you offer, leading you both down the stairs.

You sink into the couch, finally able to exhale that long-awaited sigh of relief as it hits you: Joel is back, and from what you can tell, he’s unharmed. He’s alive. You don’t give yourself much time to relish in the silent celebration of it, though.

“How was it out there?” You ask. “Run into anything? Anyone?”

“Couple’a stalkers,” he replies, shrugging. “Shot ‘em before they could get close. Got the batteries for the radio, along with some other crap.”

Your smile is small but genuine. “That’s good. Anytime you don’t end up maimed or dead is a win in my book.”

He almost chuckles, and it makes your heart squeeze. “Yeah.”

—

The “other crap” Joel has brought back to you includes a used, but functional woolen blanket and a stash of beef jerky that’s likely way past its expiration date. “I don’t need you passin’ out from hunger,” he says as he hands one of the pieces to you. Your fingers brush and it feels fucking electric, but likely only to you, since you know Joel has shut himself off to any sort of emotional electricity long ago.

He sits next to you on the couch, and honestly, takes up a considerable amount of space. His legs are splayed open, his broad back resting on the cushion behind him, and the full extent of his intimidating size begins to sink into you. It’s not like you ever thought Joel Miller was small, but you’ve been with him long enough that sometimes you forget how he might appear to others: menacing. Threatening.

You’re passing off the whiskey bottle between you, taking swigs every couple of minutes to fill the silence that’s fallen between you. Your conversation started benign enough (if benign could be used to describe the next leg of your runaway route, now that FEDRA knows two of its civilians have escaped the Boston QZ), but then it’d taken a more personal turn. Suddenly you know a sliver more of Joel Miller’s past; you know he’d been separated from his brother since Outbreak Day. You learn he had a daughter.

“I’m sorry,” you say lamely. It doesn’t feel strong enough. I’m sorry is what you might have said had you accidentally closed the cellar door on Joel’s pinky finger. He doesn’t say anything back for a while. He just takes another swig of whiskey as he leans back into the couch, as though it fully catches the weight of his grief.

“Was a long time ago,” he says finally. “She would’a been close to your age by now. Maybe a little younger.”

You nod and immediately feel a little guilty. You’d somehow survived, against all odds, against losing your family—if not to the outbreak itself, to the violence it’d caused. Your family was collateral damage in a devastating blow. It could have been you instead of her—Joel would still have his daughter, and you’d be with your family in a place hopefully much better than this hell on earth.

“Still,” you try, still not feeling as though your words convey your true meaning. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Joel’s eyes flicker towards yours as if he’s only now realizing that’s what’s happening here: he’s trusting you. And whether it’s an effect of the whiskey, it’s something. Neither of you is full-on drunk, just loose enough to take the edge off, to put aside some of the overwhelming weight that comes with surviving the literal plague. It’s just enough to let some of the walls built between you begin to chip away, bit by bit.

You don’t leave him hanging out to dry, though. You can’t. Joel just exposed one of his deepest wounds, so the least you can do is mirror the gesture.

You tell him everything. You tell him about your life in New York, your escape out of before you’d barely begun to drive. You tell him about your family and the hit it took to your life to lose theirs. You tell him about your connection to the Fireflies (although you’re pretty sure he’d already picked up on that, considering your frequent interactions with Marlene and Kim). You tell him you’d needed a light to cling to in the everlasting darkness until you’d realized even the light was no good, even then, you’d come to accept the only risk worth taking was one that ensured your security and yours alone.

And now, as it happens, his, too.

He doesn’t say anything afterward. He doesn’t come out with a line like thank you for trusting me with that or anything gooey or empathetic. How you have the emotional space for such reactions is beyond even your understanding, so you understand why a complete stoic like Joel Miller just…sits there. Stoic, nodding his head a bit in an effort to communicate he hears you. He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Everyone is expected to live like this.

“You know,” you continue, the whiskey warming the blood swimming in your veins. “When you didn’t come back as quickly as I thought you would, I got worried.”

Joel exhales through his nose. “Yeah,” he replies. “What else is new.”

You turn your body to face him, legs crossed over one another as you adjust your seat. Your eyes widen with meaning. You’re like a kid with a secret to spill, a story to tell, and you’ll be damned if Joel Miller doesn’t hear it.

“I mean it,” you push. “I’d been thinking about you all damn day. You just come and go as you please, or at least, you think you do. You’ve only just started telling me where you plan on going, or how long you think it’ll take. And I stick by you despite it all. You know why?”

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Joel presses, but the sarcasm dripping from his voice signals that he doesn’t actually want to know. Wanting to know what you mean—and then actually knowing—translates to pain. And this sort of added pain, the one that comes from wanting too much, is just not something either of you can manage at a time like this.

Your pointer finger gestures between the two of you, and with a bolt of whiskey courage, you finally say what’s been plaguing your mind for months. “It’s you and me,” you admit. “That’s my whole world. I got nothing else worth saving or fighting for anymore. So when you leave, half of my world walks out on me. Half of my fucking reason for being here is just—”

He cuts you off, and you don’t fucking believe what’s happening. His kiss is harsh, biting, bordering on punishment for you to shut the fuck up and he knows yelling at you won’t work (when has it ever?) so he kisses you. He lunges for you, his broad palm and dirt-coated fingers covering your entire cheek, the pads of his fingers pressing slightly into the flesh of your face.

Stop.

He pulls back, and both of you are met with the heavy breathing of the other. Your eyes open, slow and dreamy. You wish you had something more articulate to say.

“What the fuck?”

He says nothing.

“No, really, Joel. What the fuck was that?”

He pulls back, observing you. The weight of his gaze is nearly paralyzing.

“Don’t make me say it,” he concedes. You lean back against the arm of the couch, waiting for something more satisfying.

“Had too much to drink,” he tells you, but you know for a damn fact that you’re the one that put most of that liquor away. You’d had a head start, after all, waiting for him to get back to you.

“Not buying it,” you argue, shaking your head. “Just admit to me that you feel something between us, too?” And there’s your index finger again, flicking between your two bodies, tracing a line over the invisible string that binds you to the other. “Admit to me that this isn’t just about getting to Jackson. That you need someone here with you, because you can’t carry the damn weight of the entire world on your shoulders anymore.”

