#I missed you truly I’m so glad you’re back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrollohearttags · 7 months

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commissions corner • the winning team

your boyfriend finds out your old flame is his new rival on the field and makes sure you don’t get wandering eyes for him….anyone else.

content warning and themes: black fem reader, college au, football player reiner, thigh riding, small argument and him being jealous, spit play, slapping, rough sex, oral, dirty talk, choking, overstimulation, full nelson, unprotected sex, pet names, fingering, breeding

word count: 8.4K

📝: this was a piece commissioned by @spiralflood and I cannot thank you enough for entrusting this to me and letting me write this fic for you. I do hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for your support and patience. I apologize that this has taken so long but I hope that it was worth the wait and I look forward to working on your second piece.

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“Welcome back to the college playoff, folks! This has been one of the most intense matchups we’ve seen in this season thus far.”

“I have to agree, Jim. We’re seeing professional levels of playing here tonight. Especially from the quarterback. Braun is playing as if he has something to prove here..ten points in the first quarter..”

And they had no idea how true said sentiment was. As the announcers spouted off data and statistics about the game that was transpiring, onlookers and listeners alike tuned in to get the latest updates on the biggest one of the season. Homecoming. An annual ceremony..almost religious experience in the college town (y/n) (l/n) and so many other bright scholars called home. Including the illustrious football team’s star quarterback and your boyfriend of three years, Reiner Braun. A burly, stackhouse of a man who was as gentle as he was strong. He had a kind heart and iron clad determination. It was just a few of the redeemable qualities you loved about him. Including the fact that he held an innate obsession with you. Not in the sense that he was predatory or dangerous about it. But he was absolutely infatuated with everything about you. From your warm, loving personality to your equally kind heart. A lady who worked hard and always extended such compassion to everyone. Not to mention your beauty. In his eyes, you were truly a once in a lifetime type of woman. A rarity and any man, lucky enough to find you was blessed beyond relief. Hence why, he went above and beyond to prove his devotion.

“And even on the field, he’s a loverboy. Braun going over to the bleachers to steal a good luck kiss from his girl. How sweet.”

as you diligently cheered him on from the stands; seated front row in a plaid skirt, black turtleneck and platform heels..tights hugging your on your thighs, those broad shoulders and blonde hair would come jogging towards you..a giant smile on his face and hands clutching his shoulder pads. His signature white, khaki and red uniform for the Warriors stained in brown and green spots from the tumbling around. Running plays and colliding with others who possess equally brute strength. It was all in the fun of football and his love for the sport. But if there were one thing that Reienr adored more than anything, it was you. Rushing back over, he’d meet you halfway for a searing peck, one captured by the television cameras who were filming for ESPN..shortly before cutting to enthused cheerleaders, shaking their pom-poms. Everything was going on around him and he was solely focusing on you.

“Hey papa. You’re doing so good out there..I’m so proud of you!”

his face flush with his cheeks burning red once you complimented him. Truthfully, it was the only encouragement he needed. That team was as good as finished as long as he had his number one fan there to cheer him on. “Thanks, sugar. I’m glad you came to see me..I know how busy you’ve been with your dissertation and all comin’ up..” “Please, I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Rei Rei.” squishing his cheeks between your hands in a cutesy manner as you kissed the top of his forehead. It may have been a bit embarrassing if some of his teammates caught him but he could care less. He was all in when it came to his lady. However, it would seem that he wasn’t the only one with wandering eyes..just as the two of you shared your precious moment, another player would wander up, clutching his own shoulder pads and parading around with somewhat of a cocky smirk plastered across his face. He obviously was on the opponent’s side..donning a blue, white and silver uniform; akin to the Dallas Cowboys but adorn with a shield insignia. He was gnawing at what seemed to be an old piece of gum before spitting it to the ground and nearing Reiner.

“Well well…look at you, Brauny. You never told me you had a girlfriend..she’s cute.”

the culprit’s name?

“What the hell do you want, Jaeger? We’re opponents and we’re damn sure not friends so I can’t understand why you’re talking to me.” “Woah, calm down! I’m just making a lil’ friendly conversation during our break. We’re out here to have a good game..I know we’re rivals and all but no need to get your jock strap in a bunch, dude. Stop taking shit so seriously.” Eren Jaeger, the Titans’ wide receiver. He was infamous for his fast speed and countless returns. In this season alone, he had scored nearly two hundred points by his lonesome. He was set to become a first round draft pick upon graduation at this rate and he was on his way to being in the big leagues. However, he is just as well known for his less than savory attitude. In truth, he was a cocky son of a bitch with a mouth slicker than oil and a very obnoxious aura that just exudes arrogance. If he couldn’t fight so well, he’d probably end up with his ass beat everyday. Of course, the ladies didn't seem to mind or care all too much, because he was so handsome and that they may have been the only ones he treated with a shred of decency and kindness. Which was only done so long enough to get in their pants and after that, they were discarded to the wayside with everyone else. His teammates could barely even stomach him and Reiner, needless to say, was his biggest hater. Not so much for his reputation or popularity among the girls but his narcissistic personality. Football was Reiner’s biggest love in life next to you and when someone desecrated it with their selfish disregard for their teammates and no respect for his opponents, he could never like his ass! Releasing a deep sigh, pinching his nose, Reiner was turning to face him and tell him to kick rocks but it was unbeknownst to him, as he did so..Eren would surprise you both.

“Maybe you should start taking shit seriously. You’re such an annoying—“ you were in the midst of trying to calm your man down, patting at his chest to stop as this was super unbecoming of his gentle and docile demeanor. Tonight was supposed to be his night and you’d be damned if some insufferable asshole ruined it! However, when the brunette nightmare stepped closer and all but dismissed Reiner with a hand to his face; fixating his emerald eyes on you..(y/n) all but froze in your tracks. It was as if you were looking a ghost directly in the face. He was like a relic from your past…a reminder of the nonsense you used to put up and deal with before finding the best thing to ever happen to you.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere..God, I could never forget a face so pretty. Damn, you sure look good, (y/n). Or should I say..(nickname used strictly by Eren).” Eliciting sudden shock and fear in you. Fear that Reiner was going to kill this dude and get himself ejected from the game for off-field misconduct. The thing you were most concerned about were not his attempts to drum up the past as to get underneath your man’s skin but to keep maintaining order. Because this was exactly what he wanted. See, as someone who was always so used to having their way, it ate Jaeger to his core that there were two things Reiner had that he never could: a championship and you. He was an S-tier player with a grade A rank but he had yet to gain a trophy, hence why he wanted your boyfriend off of his game so that he could hopefully get his team to victory. He was merely the wide receiver so he was limited in what he could do to ensure victory. That was mainly up to the quarterback, but if he snuffed out the opposition’s, it would make things much easier. When it came to you, it ate him alive that this brown nosing, goody two shoes bastard was the one getting to have all of that and had you acting all saint-like. Knowing damn well that wasn’t who you were!

“What is he talking about?” “N-nothing.” Because the truth was..Eren had you first. He was the first one to truly get you out of your shell and those clothes! You lost your virginity to him right after high school and after a couple times together, he had all but awoken your demon. In essence? You had become somewhat of a freak and after a while, he couldn’t even tame you. In his words, you were ‘the best pussy he’s ever had.’ Knowing that you were some nerd who kept your head in the books only to then give him head under the table was insane. Even more so with this wholesome image you were so desperate to portray. What he didn’t bet on was for you to lose interest after you found out he had multiple women on his roster. He figured since he was the one to take your innocence and corrupt you, you’d be super attached but that wasn’t the case. Your self esteem was a lot higher than what he bet on and it ate that prick alive to know that you moved on so easily to someone who appreciated you. However, he was betting on the fact that you had never told Reiner about your past and how you let him fuck you while his best friend filmed it or that he had explored your body in ways that the little farmer boy only wished he had. You probably played coy; acting all shy and sweet. You were a slut, his first and he had that trump card if nothing else.

“C’mon, (nickname)..don’t be like that. Share with the class. Tell our sweet Rei Rei how you used to kiss me just like that..”

letting the words linger on with a bit of a flare to them..licking over those pouty lips as his gaze wavered with flashbacks of you two together plaguing his mind. However, all Reiner could see was red and it was then that you wished this little ten minute intermission would hurry up and finish already before things got out of hand. But he had to finish putting the nail in the coffin!..

“Of course…that was after you topped me, right? Had that lil’ throat nice and trained, isn’t that right, baby?—“ and it was then that your boyfriend lost all semblance of control and lunged towards him, jacking Eren up by his shoulder pads. Luckily, everyone seemed to be preoccupied so it gave you time to rush over and defuse the situation and pry him off of this dumbass. Of course, he didn’t give a shit, he had gotten the exact reaction he had hoped for. “Rei, Rei! Stop it! Please!—“ but he was already too irate. “Shut up and stay out of this, (y/n)! I don’t know who the fuck this jackass thinks he is but I’m about to beat the hell out of him.” Just in the nick of time, some of his teammates spotted the situation and decided to help by prying the two apart and a couple of the Titans did the same. He was too good of a guy to squander his opportunities for an evil soul like this. “You proved your point, Eren. Now leave and get the fuck out of here.” And unbothered as always, he’d take his leave and bow out. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, my love.” Laughing as he walked away with his equally as stupid homeboys. Once your man realized he had not only lost self control but hurt your feelings, he quickly simmered down and took a few breaths. Grasping the guard rails, Reiner banged his hand against it..head lowered and heart thudding.

“Look, Rei. I’m sorry, I don’t know what—“

“Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s okay…I’m sorry for yelling at you. But we’ll talk about this later.”

even with frustration and anger riddling his whole body, he still found it in his heart to show you compassion and kiss you on the forehand, telling you that he loved you before being whisked off by his teammates. It was time to resume the game and for him to focus. His teammates had to give him a bit of a pep talk on the way back to the field, in hopes he’d calm down before their hothead coach spotted it and benched him. They had too much riding on this game for unchecked emotions to ruin it. You’d surely never hear the end of it if they lost because of this. Maybe not from Rei but the town would surely be talking! For right now, all you could do was watch and wait..and Rei? It was time to channel that energy into the game and leave it all on the fifty yard line!..

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the game resumed as scheduled and Reiner seemed to be a bit more grounded after that, as well as play! Once the third quarter kicked off and he got out there, it was an entirely different game! Where the Titans held a five point lead before the second half, that all but changed because he told the coach they were implementing a new technique..one that would involve knocking Eren’s dumb ass silly. Tackling him from his blind spot and combatting that super speed. Although he was as fast as he was, he’d never see it coming. And Reiner wanted to witness it. Running play after play, the Warriors ran roughshod on the team and especially their wide receiver..knocking him to the ground a couple times, which severely upset the pretty boy player. If there was one thing Eren did not take kindly to, it was defeat. He hated to lose in any form or capacity. On or off the field. The fact that he was being outclassed by some country bumpkin asshole from the sticks and he had your pretty ass cheering him on to boot was driving him insane. Sportsmanship be damned, he was going to get his lick back! Just then, he’d circle the sideline and as the camera panned to running down the field, he’d blow a kiss in your direction and at that exact moment, the lens captured Reiner’s reaction! Needless to say, it wasn’t one of happiness but utter shock and anger. His rage could barely be sated at this point and the normally gentle giant was ready to tear that little twig into pieces. He was such a snobby, arrogant prick and tonight, he had gone too far. In order to keep himself from losing control, he paced the sidelines and grasped a paper cup, dousing himself in some of the liquid. “Hey, Braun. Get your shit together man..don’t let that asshole make you lose your cool. You know (y/n) doesn’t want him and you shouldn’t let his childish antics get under your skin. You blow this and you can kiss the rest of your scholarship and future goodbye. Don’t do this, man. Trust me.” His teammate and quite possibly someone who normally would not have been so poised, talked him off the deep end. Porco Galliard, the Warriors’ fellow wide receiver and an equal hater of the cocky player. He and Reiner weren’t exactly the closest but they had an equal hatred of Eren and his crew. They were tired of him but if they managed to keep their cool, he was as good as defeated. Even so, Reiner’s mind was elsewhere and obviously checked out.

“Make it through the game, huh? That’s all?” Clutching his shoulder pads, Reiner nodded profusely as if he were trying to reassure himself. Suddenly, the whistle would blow for both sides to return to the field and he’d rush back on the grass alongside Porco and they’d resume the rest of the quarter, heading into the final one. If all he had to do was get through the rest of this without strangling him, then he had to be the bigger person and keep a level head. But once he finished up…

all bets were off and he was going to handle his business for sure. In a way that you or no one else would expect!

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another hour or so passed before the final play was called and the scores were announced..the crowd waited with baited breath, clutching their chests in the cold temperatures as the star of this game shined once more. “He’s going for it…AND HE SCORES! THE WARRIORS WIN SIXTY TWO TO FIFTY ONE WITH A HUGE UPSET BY BRAUN! Let me tell ya’ something folks, we have not seen playing of this caliber in a very long time.”

“Yeah, Jim. I’m not sure what pivotal shift Braun underwent after the second half but he was on an entirely different level. What an exciting game!”

excitement and celebration ensued throughout the stadium and the city. Cheers erupted in the stands, outside in the parking lot where tailgaters listened on and at the local bars and restaurants packed full of fans. The long, drawn out game had finally concluded and needless to say, everyone was ecstatic; ready to celebrate!…everyone except Reiner that was. At least in the way that the rest of his teammates and the town were planning on. Whilst both sides of football players shook hands, gave congratulations and even hugs, for those that were not at odds on personal matters, Reiner couldn’t even be vexed. His fellow brethren were attempting to give him his flowers but he was too busy darting back towards the bleachers..making a beeline straight for one person. Despite his loss, Eren was still as smug as ever and completely unphased. Because truthfully, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the game, his teammates or anything else..already, the dancers on the sidelines, majorettes and cheerleaders were already flocking to come help ‘console’ the wide receiver. As far as he was concerned, he’d still won. Living rent free in Reiner’s head, crawling underneath your skin and quite possibly causing problems in your perfect little relationship..what more could he ask for?! Meanwhile, (y/n) was waiting on the sidelines now, having rushed to the field, the second the final score was announced to await your man’s arrival. But alas, you weren’t greeted with the reaction you were expecting..the normally jovial, sweet Reiner with his awkward smile and adorable laugh was stoic and stone faced as ever. Not even speaking a word as he neared you. For someone who had just won a super important game with such a wide score margin…he seemed rather upset!

“Rei! You did it! I’m so proud of—“

the words could barely even escape your mouth before you’d feel yourself tugged towards the opposite sides of the bleachers and away from the roaring crowd. Everyone seemed to be far too busy with their own nonsense to pay you two any attention. His larger hand cusped around your own as he drug you along away from potentially prying eyes. Where was he taking you? Your guess was as good as any..but soon enough, you’d be finding out in a major way.

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page break

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“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset, Rei. I already told you. He means nothing to me. Never had, never will. Besides, it was long before I met you…I didn’t know he’d be such an asshole.”

“It’s not that, sugar. I just..damnit, why’d ya’ have to sleep with him or all people, ya know? I’ve known him for as long as I could remember and he’s the worst. You could’ve done so much better..” Meanwhile, you two had made your way back to the off campus apartment you shared not too far from the college. Living together made situations like this a bit awkward..despite being upset with one another, you couldn’t exactly stray off and cool down when needed. Luckily, you guys did have your own separate bedrooms for studying and storing your own stuff. It wasn’t for a lack of love or care in the slightest. Sometimes you just needed your own space. Too bad, he wasn’t hearing any of that tonight! Taking an Uber back to the complex, the two of you stared out of the window, trying not to cause a scene or argue. But the second you hit your living room, the gloves were off and he let all of those hard feelings be known. You attempted to give him the silent treatment for his outburst and erratic behavior but alas, here he was; his big six foot four, two hundred eighty pound ass planted on your bed..surrounded by plushies and Hello Kitty merchandise.

“Well hindsight is a bitch, isn’t she? Trust me, had I known what type of person he was, I wouldn’t have even looked in his direction..” gradually, you’d make your way onto the bed and drape your arms around his broad shoulders, in an attempt to soften your sweetie pie up. It wasn’t in him to act in such a way or even become jealous but something about Eren truly unsettled his spirit. Guys like him deserved nothing but the worst and they damn sure didn’t deserve to have a queen like you underneath his body. The thought of him even touching you disgusted Reiner to his core. Honestly, how could he have possibly ever satisfied someone like you? The mental picture alone made him want to strangle that asshole. But you had a far better solution for his frustrations and a much more suitable outlet for his anger..your body. Tracing a finger along his shoulders and along his shoulder blade, you leaned down to kiss him as you remained draped across his back, you’d begin to subtly place kisses along his jawline and jugular, hoping to make that scowl on his face turn to a smile soon. And it would seem that your little ruse was working like a charm.

“Seriously, baby..do you really wanna spend one of the biggest nights of your football career fighting..over that asshole nonetheless? I mean..you won the playoffs. Don’t you think we should be..celebrating instead?” Proposing as you dredged the tip of your tongue across his earlobe. Leaving a trail of butterfly pecks along the way. Your words and gentle touch melted into him like butter on toast. You were right, there was no need to concern yourselves with the past. Tonight was all about your man and his victory..so you were going to ensure that he got his proper congratulations. But he too had plans of his own. Plans to ensure that you kept true to that statement about not letting him back into your life or thoughts because he was going to ensure that he was the only thing on that pretty little mind of yours.

turning around to face you, Reiner would merely scoff before narrowing his eyes to meet your own. “Yeah, I guess you have a point..” With a smirk on those pouty pink lips, he’d slowly bridge the gap between you two before initiating a searing kiss. Sloppy pecks ensued with his tongue swirling around inside of your mouth; flickering against one another to take control. The moment had quickly shifted from accumulated tension to pure unadulterated lust. As quiet as it was, you had been holding back your carnal desire for him all night. Watching him sprint up and down that field…his tongue wagging as he panted from the heat. Oh, how you wished it were between your thighs. So much so, you had to squeeze them together just to fein off the thought. And when his jersey came off after the game…removing the gear for a shower and you’d catch a glimpse of all the jarring battle scars he had acquired during the game, you wanted to kiss and brush each one. But more so, you wanted to add to the collection. Screaming his name and scratching that back. Perhaps though, the moment to turn you on the most was when he decided to lash out at that asshole Eren. Ready to risk his entire football career and go to war behind his baby..it was enough to make you rip him out of his jersey and fuck him right there! Eventually, this impromptu makeout season would escalate to him pulling you onto his lap and allowing you to straddle it as the sensual kissing continued. With a beefy bicep wrapped around your back, Reiner held you in a place and in one fell swoop, he’d begin to raise your shirt and bra.

“Rei….‘need you so bad. Damn..”

and he was more than obliged to grant your request. Especially when you moaned his name so delicately and sweetly. The thought of saying another man’s drove him insane and he knew he couldn’t play around when it came to establishing that you were all his. Grunting into the crook of your neck whilst he was suckling on it and your collarbone; nibbling gently on your ear as well…

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want… keep grinding on me..just like that.” Releasing a soft mutter in your ear. In a matter of moments, the two of you were a tangle of limbs. Feeling one another up and gradually tearing each other out of your clothes. But you’d soon come to see that he wasn’t much in the way of being gentle tonight. Much like his movements on the field, he needed that rough and tumble, that aggression and fire that had been harboring whilst he was out there playing. Watching you cheer from the sidelines..those breasts bouncing up and down as you gleefully shouted his name. That outfit..so innocent yet elicited the most salacious of thoughts from his mind. He thought of how he longed to hike that little plaid skirt up and bend you over in it..hoist that turtleneck and grope those juicy tits underneath. All very perverse but justified in his mind. Not to mention, that asshole’s comments had piqued his interest. He tended to take anything he spewed from his raggedy mouth with a grain of salt but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see if you were every bit of the nympho he painted you out to be.

now spun with your back facing him, Reiner allowed you to continue straddling his thigh before tilting your head back and shoving his tongue between your lips. Thrashing around and swirling your own as he invaded your mouth. “Mmph!” Whimpering so sweetly whilst you exchanged those sloppy kisses. With a smaller hand pressed to his stubble ridden cheek, (y/n) shamelessly flicked your tongue around, making him huff lightly. It was apparent that you seemed to be enjoying yourself by the obvious damp spot in the seat of your panties..rubbing against the newly exposed flesh of his thigh. Meanwhile, he had worked the bottom hem of your black shirt up your torso and soon, his massive, veiny hands took the place of your lace bra; those beautiful, supple breasts falling from the double D cups in one fell swoop. He’d pinch your nipples lightly at first, just to see how your body reacted to the sensation. “Right there, pretty girl…go slow.” Instructing you to falter your speed so that you didn’t come too quickly. Which had happened in the past. He knew how sensitive you could be when it came to sex. How the slightest brush to your little clit could send you over the edge or how a few strokes could have you leaking like a faucet. It were these little details that Eren or anyone else would never know. The small things that only your true lover could see…he was the only man you needed and ever would!

“Rei….oh fuck.” Those sweet cries spilling from your mouth when he decided to shove two of his fingers inside of it and allowed your saliva to drench them.

“I know…” arrogantly declaring with his eyes fixated on you. Slowly fucking your jaws with sweet nothings being whispered against your lips…eventually, those same fingers trailed down your exposed tummy and into your panties. Without breaking eye contact once, Reiner merely chewed his lower lip; smirking whilst working those digits around your swollen clit. He could tell that you had been holding back all night..refraining from letting lust overtake you but since you were now all alone, you were free to do whatever you wanted. He looked so good in that uniform, all you could envision was ripping it off and getting on your knees for him. But now that didn’t have to be a far off reality. At the moment though, he had control and he knew exactly what to do: “Hey, open your legs..” so that he could maneuver around and slide those fingers inside of you. Once he did so, you instantly gasped and burrowed yourself down on them. Working you over with his other hand planted to the back of your neck as security. He didn’t need you looking, thinking or worrying about anything else right now. “That’s right, focus on me, sweetheart. Focus on riding these fingers…” all you needed to do was be his good little slut. Sounds of smacking wetness began to fill the room along with the sloppy kissing that had been ensuing for a while now. The remnants of his flavor are heavy on your tongue. By now, you had become a puddle between those thick thighs and would only become wetter as time lingered on. The more he teased and tousled that sweet little cunt, the more you panted for him..whimpered his name, the stronger his desire to absolutely ravage you grew. When you’d grow too needy, he’d quell your yelps by shushing you..knowing it was futile. “Does it feel good, baby? Tell me…” “…y—yes! So good..” answering almost immediately with no hesitation. His fingers raked along the small of your back, snaking up to eventually meet your backside, which he gave an ample squeeze.

akin to a little pup, your tongue wagged; dripping with saliva and your eyes glossed over in a dumbed out expression. The sweetest part was that he was merely getting started and you were already so needy for him. But the sentiment was the exact same if he were being completely honest. That much was apparent by the growing bulge seen through the sheath of his gray sweats. Becoming larger and harder by the second. “You’re so wet, darling…what’s got you all worked up? Hmm?” Questioning rhetorically with a smug grin on his face as he bridged the distance between your faces; increasing the intensity between your gazes. He wanted to see every reaction, hear every filthy moan and mutter, all the nasty things you wanted him to do..he just wanted to know that this was all his!