He can’t tell you that. It’s as though the words simply don’t exist in the Joel Miller lexicon. Your gaze drops, casting downward at his thigh, though you’re not exactly looking at anything.

Finally, he says your name. It’s low and pleading. Stop.

He’s leaning into you again, and this time, you meet him halfway. It’s agonizing, the painfully short distance between your mouths before he kisses you again. He’s slow and hesitant this time, almost seeking permission for a kiss as biting as your first. Your tongue sweeps along the seam of his lips, and when he parts them, you kiss him like the world is ending.

You can’t fucking believe what’s happening. It’s as though you’ve manifested this moment within your dreams. On the nights you’ve fallen asleep alone, you’ve touched yourself thinking of this. You’ve played your own body like a harp, imagining every stroke and rub of your fingers belonged to him instead. Joel is kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Joel’s hands are running up through your hair, and your hands are on his chest, bracing yourself for him to pull back when he inevitably realizes this is a bad fucking idea.

It doesn’t come. He pushes you down, a gentle press of his hand to guide your back along the couch. His lips move from yours toward your neck, his kiss a brand, declaring you as his for as long as he’ll have you.

For as long as you survive.

Your bodies dance between wanting to savor the moment and needing to feel the heat of the other. Joel’s fingers toy with the zipper of your jeans, eventually pulling them down your legs and discarding them toward the cement floor so he can better focus his energy on you. On pleasing you, of course, but maybe to also give into the desire he’s been repressing for so long.

“Joel,” you whisper. “Are you su—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, and then his mouth is on your cunt.

It’s sudden and harsh, but fuck, your body needs this. Nothing about this man is subtle, and now you learn his sex isn’t either. His tongue traces patterns against your clit, eventually probing deeper to taste you from the inside. Maybe if you’d been a little more firm in your inhibitions, you’d tell him this was a bad idea. Maybe he wouldn’t be fucking you with his goddamn perfect mouth like this. But he is, and you’re here, beneath the twitching overhead light in this decayed basement until it flickers once, twice, and goes out.

You learn Joel is braver in the dark.

Your hands grip his hair while he eats you out. His fingers press so deeply against the flesh of your hips that you know it’ll bruise, but it’ll be a pleasant ache to remember a night like this. It’ll be proof that even for a moment, Joel Miller felt something for you, and he could show you even if he couldn’t tell you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he mutters, pulling back to catch his breath. You crane your neck to glimpse at him. His lips and beard glimmer with evidence of your arousal, and he sighs into the flesh of your thigh. “Too—too old for this.”

“Fuck that.” You actually laugh at his unexpected comment. “Keep going.”

For a rare moment in your relationship, Joel listens to you. His head dips back between your legs, mouth returning to deliver your pleasure. He’s slower this time, but just as deliberate. His hands hold your legs apart to give his tongue the perfect space against your clit, and when you feel your body begin to crest in relief, you give a sharp inhale through your mouth.

“Joel, I’m—I’m going to—“

He doesn’t need to hear anymore. He drinks you in while you climax, your limbs tensing while stars explode behind your closed eyes.

You kiss him when you push yourself up, needing to taste your own lingering flavor—needing confirmation that all of this is real. Joel fucking Miller just ate you out in this dingy little basement, and you can’t be sure, but you think it’s because he might actually have developed some sort of feeling for you. Something beyond the need to run or hide or defend. And you reciprocate it, eagerly.

How inconvenient for you both.

He’s breathing heavily against your mouth, and you smile in the earnest afterglow.

“You’re really good at that,” you praise into your ear, and he offers something between a growl and a moan in response.

His jeans are dirty and stiff, but you’re just as impatient to pull them off his thick legs and experience him as he’s delighted in you—the weight of his body, the feel of his cock. You hold his length in your hands and immediately notice he’s fucking huge. You practically gasp at the realization, thankful that the dark room hides your growing blush.

You’re laying on your back, and Joel’s fingers slide against your entrance, priming you for his next move. He speaks again, and while you’d normally have a little internal celebration at any ounce of vulnerability he’d be willing to share with you, this time you immediately cut him off.

“You sure abou—“

“Never more about anything else,” you confess.

It’s all too damn much, the amount of immense sensation that comes from Joel teasing briefly with the head of his cock. He pushes into you, and it’s almost as if you can see the way his eyes roll back into his head. Your own body has to adjust to his size, and you bite your lower lip as you brace yourself through the sweet pain of his length filling you with all he has.

He groans against the warmth of your neck, eventually building up his slow thrusts to a rhythmic pace that causes your blood to dance.

“G—god damn it,” you choke out, your ankles hooked around each other along his spine.

In the darkness, you can make out the slight reflection of his tired eyes. His breathing turns ragged quickly and he hisses once or twice—whether out of pleasure or plain you can’t determine (especially because you’re certain you heard him grumble something about his damn knees while he slid out and pushed forward, but honestly, you’re so fucking spent that it’s hard to be sure).

“Feels good?” You ask, clenching your walls as he thrusts home.

He groans. “Uh-huh.”

He pulls you to sit up on his lap, and it’s only then he realizes you’re both still too damn clothed. He hurries to pull your white t-shirt overhead, then pushes your bra straps off your shoulders before managing to unhook the thing with both hands. Hs teeth nip and lips suck at your nipple while he fucks you, while you softly bounce on his damn cock, and shit, you want this night to last for fucking ever.

You’re fucking ecstatic. Your heart sings with the knowledge that you’ve managed to bring Joel pleasure, if only for tonight. Your body thrums like a guitar string plucked by his experienced fingers, and you pant against his lips, sweat forming along the hairline at your temples.

“I’m c—close,” you warn him. “I’m going to—”

“M—me too,” he stammers. “Let me feel you, honey. Just l–let go.”

And you do, you really fucking do. You feel his heat begin to spill inside you and it only intensifies the blinding orgasm Joel coaxes out of you. It reverberates within you, spanning from your fingertips down toward your toes, turning your spine to liquid.

He fucks into you slowly while you both come down, humming into your ear during the aftershocks.

“That’s it, darlin’. Did so fuckin’ good.”

The praise alone is nearly enough to send you over another edge. You suddenly want to bury your head into the crook of Joel’s neck, hiding any evidence of vulnerable relief along your expression. But Joel doesn’t let you. Instead, he holds your chin between his thumb and the crook of his index finger, and kisses you through it.

Joel falls asleep on the couch in his jeans and an old t-shirt. He lets you wear his flannel (though he tries telling you it’s dirty and bloodstained, but mostly everything you own is, so you don’t care).

He falls asleep with you resting behind him, trusting you to hold him while you keep each other safe. He kisses the inside of your wrist, lips lingering at your pulse point.

When you wake in the morning, he’s already gone. And your heart would completely sink had you not realized one of the two-way radios standing upright on the shelf across from you, low static playing through its speaker. There’s a little red light next to its antenna.

You feel as though you can breathe again.

Padding across the basement floor, you grab the radio with both hands, press the call button, and speak into the receiver.

“Joel?”

#tlou fic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Would it be alright to request what Halsin would think of a sorceress Tav? There's custom dialogue lines from him if Tav is a Druid, so I've always wondered what he'd say and think related to her class specifically.

The Druid’s Sorceress

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Here’s a few bite sized sorceress blurbs :) <3

Word count - 2K

Warnings - Fluff, lots of game spoilers, slight rewriting of plot points

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I’m lucky to have met you, Sorceress.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Tiefling Party~

Halsin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for most of the evening. At first, he tried to convince himself that he was only drawn to you because of how you saved him. But Halsin knew, behind that thought, was a desperation to get to know you. To spend even a second more with your magnetic aura.

When you finally danced over to talk to Halsin, he could’ve sworn his heart jumped into his throat.

“Enjoying the party, Druid?” You asked, your words slightly tipsy from the various flavors of wine being passed around the party.

Halsin chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am indeed. Are you also enjoying the party…” Halsin paused, realizing he had no idea what the Hero of the Grove’s speciality lied in.

“Sorceress.” You offered, throwing Halsin a charming smile. “I’m a Sorceress.”

Halsin smiled back, happy he had just another piece of your personality known to him. “Like The Blade. Wyll, was it?”

You scoffed, swishing the wine in your chalice, “He’s a warlock. And between you and me, I’m much better.”

Halsin laughed warmly, nodding his head. “I know not who is better, but I know you yourself are quite impressive.”

“I’m not the only one.” You replied, appreciatively.

Halsin didn’t miss the way the sorceress’s cheeks flushed slightly. He bit back his words, afraid he would come on too strong. He hadn’t known you for long, and well… he couldn’t bring himself to allow the kind of distraction you had become. Not yet at least.

“So tell me about the Shadowlands.” You questioned, taking a step forward to hear the Druid over the music better.

Halsin only offered a thin smile, trying his best not to convey how those words twisted in his chest. “You needn’t worry about those things until morning. Go. Enjoy your party, hero.”

Halsin was thankful that you took his advice, leaving with a genuine smile. He would’ve talked to you all evening if circumstances were different. Would’ve invited you to sit with him under the stars, somewhere more quiet.

He couldn’t though. Not while the knowledge of how nature rotted on the journey’s path. Something he should’ve tried to fix much much earlier.

No, getting to know the Sorceress would have to wait.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Dancing Lights~

The camp was quieter than usual that night. The fight with Oliver was difficult, the fights along the way making the end battle even more so. Once you all finally made it back to camp, most went to their tent to lick their wounds.

You, however, trudged your way towards Halsin’s tent.

Halsin was whittling away quietly, hoping the movements would lessen his stress. Thaniel lay further in the tent, still completely unconscious. It was almost as if Thaniel was in a deep peaceful sleep, resting upon Halsin’s bedroll. He wanted to go with you to find Thaniel’s other half, but he couldn’t tear himself from the boy.

Halsin startled when you cleared your throat, too entrenched in his thoughts to hear your approach.

He dropped his whittling looking up to you hopefully. “Did you find it? Will Thaniel be whole?”

You sighed and plopped down next to him, picking up his unfinished wooden duck. You rubbed the shavings off idly, your voice weary when you spoke, “Yes, I found him.” Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Oliver said he’d come back to Thaniel. I’m never playing hide and seek again.”

“Oliver?” Halsin started.

Before he could continue, there was a stir in the corner of Halsin’s tent. Halsin’s hand shot over to grip yours as he stared at the bundle, his eyes wide.

Your own eyes widened as you saw a small boy sit up off of the furs, yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Thaniel's other half, whom you had only heard stories of before, now sat before you both. His small horns sat delicately on his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he blinked away the remnants of sleep.

Halsin's grip on your hand tightened, a mix of awe and disbelief etched across his face. "Is this... Is this truly him?" You whispered, your voice barely audible.

Halsin nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes. This is Thaniel wholly put together, In the flesh."

The young horned boy blinked up at both of you and tilted his head curiously. "Who are you?" he asked towards you, his voice melodic and excited as he pointed.

You giggled softly, giving the boy a shy smile. “I’m a friend of Halsin’s. I helped him save you.”

“She’s a sorceress. Quite a good one.” Halsin added proudly.

Your cheeks heated slightly, not sure how to take the compliment.

Thaniel narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “A sorceress, hmm? Cast something then!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again at the childish pout the boy gave you. Who could say no to that face? You took a breath and whispered the incantation, circling your finger in the air to cast ‘Dancing lights’.

Beautiful blue orbs blipped into existence, shining gentle light over everything below it.

Thaniel's eyes widened in wonder as he watched the dancing lights float around the tent. His excitement was infectious, and soon both you and Halsin found yourselves smiling at the sight.

But as the lights swirled and twirled, something peculiar happened. They began to take on different shapes—a miniature dragon, a cascading waterfall, a blooming flower. The lights had a life of their own, responding to Thaniel's imagination and bringing his fantasies to life.

Thaniel clapped his hands in delight, his laughter filling the tent. "This is incredible! Can we make them do more?"

You nodded slightly, in awe of how the boy could manipulate someone else’s spell so easily.

“He acts as if he’s never seen magic before. Even though he can use it in such an incredible way.” You murmured, turning to Halsin.