“Go ahead, tell me…what’s on that pretty lil’ mind of yours? Maybe ya’ wanna tell me something. Like what you want me to do to you..I’m all ears.”

he needed that confession more than anything right now. If for no other reason than to stroke his own ego. A little selfish but every time he imagined you getting all nasty with that scum, the urge to one up him grew stronger. If he made you a bad girl, he was going to make you his little whore. By the end of the night, you were going to be doing tricks that would make a pornstar jealous. “Need you to fuck me, Rei…need you in me so bad..” uttering in a soft, broken whimper. Not one of sadness but pure overstimulation. You were mere seconds away from coming and if he didn’t pull those fingers out soon, you were going to turn his legs into a waterslide. Instead though, he’d have you get in on the fun and pull out that throbbing erect as you spoke. Tugging at that elastic waistband, you’d free his cock from behind its confines and slowly jerk him off. His compression shirt painted to those chiseled abs and steel like pecs, even catching glimpses of those stiff nipples through them. Right now, you were at one another’s mercy. One wanting the other to crack first so you could give into those shared desires.

“I think ya’ can do a little better than that. C’mon, darling.. Tell me all the nasty shit you send me in those texts when I’m in practice. All the things you say on those sexy lil’ videos when I'm in class that you don’t want anyone else to know about. When it’s just us..the side I only I get to see..” whispering the last sentence with a grumble that made your legs quiver..emphasizing the point that he had you wholeheartedly. Simultaneously, his pace increased and he’d begin fingering you even faster. You peered over your exposed breasts and tummy to see his hands moving rapidly; thrashing around inside of you. It was clear that you were about to combust. But he’d let you reach your peak, with only one condition..

“Say it and I’ll give ya’ what you need.” And at that moment, you didn’t bother to hold back. Rutting your hips, (y/n) ground yourself on his hand and release sharp breaths along with those perverse commands.

“I need that dick so fucking bad…fuck me, Rei! Please…make me come all over that shit.” sucking your teeth as you spouted the words with conviction. You’d rattle off about how you wanted him to not hold back and to fuck you with all that pent up aggression and anger he obviously harbored from the game. And he was more than thrilled to oblige. Letting that smirk creep across his face, he’d abruptly halt and withdraw his fingers…only long enough to toss you onto the mattress and pin your legs back. He’d make haste in removing those panties along with the rest of your clothing, with the exception of those thigh high socks that he thought looked so sexy. They gave you this innocuous look that he just loved. From there, he’d shed his own threads and hover above you. Taking you by your calves, he’d prop them wide open and hold you by the backs of your knees to expose that dripping warmth to the cool air and himself. It was blatantly obvious that he was just as ready by the way his cock twitched if its own volition and he splayed it across your slit. Those fat lips and clit enveloping him like a warm blanket once he slid it across. Teasing and tapping that head against your swollen bud. You’d peer down in anticipation as he shoved that shaft in his palm and stroked it; letting precum seep on your folds as he prepared to enter you. Your heat and tiny hole practically oozing for him. “You ready, baby? Ready for all this dick?” Nodding your head profusely in response as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Yes! Fuck me, baby..” with that, Reiner leaned forward and placed a hand on the headboard to steady himself, allowing you to hold your own legs open..seconds later, he was inside of you and it was the best damn feeling in the world. Better than any trophy or touchdowns…this was all the prize he needed. Sucking his teeth, he’d sit there for just a moment to gather his bearings. A perfect fit if you had to say so..the way you so easily conformed to his shape and took him with ease, he never wanted to pull out. Even so, he’d begin to move and find his pace, slowly thrusting up into you.

“Fuck…this pussy’s so warm, baby. Might not get me to pull out tonight. Shit..” admitting as he glared into your doe brown eyes; unable to stare at your pretty face for too long because he’d end up nutting too quickly. But he paced himself and started out slow. That thick, long cock stretching you open and causing you to cream with only a few thrusts in. The two of you watched it slide in and out, batting your eyes and whimpering with each one. It felt so fucking good, you didn’t know what to do. “Fill me up, baby..nut all in this pussy. I don’t care.” Whereas he normally resorts to splattering it all over your tits or plump ass but tonight, you were going to be stuffed with every drop of that warm seed. So Reiner continued feeding you those deep, long strokes..even speeding up the tempo to really get you acclimated. “You take me so good, sweetheart. I fucking love it..how nasty you get f’r me. You’re gonna let me see all of that tonight, right? Are you gonna be a good lil’ slut for daddy?” And the answer was a given. But if he didn’t want to take your word for it, all he had to do was keep dicking you down like this and you’d get nasty in ways he’d never seen.

“Keep going…fuck me just like that and you’ll see for yourself, baby.”

challenge was as good as accepted. With your arms coiling your legs, hands reaching around to stroke your clit..(y/n) massaged that swollen clit and egged him on. You’d tell him how big that dick was and how amazing it felt. Even telling him to go as deep as he wanted, until you felt it in your stomach. You didn’t want him to stop until these sheets were soaked! Which weren’t just says to inflate his head. Reiner had a bit of a praise kink and you knew if you said the right things to make him tick, you’d be crawling out of here. And just as you suspected, it worked like a charm! A minute or so later, he was jolting you around, pumping you full of cock, so much so, you were practically impaled on it. Those big tits swaying freely. “You fucking this pussy so good, daddy..damn.” Whining as you clawed at the backs of your legs. Looking for any bit of comfort in these brutal strokes. Smacking noises ensued and a puddle of frothy white warmth spilled from that little hole.

“I’m fucking you good, baby? That pussy creaming just for me…better than that asshole, right?” That much was obvious! By now, Reiner had taken the place of your hand and began massaging your bud with his thumb pad before roughly fucking up into you. It made him wonder just how long you could take this dick before you climaxed. He’d alternate his speeds just to toy with you; slowing down when you began to pulsate around his shaft and practically drill you into the mattress when you broke eye contact with him, which he hated. This was an entirely different side of your beloved Rei. One that was far more aggressive and a lot less forgiving. He didn’t have it in him at the moment to take it easy on you. You’d find yourself matching his energy and sucking on your teeth to take the brunt of the thrusts.

“Fuck him, focus on me…this is your pussy, right?” “It’s mine, all mine, baby…” “Prove it. Fuck me like you mean it. Do it.”

and with that order, he’d gladly follow. It was as if you had activated something inside of him. Sometimes, he needed that extra boost but once you got his engine going, there was no slowing down! Aggressively grunting into your ear, Reiner leaned down with his hand snaked around your throat, causing you to gasp as he restricted your air. Gasping and clawing at his abs as those strokes became a lot harsher, he’d swat you away with the opposite hand before slapping your left cheek. “You wanna touch something, rub that fucking clit..” commanding with nothing but pure lust behind those hazel eyes. You were trembling and only a mere matter of minutes from coming. But he didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t going to pull out, just as he said so if you wanted to do it, it’d be with him lodged inside of you. The silky fleshiness of that tight little cunt was something serious. Sticky, tight, wet and warm: a dangerous combination for a man. He loved no feeling more in this world than fucking the shit out of you! At this point, the headboard was banging against the wall and your neighbors were going to be pissed but he didn’t give a shit. He wanted the whole world to know who you belonged to. Your entrance was wrapped around him..the grip practically unreal and he was only able to make it halfway. For now that was..

“ ‘S too much! Rei…” crying out with a shrill whimper that only further fed his fire. Feeding you yet another heavy handed slap along with some intense kisses, Reiner shoved every inch he could muster inside of you. “I don’t give a fuck..take me. Make me fit.” Just then, his hand would coil your throat before leaning down to grimace in your face. “I said…make me fit. Open up.” Speaking for both your tight hole and mouth, which he filled with spit shortly after. Something that took you completely off guard. You wouldn’t label the sex between the two of you vanilla by any means but it wasn’t often that he exercised so much aggression. Fucking him was always so intimate….passionate and soft, but tonight, you were merely his to use. And there wasn’t a single complaint about it! You wanted him to see that side of you; to drudge it back out and let him know, it was for his pleasure only. Gritting your teeth, you’d eventually laugh and let your tongue wag around outside of your mouth in a breathy haze. You’d beg for more..asking him to feed you more saliva and deeper, rougher strokes until the bed began to quake! Your voices were so brash and loud, others may have suspected you were fighting. But it was nothing of the sort. Just fierce, explosive lovemaking between two equally obsessed partners who had something to prove.

“Right there, Rei! Fuck me, fuck me—AHH!” Belting out in a loud cry as you rapidly massaged your clit and brought forth your very first of many orgasms. Without so much as a warning, you wet up the entire lower half of his torso and cock..spraying a powerful stream of squirt juices all over that skin and that seemed to really light that dormant spark in his eyes. Watching you flood the sheets had him ready to taste it all for himself. “Wait, sweetheart. Don’t be stingy now…save some for me..” With your legs still trembling uncontrollably, he’d grasp both and part them to each side before diving head first in between. Your sensitive little clit was severely swollen..even so, that didn’t stop him from flicking his tongue around it and sucking on your delicate folds. Running his fingers throughout the thin membranes. Reiner left a few kisses on those beautiful pussy lips and inhaled the essence of your feminine scent in the process. He was so adamant on laying claim throughout every inch of your body tonight!

“Shiiit!” Exclaiming with a high pitched laugh, (y/n) attempted to place your hands on his scruffy blonde locks and shoulder blades in an attempt to push him away but to no avail. This was his and all for the taking. “Okaaay! You win...eating the fuck outta this pussy!” but with the same smugness he initially started with, Reiner continued devouring that cunt with all his might. Sucking and slurping, disrespectfully thrusting his tongue into you before spitting into those folds once more; shooting you a wink in response. “..told you I don’t play fair.” That’s when you felt yourself become full yet again, this time with two fingers..working themselves in and out. Having not too long experienced your climatic peak, you’d find yourself attempting to feign off another one. And he wasn’t going to let up until you were trickling down his chin. Trembling profusely, your eyes crossed and your chest heaved once more. In that moment, that impending pang in the bottom of your belly swelled until it could no longer be housed. His large, calloused hands gripping the innards of your thighs, pinning them to the sheets so that your only option was to grind yourself against his face. “That’s it, baby. Ride that fucking tongue…put it in my mouth. Said you were gonna get nasty f’r me so do it…” laying heavy handed smacks against your skin to keep you alert and even slapping those plump pussy lips as well once withdrawing those fingers. He wasn’t even giving you time to react to the stimuli coming from every angle. Dredging up one sticky shower of cum right after the next. It was as if you couldn’t stop. Something akin to a broken fire hydrant..

“Squirt in this mouth, baby. I want it all.” Greedily demanding with his hands roaming around your asscheeks as he dove head first into your center. But just as quickly you become adjusted to having your pussy eaten, you find yourself lying there, shaking until he leaned up and grasped your ankle..tugging you towards the end of the bed. Quite honestly, it astounded you how he had so much energy to handle you like this after playing such an intense game! But being fueled by envy and lust had that effect on a person.. “Rei..please. F-fuck!” From there, you’d find your legs folded back once more and this time, your entire body being hoisted from the bed frame. “Grab my neck and hold still…” his only instructions because he was handling the rest. By the time you realized what exactly he was up to, your legs were coiled around his torso, and you were being impaled on his cock. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know..you were loving this just as much as he was! Being bounced around and used as his own personal fleshlight. Even after being pounded into oblivion before, he was still pumping you full of cock and impaling you as he thrusted those hips upward, all while forcing you down on that shaft. “Thereee we go…so fucking tight. Wrapped around my dick like this.” That cunt clutching him with all you had, so much so, it’d make him toss his head back. You could tell it was taking its toll, by the loud grunting and grip on your ass. Not to mention the veins bulging from his forehead.

“Gonna have you so full…put all my cum in this pussy. Ready for that, baby? Huh?” Asking the question before using all of his strength to hammer up into you; jolting that body around.

“Yes! Come in me, come in this fucking pussy!” Whimpering whilst your nails dredged into the skin, clawing their way through as you attempted to brace yourself. You could feel that tip thrashing against your sensitive core, pulsating inside of you. You were still trickling down his shaft and came one more time before he was unable to hold out any longer. Gritting his teeth and trembling himself, Reiner made a split second decision to lie you back on the bed and pull you into a mating press. Hieverimh above you with a foot planted onto the bed as he buried every inch of that big cock inside of you. Suddenly, you’d feel him come to a halt..breath hitching in the back of his throat. Suddenly, you’d feel something pouring inside of you and it was the warming sensation of his nut spilling into your womb. He had been holding back not only from tonight but all the days that practice and school had kept him away from you. Brushing the side of his face, you’d talk him through his orgasm as he clutched the sheets. Telling him how good it felt and that you loved when he filled you up.

“Thank you, daddy..feels so good.”

the next thing you knew, he’d collapse beside you before roping you into a passionate, deep fledged kiss. Even cradling the side of your head as you both came down from your highs. There wasn’t a better feeling than this..

“I love you so much…you know that, right?” Declaring between long winded, baited huffs as he held you close to his chest. He’d place soft, tender pecks on your temple and lovingly caress your skin with all the gentleness in the world. A far cry from what had just transpired. Despite his rough handling and aggression, he still harbored deep, immense love for you. Love that no one else could ever replicate or even dream of giving you. Not even your ex..

“I love you more than anything, (y/n)..I’m sorry I got so worked up but it’s just what you do to me..”

“Oh Rei…I love you more. Please, don’t apologize…I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one I want and ever will. Believe me when I say that.”

and wherever he was, that was the side you wanted to be on. The winning team..

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mvltisstuff · 8 months

Text

going, going, gone pt. 2 - c.f

summary: y/n leaves to do what susannah always wanted for her boys.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

a/n: gif is not mine, but i was so so happy to see how much everyone loved part one!! i’ve never had to tag people, but i will try and do that at the end of the story <3 this is also not following the books, that i haven’t read because i’m the worst reader 😭

y/n stood on the opposite side of susannah’s bed, visiting her in boston after she was waiting to see her girls. her connection to laurels daughters was always something susannah felt from the moment they were born. she always wanted girls of her own, but she was still blessed with her two sons.

belly was sitting on the bed, a bright blue dress as susannah looked into her eyes. laurel had gone out to run errands for her friend, so the girls had stayed with susannah.

it was clear that her condition was declining, and rapidly. her face didn’t have the usual sunshine look, and she appeared weaker than y/n and belly were ever used to. her skinny hands trailed to theirs and wrapped together. her touch went from a warm comfort to as light as a feather. somehow, through the cloudy day, the sun poked through and her angelic smile blessed the girls.

“i’ve been missing you so much,” susannah grinned, placing a hand on belly’s thigh and grabbing y/n’s hand with the other. “i’m so glad you came to see me. i needed to see you girls.”

the look on belly’s face was almost coated with uncomfortableness, her naïve self not used to seeing people in this condition. y/n didn’t want susannah to see her fall apart in her grasp, so she made herself blend with tranquility.

the time had passed where they wanted to attempt to save susannah. now, they knew it was only a matter of time until they lost her. they may not have physically lost susannah, but they lost the spark in her a long time ago.

“the boys love you, you know,” she tells belly, and then turning her head to y/n. “both of you.”

“i know,” y/n replies, seeing belly trying to find the right words.

“promise me something?” she asks, looking at belly who’s head perks up. “look after them for me.”

“you’re going to do that yourself,” belly remarks barely over a whisper, moments away from letting the dam break. y/n’s cried enough tears for susannah, but somehow they don’t seem to stop. watching her whole family experience this grief makes her feel less alone, but seeing her baby sister fall apart is near unbearable.

she watched as belly crumpled on the bed into susannah’s arms, and her once warm grasp felt lighter than ever.

ever since her death, y/n wants to look at belly the same. her actions make it so hard. she promised susannah to take care of her boys, and she failed. she let jeremiah sit around knowing he wasn’t the one she truly wanted. afterwards, she made conrad watch in heartbreak her new self with jeremiah.

that scares y/n, knowing that she’ll never truly be able to pick between them. in the long run, no matter who she “picks”, she’s hurting more people than she thinks.

she figures the best thing she can do is be there for conrad, as belly and jeremiah don’t think it’s necessary.

as she drove further and further away, the music she normally sings to turned into static. conrad would probably still be in cousins, not wanting to face his family back in boston. the traffic had quieted down, for people would be home with their families.

she pulled up the the house that had gotten it’s life back before julia took it all away. conrad and y/n were the main ones trying to save the house from being invaded by another family. even if they couldn’t, the cousins house would always have the fisher’s name on it. when y/n walked up to the front door, she slowly turned the doorknob and stepped in.

her footsteps lightly echoed due to the emptiness of the house, some of the front rooms still looking lifeless. y/n walked around, picturing everything exactly how susannah had it, all the portraits and loving decor she had around. she knew, though, that’s how conrad will set everything up.

the sun was just starting to dip down below the horizon, and when she spotted conrad sitting with his feet dipped in the pool, he looked lower than the sun ever could get.

she quietly stepped out onto the back, not saying a word until he noticed her. his head slowly tilted around, feeling her sweet eyes burning through him. he felt more relieved. she’s the only person he wants to see. she’s the one person who hasn’t ripped his heart out and used it.

“what are you doing back?” he questions, keeping his collected expression.

“i didn’t think you really wanted to be alone. you can’t fool me, conrad,” she smirks softly, moving over to sit next to him on the edge of the pool. she dips her feet into the cool water, not yet graced by the hot summer air.

“i don’t need you to be here for me, i don’t think i’m too good of company right now.”

“i think that’s exactly why you need me,” y/n says as conrad looks back to her. he’s always noticed y/n’s beauty on the outside, but he never got to really appreciate the inside. her mind was just as beautiful as her hair when the wind blows it, or the dimples on her cheeks when she’s happy. “you don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“yeah,” he sighs, swaying his feet in the pool. “i thought jere would at least help me.”

“i talked to belly,” y/n tells him, seeing him quickly freeze and lean his head back.

“it’s not a big deal, y/n, really,” conrad says.

“it is to me. i never thought of her like this, but i don’t understand how she could do that to you.”

“it’s a me problem, clearly jeremiah’s better than i am.”

“that’s not true. belly’s young and thinks she’s innocent. she doesn’t deserve someone like you. she’ll never take the time to know you, but she’s going to jeremiah because he’s ‘easier’.” y/n replies. “you’re perfectly fine the way you are, and you never have to change for her, or me.”

“my mom always saw me with belly. i think that’s the worst part.”

“but your mom didn’t see what belly’s done to you. susannah would never want you to change in order to be with her.” y/n says, clearly to him. “susannah asked belly to be there, and she failed.”

“what do you mean?”

“when belly and i went to visit, she asked us to take care of you and jeremiah. belly barely looked after you, and i don’t even know if she’s helping jeremiah.”

“i get it, though. i left her at prom, and broke her heart.”

“was it shitty of you? yes, i’m not gonna lie to you. at this point, she’s taking it too far by playing with you and now it’s jeremiah’s turn.”

“maybe my mom was wrong,” he looks away, connecting his eyes back with the minute waves in the water. “i miss her. she was like a breath of fresh air, and i feel like i haven’t gotten that since she died.”

“she’s still here,” y/n tells him, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up a bit.

“i still feel her sometimes. if i’m home and i hear a noise, i’ll think she’s cooking, or painting. i don’t need people to see me fall apart.”

“you never have to hide, conrad. not anymore, and not from me.”

the next time he locks eyes with y/n, he can majorly see the sincerity in her face. there’s still a hint of when they were young in their eyes, memories swimming back into conrad’s head. every time she talked to him, all the time she spent with him. every party she skipped because conrad didn’t feel up to it, and she didn’t want him to be alone. he never felt nervous around y/n the way he did with her sister. they always had a complex relationship, but never once did y/n fail to be next to him. conrad let his inch closer to y/n’s, letting her hand lay on top of his, leaving solace in him. he never noticed how soft her hands were, literally and figuratively. she never once used him and glued his pieces back together. it’s then that he realizes that’s something belly never did.

impulsively, he moves his body more toward y/n, trying to get all the gladdening she can give. she’s more than happy to give it to him, letting conrad hold onto her and have her help him. the world around the boy became lighter, almost forgetting about his former despondency caused by belly. the closer he got to y/n, the more he thought that his mother had mistaken belly for the one.

he brushes a stand of y/n’s hair behind her ear, placing his hand on the side of her neck. she breathes lightly, knowing what conrad wants from her, but not knowing if he needs it.

“conrad,” she whispers, his name coming across incredibly from her lips. “you know i love you.”

“of course,” he says back, his hand trailing down her arm.

“but i won’t be a redemption because you cannot have belly. i’ve been the second choice once and i destroyed myself. i won’t do it again.”

“belly’s not who i want. i don’t think i’ve ever loved belly the way i have for you.” it all felt so sudden, the tension growing thicker between them as conrad only wanted to deepen the connection. y/n was just so horrified of hurting him more. she knows that she could help him and love him how he should, but she needs to know that he’s not just trying to get belly back.

“i think we need time, conrad. please?” she asks, and he nods, slipping his hand back down and grabbing her hand. “but trust me when i say that’s it’s not over with us.”

the meaning behind her words is stronger. in reality, she just wants to dive into conrad and accept anything he has to give, but he needs to strengthen his own heart first. he needs to know what he wants. if y/n needs time, he will wait for her.

tags: @historygeekqueen @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @celesteblack08 @parkerdayaa @shelby-x

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f1byjessie · 2 months

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part three.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 314,691 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris

yourusername is it time for bahrain yet?! can’t wait to see these two back in action again soon! 🧡

view all 4,981 comments

mclaren We keep asking ourselves the same thing! Our engines are ready and we’re raring to go! 🧡

↳ yourusername you truly understand me mclaren admin

↳ mclaren we think you’re the one who truly understands us y/n

↳ user y/n x mclaren admin?? 🤯 the plot twist none of us saw coming

user missing these lads so much lately

user THE RADIO SILENCE ON OSCAR’S SOCIALS WAS KILLING ME I DEPEND ON THESE MEN TOO MUCH THEY KEEP ME ALIVE 😭😭

user the f1 drought is real rn

user MCLAREN SUPREMACY 2024

↳ user i’m trying to be delulu but we all know it’s just gonna be the mv33 and redbull show again this year 🫤

user soooo are we all just gonna pretend like we didn’t see the pics of her with garrett ward orrrrr?