Halsin’s chest filled with warmth when your eyes met his, “Maybe he hasn’t seen magic from one so beautiful.”

Your cheeks blushed brilliant red, your eyes unable to break away from the man.

Thaniel‘s voice cut through, making the two of you look towards him and realize the dancing light’s had completely disappeared.

“Miss Halsin’s-pretty-sorceress?” He asked, tinged with sarcasm, “Can you bring the lights back?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Owlbear Cub~

Scratch and Owlbear cub played loudly, running through the center of the camp. You watched on, the display a nice distraction from the long day.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the camp, you couldn't help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest. The playful antics of Scratch and the Owlbear cub had brought a much-needed respite to the weariness that had settled upon your companions.

With a contented smile, you leaned back against the rough trunk of an ancient oak tree, observing the camaraderie forming between Scratch, a stray pup you had taken under your wing, and the Owlbear cub, a gentle baby with fluffy feathers and curious eyes. Their chase carried them further into the camp, weaving through tents and scattering supplies in their wake.

Laughter echoed through the air as your weary companions watched on, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Even Astarion with his unyielding glare, couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight of the unlikely pair's boundless energy.

As dusk began to deepen, Halsin bumbled over to sit next to you. He carried his whittling tools, starting his next project as soon as he was on the ground. The two of you had grown much closer in the past days, now comfortable enough with each other to sit together in silence. It was nice, being able to unwind after the stressful days. You didn’t feel the need to make endless conversation, content to just appreciate each others presence.

Scratch and the cub quieted in the distance for a split second before the little Owlbear squeaked in pain. Your head shot up, concern rising in you as you looked towards them.

The Owlbear rounded the corner, limping to you with a whimper. Scratch followed close behind, barking as if he was trying to get everyone’s attention.

Halsin stood up, “Give me just a moment to see to Scratch and I’ll see to the cub.”

You watched as the cub slinked over, crawling up into your lap as it let out pitiful chitters.

You gathered the creature into your arms as much as you could, cooing over the poor thing. You couldn’t see what had hurt it, only that it was favoring its back paw.

You gently examined the Owlbear cub's injured paw, careful not to cause any further pain. It seemed like a sprain, and you sighed with relief that it wasn't anything more serious. The little creature nestled closer to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

Halsin returned with a concerned expression, crouching down beside you. "How is the cub?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"It's just a sprain, nothing too serious," you replied, giving the cub a gentle stroke. "I think some rest and healing magic should do the trick."

Halsin nodded, reaching out his hand to cast a spell. A small green glow started to radiate outwards before it fizzled.

“Oak Father Preserve me,” Halsin muttered. “It seems I’ve been rendered empty of mana.”

You shook your head, smiling at him. “I’m not. I can do it.”

Halsin leaned in as you cast your healing spell, a warm glow shining against the cub’s feathers

As you channeled your magic into the sprained paw, a soothing warmth enveloped the Owlbear cub. Its beady eyes stared up at you with an almost grateful expression, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at being able to help your oversized baby.

The Owlbear crawled out of your arms, much more sure footed than before. It tentatively tested its weight on the healed paw, Scratch standing close by as if he felt protective of his oddly shaped little sibling. A delighted squeak emanated from the cub’s throat as it realized the pain was completely gone.

Halsin watched in awe, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "You truly have a gift," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence.

You gave him a modest smile before turning your attention back to the cub, gently nuzzling its soft feathers. It nuzzled back against your cheek affectionately, expressing its gratitude in its own adorable way. It’s funny, how quickly this cub changed from wanting to eat you to wanting to be coddled constantly.

As you continued to sit there, Halsin leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against your own.

“You’re able to do so many different kinds of magic. You’re so powerful.” He murmured.

His hand reached over to stroke the owl bear softly before it rested on your own.

“I’m lucky to have met you, Sorceress.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Halsin's words, his touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. With a soft smile, you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. "And I am lucky to have met you too, Halsin," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

The setting sun cast an ethereal glow upon the two of you, enveloping you in a moment of quiet intimacy. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle rustle of leaves and the beating of your hearts. It felt as if time had come to a standstill, allowing this connection between you and Halsin to flourish.

As you sat there, hand in hand, the camp around you bustled with activity once again. Companions prepared meals, shared stories, and tended to their duties. But in that small pocket of serenity beneath the ancient oak tree, it was just the two of you.

A Druid and his Sorceress.

#halsin #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x sorceress #halsin blurb #halsin fluff #halsin fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fluff #baldurs gate 3 fluff #halsin fanfic

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toomuchracket · 7 months

Text

falling for you (flatmate!matty x reader)

promptober day 10, and there was nobody else i could have written this for. a fluffy but slightly angsty pining lovesick moment, before the two of you are actually flatmates and you're just babies on nights out in manc. i hope you enjoy!

p.s. yeah, i know the pic is the wrong era for this, lol. but it's alllll about the vibes <3

matty's trying his damnedest not to stare at you right now.

he's failing miserably, though. the copious amount of alcohol in his body is rinsing all the sense out of his brain - well, what little you hadn't already stolen from him when you met him earlier outside your halls of residence, all made-up and glowing - and he really cannot tear his eyes away from you, saying bye to your friends at the door of the nightclub.

matty blinks, and self-awareness hits him like a freight train. nah. he's being weird. he needs to get a grip.

but then you turn towards him, waiting on behalf of both of you in the cloakroom queue, and you smile, and all thoughts about stopping looking at you fly out of matty's head. how can he be expected to focus on anything but that face of yours? the vodka's made your beautiful eyes softer, and a combination of marlboros and mac lipstick have made your lips pouty and kissable. well, more so than usual, matty thinks.

he's so distracted by your beauty that he almost doesn't hear the cloakroom attendant shout him up to the window. stumbling slightly - he'd say over his own feet, you'd say due to drunkenness (and you'd be right) - matty exchanges his two tickets for the jackets you and him had been all but forced to wear to prevent the freezing october air getting to you, and wanders over to you. wordlessly, in a well-rehearsed routine, he slings his own jacket over his shoulder as he helps you into yours.

you murmur a thank you. "you hungry?"

for you, yes. for a kebab, no, matty wishes he could say. but he can't, so he just shakes his head.

"neither am i," you say, helping him zip up his leather jacket. your dexterity has been diminished by your drinking, and one of the fringes on the sleeve of your own coat gets stuck between the metal teeth of his. clearly, your brain has also been affected by the alcohol; you frown at the zip, unable to see why it won't move. "huh?"

matty smiles, moving to help you. "got caught on your coat. sorry, darlin'."

"oh, s'fine. thanks," you reply, as you're unstuck once again. with a smile, you hold a hand out to matty. "shall we?"

like he'd ever say no to you. "we shall."

and the walk back to your uni begins.

if it had been raining, matty would have done the gentlemanly thing and sprung for a taxi. but it isn't, for once; actually, he thinks, it's kind of a perfect night. the sky is inky-black, devoid of any clouds, and the two of you are just drunk enough that the streetlights look just as pretty as the stars you can't see from so far into the city like this. he's more thankful for the cold air now than he was before the two of you went out - after the close heat of the nightclub, and the internal glow of the however many shots you did, the coolness is welcome. that, and it forces you to secure matty's hand in your own for warmth, which is maybe the most perfect aspect of the night, in his opinion.

naturally, then, a pang of heartbreak hits him when you break the hold to rifle through your handbag. when you procure a half-empty pack of cigs, though, it dissipates.

"want one?" you ask, holding the open end of the packet towards matty.

"no thanks, sweetheart," he says. he isn't lying: the thought of anything clouding his vision of you, even cigarette smoke, is unbearable. but then a spark of an idea crackles somewhere in his brain - whether it's in spite of or because of his tipsy state, matty isn't sure, but either way it tells him he shouldn't be so quick to refuse. so, tentatively, he continues speaking. "i'll gladly share one with you, though."

you take your time answering, slowly pulling a cig from the pack and shoving the rest back in your bag, then digging around for your lighter. matty chews his cheeks during this performance, terror that he's overstepped a friendship boundary of some sort beginning to creep up his spine. but then you shrug, and say "alright", and he's fine.

well, he's not fine, actually - the next words that leave your mouth are "need your help to light it, though, matty".

fuck. his hands so close to your jaw, close enough that he could take hold of it and kiss you before his brain could convince him that it was too much of a risk to your friendship? that's dangerous.

god, he's so drunk. and so definitely in love with you.

what matty is first and foremost, though, is a good friend. shoving down any and all romantic and/or sexual thoughts about you and your lips as best he can (which is, admittedly, not very well), he turns to face you and takes the lighter from your hand. "c'mere then."

when you oblige, silently, and look up at him with your lips parted and those sparkly doe eyes of yours, matty bites the inside of his lip so hard he feels it bleed. christ. this was perhaps a bad idea.

but the cig is right there, waiting to be lit, so he takes a deep breath, cupping the lighter as he flicks the flame into existence and brings it to your mouth. the orange glow illuminates you quite beautifully, and suddenly matty's head is filled with thoughts of you across from him, like you are now, but sat at a candlelit, white-clothed table with a glass of wine and a fancy dinner before you. and, if he's being honest, also with thoughts of you underneath him, face blissful and softly lit by the candles dotted around the room as he fucks you slowly and tenderly.

for fuck's sake. you're his best friend. he can't be thinking of you like that. why can't he stop thinking about you like that tonight? maybe he's going insane. he has no idea. but whatever is compelling him seems to lessen as you step back and exhale the smoke. "thank you, babe."

babe? that's new. but not unwelcome, not at all. matty feels his heart flutter at the pet name.

"s'alright," he smiles. now it's his turn to hold out a hand. "shall we keep going?"

"mhmm," you quickly take another puff of the cig, before sliding it between matty's lips with a giggle and taking his hand; you have to tug him forward a few paces before he regains control of his brain, but he quickly manages it, and the walk home continues.

for the most part, it's uneventful, aside from the alien feeling of your hand constantly in matty's. that is, until he tries to be clever and inhale the cig mid-conversation, and ends up exhaling directly in your face when you turn to listen to him without him fully noticing.

you cough a little bit when the smoke hits you, and matty panics (and internally facepalms. what a fucking idiot he is) as he throws the cig on the ground and stamps it out. "shit! i'm so sorry, sweetheart, i didn't mean that! you alright?"

"s'ok, i'm ok, don't worry," you assure him, waving away both his fretting and the lingering smoke. when it clears from in front of your face, matty's heartbeat increases as he takes in your amused smile and your even-more-sparkly-than-earlier eyes. you're beautiful. you're fucking glowing. and you're tucking yourself under his arm and cosying into his side as you walk. jesus christ. "this is a lot better for us, don't you think?"

matty's cheeks lift into a smile. "definitely."

it really is better, matty thinks, walking towards the front door of your halls with you snuggled into his chest. much like every other aspect of matty's life, you fit seamlessly into his side - you just feel so right there, so natural, as if the two of you were biologically designed to be together. maybe someday, he hopes, you will be; not two best friends traipsing into uni accommodation for a post-night out sleepover, but a pair of lovers heading home after a date.

he doubts that'll actually happen, given that he'd have to go through the impossible task of telling you how he feels first, but still. it's a nice distant daydream, one he's still giddily thinking about when you unlock the front door and pull him through several more until you reach your bedroom.

you groan when you flick the light on and see the state of your bed, makeup palettes and hair products and failed outfit options strewn across it. matty immediately jumps into problem-solving mode; anything to stop you being unhappy, after all. "where do you want all this stuff, darlin'?"

"the fucking floor," you grumble.

"so… where i'm meant to sleep?"

your head snaps up, and you catch matty's eye in the mirror as you take your earrings out. "well," you turn to face him, your expression… nervous? "you could just, y'know, share the bed with me."

oh. matty can feel his heart pounding in his ears, diminishing the volume of your continuing (and frantic) monologue: "i mean, i know it'll be tight cos it's a single, and you've always insisted on sleeping on the floor even when i've offered to let you have the bed, but it's really cold tonight and i wouldn't mind the extra heat, and at least if we're sharing i know you won't be freezing and you'll be comfy, yeah?"