↳ user no bc i was just thinking the same thing 👀

↳ user wait that was actually her??? cuz you can like barely see her face so i thought it was just a joke???

user what a fake ass bitch

user she only posts other ppl on her acc cuz she knows her ugly ass face would scare everyone else away

user homegirl needs to stay tf away from my man fr 😤😤

user god what a hoe 😒 she already has these two that she could fuck with idk why she needed to go after garrett

user SLUT SLUT SLUT

user if she tries anything with anyone else on the city team i’m gonna lose my shit fr

↳ user same omg

↳ user honestly i’m just glad she didn’t go after grealish or haaland 🙌

↳ user she probably would’ve tried if they weren’t taken already 🙄

↳ user nah i bet she’s totally a homewrecker garrett’s probably just the first on her list

user oh… these comments… 😰

↳ user right???

INSTAGRAM.

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tagged: mancity

yourusername the city boys know how it’s done! and looking pretty good in orange too 😉

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mancity The lads are looking good indeed! This weekend’s match against Newcastle should be an exciting one! ⚽️🩵

mclaren ✍️ Jeremy ✍️ Doku ✍️ and ✍️ Ruben ✍️ Dias ✍️ McLaren ✍️ 2025

↳ mancity Do you think Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri would look good in sky blue? 🤔

user funny how she posts every city man BUT garrett

user god when does she go back to f1??

↳ user march iirc

↳ user well it can’t get here soon enough jfc

user FUCK OFF WE DON’T WANT YOU

user you’re a slag and should accept the fact that any guy would only want you bc of how easy you are

user i’ll bet my left leg that the only reason the f1 boys haven’t shacked up with her yet is cuz they know she’s probably riddled with disease since she drools over every guy that comes near her 😒 like girl needs to bffr and realize that throwing herself at every male in her vicinity isn’t gonna land her a husband and it just making her even more of a slut

↳ user nah i’ll bet they’ve all already done her over in f1 but nobody will touch her now that they’ve passed her round so she had to come over to football just to try and get someone to touch her again 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope garrett realizes how much of a slut she is and breaks up with her

user sick and tired of bitches like this getting with footballers and being all controlling. like i’ll bet she’s gonna tell garrett he can’t go out and party with his mates anymore bc he has to spend time in with her and then she’ll get all pissy about him having female fans bc she’s insecure and knows that if garrett got to meet a REAL fan he’d jump ship immediately. those of us who ACTUALLY care about footballers know their fans are super important to them and we wouldn’t hinder their relationship with them just bc we’re jealous or insecure. garrett needs to be with someone who actually supports him and is willing to let him do what he wants instead of controlling him like he’s a dog on a leash.

user kys like genuinely

user god i can’t wait for this skank to die 😒

“Hey Lando, it’s me. Your best friend. Again,” you give a humorless chuckle. “I could seriously use some of your wizened advice right about now, so, uh, please just give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

It seems poetic in a cruel sort of way that less than a week ago you were walking Etihad Campus and feeling like you were on top of the world━ working a new albeit temporary gig, adding the Manchester City name to your list of clients, having photos of world-renowned footballers in your portfolio━ and now you’ve resigned yourself to hiding away in the women’s restroom, locked in a stall because it’s the only place you could think of where nobody would be able to find you.

You’re on the verge of tears and feeling rather stupid for it.

It’s the third time today alone that your call has gone straight to voicemail, and with the dozens of unread texts you’ve sent in the last week added to the mix, it’s starting to paint a picture you’re not very happy with. Lando is ignoring you. Or he’s blocked you. Or he’s blocked you because he’s ignoring you━

You bite down on your lip, hard, to keep back the sob crawling its way up your throat.

You’re not a PR officer, you hadn’t been lying when you told Garrett that, but you’ve spent enough time around the McLaren PR teams that you’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know, at the very least, that the best thing you can do is just ignore the comments.

That’s what they tell all the athletes.

What they don’t tell the athletes is that ignoring the comments is much easier said than done, especially when your career requires you to have such a significant online presence. And the thing is, despite all of these strangers hounding you with every name under the sun and criticizing your capabilities, qualifications, and very existence, the thing that hurts the most is the radio silence from the only person you know could make it all better.

Now, more than ever, you need your best friend. But he isn’t here.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and unlock the stall with great reluctance. You know better than to be hiding away, shirking your responsibilities while crying over a few missed phone calls. You have a job to do, and a real professional wouldn’t let something as simple as a handful of tasteless comments get in the way of that.

You should be used to them. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Your first month at McLaren wasn’t entirely different.

When you were first hired on, Carlos had been in Formula One for a handful of years already and had built up a devotedly loyal fanbase with a decently large percentage of possessive fangirls who had come for your head the moment your existence had been announced.

The McLaren Instagram account had posted a picture of you standing between their two grinning drivers, your camera strung around your neck, with a very nice caption welcoming you to the team, and despite no indication that you were by any means involved with either of them in a way that went beyond professional, the comments had been taken over by feral teenage girls who saw the act of you simply standing near Carlos to be a direct threat against their “chances.”

Though it had been frustrating being met with childish threats and petty insults in your comments, you hadn’t really held it against any of them. You remember being a teenage girl and crushing on a celebrity. Deep down you knew you never had a chance with them, but that hadn’t stopped you from hanging posters in your bedroom and doodling their name beneath yours inside of scribbled hearts in your diary.

Regardless, it had taken close to a month for the negativity to die down, and you hadn’t had Lando then, either, so now shouldn’t be much different.

In fact, everyone on the Manchester City team━ trainers, physios, media coordinatiors, and anyone inbetween━ has been very polite about everything between you and Garrett. A lot of them have just avoided saying anything about it, which you’re very grateful for because you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your grimace while thanking them for their well wishes, and the few who have mentioned it typically only say something vague like a wishing you the best of luck or hoping you’re happy.

An intern gave you a sympathetic smile the other day, and you’d nearly burst into tears in the middle of the office of the Director of Communications, so you know you aren’t truly alone in this.

You just feel alone.

Exiting the bathroom is a simple affair. There’s no one standing post outside ready to give you any shit for being hidden away, and nobody comes sprinting around the corner as you make your way down the hall to the press conference room that’s been temporarily turned into your base of operations.

You think you’ll probably be able to go the rest of the afternoon without running into anyone, when you open your door and find━ sitting in the front row of the seats typically saved for journalists and the press, scrolling across his phone with a disinterested look painted across his face━ Jack Grealish.

“Jack,” you greet, a bit shocked. You close the door to the room gently behind you, and cross the distance to your desk. “Did we have a meeting scheduled? It must’ve completely slipped my mind, I sincerely apologize.”

He offers you a polite smile. “No, we didn’t, so no need to be sorry. I actually just wanted to check in. See how things are going with everything.”

You blink at him in surprise. Apart from Garrett, you haven’t really had much time to speak with the other players. They wish you good morning and good afternoon when they see you, and if a ball goes astray they always call out for you to watch your head, but between their morning training and their afternoon training, their strategy reviews at lunch, and the frequent in between meetings with physios, nutritionists, and trainers, they don’t get much time to chit chat with a simple photographer.

You clear your throat, “Erm, it’s going well. I’ve gotten some really good shots these past few days. There’s one with Rodrigo that I’m particularly proud of. It should do well with the fans.”

“And things with Ward?”

You purse your lips.

“Figured.” Jack sighs. “Look, nearly everyone you run into here knows or has at least some inkling into what he’s like. He’s a prick. None of the lads on the team like him, it’s why the managers are trying to get him out of here.”

You lower yourself down into your chair. “He told me they were planning to trade him off because of his reputation.”

Jack scoffs, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the ‘official’ reason. They can’t cut his contract early for legal reasons, so they’re waiting for it to expire and coming up with an excuse for why they ain’t re-signing him. It’s really just ‘cause the rest of us can’t keep dealing with his massive ego and the fact that he’s a misogynistic fuck who doesn’t know the first thing about respect.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you mutter with a sigh.

If he expected you to defend Garrett and is surprised by the fact that you haven’t, Jack doesn’t show it. He looks relaxed sitting across from you, like you’re having a casual conversation and not actively shit talking a member of his team. It gives you the impression that he knows significantly more about Garrett than you do, and that because of what he knows he probably figured out that one party in the relationship is not the most willing of participants.

“How’d you get all wrapped up it in then? Didn’t figure you to be the type to go after pricks like Ward.”

You debate over whether you should tell him or not. There isn’t much Jack can do about the situation regardless, but it would at least get things off your chest and if someone else knew then maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

There’s only so many days you can spend hiding out in the women’s restroom trying not to bawl your eyes out, and you’ve already reached your limit.

You heave a sigh, “It’s kind of fucked up really.” A pen on your desk catches your attention and you start to fiddle with it, avoiding Jack’s eyes which have focused directly onto you. “He asked if I would help him fix up his reputation by pretending to be his girlfriend so he could show everyone that he’s matured and can hold down a steady relationship. When I told him no, he threatened to make up a lie about inappropriate conduct to get me fired and blacklisted from the industry, so for the sake of preserving my career I agreed.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m real sorry he did that, Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s happened, so, there’s nothing I can really do except wait it out at this point.”

When you look up and meet his gaze, Jack looks murderous. His hands are clenched into fists on the armrests, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are twisted downward in a scowl.

“If you need anything,” he starts, “let me know. And I mean it. We all know how Ward can be. He’s a knobhead. So if you need anything━” his emphasis on the word and what that implies makes you feel more comforted than anything has since the whole fiasco started, “━then you let me know, or you tell one of the other boys and they’ll find me, alright?”

All you can do is nod.

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry

━━ a/n: no lando yet, but we've got a cutesy little grealish scene to make up for it because i couldn't have a story with manchester city and not include him! lowkey writing this part made me wanna write for a footballer too... anyways! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 months

Text

Practice On Me — Bonus Part — Fin x Reader.

Summary: A reimagining of how things would have gone if Reader had decided she wanted Fin — despite him being her friend’s father.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Heavy on the smut. 18+, minors dni. Some jealous and possessiveness. Mentions of forbidden relationships/affairs. If the choices Reader makes in this are something you’re against, I urge you not to read! 🫶🏻

Rita’s is like no other place you’ve been — or seen — before.

Is this what you’ve missed out on, trapped within the frozen maw of Windhaven? There is no place like this there, of such vibrancy and euphoria. The music, the coloured faelights, the energy — it all makes you feel…on top of the world.

Like there’s life outside the misery you’ve known.

Mor knocks a shot back, grimacing as she slams the empty glass onto the bar. A sudden burst of giggles leaves her as she says, “My father would have my head if he could see me right now. Literally.”

You don’t doubt that for a second, because Mor looks resplendent, not just in her natural beauty, but her joy. She has danced and drank and kissed and danced some more. And seeing her like this…it makes you glad that she convinced you to come out with her tonight.

“My father would have my head, too,” you tell her over the music. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”

At that, she rolls her eyes, and she reaches for two more shots. “Here’s to saying fuck the males,” she knocks her glass against yours. “May they all perish.”

You’ll happily drink to that. With the alcohol that has you in its grip, you’re buzzed on thoughts of storming back to Windhaven and confronting all your demons. Confronting anyone and everyone who has ever hurt you and made you feel less than you are. Your father. Lord Devlon. Azriel—

You banish that thought as the liquid slides down your throat with a satisfying burn. You are in Velaris, not Windhaven. A new place with new people, where anything feels possible. The thought is heady and dizzying.

Someone calls Mor’s name, and she glances over her shoulder, her beautiful eyes lighting up again. You truly don’t know how often she’s able to escape the Hewn City and get away to Velaris, but judging by the amount of friends she’s introduced you to tonight, she’s certainly made her mark here.

“Let’s go dance with them!” Mor yells over the music, grabbing your hand.

You think that dancing might be the answer to everything you’ve never known, and so you gladly follow; gladly throw yourself into the thrall of the busy floor.

But that’s when you see him.

Something…some deep power…compels you to look up. Coaxes your eyes to that area a level above, where the city’s VIP guests spend copious amounts of money on copious amounts of alcohol and drink it from their cushy velvet booths. They’re reserved for associates of the High Lord, a not-so-formal place to meet to discuss not-so-casual things.

But none of that matters. There could be an entire circus up there right now, and still all you would notice is — him.

He notices you, too.

The High Lord’s eyes zero in on you from up above. You watch, rooted to the spot, as he takes in the sight of you, from your braided back hair, to your painted face, your dress and the legs exposed by them. He looks like…like he’s finally setting his sights upon an image that was merely fantasy up until now.

He braces his arms on the balustrade. And he just stares.

You want to know what he’s doing here. Whether he’s at Rita’s for business or…or for pleasure. You’ve heard that there are rooms upstairs for people willing to pay the price. Perhaps there’s a lover up there with him somewhere, waiting to explore every last inch of that glorious, sculpted body—

The bleating jealousy that makes your heart twist is…unexpected. And not ideal; not one bit.

He is Rhysand’s father. Things may have been fucked up royally with Azriel, and you may have been burned by the experience — but Fin is Rhysand’s father.

Your friend’s father.

Your friend’s father who has just so happened to help keep you feeling alive these past weeks. With his layers-deep allure, the sweet, sweet words that roll off his tongue. His hospitality, his generosity. His kindness. All of it, you’d attributed to him being a natural charmer, a High Lord who knows precisely what to say, what to do.

It strikes you in that moment — just how much it’s all sunk its way into your bones and made you feel…dangerous.

He watches you like a cat with a mouse. Watches as somebody grabs your hand and yanks you into the tightly knit dancing bodies. The music pulses through you from head to toe, a frenzied tune of strings and keys that somehow come together to create the feeling of being borne aloft. Being on top of the world.

As you become lost to the sensation of dance, you’re glad to forget all your thoughts about Fin. You don’t want to wonder what he’s doing here. You don’t want to imagine what those strong, rough hands might get up to, where they might venture.

You become sandwiched between two males who dance with you in a way that makes you forget your wings were ever stolen. They touch you and touch each other, and you welcome it all, happy to be someone, somewhere, else. At least for a while.

But there’s suddenly a foreign touch to your shoulder. That of a cold, meaty hand that stills your movements and draws your attention. The two males happily slink away and begin grinding on each other, and you spin on the spot to find a tall, stocky male who looks like he punches people in the face for the hell of it.

“Y/N?” He checks, and you nod. “The High Lord wishes to speak with you. Upstairs.”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes searching for Mor and finding her just as she’s following a male and female to a cloaked-off area at the back. That’ll be her occupied for the remainder of the night. You’re officially going solo.

But not for long. Not as the bouncer juts his chin in the direction of the staircase and begins to lead you there. Perhaps it makes you a fool, but you follow without a word.

He pulls back a rope and gestures for you to go on up, and then he’s refastening it behind you and turning back to train a keen eye on the dance floor. It’s purely the alcohol that hits you with enough of an ego to climb those stairs like you belong amongst the chandeliers and velvet booths.

But you look good — amazing, even. You know you do. And looking like this, things like scars and other insecurities seem so trivial. You’ve taken back the right to feel as beautiful as you are. You wear your Illyrian features proudly, and you’re pretty and lithe and graceful—

And your heel catches on the top step of the staircase, almost sending you sprawling to the floor — if not for the warm hand that catches your elbow.

“Easy.” Fin rasps into your ear, setting you steady on your feet.

Your numbed, inebriated senses are not immune to the effect of his voice, it would seem. The deep baritone, rough as jagged rock, pushes its way into your skin, your veins, and spreads far faster than any alcohol could.

“Pardon me, my Lord,” you answer, and you’re unable to shove down the hysterical giggle that claws up your throat. “Fuck, you’re the High Lord.”

He cocks a dark eyebrow. “And you are drunk.”

“The whiskey they serve here is immense.”

“I’ll be sure to extend your compliments to Rita herself.”

Is that, you wonder, who he’s up here meeting? Perhaps the elusive Rita is a close associate of his. Perhaps they do deals in both business and pleasure.

And taking in your fill of the High Lord right now, in a dark button-up shirt and fitted breeches of a slate grey, you would not blame Rita one little bit.

Gods, he’s exquisite. Rhysand may resemble Roza more than he does Fin, but…with two parents of such stunning beauty, it’s no wonder your friend is as handsome as he is.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you make no secret of the way your eyes linger on him. Tonight is dangerous, and you’re enjoying it.

“Nor I, you,” he narrows his gaze down at you. “Imagine my surprise, considering that when I left the palace earlier this evening, you were curled up in the library with a book. And yet, here you are. Wearing…” mahogany eyes take in the short cut of your dress, “…that.”

“Mor surprised me with a visit.”

“My niece ought to be more careful not to press her father’s buttons too much,” a muscle in his chiselled jaw ticks. “And I think you ought to be more careful not to push mine.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Bold. So foolishly bold of you. You’ll regret it once sober, you’re sure. “Was there a particular reason you summoned me up here, my Lord? I was rather enjoying dancing.”

“I noticed. And I’m taking you home.”

“What—”

Before you can even finish the word, Fin’s gripping your elbow again, and darkness sweeps you away.

Being winnowed while drunk is not a fun experience.

You feel the cosmic, air-light step from one place to another. Your stomach lurches, your head spinning. You can barely get a hold of yourself as you cling to Fin and prepare your feet to touch solid ground.

And then the darkness is gone, and you’re back in the toasty, warm glow of the palace’s library. Your knees buckle, trying to drag you to the floor, but Fin keeps you upright.

“What the…” you gawp up at him. “Why did you bring me home?”

He ensures you’re able to stand on your feet before pushing away from you. Doesn’t even look at you as he commands, “Get to bed.”

“I was enjoying myself.”

“Just as those males were enjoying you, too. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it off. Get to bed.”

He strides towards the door, his knuckles white from how hard he grips the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side. But sword or no, you refuse to give up so easily.

“No,” you say simply. “I will not.”

Fin stops. Goes still. And then he turns back to you.

His temper is clear on his face, but he doesn’t storm back over like you’re half expecting him to. Instead, his eyes shutter, and he seems to take a deep, soothing breath. When he’s looking at you once more, he flicks his wrist in your direction.

And immediately, gone is the haze of the alcohol.

Immediately, you’re completely lucid, completely steady on your feet. Not a lick of inebriation remains, as if you had, indeed, slept it off.

“Did you just sober me up?” you’re outraged by the mere idea.

“Yes.” Fin admits shamelessly. “Now you won’t fall victim to a hangover in the morning — a favour from me, to you, and I ask you in return to get to bed. And don’t even think about trying to venture back out. I’ll know.”

Your blood boils. And the anger isn’t simply because of your ruined fun, but because…because it stings, the way Fin is treating you with such contempt. Scolding you like you’re little more than a petulant child. He’s been nothing but wonderful since you came to Velaris, and yet now, he speaks to you like…like most of the males back in Windhaven do.

It makes you see red.

“What right have you to dictate how I spend my evening?” you snap. “I was under the impression that my free time is my own, and if I wish to go and get drunk and dance like a fool, that is up to me.”

Cold, beautiful anger hardens Fin’s face. He stalks closer, squeezing the hilt of that sword so, so tightly. “What right have I? This is my home. My city. My court. I am your High Lord, and you choose to behave in such a way when I’ve opened my home to you and offered you refuge? When I’ve given you a place to run to and left my resources at your disposal?”

You rock back on the heels of your feet, staring at him. Every word lands a hit — as good as if he’d nocked them in a bow and fired them right at your heart. It stings. Gods, it stings. You want the careless oblivion of the alcohol back.

Because you grapple daily with the pain, the anxiety, of feeling unwanted. And you…you had begun to think that Fin actually cared for you. Actually enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

You’d begun to care about his thoughts and feelings where you were concerned. And begun to believe that it wasn’t just the hospitality and courtesy that he would dole out to any runt on the street.

His eyes seem to track the way your expression changes, your shoulders slump. You swallow. The anger is replaced, simply, by hurt.

“If I am a burden, my Lord, I apologise,” you rasp. “I don’t intend to be one. I appreciate your generosity, and I…I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”

You hope you can keep your tears at bay long enough to escape to your room. You’re pelted with shame, embarrassment, hurt. You step forward and hurry past the High Lord, desperate to book it out of there, to get to bed.

But his hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you to a stop. And he says, quietly, “wait.”

That hand on your wrist holds the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

You pin your gaze to the ground, unable to look at Fin. You hear him swallow.

“That isn’t—” his voice is gravelly. “I didn’t mean that.”

You don’t think you can speak. You remain a statue beneath his touch.

But so gently — such a contrast to the whirlwind of his actions before — he’s walking you backwards. Slow and careful. You feel your back hit the wall, and he lets go of your wrist and seems to curl his fists at his sides. There’s a desperation to the action that only then coaxes you to look up at him.

His expression is…pleading. For what, you’re not sure.

“You are the furthest thing from a burden,” he says, quietly, on an exhale. “Your presence here is very much welcomed, I assure you.”

You don’t dare breathe a word. Every last bit of your very sober courage is being thrown into maintaining eye contact. There’s none to spare for speaking.

But your lack of response seems to trouble Fin. His eyes rake over your face, searching for something. He swallows again.

And then his eyes shutter, and he whispers, “Mother above, what are you doing to me?”

You don’t know how to answer him — whether he’s even talking to you at all. He takes in a very slow, very deep breath, as though it’s the only thing that’s stopping him from…doing something. What, you’re not sure.

But you can feel it, sense it — the ferocity with which he’s swallowing down words and holding himself back. Like he wants so badly to say something, but can’t.

His eyes open, clearer than they were seconds before, and he says in a far gentler tone, “Get to bed, Y/N,” he inclines his head. “Sleep well.”

With tense, squared shoulders, he turns — and it’s you, this time, that stops him. You halt him with a hand on his arm, and you could swear you feel the muscles flex under his touch.

“Wait,” you say, not ready to let him go, not prepared to leave things between you like this. “Stay and talk with me for a while.”

His jaw clenches like he’s gritting his teeth. “That isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? We talk all the time, you and I. And there are clearly things you’re holding back from saying—”

Your words are cut short as he suddenly meets your gaze with the intensity of a blazing fire. You think it might burn you. You hope it will.

“It’s a bad idea,” he grounds out, gutturally, “not because of what I want to say. But because of what I want to do.”

“What—”

“You are my son’s close friend. You are Roza’s guest,” he tugs his arm out from under your hand. “You are far younger than I am. I am trying my hardest — I have been trying my hardest — to be a good male. And right now, a good male would take his leave and go to bed, so I bid you goodnight, Y/N.”

“Fin—”

“I hope you sleep well.”

“Fin,” you grab for him again. “What if I don’t want you to be a good male?”

Beneath your touch, he stops. Goes preternaturally still.

Words punch out of you with terrifying gall — and truth. “What if I want you to do those things—”

Quick as a flash, he’s pivoting, and he has the upper hand. Has you pressed so tightly up against the wall, his body boxing you in.