"ok," matty says, despite barely registering anything you said in his fugue state. he's drunk, and lovesick, but he's not an idiot. "yeah. we'll share."

your face breaks into a relieved smile. "ok. good. um, before that, would you…?"

"oh, of course," matty darts over to you as quickly as he can, while you turn to face the mirror again and lift your hair up. slowly, with fingers fumbling just as much from nerves as from alcohol consumption, he undoes the zip on the back of your dress. the perfume still lingering on the back of your neck clouds his brain with every breath he takes, and the organ threatens to completely shut down when matty pulls the zip down low enough to reveal a lack of bra clasps underneath your outfit. once he's finished undoing you, he steps back while he still has the ability to do so, turning away from you. "there you go."

"thank you," comes the reply from behind him, followed by the sounds of fabric rustling and drawers opening. matty busies himself with carefully clearing your bed, only turning back round when you tap his arm; he smiles when he sees you in a big t-shirt, hair shoved up messily and makeup half-removed, holding out a pair of sweatpants he recognises as his. "you left these here last time. i thought you might want them to sleep in. and i did wash them, before you ask."

you roll your eyes as matty presses the trousers to his nose anyway as a joke - when he registers that his clothes now smell like you and your washing powder, however, it stops being funny in favour of being lovelorn-inducing. but his smile quickly returns when he properly notices the design on the t-shirt you're wearing. "i cannot believe you're wearing a drive like i do shirt to bed. thought you were more proud of me, to be honest, darlin'."

"of course i am, but it's comfy," you protest, brow furrowing in the most adorable way as you frown. it softens wistfully as you continue. "and it reminds me of home."

weird, matty thinks. you're not from- oh. christ.

he's home, to you.

what a fucking thought that is. matty's not quite sure how he's managing to stay sane, but he smiles, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your back. "that's very lovely of you, sweetheart."

"s'just the truth," you reach up on tiptoe to pat matty on the head, before pulling away. he misses you immediately. "you wanna get ready for bed?"

does he ever.

matty nods, kicking his shoes off and quickly undressing while you climb into bed. despite the fact you've seen him in shorts and nothing else before, he wonders if he should feel self-conscious as he strips to his underwear in front of you; something's definitely different with the two of you tonight, matty's sure of it, and he can't quite tell if that's a good or bad thing. probably good, although that might be wishful thinking on his part, just like the way he's convinced your eyes linger on his torso with interest in the mirror when he takes his shirt off.

anyway. clad in his sweatpants and no more, matty climbs into your single bed. he tries to get as comfy as he can, facing away from and without touching you - whether that's to ensure your space and comfort or to stop himself from agonising over how much he likes you, matty has no idea. he isn't comfortable in the slightest, but he'll endure it.

you, on the other hand, have other ideas. with a sigh of "daft boy", you move forward so your body is against matty's back, slinging an arm and leg over his front and spooning him. "is this alright? i figured it was the best way to keep us warm."

"it's perfect, sweetheart," matty replies, and he isn't lying. despite how much it hurts being so close to you and repressing how he really feels about you, matty's surprisingly chill about the way you're clinging to him. cautiously, but feeling compelled to do so, he brings his hand up to stroke your thigh; when you hum contentedly, matty rests it there. "goodnight."

"mmm, night," you yawn out, the blanket of sleep falling on you fast. "love you."

matty smiles, half sadly, half dreamily. "love you too, darlin'."

the next day, he writes a new song.

#mads muses #mads does writing #promptober75 #flatmate!matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy angst #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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cinnnamongrl · 10 months

Text

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 4)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: part 4 to this fic. you can find part 3 here.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, mentions of alcohol, sexual themes, kissing, ✨tension✨

author’s note: part 4/5 !! have fun gays

“you really didn’t have to do that.” you spoke through a pained smile. “i did! and you have to go because i already told campus news that you are chad are a hot new item” she winked. a hot new item? “you did what?” ellie interjected, sitting up. “why-“ you closed your eyes and took in a breath, “-why would you do that?” you spoke calmly despite the irritation bubbling at your chest. emilia tutted like you were asking a stupid question “because i did some digging and turns out someone has famous sorority blood. daughter of an ex kappa upsilon sigma president dating the current kappa upsilon sigma president… that’s the news people really care about!” she explained. “… is it?” “yep!” she beamed.

~~~~~~

“campus fucking news” you said in disbelief. ellie snorted and held her hand above her eyes to shield the sun beaming down on her as she walked you to your class. “it’s not funny! look at the fucking text i just got from my dad” you handed her your phone.

“jesus” ellie handed your phone back to you. “yeah..” you mumbled. “he’s ‘proud that you’re respecting and upholding family values’… this is all because he thinks you’re dating a frat boy?” you scoffed, “when you put it like that it sounds insane. i think it’s because chad’s the kappa pres and kappa means a lot to my dad. he still gets involved with the fraternity even now. and my parents… they’re traditional. and they have these ideals of me being exactly like them. and they think it’ll get me to where i want to be.” “in a dull marriage where you have 4 kids and 0 orgasms?” you hit her lightly “i’m serious!” she hugged your side into hers and kissed your forehead “i know. i’m sorry angel. that’s a lot of pressure and it must be tough on you.” “what am i gonna do about tonight?” you huffed. she looked at you, “you’re gonna go.” you blinked up at her. “and you’re gonna humour emilia and the others until we figure out how to get you out of this little situation.” you nodded your head a few times, then a small smile appeared as you looked up at her “you not gonna be too jealous watching me on a date with someone else?” you teased. she poked her tongue at her cheek lightly and a little smirk played against her lips “why would i be jealous when he’s not a threat?”. you raised your eyebrows “such confidence, williams.” “well, am i wrong?” she tilted her head towards you and you shook your head with a laugh.