And gods, the feel of it might set you on fire. A brush of your hands, a kiss on the backs of your fingers — they’re nothing compared to the weight and press of his muscles against your body. You want your clothes to melt away, and his, too. You want your hands on his bare, hot skin.

“I don’t think you realise what you’re saying,” he growls.

“I do,” you breathe. “I am completely sober. Completely clear of mind. And I am telling you, Fin, I want you—”

A strangled noise is the only warning you get before the High Lord’s mouth is on yours.

The kiss is pure power. It passes from him, into you, roils through your veins and makes you feel like somebody remarkable. It’s the cloak of darkness and the kiss of sin. Of somebody capable of very, very bad things.

And it’s immediately addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to get enough.

You claw at his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, and his broad hands cup your face as his mouth devours yours.

This kiss…it’s been building. The need for it has been working its way beneath your skin for a while. All the heated glances, the late-night conversations. All the thoughts, in the dead of night, of what Fin might be doing in his own bed. Wondering whether he was thinking of you.

It’s so, so forbidden. So wrong. But it feels so godsdamn right.

And the way Fin’s tongue slides between your lips and strokes into your mouth — it tells you that he feels it, too.

Your hands glide from his waist, round to his back, and you yank him harder against you. So desperate are you to feel him. Feel what you think you do to him.

He makes another low noise. And then he’s tearing his mouth from yours. But he lingers close, your foreheads touching.

“Better than I’ve been imagining,” he pants, his hands still clutching your face. “Much better.”

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” You know he has.

“I have imagined,” his thumbs sweep your cheeks, “doing all sorts of things with you, Y/N. Things that would make even the most salacious of a person blush.”

Such a relief — to know that it’s not all just some wild fantasy you’ve cooked up in your mind. That you’re not just some wayward, longing young female who craves the affections of an older male to patch her deep wounds.

No, it’s not that. It’s desire. It’s need. And it burns inside your veins until you think you might erupt into flames.

“I’ve imagined them, too,” you say, without a lick of shame.

Once again, his eyes are shuttering. Once again, he takes that slow, steadying breath. And as you watch him do so, you can’t bear the thought of him still grappling with right and wrong. You can’t bear the thought of him squaring his shoulders and walking out of here, leaving your lips bruised, your body aching, your heart hurting. You can’t bear it—

“I want you to do those things,” you lift your chin, gaze unflinching. “I want you to touch me.”

Fin’s eyes reopen.

He stares at you.

His throat bobs.

You have never seen somebody look so wild, so ravenous. There is heat everywhere, in his stare and in his taut body. His eyes flick down to your lips.

That mere glance at them is the deciding factor, it would seem.

He growls, the sound not at all one you’ve ever heard from a person, and he yanks you up into his arms and kisses you again.

So naturally, your arms twine around his neck, your legs locking around his waist. You can feel the strength of him against you, in the way he holds you. You can taste his crackling power.

He doesn’t falter in the kiss nor his steps as he carries you away from the wall, and you’re suddenly being placed down on the library’s desk, sending books and parchment and pens and ink pots flying. They all clatter loudly to the floor, and neither of you care.

But Fin does pull away to look at you, and there’s wicked, boyish charm in his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up. He merely says, “Oops.”

You surge up and kiss him again.

He sighs into it, like your mouth is the answer to all his questions. And when heated hands land on your thighs, you part them, allow him to slot his body in between. The mere feel of it has you pushing up against him, finding him hard—

But again, he pulls away. He scans your face and rasps, “Tell me you’re sure.”

You do not balk from his intensity. From the fact that this is the fucking High Lord of your court, who was changing this world and building a reputation long before you were a mere thought in your parents’ minds. You do not balk from the fact that there are a million different reasons that this is wrong.

You think only about the fact that it feels right.

And that translates into your voice as you say, firmly, “I’m sure.”

You think you see the words course through his body. They change something — forever.

“This isn’t about Roza,” he breathes — breathes heavily, like it’s taking everything to tamp down on the desire to devour you then and there. To say what needs to be said.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Nor is it about Rhysand.”

“No.”

“It’s about me and you.” He destroys what little gap exists between your bodies, his hardness pushing through his breeches, right up against your centre. His hands brace on the desk, either side of you. “And gods, I want you, Y/N. I want you so much, I can scarcely bear it.”

“Have me,” is all you manage — before he strikes.

You think, hope, that his mouth might find yours again — but he’s barely brushing it before his lips settle on your jaw. His hands travel up your legs, fingers biting into the flesh. They find your hips, thumbs delivering explorative sweeps. They tug your dress up as they climb, exposing more of you to the warmth of the room. Exposing more skin that you know he wants to lay claim to.

And when the hem of your dress is ruched around your waist, you smile — at your little wildcard exposed. That he finds no underwear hiding what sits between your legs.

Your choice to forgo a pair seems almost foretelling, now — like some part of you knew the night would end like this, and you wanted to be ready.

Fin’s eyes dip to your slick, exposed cunt. The hunger in them is almost intimidating. You open your legs just a little wider—

But his rough hand is gripping your chin, almost hard enough to hurt. And he snarls deeply, “It drove me to madness — seeing those two males dancing with you. Touching you.”

Pleasure bolts down your spine, and from the way his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your arousal is consuming him.

“Did it?” you stare back at him, welcoming the discomfort of his brutal grip.

“I wanted them dead. I wanted to draw my sword and gut them for even looking your way. For touching what I want to be mine.”

That pleasure again — skittering over your skin. His words do something to you. You bite down on a moan.

“It is yours,” you tilt your chin up to him, smiling when he immediately glances to your lips. “Take it.”

“I warn you,” he lowers his face to yours, “I don’t like to share.”

“And I warn you, High Lord,” you watch as your words land, drawing a deep, raw scent from him. “Neither do I.”

With a growl, he snaps. The kiss he gives you is not slow or sweet. His hand continues to grip your face, and his mouth attacks yours, his tongue sliding between your lips. You can’t help your moan, this time, as his taste overpowers you — a taste that you can only describe as pure thunder.

But it ends too soon, as he begins to leave a trail of heated kisses and bites and sucks along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbones. Your head falls back, and the touches are like little zips of lightning — lightning cleaving through the night sky.

“Pretty dress,” he hums against your skin — and that’s all the warning you get before that dress is ripped apart. Torn to ribbons.

No part of you is left to Fin’s imagination.

He tears his mouth from you and steps back to drink you in.

Instinct roars at you to curl in on yourself and hide. To remember that you are scarred, and flawed, and not to the liking of many — including yourself, a lot of the time.

But something about Fin’s weighty, scorching stare stops you from moving a muscle.

You lift your chin and hide nothing as he takes his fill. His eyes travel a journey from the top of your head and down — down your face, your neck, your breasts. Down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Down to that fine dusting of hair on your pelvis that tracks a thin path to—

Fin drops to his knees with a low noise. His hands wrap around your legs and prise them further apart.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he levels his face with the very centre of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

The sight of the High Lord on his knees before you — on his knees for you.

As though he senses the direction of your thoughts, his eyes flick up, and he smiles.

And then he dives in.

His tongue wastes no time in sinking between your folds, licking a broad stripe right up the centre of you. At the first stroke, your head falls back, your arms wobbling where they’re braced on the desk.

“Look at me,” Fin growls. “Only me.”

His voice of pure High Lord power drags your eyes back to him. And thank the fucking Mother it does.

You see everything in the way he feasts on you. His tongue laps at your wetness, and it coats his lips, his chin, coats him in you. The damp heat of his tongue is liquid fire. It promises to scorch you, end you, and rise you anew like a phoenix from the ashes.

Your fingers sink into the strands of Fin’s hair and tug. Judging by the noise he makes, the way his pace picks up, you think he likes it.

He utterly fucking devours you, like he’s fought a centuries-long wait to do so. And whatever magic commands his mouth — you know you cannot possibly last against it.

“Oh, gods,” your moan breaks from you, hips bucking up. You think your voice might be loud, but you don’t care. “Fuck—Fin.”

It all happens at once — his name falling from your lips, the growl rumbling in his throat, the flicking of his tongue against your clit and the finger he plunges into you, curls inside you. Every part of it is lightning strikes to your veins, and you come apart, utterly break.

Your climax slams into you and steals your breath. You’re nothing but a gasping, panting, trembling shell. Your mind is somewhere else entirely.

With your head falling back, eyes pinned to the ceiling, chest heaving, you don’t catch the swiftness with which Fin stands, licking your wetness from his lips. With which his clothes are gone in a blink of an eye.

But then he commands, “Look at me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. Your head lolls forward once more.

You swallow the breaths you’re still trying to get down. Try to stop your body fucking shaking.

But it’s no wonder it does, as you look at him.

Your High Lord is nothing short of exquisite. He is art. Your fantasies have done him no justice.

That golden skin of his seems to attract the glowing light of the room. It bathes him, but it does not steal the attention. It outlines every fine plane of his body, the sculpted muscles on show, the nicks of injuries that have scarred and silvered over time.

There is not a single part of him that isn’t pure, refined power. And when your gaze drops to below his waist…a shudder wracks through you.

His cock stands hard and leaking at the head. You watch, your mouth watering, as he wraps a hand around its length and gives a long stroke.

“Fin—”

“When you look at me like that,” he prowls closer, “there is no way I can consider this forbidden.”

He’s within reach. Your fingers inch towards him. You want to touch him, taste him—

But he curls a hand around yours and stops you in your tracks.

“Not tonight,” he says. Pure promise is laced within the words. “No playing tonight.”

As if he hadn’t just played with you. You want to protest, to get your fucking mouth around that considerable length, but his hand tightens around yours.

And then he’s flipping you over, so fast that you don’t have time to even register it. You land on your front, your belly and breasts pressed against the desk. Fin lays his palm against your back and drags it slowly down. And in the wake of his touch, he leaves kisses. Kisses to your shoulder, your back. They’re…soft. Tender.

“Have I disappointed you?” he murmurs against your shoulder, folding his body over yours. You don’t think it’s an accident that the head of his cock nudges that sweet area between your legs.

It’s all you can do to breathe, “I wanted to taste you.”

“And you will,” he drops the brush of a kiss to your skin. “But now is not time for that.”

You don’t need him to tell you what now is the time for. Not as his hands find the flesh of your hips, and he yanks you to the very edge of the desk, moving with you. The feel of him so close to where you want him is downright cruel.

“Have you thought about me fucking you?” he asks, those hands travelling to rove your ass.

Your nails bite into the desk as you answer, “Yes.”

“Did I make you scream?”

You bite down on your lip at the feeling of him spreading you apart, opening you up to him. “Yes.”

You feel it — his cock sliding between your folds. Not pushing in, but dragging torturously against your sex. From your entrance, up to your clit. The head of his cock pushes against it.

And the moan that rips from you is downright filth, as he rolls his hips and allows your wetness to slicken his length. It feels so fucking good. To you, and to him.

A breath shudders out of him, and he purrs, “Are you going to scream for me now?”

“Fuck yes,” the words tumble from your lips. “I want you, Fin.”

Just like that, his restraint snaps. The High Lord strikes.

He drags his length through your folds and enters you with a single, powerful thrust.

A shout leaves you, and you’re clawing at the desk, trying to keep your grip against the pleasure that courses through you. Fin fills you and stretches you. He pulls out and slams back in to the hilt.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls, his hands sinking back into your hips. He begins a steady thrusting, sliding in and out of you with a drag that makes you feel every glorious inch of him. “Gods.”

“So good,” you pant. “Want you harder.”

The plea seems to make him groan, and he wastes no time in picking up the pace. His hands bite into your skin as he fucks you faster, harder, your moans and pleas and curses falling from your lips without any nudging from you. The pleasure is all-consuming. In seconds, it’s buried within your veins.

“You like that?” The grit in his voice has you clenching around him. He’s so fucking filthy, so fucking sultry, as he snarls, “you going to be a good girl and come for me?”

Gods, yes, you are. Already, release is coiling tightly within you, and it’s a force entirely of its own right, inching closer and cresting the hill, ready to sink its claws into you. Fin’s cock hits deep, and out of nowhere, his palm is flying through the air and making contact with your ass cheek. That is all it takes.

The pleasure of it all is too much — the sting of the slap, the depth and thrall of his thrusts, the way he growls and grunts as he lays claim to your body, your pleasure.

You cry out, your orgasm blasting through you with unstoppable force. The long strokes of Fin’s cock fuck you through it, through earth-shattering pleasure, through what feels like a mind-altering experience.

“My filthy girl,” he pulls out of you suddenly, and though your cunt still clenches and twitches, desperate for more, more, more, he flips your trembling body onto its back once more and tugs you up, slipping back between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how relentlessly I’ve thought about making you scream for me like that.”

Past words, you can only reach up and pull his head down to yours to capture him in a kiss. Your taste still coats the tongue that he slides between your lips. It spurs you on to deepen it, luxuriate in the feel of it. And you become so lost in it that you tug hard at the strands of his hair when he enters you again in one great, sweeping thrust.

His arm folds around your back, hand grasping at your shoulder, and it seems to afford him perfect purchase to pound into you. Sounds fill the air of his skin slapping against yours, of the breaths and moans you huff into each other’s mouths. You think the two of you, together, might be loud enough, forceful enough, to bring the City of Starlight to rubble around you.

Fin’s lips tear away from yours, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts are growing quicker, sloppier, reaching a feverous pinnacle that will surely break.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come, Y/N,” his sweat-slick brow presses against your neck. “Taking me so well like this. Squeezing me like this. You’re going to make me fucking blow.”

You want that — more than anything. To feel the power of him spilling into you.

You squeeze your thighs against his, dragging your free hand — the one not sunken in his hair — down the muscles of his shoulders, his back, his waist — to his ass, where you dig your nails into the tight, toned flesh and encourage him to pump into you harder, faster. The feel of it makes Fin shout.

“Come for me,” you choke around your pleasure. “Please, Fin…want you to come.”

An animalistic growl rips from him, and he slams into you one, two, three more times, and then stills, throwing his head back with a roar that shakes the library. Hot, thick ropes of his seed seem endless as they’re unleashed inside you.

The force of it shatters you both, you think. With his trembling as thorough as yours, your nails are still raking over his skin as his brow presses to the crook of your neck. Strands of hair stick to the back of his. Your fingertips smooth over them tenderly.

It feels like eons that you stay there like that, holding each other up from collapsing under the weight of your mutual release. You want to hold him like this, always. You don’t care what others may have to say about it, what they may deem to be wrong about it. You want him.

He pulls back, as though sensing the thought. Meets your eyes. For a beat or two, he simply studies your face, something like clarity on his own.

And then he dips down and drops a kiss to your brow. Such a tender act, in the wake of such passion.

No words are needed. Not as he scoops you up into his arms, leaving behind the mess the two of you have created. There’s a flash, and he’s winnowed you to your bedroom. A fire roars to life immediately. Fin places you down on the bed.

You watch through hooded eyes as he makes his way into the bathroom. Moments later, he’s returning with a warm, damp washcloth, and he perches beside you.

“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, and you do.

The High Lord of the Night Court is gentle as air as he takes care of you, wiping between your thighs and delivering soft, soothing strokes to your skin. A pleasant soreness sits in your lower belly. He leans down and presses a kiss there like he knows just that.

And then he’s sitting up, and it frightens you — the thought of him walking away, of this ending here and now.

So you lay a hand on his arm, breathing, “Stay with me.”

He pauses, eyes roaming your face like he’s assuring himself you mean it. And then he dips his chin.

“I would be honoured,” he rasps.

And thus, the affair begins.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The need you and Fin have for each other is…insatiable.

Every moment he’s away, you’re thinking of him, longing for the moment he’ll appear in your room and rip your clothes off. If anyone else in the palace — staff, servants, associates — are aware of what’s going on, they don’t give it away. And that suits you just fine.

You can’t get enough. You’re giddy with it. Giddy from the multiple, interesting circumstances you’ve landed yourself in.

Like when you lured him out of a meeting and dropped to your knees in a fucking broom closet, taking his cock into your mouth until he was canting his hips forward and spilling down your throat. Or when he fucked you on the balcony of his personal quarters, your body pressed up against the balustrade, the two of you open to the elements and your moans loud enough to reach the stars above you and the city below you. Or when he took you to watch the ballet, and up in the cushy surrounds of your private viewing box, you watched the performance with him deep inside you, his fingers indolently playing with your clit, his low voice in your ear reminding you to keep quiet.

It’s…exciting. Enthralling. It changes everything.

And as he pulls out of you now, sweaty and panting, and collapses beside you in his bed, you’re not sure you could ever tire of this feeling.

He wants you. He wants you so ferociously, like nobody has ever wanted you before.

As you catch your breaths, he props his head up with his hand and stares at you through hooded eyes, glazed with lust. He leans down and grazes a kiss to your mouth.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” he ponders as he pulls back, moving a hand to brush his fingers over your breast. “All this need — wanting you constantly.”

You lean up on your elbows, tilting your head, “Do you want it to stop?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Never.”

Never. Never is a very long time. It makes your stomach flip — the enormity of it.

Fin circles the tip of his forefinger around your pebbled nipple, watching with predatory fascination as he adds, “But this will, inevitably, blow up in our faces at some point. We haven’t exactly been secretive — not that I want to be. But people will talk.”

You lean up to brush your mouth over his. “Let them talk,” you say, and kiss him.

Immediately, he melts into the kiss. Your mouth seems to have an effect on him that you never thought yourself capable of. Always draws a long, pleasured sigh from him as he sinks into it, welcomes it.

He kisses you and kisses you, so greedily, so desperately. His hand snakes up to cup your cheek. He’s already hardening against your leg.

But he pulls away, dropping his forehead against yours. And he breathes, “Make a bargain with me.”

You trace a thumb over his bottom lip. You’ve never made a Night Court bargain before; never had reason to. “What bargain?”

“When this blows up in our faces,” he grips your hand, folding his own over it, “we face it together. You and I.”

“You and I?”

“You and I” he kisses your hand. “I don’t claim to be perfect. I don’t try to be. I can be brutal and callous, and I can lie and play games,” another kiss. “But not with you. Never with you. I will look after you. Take care of you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

Words that you’ve always longed for someone to say to you. Words that should not be taken lightly, should not be said without meaning.

But you know he means them. You can tell he does.

You watch closely as your fingers interlace with his. And you whisper, “Together?”

Fin’s thumb sweeps over yours. “Together. We’ll face it together.”

“Then it’s a bargain.”

A flash of splintering pain zips around your midriff. You glance down to find the tattoo now inked there. The black line that draws a perfect circle around your waist, like a trail of night-kissed lightning.

You look up at Fin to find a roguish smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, I like that,” he hums.

And then he’s leaning down and pressing kisses to that circlet signifying your promise to one another. Kisses the entirety of it, flipping you on your front in the process.

And kisses lower, until you’re screaming for him again.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

#practice on me #pom #daddy fin #acourtofwhatthefuck #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar au #azriel #acotar fic #rhysand’s father #high lord of the night court #high lord #acotar x reader #fin x reader

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wingedhallows · 3 months

Text

"i'm older than you think." ; sirius black

pairing: sirius x reader | 1k words plot: Sirius is taken aback that you're actually older than you look. prompt: "I'm older than you think." authors note: just a little something that came to me some nights ago.

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The Black’s family home was lively, more than what you expected. Two redheads rushed past you as you brought a hand through your hair. The strong wind had messed with it.

“Get back here you two!” a woman, also with red hair, yelled after them.

“Oh, hello, dear.” she spoke, her voice gentler.”Hello.” You answered. “Y/N, there you are.” Tonks' voice came from behind the red headed woman. A small smile spread on your face as your friend approached. “For a moment I thought you wouldn’t come, come on.”

She engulfed you in a hug and rubbed your back in a comforting manner. With an iron grip, she dragged you into the kitchen. “I didn’t know we would have another guest, here, let me fetch another set for you.” The woman chuckled as she pushed past you two. “No need-”Don’t try, that’s Molly Weasly, just eat.” Tonks laughed as she pulled you through the door.

Around the big kitchen table sat a few more red heads, some teenagers and adults.

“Everyone, this is Y/N L/N. She’s one of the greatest Aurors I know and hopefully, after tonight, a member of the Order.” Tonks announced, a comforting hand on your shoulder as she pushed you towards the table. A man, curly hair framing his handsome bearded face and a sly smile beaming towards you, held his hand out for you to take.

"Sirius Black, the owner of this lovely house. I’m glad a more beautiful person is joining us. Nice to meet you, love.” He spoke before he kissed your hand with a grin on his face. A certain heat crept onto your cheeks as you shot him a grin yourself.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Black. This house is indeed very lovely, so bright and colorful.” You chuckled. His eyebrows shot up and a laugh escaped his mouth.

“And she’s got humor, merlin.”

“Holy, get a room.” Tonks spat with widened eyes. She grabbed your arm and pushed you down onto a chair. “Here you go.” Molly grabbed your shoulder and placed a bowl of food in front of you. Without another word of refusal you ate what Molly had given you. You didn’t miss the many times Sirius had glanced your way.

After the meeting and your agreement to join the Order and help Harry Potter, Sirius’ godson, to help defeat Lord Voldemort, Remus Lupin had asked for another drink and you agreed to stay. Harry and his friends had gone upstairs an hour ago claiming to go to bed, though you believed otherwise. Sirius had seated himself across from you.

“So, you’re an Auror?” with a sip from your cup you nodded. “I became one right after graduation, I’ve been one ever since.” You shot him a smile and reached for your pack of cigarettes.

With a small smile on your face you held out the pack for him. “Want one?” he shot you a smile and nodded his head. “I’d love one.” you chuckled. After lighting your stick you leaned over the table to light his. His eyes widened as you came closer as expected.

“As an Auror, you must be in grave danger.” He spoke. It was only you two, the others were immersed in their own conversations.

“It’s always dangerous, feels nearer than it did last time though.” His eyebrows furrowed and he chuckled as he blew some more smoke from his lips. You did the same. “Last time?” you nodded and took another sip from your cup.

“The first war?” You tried, he didn’t get it though.

“What would you know of the first war? You’re barely an adult, we all know Tonks’ hardly one.” He stomped out his cigarette and without a warning a laugh escaped you. “Oh, merlin.” You heaved, wiping the non existing tears.

“What’s so funny?” he spoke, a unsure smirk on his face. “Mr. Black-” you had to laugh again. “This is truly hilarious.” you paused

“I’m older than you think.” you took a sip from your cup and a big smile spread on your face once again.

“What?” he managed to say, the cup of firewhiskey in front of him long forgotten. You lit yourself another cigarette and gave him a smile.

“We went to Hogwarts around the same time, I think.” you paused and his eyebrows furrowed once again. “You were a fourth or fifth year. I mean who could ever forget the great and mighty Marauders?” His mouth had opened in disbelief.

“I’m almost ten years older than your cousin.” you whispered.

“So-”Yes, I’m almost as old as you, so.” He shook his head and stood from the table. With his cup in hand he made his way next to you.

“Well, forgive me, darling. You look hardly a day over twenty.” You had to laugh again and shook your head.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Black.” he clasped your hand in his and gave you another smile. “Please call me Sirius, love.” you nodded and took another sip of your drink.

“And since the Firewhiskey is slowly loosening my tongue, I believe that I do not feel ashamed to say that I'm slowly starting to fancy you, Y/N.” you stopped yourself from laughing and nodded at him.

“I’m afraid, me too.” A wide smile spread on his face as he came close.

“Good, then I get to do this.” with a hand on your cheek he came closer. His warm lips connected with yours and with almost rehearsed movements you kissed. Your hand found the back of his head, the other sat on his neck.

“Ew, you two.” Tonks spat and Remus had to laugh at the sight of you two.

“Definitely hardly an adult.” Sirius chuckled.

You two were out of breath as you rested your head in the crook of his neck with a grin on your face.

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year

Text

Give you the world

Joel Miller x reader

summary: You love Joel more than you can explain, you just can’t figure out if he feels the same

warnings: age gap, angst ig

my last joel fic

a/n: could be read as a part two of my last Joel fic but it can be read as a stand alone

You haven’t seen Joel truly happy in a while, the closest it’s come to is now. You’re standing with Ellie when Joel runs up to his brother, Tommy, who you’ve heard little about. You swear you hear him sniffling as he walks back to you.

The gates of Jackson are unbelievable. It’s somehow so incredibly warm despite the thick layer of snow below your feet. Everyone is beyond inviting and kind, it reminds you of before the outbreak.

“It’s amazing here,” you tell Tommy and Maria as you, Joel, and Ellie eat the plates of food in front of you.

“I’m glad you all like it,” Maria responds, smiling,

“It’s safe here,” Joel mumbles while leaning over his plate.

You can tell he’s thinking about something, whether it’s a good thing or not, you don’t know.

Maria leads you and Ellie to your home for the next day? week? month? You’re still not sure how long you’ll spend here. You secretly hope it’s a long time but you can tell it won’t last.

Since you’ve arrived you haven’t seen Joel in at least three hours.

“Hey, El, do you know where Joel is?” you ask the girl, slightly concerned.

“No, are you going out looking for him?” she asks.

“Probably, don’t know where I should start though,” You respond.

Something drew you to the carpenter's shed when you were searching for Joel. You peer into the window and as you suspected you saw him sitting there. Toying with new boots you assumed Tommy had given him. As you open the door Joel didn’t look up like you had expected.

“Joel,” You say quietly.

“Joel,” you say again, this time tapping his shoulder and using a firmer voice.

He slightly jolted back like he was shocked.

“Oh, hey,” he said reluctantly.

“Is something the matter? You seem upset,” You ask worried.

“How’d you like it if you stayed here for a while?”

“This sounds like a trick,” you tell him.

“I’ve asked Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way. I’m gonna leave too, and you’re gonna stay here,” He said, his eyes not meeting yours.

“What?” you say, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

“And what makes you think you can just decide that for us?”

“It’s the best option for you and Ellie,” he said.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Like hell it is! Joel, you are the only person I trust right now, and as far as I'm concerned you are the only person who can take care of me. You promised me you’d protect me, you fucking promised!” You’re both standing now, in a fit of rage you start lightly hitting his chest with your fists.

“Hey, hey I know what I said. You can call me a liar all you want. Just please, stay here. Where you’re safe. This is how i’m protecting you,” He says, you don’t miss the way his voice breaks.

“Joel, don't do this! I’ll never fucking forgive you. I’m gonna hate you if you do this,” You sob into his chest as he holds your clenched hands.

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry. I just- I just can’t take care of you. I’m worthless to you now,” At this point his eyes are threatening tears too.

“You can’t! You can’t leave me too. No, no, no, I won't let you.”

“Doll, you have to trust me. I’d give up everything for you if I could. But you’re young, you have so much more life to live. If I take you with me I'm endangering that. And I'd rather die than see you hurt,” he admits as he picks up his boots and leaves you to settle with your own pain.

Ellie had told you about her own fight with Joel only a few hours after your own. Part of you still can’t believe he would just let go of the two of you so easily.

You’re walking beside Ellie and Tommy to the stables. You’re still processing the fact that this is “the end.”

“So what? This is it? Everything we did all for just this,” Ellie asks you.

“Maybe not,” you nod towards Joel who’s standing by one of the horses.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” You ask Joel, walking up to him.

“Look, I still think you’d be safer here and Ellie would be better off with Tommy. But you both deserve a choice. You can-” Joel gets cut off by Ellie throwing her bag at him.

“Let’s just go already,” she tells the both of you.

“You have every right to hate me, doll. I don’t blame you if you want to stay here now. But I need you to know how much you mean to me, okay?” Joel says, his hands cup your face.

You sure as hell don’t miss the way his eyes finally meet yours.

#joel miller x you #joel miller angst #pedro pascal #joel the last of us x reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #TLOU #tlou x reader

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leossmoonn · 5 months

Note

can you please do a fluff piece where Mike realizes he’s falling in love with the reader? maybe he’s scared at first and doesn’t know how to express himself to the reader (established relationship)? I feel like “labyrinth” by Taylor Swift would best describe what I have in mind! thanks for writing, love your work :)

thank you so much! this was so fun to write. i hope i was able to capture your idea!

————

the first thing mike notices about you is how gentle you are. you aren’t always kind, and you get heated quickly. sometimes you say things you don’t mean or your exhaustion catches up with you, but the way you care and love is gentle.

he sees it in the way you cook dinner for him and abby and bring it all the way from your apartment. he hears it in the way you compliment and gush over him every day. he hears it when you assure him that he’s not a burden and his worries are valid. you show it in the way you massage his shoulders after a hard day of work. you show it in the way you kiss him awake in the mornings you stay over.

mike’s never been in a relationship like this. he can’t confidently say he’s ever been in a relationship period. women aren’t exactly lined up at his door. but when he met you, something just felt different. it truly felt like his whole world flipped upside down.

he’s never had an abundance of affection in his life. not since his brother disappeared. it was almost uncomfortable for him at first. accepting your quick pecks, long hugs, and sweet words was hard for him. he grew to appreciate everything you said and did for him, though. he realized that this is what he’s been missing in his life. your affection is what he’s been craving ever since he was a child.

but knows he can’t give you it back. or more so, he doesn’t know how to. he has all these feelings for you: joy, excitement, intimacy, passion, gratitude, and trust. yet, he doesn’t know how to display them. every word he says comes out in a rush and mumbles. he stutters as he tries to compliment you, his tongue suddenly feeling numb. he’s even afraid to instigate anything having to do with holding you, afraid he’ll somehow break you because you’re so perfect and he’s tainted.

the day he realizes he’s falling in love with you is on a sunday morning. the rain is pouring so hard it wakes mike up. he reaches out to you, only to grip empty sheets. he gets up, putting a pair of sweats on and sees you and abby in the kitchen. you’re coloring with her while sipping some coffee. there are a stack of waffles by you with a glass of orange juice for abby. mike can’t help but smile. if he had a camera, he would take a picture and frame this moment.

“good morning, sleepy head.” you greet him. you get up from your seat, walking over to him and hugging him. “how’d you sleep?”

“good,” he says. he instantly relaxes as you touch him. he leans into your warmth. “did you?”

“i always do when i sleep with you,” you smile. he blushes and smiles bashfully. “i’m glad.”

“i made some breakfast if you’d like some. i made it more for you and i, but abby ate some as well.”

he loves the way you take care of abby like she’s your own. you two got along from the start, which really eased mike’s mind. abby’s a tough cookie to crack, but it doesn’t seem like she’s invincible when it comes to you.

you kiss him on the lips. this kiss is soft and fleeting, but you press into him to make sure he knows it means something. he loves how different your kisses can be.

in front of abby, you kiss him chastely. there’s no need to stick your tongue in his mouth while his baby sister is there. but behind closed doors, you kiss him like you’ve been waiting to for eternity. it’s relieving because that’s how he kisses you, too. those types of kisses are often messy and wet. they usually lead to clothes being strung across the room and grabby hands. when mike’s had a bad day or isn’t feeling well, you kiss him on the forehead. whenever you stay over, you never fail to kiss his cheek before falling asleep in his arms.

“thank you,” mike says. “it smells delicious.”

you two sit down at the table, watching abby color. “is that me?” you ask. “yep,” abby nods. “and is that mike?” you point to a male stick figure.

“no, that’s one of my friends from school. this is mike.” she points to a stick figure with horns on it. you can’t help but laugh.

and god, he loves your laugh. although abby basically called mike the devil, he can’t help but smile. this laugh is your true laugh. it’s loud and drawn out, usually ending with a big sigh. you claim to hate it because you tell him you sound like a clown nose, but he enjoys it.

after eating, you convince abby to shower. now it’s just you and mike. you both get ready for the day, mike getting ready at the speed of light. you’re still picking out your outfit, even though you’re not even sure you will go anywhere important today.

mike just sits and admires you, telling you that everything you put on looks good on you. he knows you hate that answer, but he truly believes it. he loves the way you roll your eyes and start to get whiny after he says that. he loves the way you try so hard to look good, even though you could literally be wearing a trash bag and he’d still find you beautiful. as you scurry through the bedroom, he can’t help but catch onto your perfume and body wash. he loves the way you smell. so clean and fresh, even if you’re sweaty and hot.

“we should go out somewhere,” you suggest. “it’s pouring rain outside,” he chuckles softly.

“we could go grab lunch or dinner. you can wear that new shirt vanessa got you for your birthday.”

“i’m not so sure i like it.”

“oh, stop,” you shake your head. “you look so handsome in that shirt. and plus, it’s like the only nice shirt you have — no offense. you should wear it out. i know i won’t be the only woman staring at you.”

mike’s ears feel hot and a big smile encompasses his face. he loves how confident you are in him. everybody he knows he’s not the worst looking guy, but he doesn’t think he’s someone you stop and stare at because you can’t believe your eyes. he hates his eye bags and his soulless resting face, as abby calls it. he knows he looks angry a lot, mostly because he kind of is. you don’t seem to mind, though, or even notice.

you always want to go out and show him off, telling him how handsome and cute he is. he can’t deny that it makes him feel good. he loves that. he loves everything you do for him. there’s no denying it. he just loves you.

mike twiddles with his fingers and looks down at his lap. the words just repeat in his head.

i’m in love with her. i’m in love with her. i’m in love with her.

he feels his throat constrict and his heart race. everything nasty he’s ever thought about himself rises to the surface. he can’t be in love with you. he doesn’t know what it’s like to love somebody that isn’t a family member, and even then, the way he shows his love to abby is unconventional. all mike knows is how to push people away and pick fights and be alone.

“babe, are you okay?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“hm? yeah,” he says, glancing at you.

“you sure? you looked like you were spacing out a little bit.”

“yeah,” he repeats. “i think abby’s done in the shower. i’m going to take one.”

“okay, sure,” you nod. “are you sure you don’t want to go anywhere?”

“um, ask abby. i don’t care,” he mumbles. he hastily grabs clean clothes and walks to the bathroom with his head down. you sigh loudly, racking your brain with what mike could be so upset about. maybe he had a bad dream and he just remembered, or something happened at work and he’s thinking about it?

either way, you feel as though it’s good to let him relax in the shower before pestering him about it. mike has a hard time coming to you with his problems. and not that you need to know every one or fix everything, but you just want him to be able to air it out so he can at least feel better.

most of the day is just you guys relaxing in the house. abby asks if she can go over to a friend’s house because her house is just so boring. you and mike take her and after you drop her off, you both run to the grocery store to pick up things for dinner.

“we should’ve gotten some dessert,” you say as you take the last bite on your plate.

“we can go back now,” mike says. “ah, it’s okay. maybe next time,” you smile.

he nods and picks up your plates, starting to wash them. you turn to face him, looking over him. you can tell his muscles are tense under his shirt. his jaw is clenched, which means he’s thinking about something that’s making him nervous. you can’t stand seeing him look sad anymore.

“hey, baby,” you say softly. you place a hand between his shoulder blades, gently rubbing his back. “you don’t have to do the dishes. we don’t have to be that productive.”

“i know. we aren’t doing much anyways. thought i’d do them before they pile up.”

you smile and peck his cheek. “you’re the perfect man, michael schmidt.”

he sighs and shakes his head. “i’m not.”

“of course you are. why would you think that?”

“because i…” his words falter and now you start to get nervous.

“mike, it’s okay. you can talk to me.”

“it’s stupid and… and just doesn’t make me the kind of guy you think i am.”

you sigh, your breath sounding shaky. “the only way you could not be is… is you killed someone or cheated on me.”

his eyes widen and he shakes his head. “oh my god. no. i haven’t killed anybody, and i would never cheat on you. you don’t understand how lucky i am to have you. and that i… i couldn’t ever think about cheating on you. no matter what state of mind i am in or if you hurt me first. you… you just… you’re everything to me.”

your heart swells and take his hand into yours, forgetting it’s wet from doing the dishes. you both share a small laugh and he dries his hands quickly.

“you’re everything to me, too, mike. and i want you to know that you can talk to me about whatever. i’m not trying to be a fixer, but i want you to know that i can be that person you vent to. i want to be that person. i want to carry your baggage. i want to share your scars. so, you don’t have to tell me what’s been on your mind now, or ever, but just for the future, know that i am here for you.”

he didn’t think he could fall any deeper for you until now.

“i know. i’m afraid i won’t be able to be there for you, though.”

“oh,” you say. “well, that’s okay. we all have times in our lives where —”

“i… i don’t mean emotionally. i mean, i do, but … it’s not easy for me to do what you do.”

you raise a brow. “and what do i do?”

“the way you…” he sighs, feeling so stupid. why can’t he just grow up? he’s not a teenager anymore learning about emotional intelligence.

“mike, go ahead,” you say.

“i… i’m falling in love with you,” he rushes out to where it sounds like i’mfallinginlovewithyou. you can’t help but let your jaw drop. “and i’m afraid that i won’t be able to show it like how you do. you’re so good at it. you’re so good at showing how much you care for me. i’m not the same. i want to be, but i don’t know how to. I’m afraid that you’ll realize that and… and leave me. which i would understand. it’s hard to give and not receive.”

you’re silent for a moment. mike searches your face, feeling like he can’t breathe. your face breaks out in a smile.

little does mike know, he does know how to show he loves and cares for you. you can see it when he reaches for you in his sleep, his hand searching for you even when he’s unconscious. he pulls you in, placing his hand on the small of your back without fail every time. you see it in the way he listens intently to your problems, never trying to provide a solution, only listening because he knows that’s what you need. he shows his love for you by holding your hand or waist in public, always keeping close to you and looking out for anybody threatening.

mike may think all these things he does are small, but you think it equates to what you do, if not more. he may not show it outwardly like you do, but it doesn’t make it any less important or more able.

“mike.” you move closer to him, brining a hand to cup his cheek. “you have no idea how you show your love to me. it doesn’t need to be over the top. the way i show my love for you isn’t over the top. i just think you’re not used to have someone love you, so you think everything i do is special.”

“it is, though,” he insists. “well, i think what you do is special, mike. you don’t need to ever be afraid of me not thinking you don’t love me. cause i know,” you say.

he breathes out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “good. i’m glad.”

“why don’t we go and get some dessert,” you suggest. he nods, “anything you want.” he moves to grab his shoes and coat.

“and mike,” you say, stopping him. he looks up at you, his big brown eyes staring into yours. “in case you couldn’t tell, i’m in love with you, too.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 days

Note

Could I request Argenti, Sunday, Sampo, and Gepard finding out their s/o made different plushies of them to cuddle?

Gepard;

This poor guy is blushing to the high heavens upon meeting his plush counterpart that bore a cute yet stoic expression.

The lil guy was no bigger than your hand.

‘There isn’t more of them is there?’ He’d ask and you smiled as you then proceeded to show him the countless others that you’ve made in your spare time.

The poor man was even more flustered than before if that was even possible to begin with. I mean you even made one where he’s holding a cute -but dead- potted plant while pouting!

Despite how flustered he may seem upon seeing himself in cute plushy form, he was really impressed with how good they came out and found the attention to detail you had amazing because it meant everything he’s ever told you was incorporated into each and every plush with love and affection.

‘I’m just curious, what made you want to make these plushies?’ He’d ask and when you told him it was to cuddle something while he was away doing his job.

He feels guilty for not spending as much time as he’d like with you because he throughly enjoys being with you and becomes visibly upset when is needed elsewhere, but he’s never been one to not uphold duty. ‘I’ll do better next time.’ He’d tell you.

You put your hands on his shoulders. ‘You already are doing better Gepard, I know how important this job is for you and I’m not going to ask you to choose between me or your job, that’s cruel of me as your partner to make you chose between two things you love with all your heart.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling it grow warm under your lips.

‘But-‘

‘But nothing.’ You cut him off. ‘I’ll always be here waiting for you and bedsides,’ you lifted the plush!Gepard, smiling when you saw the blonde blush. ‘I’ll always have you close by in plush form to love on and cuddle with.’ You added cheekily as Gepard held you close and burrowed his face into your neck, cuasing you to laugh at his cuteness.

Argenti:

Is utterly in love with us plush counterpart and appraise your attention to detail made to the plush also, from his pretty eyes, cherry red hair and so forth.

Asks you if there’s more plushies that you’ve made of him while kissing your hands in thanks for their creativity and skill.

You of course said yes.

‘You have a true talent here my beloved flower,’ Argenti praises as he holds the plush of him gently in his hands. ‘This is truly magnificent.’

Your flustered at this point from all of his genuine and sincere comments. ‘Oh they aren’t that great-‘

Argenti then looks at you with wide eyes. ‘Aren’t that great? My beloved rose, your plushies are beyond great! They are beautiful in their own right.’ The cherry haired knight says as he holds your face in his hands. ‘So please don’t doubt your capabilities when they are only just beginning to shine.’

Probably Alamo cried when you tell him the reason you made plush!Argenti was so you could still have something that reminds you of him to keep you company while he was away.

Sunday:

Finds it amusing and adorable as he watched you cuddle against the plush version of himself as though your life depended on it.

‘These are truly impressive my dear.’ He’d say as he looks upon the other plushies of him that you’ve made this far, all dressed in different attires and bore different expressions with deep interest before looking back at you. ‘Is there a reason behind them all? Revisiting an old habit perhaps in crocheting?’ He adds.

‘No, not really, I just wanted to make a plush that I could cuddle with when you’re away.’ You admitted truthfully and Sunday felt his heart melt at your sweet confession as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

‘I apologise for making you miss me and I apologise for the lack of time between us but I’m glad you found a way to compensate for my absence.’ Sunday says as he boops plush Sunday on the nose. ‘Though now I’m here, I’m sure our plush friend here can be relived from his duties for the night?’ He then adds and you blink at him.

Was he…was Sunday jealous of his plush counter part? How cute was that.

‘I’m sure he can take the night off.’ You obliged and set the plushie down on your desk and you joined Sunday in bed, cuddled up and quickly lulled by his bodily warmth into a comfortable sleep.

Sampo:

Can and will show off his little plush counter part to anyone and everyone within view and would listen to him for longer then five minutes.

But imagine his surprise when he finds out that you have other variations of him, his ego skyrockets to unfathomable heights!

‘You must be super in love with me to make a plush of me! How embarrassing!’ Sampo says.

‘Sampo we’ve been dating for a while now.’ You replied with a blank face.

Anyways Sampo loved the little plushies of him and would even take one with him when you weren’t looking to send you pictures of the adventures of plushie sampo through the entire day.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to get made at him for stealing your plushie because the pictures were too cute.

Hell you might even find him cuddle up to one of them if you were carful enough.

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suuuupernovaaa · 9 months

Text

When Hobie Brown finally tells you who he truly is, he does so reluctantly.

You’ve kind of backed him into a corner, but it’s not really your fault. After months of him disappearing, forgetting to answer texts, missing important dates, being absolutely exhausted for no real reason, you figure there’s only one explanation that makes sense.

Another woman.

When you confront him, you do it gently. There’s no yelling, no accusations, just a quiet question and two misty eyes as you look everywhere in the room except at your boyfriend.

This is going to crush you.

“Someone else?” Hobie asks, raising his voice, leaning across the kitchen table to reach out for you.

You lean away, and wait for him to speak again.

“I’d rather be shot dead. Have my toenails pulled off one by one. You are the only one,” he insists, and your lip begins to quiver.

“Then where do you go all the time, Hobie? You’re hiding something from me and if you can’t tell me what…”

Your voice begins to shake, so you close your mouth. Hobie’s face falls into his hands, and he lets out a frustrated groan.

When he looks back up at you, you’re using all your mental and emotional energy to keep the tears from falling.

“I’m…” he pauses for an unbearable length of time, staring at you with pleading eyes, but you stay silent. “I’m Spider-Punk.”

The words reach your ears, but your brain can barely process them.

Your Hobie Brown, is Spider-Punk? The vigilante, anarchist, famous, superhero?

“I’ve wanted to tell you but, love, no one knows. No one but me. My identity being a secret, it keeps me and anyone I love safe. I can prove it.”

You reach out, running your hand across the table towards him, and his hand eagerly rushes out to meet yours.

In truth, the news is shocking and also… not shocking. Hobie is many things, but he is not a liar. And you knew, deep down, he wasn’t a cheater either.

It makes sense, and being honest with yourself, you’re surprised you didn’t figure it out before. Hobie is Spider-Punk. Your Hobie. Your Spider-Punk.

You stand up and seat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You pull his face to your chest, his wicks brushing your cheeks. You breathe together, slowly in and out, and he holds you tightly.

“I’m really glad you’re not cheating on me.”

The sentence breaks the tension and you look down at your boyfriend. A wide smile is spread across is face, and yours.

“No one compares, love.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader

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pickmans-muse · 7 months

Note

Hiiii could I request a fic portraying the moment in which Alucard (after szn 3) realizes that he likes the reader, or how she finds out he likes her? Hihihihi

Hiiiiiiii back! I’m so glad you requested! Also, sorry I didn’t realize my asks weren’t open 😅 This is going to be more like headcanons crossed with a short drabble, hope that’s okay! (Reader will be Fem)

Alucard Liking You

This man thinks he’s smooth. He is not smooth. Not even a little bit. He’s very articulate, very intelligent—and the second you walk in, his composure evaporates into thin air. It’s hard to miss a blush on cheeks as pale as his, and even more than that, he stammers a little when he’s around you. He’ll forget what he’s saying, trail off, repeat words or phrases without realizing it—in short, he’s very obvious.

To be fair, it doesn’t start out like that. When he meets you, Alucard is probably just as cool and collected as he usually is. However, he starts to fall for you when he sees you in your element. Maybe you’re an artist, and he sees you painting, or maybe you’re a magician, and he sees you throwing spells that he’s never even heard of. Either way, the first step is when you fascinate him. He’ll pop up to watch you do what you love, or find excuses to do it with you.