~~~~~~~

warm sticky heat pawed at your skin as you weaved your way through a crowded tipsy bison to reach the bar. you stood waiting to catch a bartenders eye when a hand you knew wasn’t ellie’s was placed on your lower back. “i’ll get the drinks” chad spoke.

despite how much you wanted to be away from this bar and this date, chad wasn’t… awful. sure he’s talked about himself a lot, and yes he’s gone through his camera roll and shown you highlight clips of his football games but he wasn’t the worst frat guy you’d ever come across. he was respectful at least and did seem to have a genuine interest in getting to know you. you nearly felt bad that he was on a date with someone who has absolutely no interest in him. nearly. he placed your two drinks on the little table for two that was conveniently in perfect viewing distance from the booth where your friends sat. you did a little scan; brittney was talking to one of chad’s friends, emilia seemed to be rejecting a kappa guy, madison was ranting to chloe, ellie was… sitting, her back against the booth, manspreading slightly with one hand against the back of the seat, the other holding her drink and she was staring right at you. you adjusted in your seat slightly and let your eyes run over her. she winked half-jokingly and a giggle escaped your throat. “don’t you think?” your brain suddenly processed the background noise you’d been hearing was a question directed at you. you turned your head to chad suddenly. “oh um… yeah.” he nodded thoughtfully and smiled “i knew you’d agree,” he reached his hand out and placed it on top of yours. oh god. “you know… you’re even cuter than emilia said you were.” you lifted your mouth in a hopefully not-too-obvious fake smile. “and you’re like, super smart and shit” you looked down to avoid his intense gaze and his hand reached out to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. you tried not to visibly cringe and instead looked up and change the subject “so tell me about that soccer game again”. he smiled, one eyebrow lifted in confusion “football.” “yeah, that.” he took in a breath and began rambling again about his sporting achievements.

ellie had never really considered herself a jealous person. that was until she was being forced to watch some douche put his stupid hands on your and touch your hair and get to put his dumb frat boy face near yours. the fact that she was having to sit metres away and pretend to everyone else she was rooting for this fake date was adding to the bitterness creeping through her body. she pictured herself striding over there, knocking chad off his chair and carrying you bridal-style out of the bar, knight in shining armour rescuing her princess. watching him lean forward to speak into your ear was her last straw, she couldn’t stride over to rescue you but she also couldn’t sit here and watch chad get to act like she did with you all because of some stupid lie at a party.

you stared blankly at chad as he rambled, practically spaced out and nodding at appropriate times. out of the corner of your eye you spotted ellie getting up and walking towards the restroom and a spark of excitement went through you at finally getting an opportunity to talk to her tonight. you looked back at chad “oh my god no way that’s so funny hahaha imgonnausetherestroomillbebackinabit” you blurted out as you were standing up from your seat, desperate to escape before he could stop you. you headed straight for the restroom, praying all of the girls were too engaged in their conversations to follow you. you swung the door open and were met with an empty room minus ellie who’s arms were stretched out to lean against a sink. her head turned to you as you walked in, door closing behind you and she smirked, “what is it with you always following me into toilets?”

you smiled at her “maybe i just needed to use the restroom.” she stepped towards you, “oh? so you didn’t come running in here so you could abandon your date and get me alone for a few minutes?” you looked away playfully “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she reached you and placed her arms around your waist. “i don’t blame you. he seems like a boring motherfucker.” you gasped in faux shock “are you… jealous?” ellie rolled her eyes dramatically “yeah i’m crazy jealous,” voice dripping with sarcasm, “he’s out there sipping on his drink waiting for you,” her hands travelled to your lower back, “and i’ve got you in here, pressed up against me” her hands dropped down to squeeze your ass and the action made you fall into her closer. ellie’s words came out casually but her possessive actions were exposing her jealousy which made you want to reel that part out of her even more. “you know, he’s actually quite interesting.” ellie pulled her body from yours by an inch and looked at you. “he’s pretty funny too.”

ellie took her hands from you and placed one on her hip “‘mh. it’s just weird ‘cause i didn’t see you laughing much.” you looked up. “weird. i definitely was.” ellie crossed her arms. “you’re trying to make me jealous.” she told you. “‘m not. was just sayin’ he’s not that bad.” ellie chuckled and grabbed your hands to pull you back into her, face close to yours. “that’s cute. if you wanted me to get all possessive, you could’ve just said.” her tone slightly darker. you chewed on your lip, any response lost before it even reached you. she tilted her head to the side, “hm?”. a barely audible mm left your throat and she laughed. “don’t get all shy on me now, you were trying to rile me up a second ago.” she rested a hand on the back of your neck, thumb stroking your cheek and she brought her mouth inches close to yours “you want a kiss?”. you nodded enthusiastically “mhm”. she was dragging her other hand up and down your side, tickling the bare skin of your upper leg just before your skirt stopped. “then tell me what you really think about chad,” she spoke lowly, “who you’d rather be out with.” you sighed, “you already know. just kiss me.” “i want you to say it”. you huffed, “he’s boring. and not funny. or interesting. and i wish i was out with you instead.” she tutted in sympathy, near-mocking pout present. “me too, sweet girl.” she lowered her mouth to yours and kissed you. you released a little sigh of relief into her mouth. you were all-consumed by ellie; her body pressed to yours, her scent making your mind fuzzy, the taste of her earlier drinks on your tongue and head swarming with ellie ellie ellie. your body swelled with the urge to drag her into a toilet stall and-

the restroom door swung open and you ripped away from each other just in time to hide your activity, though probably not enough to hide your flustered appearance. three girls you didn’t know stumbled into the room and claimed the sinks. you looked at ellie and she looked at you. tension still high but now with no outlet. she slowly backed out of the bathroom and walked back to her booth. you debated following her for a second but you looked over and saw chad, head in his hands drumming his fingers on his beer bottle and you begrudgingly decided to go back over there before your friends pestered you about not trying hard enough on your date. you made your way over to him but before you got there brittney stopped you. “we’re going outside to vape. come with?” she spoke flatly, her question more of a demand. who knew brittney would be your saviour? you followed all of the girls, including ellie outside of the bar. the night’s harsh air was a welcomed by your overheated body. just as ellie made her way to you emilia approached you.