The second step is when he develops a y/n-radar. He doesn’t realize it, but he knows where you are at any given moment—and if he doesn’t, for even a minute, he’ll drop what he’s doing to look for you. He’s like a puppy attuned to you, needing to know where you are and that you’re safe.

Along with that comes his increased awareness of you, particularly how you smell. As a dhampir, he can smell the individual odors of people—track them if they’re lost, that kind of thing—and he starts to become more aware of your scent. It makes him feel sleepy, safe, relaxed. That’s when he realizes he’s growing to be attracted to you, and that’s when the blushy stammering starts.

Like his father, Alucard clearly has a thing for women who take charge. When he sees you being in charge, when it really sinks in that you’re badass, he finds himself aroused. Which, naturally, makes the blushing worse around you.

Post season three, he’s surprised to find that your touch settles him, rather than scaring him. Usually, he’s touch averse after Sumi and Taka, but it’s different around you. He finds himself leaning against you, resting on your shoulder—feeling safe with you.

The moment you both know he truly likes you is when he falls asleep on your lap. When he wakes up, and your eyes meet, and he smiles this soft little smile while he blushes up at you.

When Alucard’s breaths even out, soft and deep, you realize he’s gone to sleep. In your lap, with his head pillowed on your thighs.

Amazed, you set down the book you’d been reading to him. He looks so peaceful like this—lips slightly parted, brow soft and unfurrowed. You know he’s had trouble sleeping since Sumi and Taka, that he’s struggled with nightmares and even sleep paralysis ever since.

You never expected this.

Vampires sleep deeply, and so does Alucard—when he manages to sleep at all. It leaves them more vulnerable than at any other time, since they’re difficult to rouse. For a vampire or dhampir to fall asleep with you is a sign of trust like no other.

You kiss his forehead gently, and let him sleep.

#alucard castlevania x reader #alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #castlevania x reader

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euseokz · 1 month

Text

@ eunseok — you should still only have eyes for me, not anyone else . . cws : cheating . toxic relationship (jealousy mentions) . semi-public sex . degradation . use of nicknames (whore, slut) . oral (f) . unprotected sex . cheerleader! reader . college! au . wc : 1.8k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i blame my 🐾 anon and ads ( @bbina ) for this . . . a bit different than my usual style i think but i do still really like this tbh !!

BASKETBALL PLAYER! EUNSEOK who, even if you broke up because he wanted to, still feels some sort of twisted sense of possessiveness over you.

it had been a few weeks already, and after your big fight that led to you separating you hadn’t shared anymore than annoyed glances with each other. you obviously couldn’t completely avoid him — you went to college in the same place, shared some classes, and worst of all you were a cheerleader while he was a basketball player, so at least during practice and games you were forced to be in the same space. at first the tension between you two was palpable, but now it had eased down a bit. people knew not to mention the other to either of you, and although no one truly knew why you broke up — the whole problem having been, ironically, eunseok’s jealousy issues — they knew it was bad.

you had moved on though, and you were glad that eunseok didn’t pester you anymore, that you didn’t think of him anymore… you were finally happy — until he decided to come back.

you had been going out with sungchan for a while, you met him shortly after breaking up with eunseok and you two just connected easily and fast, your relationship recent but probably already more sincere than the one you shared with eunseok for all those years. sungchan was nice, caring, loving, and best of all, didn’t flip if you ever even looked at another guy. he was everything eunseok tried but couldn’t be, and that was enough for you, what you needed in that moment if you did jump into a new relationship.

with all of that in mind, and with that thought process circling your brain in a loop, you wondered why you were in that exact second still listening to eunseok’s angry rambling.

“it was fucking distracting, no one was paying attention and our strategy went down the drain”

“so i can’t support my boyfriend now?”

“you’re dating him!? the new guy of all people? i thought you’d be better than that”

“and i thought even your jealousy had an end, but apparently not” you argued back, tired of eunseok’s rambling “i wasn’t distracting everyone, i was distracting you, and you played a shit game because you can’t bear the thought of me being with someone else even now!”

he finally seemed to shut up after that, his expression surprised, taking him a few seconds to mutter out a low “you don’t know what you’re talking about”, that somehow only proving your point even more.

you groaned eunseok’s name, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, annoyed you had even allowed yourself to be in that situation — arguing with your ex-boyfriend in an empty locker room, everybody else outside, ready to leave for the night. “let’s just leave it at this, i’m tired of your bullshit” and with that you started turning around, ready to also leave, before he spoke up again.

“does he fuck you better than i do? is that it?” eunseok asked, his cocky smile suddenly curling his lips upwards as you started to turn around, looking at him with a frown, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips ever so slightly parted in pure shock at his rapid turn of emotions.

“that’d be impossible, only i know your body well enough, only i can fuck as many orgasms out of you as i want”

“shut up eunseok, seriously. you’re crossing the li-”

“i bet he can’t even make you cum, that’s why you’re all pissed off with me”

you sighed, finally turning around to leave definitely before eunseok grabbed your wrist.

“i can make you remember what you’re missing, maybe that will make you finally open your eyes” he continued, a sly smirk still resting on his expression, his eyes glistening with lust as he looked you up and down.

“you’re insane”

“maybe, but you still haven’t left so how different from me can you truly be”

“i’m with sungchan now, move on” you said through your teeth, almost as a threat, finally pushing your wrist out of eunseok’s grip.

“being with someone else has never stopped anyone from finally having a good fuck”

“i’m not a cheater”

“no, you’re only looking somewhere else for what your goody-two-shoes boyfriend can’t give you”

you sighed once more, asking yourself for the nth time why you couldn’t just leave, why you were still there, why eunseok still had such an effect on you.

“just be honest with yourself, he can’t fuck you like i do, no one can”

“i never said that”

“but you also didn’t deny it”

eunseok took a step closer, suddenly all too close to you, his breath fanning against your face. “let me remind you of how good we can be together, angel” he whispered, only for you, eyes locking with yours as you bit your lip in indecision, the old nickname he used on you all throughout your relationship only affecting you even more.

you were sure you had moved on, so why was eunseok’s proposal so tempting? why did you feel so inclined to accept it? why did you kiss him back when his lips pressed against yours? why couldn’t you just leave? all questions you couldn’t answer, allowing him to push you into the nearest shower stall and lock the door behind you two, the space tight but enclosed enough, eunseok’s kisses fervent throughout the whole process.

“are you gonna let me fuck you? uh? gonna act like my little whore again?” he asked breathlessly, eyes focused on yours as he fiddled with the button on your jeans, undoing it and pushing the heavy fabric down, dropping it to your feet.

“we have to be quick” you reminded, just as out of breath, trying to repress your guilt by not doing anything to help eunseok, letting him handle everything, take off your clothes the way he wanted and twist you around whichever way he pleased — as if that made you any less blameworthy.

eunseok kneeled down, face near your crotch, breath fanning over your exposed cunt and making you inhale a deep breath. “i’ve missed her, you know? no one’s like her” he commented, talking about your pussy, completely taking off one of the legs of your pants so he could move you more freely, propping your leg over his shoulder so he could get a better angle. eunseok peeked his tongue out, lapping up your cunt in a quick swipe, feeling how you tasted and humming pleased against your folds, closing his eyes momentarily before looking up at you. “still tastes just as good as i remember”. you moaned softly, forcing yourself to keep your whines in when eunseok started properly flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud attentively, leaving you soaking wet, your hole clenching around nothing.

you had forgotten how good he made you feel, this a mere sample of the things he had done to you while you were still together. as much a you’d like to not have to admit it, he was better than sungchan, and you blamed that knowledge as the sole factor that allowed you to let him keep going, to let him suck and lick at your cunt so messily, dragging an orgasm out of you more easily than anyone ever had, all because he did know what buttons to push to make you come undone for him. that was eunseok’s problem, he knew you too well, he knew that didn’t matter how much you resented him you’d never be able to tell him no — even if you had convinced yourself you could — and things were the same for him, he’d never deny you anything, even after you had been broken up.

“i wanna fuck you properly” eunseok announced, your slick mixed with his saliva glistening on his lips and chin as he came up, leaning in for another kiss, hands cupping your cheeks and keeping you in place as he sucked on your bottom lip, tongue flicking over it and pushing into your mouth, pressing against yours.

and of course, you let him do whatever he wanted, even if you knew it was wrong, allowing yourself to be turned around so you’d face the wall and have your entire front pressed against the cold tile, your arms being held behind your back by eunseok’s hand as he pulled his hard cock out of his pants, his pink tip dripping with pre-cum. he pressed himself against you, wasting no time in pushing his entire length into you, both of you moaning in unison as he started fucking you as roughly and mercilessly as usual, pistoning his hips against yours, stretching you out better than anyone ever could, better than sungchan could. eunseok knew what angles to hit to make you see stars, what sweet spots you had, what felt the best for you. he was harsh, fucking you in a seemingly selfish manner, as if all he seeked was his own pleasure, but in reality he wanted to give you yours most of all, being rough but in a loving way almost.

“wonder if your boyfriend knows what a little slut you can be, letting me fuck you in a stall as if he isn’t probably waiting for you somewhere else”

“‘seok…” you moaned, squirming in his grip but not able to move away, only closing your eyes and immersing yourself more in the pleasure, letting him clasp one hand over your mouth and push your head back, making it easier for him to whisper into your ear his next words.

“you’re still my whore, you’ll always be, don’t you dare forget that”

and as he said that, you came, clenching around eunseok’s cock as a mix of arousal and guilt flooded you. you were still, deep down, his, and if it took him fucking you again for you to realize that, you wondered just what else you had managed to hide from yourself.

“such a good slut, cumming all over my cock… that’s it angel, always so good for me” eunseok said, his words tainted with both filth and praise, before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, his thrusts slowing down until he was completely pulling out, stroking his cock a few times before spilling his seed all over your ass — that apparently still being his favorite place to cum on — while groaning against your neck, resting his forehead against you for a second, both of you catching your breaths.

once you had finally collected yourselves, eunseok helped you get cleaned up and dressed, acting like he did back then, destroying you just so he could help put you back together again. just as you were about to leave, both of you still very clearly flustered but at least looking somewhat collected now, someone walked in, one look up making you stare at sungchan, his appearance frantic as his eyes drifted between both of you before finally stopping on your frame, going to you and holding your hands gently.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, did you two fight again?” he asked, voice sweet and worried.

“yeah, something like that” eunseok replied, giving your boyfriend a tap on the shoulder before leaving as if nothing had happened.

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turcott3 · 3 months

Text

homesick

trevor zegras and platonic jamie drysdale x fem! reader

warnings?: sad af tbh!, angst, cursing but ofc fluff

masterlist

“what?” you spoke into the phone.

“he picked up the phone and they told him he was going to philly in the morning. no warning or anything. completely blindsided.” trevor explains to you.

“i cannot believe that, is he okay?” you ask.

“he’s shocked, we all are.”

“i bet. i’m so sorry trevor.” you say trying to comfort your boyfriend.

“it’s okay, i just wish it wasn’t so sudden.”

“well, tell jamie i wish him the best and that ill miss making breakfast with him every morning.”

“you can call him, that feels too personal don’t wanna invade.” he forces a laugh.

“okay ill call him tomorrow. get back to your friends babe, try to have a good night okay?”

“okay i will, love you y/n.”

“love you trev, bye.”

“bye.” he hangs up. you sat staring off into space. your mind spinning uncontrollably. they just shipped off your boyfriends best friend. scratch that, your best friend, besides trevor of course. you turn on the tv to whatever was on distracting yourself from the thoughts invading your mind, clouding the good day you had. finally, you allow yourself to cry, knowing your last goodbye to jamie was truly your last and that he wouldn’t be returning.

“what the fuck.” you say crying more, wishing someone was around you could talk to. you say for hours lost in your thoughts, watching tv without paying any attention. at this point it was late enough so you took yourself to bed, heart heavy at the thought of having to call jamie in the morning. though falling asleep was easy, waking up was the worst feeling in the world. you picked up your phone quickly, scrolling through your contacts to find jamie’s name, hitting call. the phone only rang twice before he picked up.

“hello?” he says, voice sounding weak.

“hey jimmy, how are you feeling?”

“i’m okay, i’m in philly now. i’m getting ready to head to the rink. i’m a little nervous but i talked to cam and he reassured me.”

“good i’m glad, im gonna miss you so much jamie.”

“i miss you too y/n, gonna miss our early morning breakfast making.” he laughs softly, a bittersweet smile spreading on my face.

“yeah, yeah ill really miss that too. singing ‘unwritten’ will never be the same without you.”

“damn you’re right, listening to that song will never hit like it did when we were making pancakes every morning.”

“i’m gonna miss that so much, well i don’t wanna keep you for too long. call me if you need anything okay? i know this is gonna be tough.”

“i will, thank you y/n.”

“of course, bye jamie.”

“bye.” he says before hanging up. your heart sank at his tone but could sense his hopefullness that they wouldn’t give up on him like anaheim had.

you say on the couch, watching trevor play with a heavy heart. you could practically smell it through the tv. you’d spoken to him briefly but he avoided the topic of jamie, it was still a touchy subject for him. next thing you know, trevor falls, hitting the boards awkwardly.

“fuck.” you say, watching him unable to get up without assistance, your heart breaking all over again. the trainer escorted him to the locker room, the pit in your stomach growing larger.

“please be okay, please be okay.” you say sighing.

“trevor zegras will not return to tonight’s game.” you hear the commentators say, you sigh shutting your eyes, waiting for the phone to ring and almost on queue it begins.

“y/n?”

“trevor are you okay? what’s going on?”

“i don’t know i just fell and i did something and then i couldn’t skate off the ice and i-“

“trevor stop, slow down. take a breath honey. you’re gonna make yourself sick.” you say stopping him.

“i don’t know what to do y/n.”

“do you want me to come to nashville?”

“no no you don’t need to, i think i may just come back to anaheim if i can’t play next game.”

“call me as soon as you know.” you say biting your nails.

“i promise i will, ill call you once they evaluate me.”

“okay, love you trevor.”

“love you too, bye.” he says and you hang up, slamming your phone down on the couch tears instantly spilling from your eyes, your hands instantly covering your face.

“i can’t fucking do this.” you cry, trying to catch your breath as your phone begins to ring, jamie’s name coming into the screen.

“hello?” you say weakly.

“i saw what happened and i wanted to check up on you. how you holding up?”

“i’m a fucking mess jamie.” you say sobbing.

“oh y/n, i’m so sorry. i wish i could be there with you.” he says apologetically.

“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” you say out loud to yourself.

“do you have any updates?” he asks.

“no he said he would call me after he gets evaluated.” you say sniffling.

“okay, do you want me to stay on the phone until then? i can facetime you, that’s better than nothing.”

“yes, please do.” you say and he presses the facetime button, you picking up immediately.

“sorry i look awful right now,” you say wiping your nose.

“hey no, don’t worry. you’re going through a lot right now.”

you stayed on the phone with jamie for the next two hours, appreciating him spending time on the phone with you instead of getting to know his new city.

“jamie i gotta go. z is calling, i’ll text you with updates.”

“okay, goodnight y/n.”

“goodnight jamie.” you say hanging up and picking up trevor’s call.

“so?” you ask.

“can you pick me up from the airport in the morning?” he asks, your heart sinking into your stomach.

“yes i can.”

“thank you baby, i’m so sorry about all of this.”

“it’s okay. are you okay?”

“i’m not playing, won’t know what’s wrong until i come home and go see team doc.”

“okay okay, what time?” you ask.

“7 am, cali time.”

“jesus thats in,” you look at the time, “11 hours.”

“i’m sorry for the short notice, i didn’t think this would happen.”

“it’s okay no worries at all okay? i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“okay, i love you.” he says

“i love you too, bye trevor.” you say hanging up. texting jamie about picking him up in the morning. with the early wake up time, you take yourself to bed and crash instantly. the sadness had exhausted you. it seems like just as you went to sleep your alarm was already going off. you groaned at the sound, sliding your shoes on and heading out the door without caring for your appearance. feeling selfish for being this down when it’s not even happening to you. your drive to the airport was smooth, trevor texting you that he’d landed a few minutes ago as you pull into the airport arrival lane, him waiting patiently with his foot in a boot. you stop and get out of the car to hug him, crying instantly.

“hey hey i’m here now, let’s go home okay?” he says holding you tightly. you put his things in the car and drive off, back to your apartment. the car ride was completely silent as you gathered your composure. once you arrive you help him bring his stuff in and help him into bed.

“did you sleep?” you ask laying down next to him.

“no.” he says looking over at you, looking beat down.

“get some sleep baby.” you say pulling yourself to his side, combing your fingers through his hair.

“i can’t sleep y/n,” he said, his voice breaking, “god damnit.” he says breaking down in tears, your hands catching his face as he looked down.

“talk to me trevor, get it out.”

“well for starters, it was my 200th game and i didn’t even make it through the first period and my best friend got traded across the country all within 24 hours. life couldn’t possibly get any worse. this is the lowest i have ever felt.” he explained, getting everything off his chest.

“i know it’s hard honey, i’ve cried about 50 times in the last 24 hours. my heart is broken for you. all i can do is be here for you and listen and i feel like that’s still not even enough.”

“it is enough, it’s just a tough time right now. for both of us it seems.” he giggles, placing a hand around my waist.

“well i love you, i’m here for you baby. don’t hold back anything you’re feeling, not until you’re better. it sucks that jamie is gone but we still have each other! i know that’s not like the greatest but it’s something.”

“you know, you are the best girlfriend ever.” he smiles weakly, pulling you onto his lap and wiping the few tears that left your eyes.

“i just feel terrible about all of this.” you say to him.

“there’s nothing you could’ve done, it’s okay.” he says hugging you to his chest.

“this was not on my 2024 bingo card.” you sniffled, laughing lightly.

“it wasn’t on mine either but here we are.” he says hugging onto me tightly. you stayed on his chest until you felt yourself grow tired, eyes getting heavier by the second. not a word was said as you drifted off to sleep. trevor stayed awake, holding onto you as it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“i love you more than you’ll ever know.” he whispers into your hair, kissing your head sweetly as his hands rubbed your back gently.

when you woke up and rolled off of the boy who was fast asleep, trying not to wake him up. you grabbed your phone off the charger and walked into the kitchen, opening your phone to a missed call from jamie about 20 minutes ago. you click on the notification to call him back and he picks up instantly.

“hello?” he says.

“yes jamie hi, what’s up?”

“do you have a minute?”

“yeah i just got up, are you okay?”

“yeah i think it’s all starting to process now and i’m so emotional. like i just up and left my home with my two best friends. how can i just live like this so suddenly? i made breakfast and it wasn’t even good.” he explains, his voice wavering.

“oh jamie,” you say, “it’s gonna be okay. i promise it will be. they love you.”

“i’m sure ill get used to it soon it’s just such an unexpected change, i don’t know what i’m doing.” he says sending you through all of your emotions at once.

“i understand, even though we aren’t physically there we are always here for you jam. we love you so so much.”

“i love you guys too.”

“i’m also about to make breakfast for the first time without you, i don’t really know how to feel.” you laugh realizing what you had walked into the kitchen to do.

“well i’ll let you go so you can perfect your pancakes as always. bye y/n.”

“bye jam.” you say hanging up the phone and bringing out all the ingredients. you do your typical routine, humming ‘unwritten’, your favorite song. suddenly a wall of emotions hit you and tears begin to fall without warning.

“our breakfast song.” you say to yourself, recalling that you and jamie had sang this together every morning.

“smells good.” trevor says walking out of the room, your back fortunately facing away from him.

“thank you.” you force out, sounding mostly normal.

“pancakes?” he asks.

“yep.” you reply flipping the last one. you plate it and turn around, revealing your red and puffy face to your boyfriend.

“woah,” he says getting up off the bar stool and rounding the counter, “what’s going on?”

“trevor im so tired.” you cry and he wraps you in his arms.

“i know i know.” he says holding you tightly.

“i feel so empty, ive been here for you, for jamie, for everyone and no one has sat and listened to me. im so tired.” you cry even more into his chest.

“i didn’t know you felt that way, im so sorry if you felt like you couldn’t talk to me baby.”

“it’s okay, it’s a rough time for you i didn’t wanna push too hard but i can’t say i wasn’t upset.”

“don’t dismiss your own feelings just because i’m going through something. we’re in this together.” he says pulling away slightly, brushing strands of hair from your face.

“okay.” you say, your sobs finally subsiding.

“i love you.” he says kissing your gently on the forehead.

“i love you too trev.” you say smiling at the gesture, wrapping yourself back in his embrace.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #anaheim ducks #mason mctavish #turcs’ talk #turcs <3 #duck duo

234 notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 2 months

Text

You're a Brat, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You play with Joel at your 25 year high school reunion to get exactly what you want. CW: Dom!Joel, Sub/Dom, blowjob, throat fucking, gagging, nipple play, Brat!Tamer, unprotected p in v (they’re in a long-term relationship), oral (f and m receiving), anal play very briefly, pet names, cream pie kink, praise kink, degradation if you squint, denial and edging, NO AGE GAP (Joel and reader are in their 40’s) A/N: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the love that You're Mine and Stay Still have gotten. Truly, from the bottom of my cold, dead heart I really appreciate your likes, comments and reblogs. Hopefully you enjoy this one, as well. Dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 5.6k

Dress. Check.

Nude heels. Check.

2 daytime outfits. Check.

Drive home clothes. Check.

Make up bag. Check.

Stop worrying so much. You’re not even leaving the country, you can buy what you forgot.

“You ok?” Joel asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Just the usual pre-travel anxieties.” You say, leaning into his warmth. Your arms unconsciously cross over his, hands resting on his forearms.

“We’re not leaving the country, you can buy whatever you forgot,” you smile to yourself at how well he knows you as his lips press lightly to your temple. “Remember when I had to go out of town at the last minute before our Disneyland trip and you packed for all of us?”

“Mmhmmm,” you say. The memories come flooding in of those two little girls; one dressed as a princess from head to toe and the other refusing to take off her Darth Vader helmet. The latter was far braver on the “scary rides”, and held her sister's hand until they were both giggling and screaming with delight.

“You didn’t miss a single thing - for any of us. Including the nightlight that Sarah couldn’t be without and the granola bars that Ellie claimed were the only things she could have for breakfast.”

You turn your head and gently press your lips to his. This is the kind of love that people write about. Supportive. Caring. Complete and unwavering trust. Each person is 100% in for the other, willingly giving when the other needs to take, and never keeping score. You don’t judge the other for any sort of anxiety they might be having or help they might be needing. Partners. Through and through.

A noise from the kitchen brings you back and you break the kiss. “What is that incessant beeping?”

“That’s your phone,” he laughs while pulling out of the hug and squeezing your sides. “It’s been going off all morning. Someone is messaging you on Facebook.”

You squirm free of his wandering hands and go to brush your teeth. When you come back out to the kitchen he’s scrolling through the messages in your phone.

“Who is it?” You ask, getting your morning coffee ready.

Joel throws his head back, laughing loudly as he reads in a mocking voice, “Hi. Long time no talk. I saw your name on the guest list for the reunion this weekend. Can’t wait to catch up. Looks like you’re single. At least based on your profile. Glad to see you got rid of that goon you were dating in your 20s.”

Your profile is blank, a picture of you holding baby Ellie the day you officially adopted her is the only thing on there, and you have maybe 15 friends. Truthfully, you aren’t even sure why you have it, even in the heyday of Facebook, you weren’t exactly a share-everything-about-yourself-on-the-internet type of girl.

“Oh god,” you laugh. “It’s Zack, isn’t it?”

Joel wipes away a tear from laughing so hard. “Each sentence is its own message, but I’m a goon?” He slides your phone across the counter to you adding, “Can I punch him again when we see him?”

Years ago, while visiting your parents, Zack got a little too handsy when you ran into each other at a local pool hall. Joel was and very much still is, a ‘touch her and die’ type of lover.

You both laugh as you kiss him goodbye and head to work.

On your lunch break, you updated your profile picture to you and Joel with the girls at their high school graduation. Hopefully, Zack will get the message. By 5 pm you’re rushing home to get out the door and drive 5 hours to your old hometown.

The minute you walk into the reunion you see women’s heads turning to look at Joel. You can’t say you blame them, Joel Miller is the dictionary definition of a DILF! And tonight, in perfectly tailored black pants, a crisp black dress shirt and black tie, his slightly outgrown curls pushed back, and grey scruff perfectly trimmed, he looks hot as sin. And then, just to add insult to an already smoldering hot injury, he recently came to terms with needing glasses for driving at night. Those black frames should be illegal.

Over the last few days you’ve been sending him articles about spanking and on the drive up had an open and honest communication about what you both wanted out of it. Deep down you’re hoping tonight is your night, you’re tempted to just go back to the hotel and let him do whatever he wants. Instead, the two of you hit the bar to get a drink before finding a table to sit at.

“Who is that lady in the gold sequin dress with the black hair, almost directly behind you?” Joel asks awkwardly, sipping his whiskey.

You glance around the room, trying to not make it obvious when you catch the one person you don’t want around Joel staring right at him.

“Lucy Garfield.” You say flatly. “She’s the one that slept with Zack seconds after I left for university. I thought they were married but she is eye fucking you so hard.”

“Gross,” he laughs, his nose crinkling up in disgust. He’s so endearing when he’s joking around with you, “Don’t say eye fucking.”

You laugh, “It’s what she’s doing Joel. I wonder how long before she’s over here talking to you.”

You start pushing your chair out from the table and he grabs your leg, “Leave me alone and you’re dead to me”

“Joel,” you giggle and try to push the chair more, “I kinda have to pee though.”

“Babe, I'm serious. She scares me,” he says with a shudder. “I can feel her looking at me.”

“Oh, she’s doing more than looking…” you tease, sliding your chair back in.

“Don’t say it.”

He squirms as you lean in to his ear and whisper, “Eye fucking.”

“I hate you.”

After a few hours of catching up with old friends, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and grab another drink for you and Joel. When you come out of the bathroom Lucy is alone at your table with Joel. You can see the discomfort on his face as she shows him something on his phone. You’re not jealous or worried, but when Zack approaches you at the bar you decide to have a little fun.

“So you didn’t break up with him after all?” He’s leaning back cockily on the bar, arms crossed, eyes locked on Lucy.

“No,” you laugh while ordering drinks; whiskey neat for Joel and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for you. “I never planned to.”

“I figured. Lucy seems to take a liking to anyone you set your sights on.”

“You would know best, Zack.” You’re still facing the bar, but you see Zack glance quickly in your direction at the dig. “Any advice for poor Joel over there?”

“Don’t leave the best thing that ever happened to you for a gymnast with...” he stops speaking when he looks back to you, seeing you with one eyebrow raised as you sip your wine. “She and I are getting divorced.”

“I assumed.”

“Oh?”

And that’s when you hear it. Your song with Joel.

‘I know what you look like in the morning

Your kisses are soft and warm’

Joel looks around the room for you, when he spots you at the bar a mischievous grin crosses your face and you lean in close to Zack.

“Dance with me?” You whisper, giving him the puppy eyes he never used to say no to.

‘I can draw you with my eyes closed

Seen you with nothing on but the radio’

He places a hand on your lower back and leads you to the dance floor before pulling you in close. Huh, you think to yourself, 25 years later and still got it.

You look away from Joel and give Zack a tight lipped smile as the first verse of the song melts into the chorus.

‘I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh

The way you tilt your head for a photograph

What other guy knows you like that’

You fight the urge not to look past Zack’s shoulder and over at Joel as Zack’s voice drones on in the distance, telling you about his divorce.

‘And I can name the first guy you ever kissed’

You can’t help but sneak a glance at Joel. Zack is the first guy you kissed and Joel knows it.

‘I can name the perfume on your wrist’

Joel crosses his arms, staring at you darkly from across the room. Fuck, you think maybe you bit off more than you can chew.

‘What other guy knows you like that’

Joel stands and strides over to you.

Yes. Got him. He doesn’t look mad, if anything he’s looking at you with dangerous desire in his eyes. Your heart flutters as heat travels between your thighs.

“Babe, we gotta go.”

Zack starts to protest but you release yourself from his arms and say with a big smile, “It was lovely catching up. Thank you for the dance.”

As Joel leads you off the dance floor he growls quietly in your ear, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Little Dove.”

The car ride back to the hotel is silent. Not a word is uttered between either of you, the second the elevator door closes Joel presses you back against the wall. Towering over you, one of his hands roughly pulls down the right cup of your dress and bra, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and pointer finger.

You gasp out in pain, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares down at you. As the pain morphs into pleasure you squeeze your thighs together, your panties starting to soak through. He releases you when the elevator stops and turns his back to you, you cover your abused nipple back up before you follow him into your room.

“Clothes off and kneel,” he growls, throwing a pillow haphazardly at your feet.

“Joel-I…” you stutter out. He stalks across the room, only the discarded pillow separating you.

“I said,” he starts harshly. “Clothes off and kneel, Little Dove.”

You swallow the dry lump in your throat while sliding the zipper down the side of your black dress, letting it fall to the ground. A deep, guttural moan escapes Joel as you kick the dress aside and remove your bra and panties. You’re completely bare for him, nothing but your nude heels left.

“That’s better. Now kneel.”

You do as he says, getting into his desired position; hands on your lap and eyes aimed at the floor in front of you. He bends, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You expect to see his eyes dark and lips tight, instead, you’re met with softness, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you.

“Little Dove,” he starts, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I am going to punish you for being a brat tonight. Everything I plan to do is things we’ve talked about.”

“Like what?” You ask as your mouth goes impossibly dry.

“No, you don’t get answers tonight. You’re in trouble. Do you remember your safe words?”

You nod, “Yes sir.”

The colour coding system is how Joel prefers to do things. Red if you need to end things, yellow if you need a break or to slow down, and green to keep going.

His thumb caresses your cheek, “That’s my girl.”

Joel stands abruptly and your gaze follows him. When he looks down at you, his features are no longer soft. His eyes are almost black, eyebrows slightly knit together and jaw clenched. He snaps his fingers and points at the ground and you immediately obey, shifting your gaze back to where he prefers it. He walks across the room, uncuffing the sleeves of his black dress shirt and rolling them up his thick forearms. You hear the unmistakable sound of him removing his tie and his glasses being placed on the table.

“You were a brat tonight, Little Dove,” he says darkly. “Remind me, do I like brats?”

“No, sir.” It comes out in a nervous squeak.

Joel stares at you for a while and it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes on the ground. If Joel had to classify himself, he’d say he was a pleasure Dom. He’d rather use pleasure until you’d beg him to stop, but pleasure is earned, and you used that song and your ex-boyfriend to get to him tonight. He saunters back over and pets your head, just as you start to close your eyes and lean into his touch he grips your hair hard and pulls until you’re once again looking up at him. A shocked yelp comes out of you as you make eye contact.

“I think you did this on purpose because you so badly want me to spank you.”

“N-no, sir.”

“No? I bet if I reached in between your legs and felt your pretty little pussy she’d be soaked for me right now. Am I right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take out my cock, Little Dove.”

His grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as you reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt and pants. As you slide his dress pants down his thick thighs you can see him already hard under his tight black boxers. As you lower those, his thick cock springs free, brushing against your face.

“Hands on my thighs,” he barks.

You jump slightly at the harsh tone and move your hands to rest along the sides of his thighs. He moves his free hand to one of yours and taps on your hand 3 times. “You do that if you need to stop. Show me.”

You tap 3 times on his thigh like he showed you. “Too bad you were such a bad girl tonight. I wanted to please you and not punish you.”

He moves his hand to fist his cock a few times. It brushes your lips as he continues to speak. “Who do you belong to, Little Dove?”

“You sir,” you answer firmly but quietly.

“That’s right. Open.”

You lick your lips and obey his orders. He lines himself up and slides the tip of his cock in your mouth, pumping his shaft slowly with his hand, the other still locked in your hair.

“Mine,” he says it like he’s claiming you as he works more of himself into your mouth. You’re surprised how he takes his time, inching in a little before pulling back, letting you swirl your tongue around to get him nice and wet. When he’s finally all the way in, pushing against your gag reflex he groans out, “So…completely…mine.”

You look up at him through your lashes and remind yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, moaning around his cock before he pulls it all the way out. Saliva falls from your mouth and he smirks at you cockily while he fucks himself with his palm, the tip of his leaking dick resting on your tongue. The salty taste of his pre cum sends a fresh wave of arousal to the apex of your thighs, you can feel it gathering on your calves that are tucked underneath you.

Without warning, Joel starts to fuck your throat. He pushes himself all the way in and you gag around him before he pulls out halfway. He continues this punishing rhythm for a while, muttering darkly about how you’re a bad girl and you deserve to be punished.

You’re taken aback by how much you fucking love it. Watching him tower above you all big and strong but you know he’s falling apart. He’s becoming putty because of you and your mouth. It’s filthy and slightly degrading, but you realize that you’re the one in control here. You could do this forever and make a mental note to find times to act out more often. Tears start to run down your cheeks as his thrusts turn sloppy. You know he’s close so you hum around his cock.

“Oh fuuuuck, baby.” He pulls himself out and steps back, strings of saliva falling from his cock and landing on your chin. Your hands hit the ground in front of you as you gasp in a full breath for this first time since he started using your mouth. The heat between your thighs is starting to become unbearable.

“What did you think was going to happen - huh?” he says in a deep and condescending tone. “That I’d spank you and then make you come?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You’re not sorry though, you’d do it again just to feel that gush between your thighs when he hits the back of your throat.

“Only good girls get spankings. So let me make myself very clear.” You straighten your spine and look up at him as he goes back to petting your hair.

“You are not allowed to cum.” His voice is deep and scratchy, you’re sure he could make a living by narrating erotica, but that voice is yours.

A small whimper escapes you as he continues. “I’m going to continue to use you how I want. If I think you’ve proven yourself to be my good girl, you’ll get that spanking you want so desperately. Understand?”

He almost purrs as he says good girl and it turns you feral. “Yes, sir.”

He reaches a hand to you and helps you stand. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks before kissing the tip of your nose. “Get on the bed.”

As you walk to the bed you bring one leg up to remove your heels. “Leave them on. Hands and knees, Little Dove.”

Fuck, he knows this is your kryptonite. And fuck, you’re back to thinking that maybe you bit off more than you can handle. Joel is predictable about his Sunday plans during football season and nothing else.

After stripping off his clothes he comes up behind you, rubs the warm tip of his cock through your slit and he lets out a deep moan. Both of you can hear the wetness as he moves from your clit to your ass. “Mmmm - my bad girl clearly liked having me fuck her throat. You’re soaked for me.”

A firm hand pushes down between your shoulder blades and your upper body hits the mattress. at this new angle, everything is bare to him.

“Mine,” he says again before placing a few long, slow licks from your clit to your ass, swirling and pressing his tongue in all the right places. “So…completely…mine.”

His tongue teases your clit as he lightly teases your ass with the pad of his thumb. The heat begins to spread to your spine, the world falls away and all you’re left with is Joel. Joel and his wonderful and magic tongue. Joel and his ability to make you cum. His voice from earlier rings through your cries of pleasure, ‘you are not allowed to cum.’

“I…n-no…” you stutter, squeezing all your muscles to stop the orgasm that’s fast approaching. “That’s gonna…I’m gonna!”

“Don’t you dare, Little Dove.” He bites down on your ass cheek and you yelp in pain, but glad for the distraction from how close you were to finishing.

“Such a bad little girl tonight.” He says into your skin before continuing to tease you with his tongue, swirling your clit, moving to gently flick your ass, then back to your clit. You never know where his tongue might explore next and you find yourself mentally mapping out each aisle of your favorite grocery store with your eyes clamped shut to distract yourself.

“I wanna be a good girl,” you beg, utterly desperate to follow his rules tonight. “Please stop. I wanna be good, sir.”

“Poor thing,” he says mockingly, rising and sliding himself inside you so slowly that you feel every inch, vein, and ridge.

“Fuuuuuuuccccck,” you gasp as he bottoms out. A small, pleading ‘please’ escapes your lips but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Your body feels like liquid at this point, every muscle relaxed and every bone somehow missing. It’s a complete state of nirvana, if only he’d let you cum.

“Not yet,” he drags out of you and slams back in, a complete juxtaposition to how he first entered you. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “This is my pussy, mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours…” you manage to whine. “oh fuck…yours Joel.”

“That’s right, babygirl. Mine. So…completely…mine.”

One of your shoes falls to the ground as he continues to slam into you. You no longer know the difference between right and left, you just know that one shoe is missing. As you reach back to touch him, he pins your hand to your lower back, sliding almost all the way out before slowly pressing his hips flush with your ass.

“No,” he says sternly. “Only good girls get to touch.”

You scream out his name, begging him to let you cum. Joel leans forward and pulls you up, still fully inside of you, he holds you still against his warm chest, the combination of your sweat and his sweat feeling sticky along your back.

“You like when I use you like this, Little Dove?”

“Yessss,” you whine. You force yourself not to roll your hips even though the need to orgasm is almost painful. The word yellow flows through your mind. You could say it. You could say it and get what you want, but you trust Joel. You trust that he has bigger and better plans for you.

“Say it,” he commands while rolling your earlier pinched nipple between his fingers.

“Use me, sir….Please. I want to please you.”

“That’s my girl. My perfect little submissive.”

He pushes you back down into the sheets and fucks you harder. The sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans and squeals fill the room. You tense every muscle again to stop the orgasm that’s right on the surface.

“Where do you want it, Little Dove?”

“Inside me, sir.”

Joel curses through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby.”

“Fill me, sir.”

“Such a filthy little girl. D’you know that?” His voice is strained, you know he’s close and you just have to hold off a little longer.

“Only for you,” you say through moans and gasps.

That’s what does it and you push him over the edge with your words, the heat of his spend filling you as he lets out a loud moan. “Good fucking girl.”

He moves his hips into you a few more times, filling you so much it starts to leak out. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, soundin’ so goddamn sweet as you beg.”

He doesn’t stay in long after he cums, which you’re thankful for because you’re sure a faint breeze could make you detonate at this point. He steps back to admire the mess he’s made, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you before sitting next to your knees.

“Get over my knee.”

You rush on shaky limbs to get over this lap, wiggling your ass in nervous excitement. He uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back. “Mmm - that’s my good girl.”

Joel uses his other hand to draw slow circles along your cheeks. His warm and calloused fingers send shivers across your body. “How many do you think you should get?”

“10,” you respond sheepishly.

Joel laughs deeply to himself. “You were a brat. Do you really think 10 is enough?”

You audibly swallow in response to what you know is a rhetorical question. You didn’t think your pussy could throb any harder, but his voice, his hands, and this position has every nerve in your body aflame.

“20, and if you behave, I’ll stop at 15.”

“Please, sir.” The anticipation is killing you.

“Ok. I am going to spank you with my hand 20 times. You are going to count and say ‘I’m sorry’ after each one. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You try not to whine, but you need to be touched,

“Give me a colour baby”

“Green,” you whisper needily.

2 sharp and quick slaps hit your ass.

“1 and 2,” you squeal, “I’m sorry”

Light finger strokes tickle along the back of your thighs and up towards the now stinging skin. Joel’s hand disappears from your body and you tense.

“Shhh,” his thumb holding your wrist strokes the soft skin. “Take a deep breath, Little Dove.”

You inhale shakily, as you try to relax on your exhale, his hand comes down again. When the two of you did your research on spanking, all the experts said you’d know the sound of a good spank, and Joel being, well Joel, has taken it to a new level of perfection. His third spank stings, but it’s quickly replaced with a fresh wave of warmth in your core.

“Three. I’m sorry,” you love how quickly he can turn you into a whining mess.

From that point you’re in a trance. You almost feel like you’re floating outside your body as Joel continues your punishment. You hear your voice counting each strike of his hand. A rush of adrenaline courses through you after each one and you can feel his spend leaking out and dripping in between your thighs.

“Eight. I’m sorry”

“Messy messy girl.” He says, swiping a finger up your thigh and through the folds of your swollen pussy, he stays away from your clit but you could scream with how good it feels. “I should make you clean this up.”

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to face him, readying yourself for him to slide his fingers down your throat. Instead, he licks his fingers clean and then lays 3 quick smacks across your ass.

“Eleven. Oh god,” your body jolts with the first one but by the third you’re rolling your lips into him for friction, you need more. More pain. More of his fingers. More of anything and everything he’s willing to give you. “I’m sorry.”

Joel isn’t surprised to see that you like the pain, but he is surprised by how much he likes seeing you in pain. He was hesitant about this whole thing, worried about hurting you, but you’ve never looked more beautiful. A blush lights your face and neck, a thin sheen of sweat across your body. Your squeals and cries slowly become wanton moans. He knows it hurts you, but he can also see how that pain is temporary followed by a rush of adrenaline and pleasure.

“Good job, Little Dove,” he rubs the red hand prints gently. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.”

You relax into his lap as his praises wash over you. You feel completely submissive to him and for the first time, you feel what he said earlier. You are his. So completely his.

“My,” SMACK

“Perfect,” SMACK

“Little,” SMACK

“Submissive,” SMACK

They happen so quickly that all you can do is moan loudly in ecstasy, heat flooding your core to the point that it’s unbearable. Pressure behind your eyes builds as your neediness grows.

“Fif-fifteen. I’m sorry, sir.” You’re squirming uncontrollably, tears threaten to spring from your eyes.

“Please - please. It huuuurts.” Joel knows it’s not the spanking that hurts, it’s the animalistic need to cum that’s causing you so much discomfort.

“There’s my good girl,” he growls, sliding 2 fingers deep inside you. He curls them forward into your tight and messy heat. The squelching of his cum mixed with your arousal fills the room.

“Does this feel good, Little Dove?”

“Please Joel,” you sob through stuttered breaths, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “P-please - don’t stop.”

“Fuck I love when you say please. Did you know that? How it makes my cock twitch hearing you whine sweetly, asking so nicely.”

He slows his fingers, he knows how sensitive you are, he can feel your pussy gripping tightly to his fingers and he wants to bring you pleasure now, not push you into overstimulation. “You took those so beautifully, Little Dove. I’m so proud of you.”

You cry out a thank you, your orgasm is right there, the heat in your stomach and spine ready to erupt and spread to the rest of your body. As you squirm on his lap you can feel his erection growing beneath you. Joel continues curling his fingers against your most sensitive spot, his other hand letting go of your wrists and moving to soothe the handprints he left. The gentleness of one hand combined with the demanding desire of the other sends your mind swirling.

“Get up, baby girl.” He slides his fingers out from you and you want to cry out and complain before he adds, “I want you to cum on my cock.”

Joel steadies you as you stand up in front of him, “Hold on, spin around.”

You do as he says, albeit slightly confused until he presses his lips to the bright red handprints he’s tattooed across your skin.

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m His. So completely his.

You lay back on the bed, Joel crawling between your legs. He’s looking at you the way he used to when you first met, taking in every inch of your skin almost as if to commit it to memory. It’s the complete opposite of how he looked at you while you danced with Zack. His dangerous desire has turned to an overwhelming softness.

“Lift your hips, baby,” he slides a spare pillow under you.

His strong hands massage your hips gently as his eyes rake over your red and swollen pussy. “Oh - that looks painful, baby. Do you need me to take care of it?”

You whine out in frustration, “Please, sir. I need to cum. Please.”

He lets out a whispered ‘oh god’ at your pleas, hooking one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, the other wrapping around his waist as he lines himself up and then leans down to softly press his lips to yours. He slides inside of you slowly and you’re instantly shaking underneath him.

“Shhh, you’re ok,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you harder, rocking his hips with perfect precision. “I’m right here. I got you, baby. I got you.”

The soft part of his belly grazes your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “Oh god - I’m gonna cum.”

“There you go, baby. Cum for me.”

You fall apart around him, your head falling back in a silent cry to the ceiling. A buzz of electricity shutters through your whole body, your walls clenching around him harder than you thought was possible.

“That’s it,” he says into your neck as he licks and kisses. “Let go for me.”

His words spread more tingles along your skin, you tangle your hands in his curls and pull his face to yours. Kissing him deeply as you start to come down. He stills inside you as he comes again, sending you into a wave of aftershocks. You swallow his moans in your kisses, you never want this to end.

“Stay here honey,” Joel says, getting up to walk with wobbly legs to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and carefully wipes you clean. Your body jolts and you cry out when he gets near your clit, he whispers apologies while drying you with a towel.

You start to get up. “Are you ok?” he questions.

“I have to pee,” you laugh. As you wash your hands you take in your reflection. Your poor nipple is purple from the elevator, you have mascara down your face, and as you predicted, you are already bruising from his grip on your hips. You spin to see angry, dark red splotches along the globes of your ass and you smile at yourself. Fuck, is there something wrong with me?

Even though you’re exhausted, you practically skip back out to the bed where Joel is holding a big glass of water and some soothing lotion that he purchased weeks ago for this exact moment. He laughs and shakes his head, he knows he’s in for it now seeing how happy you are with yourself.

“Drink this and then lay on your stomach please,” adding a quick, “you little brat.”

“So bossy.” You joke and roll your eyes, but you both love this part and as elated as you are right now, you know you need the aftercare so that your anxieties don’t get you later. So, you do as he says. You drink the water and then lay on your stomach. Joel rubs the cooling lotion on your marks and then places long, light kisses along your spine.