“having fun?” her tone hopeful. “sure!” you smiled. “he really likes you, i can tell. and you clearly like him. you guys should go exclusive!”. you scoffed, “i don’t know about that”. you noticed brittney was frowning at emilia from a distance, manicured fingers holding onto her blueberry ice elf bar. she pulled emilia over to stand with her which left you alone with ellie. “hi” you spoke and tapped her leg with your foot. she laughed “hi pretty” voice out earshot of the others. “um.. here’s an alley by the side of the bar. you think they’d notice?” you asked. she blinked at you with raised eyebrows, voice full of pretend shock “did you just invite me into a dark alley?” you furrowed your brows with a pout barely hiding your smile “not like that, perv. i meant so we could talk more privately.” “oh talking, i see” she laughed. she did a quick scan and grabbed your hand “c’mon”. she lead you to the side of the bar, away from the eyes of anyone except people passing by on the street. you leaned against the brick wall and ellie stood in front of you.

“it seems like you’re always sneaking me off to hidden places” she said lightheartedly. “well id prefer not to have to sneak away to be able to kiss you but we’re in a bit of a situation.” ellie raised an eyebrow playfully, “and who’s fault is that?” she teased. “hey, i had my reasons.” you defended yourself. “yeah, you were so scared of being in love with me you had a make up a fake crush and he happened to actually exist.”, she laughed. you kicked her with little force “i was not in love with you. i met you a few days before then!” she was still laughing, “and yet i made such an impact you felt the need to deny your real feelings for me”. you crossed your arms, “you’re such an asshole” “hey i’m kidding. i had to pretend to myself that i hated you after that night so i wouldn’t cry” you burst out into affectionate laughter “els”. she smiled and wrapped her hands around your back to bring your body into hers to kiss you. it was sweet and gentle, and yet it still made your stomach flip. against all her body’s instincts she pulled away and took your hand, “let’s not have them wander round here and catch us kissing on your date with dreamy chad”. you giggled and let her lead you back to the bar.

~~~~~~~~~

the drinks ellie used to entertain herself last night while she couldn’t be with you were making themselves known as she woke with a fuzzy head, and the loud banging on her door was not helping. she checked her phone for the time and saw 3 missed calls from you and forced herself out of bed to open her door. you walked past her and threw yourself down onto her bed.

“have you seen it?”. she looked at you for a few moments, “seen what?” you huffed and shoved your phone into her hand. a campus news feature. taking up the screen was a photo of you and ellie kissing. it was dark, zoomed in and kind of blurry like it had been taken from a distance, and anyone who saw the photo wouldn’t be able to make out where you were but you knew it was from last night in the alley. ironically where you’d kissed for about 3 seconds max. under the photo was some writing, ‘chad’s new girl kisses random girl behind his back???’ ellie looked back up at you, “oh god”. you took your phone back and shoved it in your pocket. ellie frowned, “who the hell would ta-“ “we’re going to eta” you interrupted. you practically marched down to the eta house, ellie behind you trying to catch up with your fast pace. when you arrived, emilia, madison, chloe and katie were having breakfast in the dining room. as you stood at the head of the dining table, hands on your hips you realised you hadn’t planned what to say at all. you weren’t even sure what you marched down here to do. accuse someone? defend yourself? maybe they hadn’t even seen it.

“who runs campus news?” spluttered from your mouth. madison looked up at you, “i don’t know. but people can submit whatever they want and most of the time it’ll get published.” the harsh sound of a chair scraping against the floor reached your ears and suddenly emilia was walking towards you “you guys. we saw that feature,” she hugged you both individually. “how awful. and poor chad, he’s already text me asking what’s going on.” selfishly or not, chad’s feeling were at the bottom of your list of problems right now. “so are you two like.. a thing?” katie spoke. emilia spoke up, “no she likes chad! it was just one kiss right? maybe you should go over and talk to him. he’d probably forgive you if you explained it was just a silly mistake. don’t let a great guy like him get away.” you stared at her, failing to hide the confusion on your face. ellie stood beside you chewing on her lip. there were a few seconds of silence. “how do two girls have se-“ “katie.” madison cut her off. this conversation was proving to be even less helpful than you’d predicted. “listen- where can i get in contact with campus news to get the photo taken down?” you spoke calmly, only ellie noticing the frustration peaking through your tone. “you could try calling the number on the website?” chloe offered. “thank you.” you grabbed ellie’s hand and swiftly left the eta house.

back at ellie’s dorm you scrolled through campus news looking for some sort of contact number. ellie sat beside you in silence, a little intimidated by your frantic energy. “babe.” she tried. “mh” you replied, eyes still glued to your phone and fingers scrolling rapidly. “it’s gonna be fine.” she assured you. “‘s not. unless i get it removed from campus news quickly before my parents see it.” ellie took a deep breath, “don’t you think.. in a way it might be for the best?”. you looked up from your phone at her, irritation clear on your features. “how would this be for the best?” she leaned back, resting against the arm being held up by the bed “well you wanted to get out of the chad situation.” “yeah not like this!” you shuffled back a little, frustration building. “not with me?” ellie accused. you rolled your eyes “that’s not what i meant. i don’t want to have to explain this to my parents.” “what’s so awful about your parents finding out? you were gonna have to tell them you’re not dating chad at some point.” ellie said, letting her own frustration show. you picked your phone back up and huffed in anger, not wanting to have to justify why you wanted the feature taken down. “or were you?” ellie spoke. you looked at her again “what?” “were you ever even going to tell them? or am i just some college experiment for fun before you go off and actually start dating a real chad so you can live the life your parents want you to live?” bitterness and hurt ran through ellie’s words. “don’t be like that, ellie.” “well?” ellie waited. she wasn’t sure what for. maybe for you to reassure her, kiss her and tell her she’s being ridiculous and that obviously that wasn’t going to happen.

“i’m gonna go.” you stood up and left her dorm without another word.

part 5

a/n: this is my dramatic tv show outro: dun dun dunnnn! will ellie and reader make up? 😿who took the photo?🫢 and why?😳 find out soon on sorority secrets ! (a cinnnamongrl production) ;)

tag list @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @alexpritch @robinismywifee @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovemoneymorethenmen @amberlynn28 @eyeluvangel @amitycat sorry some blogs won’t tag :(( (might be bc of ur visibility settings)

happy to add people to the taglist but i can’t tag you if you don’t have your age in your bio!! my blog is 18+ !!

#ellie tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader

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