“How are you feeling?” He coos between kisses.

“I’m great. That was amazing. How are you feeling? I know you weren’t too sold on spanking me.”

Joel lies beside you and pulls you in, his front presses against yours, both of you using your own arm as a pillow. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how much I liked it. You looked so beautiful the entire time. I didn’t think I would like it, but….” He trails off looking slightly embarrassed, using his free hand to play with your hair.

“But?” you push.

“But…well a man my age doesn’t get multiple orgasms very often, makin’ me feel like we’re in our 20’s again.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to act out more often. Any cute guys on the job site I can eye fuck?”

Joel growls as he pulls you over to rest on his chest. “Mine. Now go to sleep, Little Dove. And stop saying that.”

Tag List: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

Also a special tag for @javierpena-inatacvest because I'm not on a mission to make her a Joel girlie.

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aimseytv · 1 year

Note

please rant about bubbline, i need a win

the brilliance of bubbline has been vastly misunderstood for years and i’ll explain. people see bubbline as your standard sapphic couple with no real depth, people see the pairing and go ‘gfs’ and move on HOWEVER they are so much more than just girlfriends. they are two immortal beings who for years have been wrapped around the other fingers and have had a relationship based on miscommunication until wrapping that up during the stakes era (varmints s7 is what confirms this but we get into that later)

so the entirety of bubbline is based on miscommunication and you may be wondering: aimsey, how? well that’s because of the fact both of the pair believed the other was in the wrong. but, for us to discuss this, i must explain their relationship in its entirety. we understand how long their relationship has truly been going on for when there is a clip in obsidian distant lands (ODS) where bubblegum catches marcys rock tshirt, both when the pairing are younger or well “a longer time ago” - this shows how long they’ve truly been in each others lives. now, fast forward to the scene we get in ODS where marceline and bubblegum argue over the sense of power, as well as immaturity. we see marceline wanting to just hang with her girlfriend, while in a disruptive manner, meant no harm, and we see bubblegum attempting to focus on work while accidentally shutting marceline down in the process. that quickly escalates into a full blown argument, and quotes like “you’re acting like monster trash” is thrown at marceline which, marcy being an angsty little half demon, didn’t take too lightly in which she responded to the comment with a song that basically says “nvm. you’re not cool. i’m glad i woke up. fuck you and your candy kingdom” and it ends with bubblegum breaking up with marcy. sad right? you haven’t seen anything yet

so now we move on to the tv show. the first we see of the two is the episode ‘go with it’ where marcy is asked to help finn in his adventure to try and ask out the princess. you may be wondering “huh? but if bubblegum is her ex why would she help-“ WRONG! because she doesn’t help! she gives finn completely wrong advice which ends in finn getting thrown out of the candy kingdom. the interaction between the two during this episode is bitter, where we see marceline speak in a high pitched tone and say ‘hello bonnibel’ almost mockingly, in response to bubblegums ‘hey marceline..’ which is incredibly stand offifish. from the get go, we know something happened between them (and with obvious clues now we know the timeline but as a first time viewer, this random episode in s1 can confuse everyone because why do these two characters have beef we don’t know about?)

now, moving onto an important core episode in their timeline which is ‘what was missing’ in season 3. one of the most popular adventure time episodes, and one of the most popular bubbline moments where we see bubblegum and marcy being forced to be together due to finn and jake attempting to take down a “door lord” that includes all of the teams prized possessions. (tldr: little gremlin dude stole jake, finn, bubblegum and marcelines* top favourite and most memorable items.. we will get back to this shortly). anyway, they have to sing a song of truth to get passed and with a failed attempt, marceline tries and lets say she just unleashes all the resentment and anger she’s had towards bubblegum in the form of a song! she says stuff like “i wanna drink the red from your pretty pink face”, “sorry i don’t treat you like a goddess”, and “why should i be the one to make up with you.. so why do i want to?” - indicating she WANTS to. which is probably the first time bubblegum has heard this, because bubblegums reaction is very much just “:O” the entire time. anyway, song goes on, marcy blames bubblegum for her messing up (in reality marcy only messed up because she began saying she wants to bury bubblegum but that isn’t true so the door didn’t accept it. L). anyway, they make up soon enough when finn does his little finn thing and everything is fine.. until bubblegum tries to go against the door lord with a “calculation” which appears to be false and it messes everything up - marcy uses this failure of hers to kinda rub it in her face, watching the princess fail was a positive in marcelines eyes as she was used to seeing bubblegum put work before her so of course she will use any moment of bonnie messing up as a win. she says “looks like you aren’t as perfect as you thought..” which has bonnie respond with “i never said you had to be perfect!” .. OUCHIE!! this leads to them getting upset, finn doing a little sing song which actually opens the door, and them getting their stuff back.. YIPPEE! now, you may be wondering “what was the stuff bubbline had stolen from them?” WELLLL LEMME TELL YOU. bubblegums most prized possession was THE ROCK T-SHIRT that MARCY GAVE HER years ago. marceline blushes as she says “you.. kept the shirt i gave you?” and bubblegum replies “yeah it uh.. means a lot to me” and marcy asks why because bonnie never wears it, to which bonnie replies “i wear it all the time. as panama’s.” .. NOTHING MORE GAY THAN SLEEPING IN YOUR EXES SHIRT THEY GAVE YOU THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS!!!! anyway, marcy didn’t actually *have* an item stolen from her and instead it seems she just wanted to hang out with the team, more importantly wanted to hang out with her pink haired ex girlfriend. good stuff!

anyway, next important interaction i’m highlighting comes from the season 5 episode ‘sky witch’ (there is a lot of smaller key moments but i’m jumping to this one okay moving on) anyway, there is a huge moment at the start of sky witch where bubblegum begins by.. sniffing the shirt marceline gave her.. as she wakes up, to then opening her closet to get ready for the day and we see a polaroid of the pairing IN THE CLOSET… you get my drift? anyway, it slowly moves on to marcy asking PB for help with something (in reality she needs PB to help her recover a teddy bear that was stolen from her that was given to her by her literal father figure during the mushroom war.. so it has a lot of significance. remember that). anyway, PB agrees after the tiniest of convincing and on they go! they go on this adventure, but we will skip to the end where PB magically gets the teddy back.. how? well, we don’t find out until the end of the episode where bubblegum actually traded the rock shirt marcy gave her all those years ago. why did that work you ask? because the sky witch works from the value of items, and not money value, but emotional significance.. SO IT MEANS THE ROCK SHIRT MARCY GAVE HER HAD MORE EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT AND SIGNIFICANCE THAN THE LITERAL TEDDY GIVEN TO MARCY DURING A LITERAL WAR FROM HER OWN FATHER FIGURE THAT ABANDONED HER!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!

okay okay, need more information? i’ve got you! we will quickly move onto VARMINTS my favourite episode of all time. “why aimsey?” because it gives us all the answers and clues we were waiting for when it comes to PB and marcys relationship. we learn that bonnie was unaware of the reason as to why marcy believed they stopped talking and broke up, we see bonnie apologise for hurting marcy and shutting her out, and we see marceline accept her apology as the pair can finally move on and accept the past. after seven whole seasons we get closure baby! the episode is brilliant in millions of ways, as we see bonnie be vulnerable around marceline regarding her loss of the candy kingdom, we see marcy reconciling with bonnie as they travel through the tunnels the pair used to explore years and years before, and it’s just a very nice episode. we are hit with the infamous quote “bonnibel bubblegum, always so prepared.” to which bonnie replies in a stern tone “yeah, i have to be always so prepared, we can’t all just wing it!” which is almost a dig at marcelines free spirit nature, but not out of malice, out of jealousy. bonnie wishes she had that, and not the huge amount of responsibility she has been burdened with since she was barely old enough to understand what it means to be mature. marcy saying the words “is that why you stopped talking to me?” after hearing bonnie go on a rant about how responsibility is difficult always hits me in my heart because it proves marcy to this day, although being bitter about it, believes the reason bonnie shut her out was because bonnie preferred work over her and that was marcelines biggest fear (as we know from getting shut out from her mother, her father and being abandoned by simon). bonnie going “no?!” because she genuinely just didn’t even think to see that may have been the reason the two fell out; both of the pair believing it was the other that lead to the fallout and bonnie not realising it may have involved her a lot more than she thought and it wasn’t just down to marceline being immature. anyway, episode ends with bonnie apologising, marcy accepts it, and we get a very sweet moment where bonnie is vulnerable and explains she is exhausted and marcy allows her to sleep on her shoulder as she rests. very cute :)

okay now stakes the mini series is a whole new realm for stuff regarding the pairs relationship. the stakes mini series is highlighting marcelines relationship with vampirism, and is a very beautiful series i recommend everyone watches. it begins with marceline burning in the sun, and slowly moves on to her asking bonnie to help her with the procedure of turning her into a human because she no longer wants to be a vampire - huge thing to ask, and bonnie ensures she is sure, and they do the procedure. a moment from this i think about a lot is where bonnie says this while doing the procedure regarding the fact marcy will no longer be immortal: “and when you die, i’ll be the one who puts you in the ground”. i think it’s just a nice quote. anyway, there are so many key moments from stakes but i’ll highlight important ones because it’s 5 episodes jam packed of bubbline but another moment is where they are searching for one of the vampires to hunt (this’ll make more sense if you watch it but TLDR: the procedure also unleashed all the vampires marcy has defeated in her years of growing up). PB and marcy are doing jumping jacks, and marcy is explaining a dream she had where in the dream marcy was all old, but PB was still “nice and pink” - meaning marcy was dreaming of her immortality being taken away, and dreaming about how in her future when she’s old, she’s with PB and she’s grown old with her (aww). bubblegum replies “you think i’m nice?” and it’s a very sweet moment where the pair blush. marcy then explains she has a weird feeling in her stomach, and PB asks if it’s just fear and marcy explains she knows what fear feels like already, and then goes “maybe it’s.. love?” regarding what the feeling is while looking at bubblegum and ITS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT THAT DRIVES ME INSANE BECAUSE HOLY!!!! MOLY!!!!!!!! she was just hungry (lmao) and we move on! another scene is where marceline gets hurt badly, and bonnie is begging for her to wake up as she holds marcys lifeless body in her arms and it’s just a very emotional scene of bonnie begging her to wake up when she thinks marcy is about to die and it’s just very sad and beautiful. i’m gonna quickly move on towards the end of stakes as we have more to cover but during the end, marcy gets turned back into a vampire but explains she has learned a lot and she thanks bubblegum, and says the beautiful quote “thanks for helping me grow up. now i guess we get to hang out together forever” and bonnie blushes in return and it’s just such an AAHHHHH scene!!!!!

now, we are rushing towards the finale (i’m missing some very key moments but i’ve been writing this for an hour straight without stopping i will fill in the blanks later) but basically during the final episode, marcy stops bonnie and begs her not to go to war - bonnie replies she has to, and in this moment you can see marcy more so terrified that this will result in her losing bonnie for the second time due to work and she doesn’t want this. its canon at this point the pair are dating again, and we see them chit chat before moving on as the battle starts. fast forward to bonnie getting really injured, and in result of this marceline loses her literal shit and punts the monster that killed bonnie after believing her girlfriend just got smothered and really badly injured - after this, marcy is out of breath and we see bonnie sit up and whisper ‘marcy?’ in a soft tone and marcy flies over just overjoyed she is okay. marcy says “even when we weren’t talking i was scared something bad would happen to you and i wouldn’t be there to protect you” and it’s such a raw line where it’s just obvious throughout all these years marceline never truly moved on from her. marcy and her giggle and then bubbline share their first on screen kiss that made thousands of gays across the globe pass away!!!

then, we have the beautiful obsidian distant lands that gives us insight into their very healthy relationship as we learn a lot more about the pair, and we just get some beautiful shared moments between them and even them canonically calling each other girlfriends which will never not be engraved in my brain!

this was everything from the top of my head (they will be my number one hyperfixation whether i like it or not until i pass away) but yeah! tldr: miscommunication lead to them not speaking for a very long time when the pair both just wanted to be loved but didn’t know how to balance their own stuff on top of loving the other. the miscommunication lied with bonnie throwing herself into her work instead of giving marceline attention, ultimately losing marcys trust in the process, and where marceline being a free spirit lead to bonnie just not being able to work like that as she “isn’t built like that” (her own quote “people get built different. we don’t need to figure it out, we just gotta accept it”. despite it being about her brother, i like to apply it to her also here). and marceline not giving PB the credit of her being a literal ruler burdened with responsibility. both were too young i’d say, but them growing up together and allowing the other to heal in their own ways lead them to each other again :)

THAT IS THE HISTORY OF BUBBLINE BY AIMSEYTV

#i am so very sorry for how long this answer is #this is all from the top of my head #there may be mistakes but i don’t care #if you try to reblog this with your own opinions that are anything negative regarding the pairing i will block you #just kidding #or am i #do not mischaracteris bonnie or marcy i will forever get them more than you #that was mean #anyway #asksey #bubbline #history of bubbline #princess bubblegum #marceline #adventure time

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happy-beeeps · 3 months

Text

Naïveté

Summary: Astarion begins to reconcile with the fact he might have fallen for you, only to worry you've caught an interest in someone else. Earllllllly act 2, minor spoilers for act 2!

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav

Warnings/tags: fluff, miscommunication if you squint, jealous!astarion, platonic!wyll x tav, slightly ooc Astarion because I'm still learning to write him so be nice PLEASE😭🥺

WC: 2k

a/n: I'm finishing a character sheet for tav so we can have her backstory, but she's who I've been using this playthrough and I've been really enjoying her story. When I post on Ao3 she'll have a name, but I'm going to leave her unnamed here! Also, will have a seperate BG3 spot on my masterlist soon!

It’s late at camp, and by the time you finish indulging in a bottle of wine with Karlach, you figure you’re the only one still up. It’s been a long night, and an even longer few days, spent trudging through the grimy depths of the Shadowcursed lands and just barely making it out of the encounter with Marcus alive. Isobel had given you the ability to travel freely, but all you could do was set up camp near the inn.

The firelight is dim when you make your way back from the secluded spot near Karlach’s tent, and Astarion’s tent is sealed tightly. You contemplate going over, just peaking your head in to see if he’s deep in trance yet, but you change your mind. After your previous night’s conversation, you’re still not sure on speaking terms. It plays out over and over again in your mind. Naive, he’d called you, your heart was too big.

You tried to be reasonable. You were naive. You were young, and perhaps no one but Wyll new exactly how young. To be ninety as an elf was to be just becoming an adult. No one else had known, no else had asked, including Astarion. You chalked it up to his truly immortal lifespan, he hadn’t cared about aging for 200 years, why start now?

Still, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him, or the thrill that shook your bones when he would quietly rush into your tent each morning, murmuring the incantation for lesser restoration. You still thought of the way he looked at Gale when he asked to consume that locket all those days back. “I’m glad you let him suffer for a moment, darling,” he’d murmured into your ear that night, his breath tingly on your neck, “That one’s ours.”

There’d been other nights since your first night together, while you hadn’t slept together in completion since, all passion and teeth and sweat. Sometimes you’d just kiss him, wrapped up in nothing else but this bliss of arms and scent. Lately though, he’d been closed off—distant. His conversation the previous night had come out of nowhere, as if you were standing on the doorstep of Moonrise Towers that very instant.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, consumed of Astarion, that you nearly missed Wyll’s form standing near the dimming fire, moving around in a dance you actually recognized.

“I hope I’m not interrupting practice,” you smiled, giving the man ample warning before you stumbled into his rehearsal.

Wyll wheeled on you, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. “It’s one of those old courting dances, it’d be a cold day in the hells before I’d ever forget them.”

“Oh I’m quite familiar,” you murmured, thinking back to your own youth, your own debutante ball, before you lost everything. “Everyone else around here forgets I come from taste.”

Wyll snorts, “Sure don’t smell like it.”

Your friendship with Wyll is a special thing. No one else can understand what it felt like to be from a Noble family, the expectations and the experience it comes with. When your family had been killed and their wealth assumed, you were completely on your own. Learning how to pickpockets and lie had not been a part of your expensive and tasteful education.

Dancing, however, came second nature.

You move to stand in front of him without really thinking, decades of experience guiding your motions. “Go on, let’s see what you can do.”

He’s a fine partner, moving cautiously around you and guiding your hand easily. Even when he brings you closer for a slightly more intimate dance, his hands nor his eyes never stray.

“I wonder what I’d have done if I ever saw you at one of the balls my father sent me too.” He murmurs.

“I’m certain you did. Though you would’ve been young. I haven’t been in nearly a decade.”

He chuckles, and clucks his tongue for a moment, “Just practically a baby, far to young to approach Fey nobility.” Before bowing in front of you and wishing you goodnight. There’s the smallest beat where he looks at you as if he has something to say. You look at him for the smallest moment. It would be so easy to love him, if you were anyone else. He’s exactly who your father would have picked for you, save his humanity. But, despite it, you can’t. You can’t fake the flutter you get when you Astarion’s cold hands tickle your fingers, or the tickle of his hair on your cheek when he’s pressed against your neck. You’re not naive enough to admit this to Astarion, but from the fleeting glance you send to his tent, you can see that Wyll already knows. He leaves you with a knowing glance and a soft goodnight. You go back to your own tent, happy to have removed the thought of the curse, of Ketheric, and even of your own problems for just a moment.

So full of contentedness in fact, you don’t notice the scarlet eyes peering at you from the slat of their tent, a whirlwind of emotions cascading over them.

* * *

Astarion doesn’t hide his mild disdain for Wyll, or anyone to be fair, to begin with, but the following morning he bears down on the man like an ogre. “I didn’t anticipate you being quite so light on your feet. The Blade stands at the ready, and also ready to pirouette, I suppose?”

Wyll rolls his eyes at Astarion’s quip, used to the sarcasm, but somewhat surprised at the intensity of the rogue’s grip on his arm. “Wasn’t aware I couldn’t have past times.”

“By all means feel free to entertain us with a ballet in between slaughters,” his voice hushes as you walk by, looking at the two men skeptically, “I’d just prefer if your duets didn’t happen whilst I’m trying to read.”

Wyll follows Astarion’s slightly fleeting to his retreating gaze. You’re standing behind him, out of earshot, leaning against Lae’zel’s tent while she sharpens your sword. Astarion’s stare is enough to allow him to piece everything together. “Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Only if you accept that I may ignore it entirely.”

“She’s wonderful. And she’s made her choice without giving anyone else a chance. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it, wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

Wyll walks away, and Astarion is left alone again with his thoughts. Contrary to Wyll’s belief, he thinks it might actually kill him to get to know you. He’s been balancing precariously on his fight to not let himself be fully consumed by you and your grace, your goodness. You were a spoilt little thing, he was sure of that, and he had meant what he said that night by the water. It didn’t mean it hurt his chest more when your face fell. “Naive?” there was a crack in your cool, crafted facade. Genuine hurt had settled there for a moment, and something akin to disappointment. He hadn’t known how to face you since, hadn’t known how to say “I’m sorry! I’m falling for you and can’t help it and I’m terrified!”

So instead he said nothing at all, and resolved to say something later.

* * *

You had just gotten back to camp for the night, Karlach nearly giggling at the amount of gold she had stuffed in her pockets from the tollhouse. You had noticed Astarion’s eyes on you, heavy and pensive, when you had dealt with the Master of Coin, how easily you’d convinced her to simply cease to be. That was perhaps the easiest transition from nobility to rogue you had, the gift of a silver tongue and wide, batting eyes.

You changed into your camp clothes and watched Karlach throw gold pieces at an increasingly irritated Lae’zel, Gale standing nearby doing his best to keep spirits high in this eerie camp, working with whatever cured meats and cheeses you still had to attempt to make a dinner. You had changed into camp clothes and grabbed one of the books you had found in the tollmaster’s office, a shockingly smutty romance novel that had to be even older than you. It was quiet in the corner you found, somewhere even Halsin’s booming laugh had faded into quiet background noise. You tried to not think about your surroundings, about your increasing frustration with Astarion, or the odd way his gaze had hung on you all day.

“I’m always impressed by that tongue of yours, petal.” The vampire’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and he settled beside you on the ground, arms behind him as he reclined easily next to you.

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and the pet name. “Yet you’ve been leaving me and my tongue to our thoughts the past few days.” You huffed, flipping the book to the next page, though not really reading any of it

If Astarion could blush, he looked as if he would. “We’ve been a bit busy darling. I’ve been…strategizing.”

“Strategizing?”

“Precisely.”

The quiet overtook the two of you. After being so distant, if he didn’t want to come to you, then so be it. You could not—would not–crack first. He could not even begin to know the bubbling furnace of your feelings, or you’d be positively done for.

“How old are you?”

His question strikes you, strikes you enough that you set the book off to the side and face him. “At what point did you start to ask me questions?”

“When I realized I had done something to anger my favorite companion,” his fingers reach out and trace small patterns on your skin. “How old are you?”

“Ninety.” Your voice moves to a whisper at the end of the word, and his eyebrows quirk.

“Only ninety and yet alone. And Balduran?”

“Yes, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventy five.”

“Something happened,” he rocks upward, now sitting nearer to you. “You weren’t supposed to be like this.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’m so naive.” It comes out more bitter than you meant, but oh well. He deserved it.

“Naive wasn’t the right word,” he looks like he’s fighting himself to turn out the next sentence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

You smile softly, laying a hand on top of his. “I don’t know if I believe that, but I appreciate the apology.”

He grins, his deep set smile lines settling in your favorite way. “Tell me about your childhood.”

You shrug, “There’s not much to say. I was an only child, an only daughter. I used to play the lyre, learn languages, paint–”

“You come from nobility.”

“I sort of thought it was obvious,” you shrug and tap your knee against his, “I wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of a campground, much less learning the ways of a rogue.”

“What were you supposed to be?”

“A wife, I guess.”

“And while I’m sure suitors everywhere are devastated, I much prefer my rogue.”

My. You don’t say anything and neither does he. You let the word hang there, testing to see if he reaches back to grab it, but he doesn’t. It gets quiet for a moment after that, and you can see him spinning the illusion in his head. You, swathed in organza, spinning around a marble ballroom, entertaining suitors.

“Is that why you danced with Wyll?”

“Ah,” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder. You love these fleeting moments of intimacy, where you can both pretend to be nothing more than lovers on an adventure. “So this was spurred by jealousy?”

“As if I have anything to be jealous over Wyll. He wishes he looked half as good as me.” His words lack their normal bite, and he turns his head softly, so he’s speaking quietly, just to you. “But perhaps in the future you’d let me take you for a spin.”

You press your hand against his on the ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

There’s so much more you both want to say, confessions on the precipice of both your minds, but you say nothing. You idle together a touch longer, hands resting against each other, pretending neither of you can get hurt, envisioning a world where it’s him spinning you across the dance floor in a world where you could have each other.

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion romance

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