#I see and remember those who are always liking/reblogging/tagging/commenting

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, gratuitous Hamlet 2 reference, mention of masturbation, descriptions of violence, death, full on crazy.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: Nat sent you and Bucky some Hydra security footage she was able to get from her old KGB contacts. You're in for a wild ride.

A/N: THE MADNESS!

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Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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There was no real rhyme or reason to the footage, no overarching narrative that tied the clips together. They were just short, interspersed segments, with no sound, from different camera angles within the Hydra base. The base was probably operating underground; the harsh fluorescent lights acting as the only source of illumination, which made it impossible to determine time of day. 

Most of the clips were mundane– shots of a younger version of Jade Carthage training in weapons and combat, eating with the base’s other operatives, sitting in some sort of school room and seemingly being made to recite information. One thing was clear– the girl was not the tortured prisoner she’d led Nick Fury to believe. 

You and Bucky watched clips as Jade got older, her training more intense. The scientists at the base put her through extensive endurance testing but, upon completing them, she always looked happy, as though glad to have pleased her keepers with her results. Periodically, an older man in a suit would be seen in the footage. He appeared to be a higher up in Hydra’s hierarchy– the other occupants of the base deferred to him as though he was someone of importance.

“I know that guy,” Bucky said the first time the footage showed a clear image of the man’s face. “Not his name or anything like that, but I remember seeing him with Alexander Pierce.”

You reached up to hold the hand that Bucky still kept on your shoulder, squeezing it in support. “You okay to go on with this?” you asked, knowing that Pierce, as the man who had commanded him to kill Tony’s parents, among others, was a shadow that still loomed large over Bucky’s psyche.

He swallowed. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

The two of you kept watching as Suit Man came to observe Carthage, bringing her gifts and acting almost… parental toward the girl. It was disconcerting to watch him gently stroke her hair or offer her a hug, knowing the kind of man he must be, if he was working so high up within Hydra.

“What’s that?” you asked, rewinding the clip and enlarging it over a folder that Suit Man had handed to Carthage. “Holy shit,” you said, once you’d made out the face on the photo attached to the front of the file. “Buck, that’s you.”

Bucky leaned forward, squinting at your screen. “How can you tell, doll?” he asked. “It just looks like a bunch of pixels.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I’ve stared at your face long and hard enough to recognize it anywhere, Barnes,” you told him. “Whatever’s in that file, it’s about you.” 

Bucky gave you a look you couldn’t quite unpack. “Keep playing it,” he said after a moment. 

You zoomed out and resumed the footage. Over time, Suit Man would bring Carthage more files. She would continue her training, follow her same routine. You were nearly nodding off with the monotony of it when something changed. A new camera angle appeared in the footage, this one seeming to be of Carthage’s quarters within the base, and you were surprised by just how… normal they were. She had a four poster bed, a vanity, bookshelves– it was a typical room for a young woman. The only thing that looked remotely out of place were the photos on the walls. Once again, you paused the video so you could enlarge the image.

The walls were covered in seemingly hundreds of photos of Bucky.

“Holy shit,” you whispered.

“Are those… are those all me?” Bucky asked as you dragged the image around your screen, wanting to see every available corner of her space.

“Yes,” you said. “They… these all look like surveillance shots. Why do you look like Jesus in this picture?” you asked him, squinting as you pointed to one where he was wearing robes and standing by a river, his long hair tied half-up in the back of his head.

“Shit, that’s from when I was in Wakanda,” Bucky exhaled. “How the fuck would Hydra get shots of me there?”

You leaned back. “Well. Rock me, rock me, rock me, sexy Jesus,” you said under your breath. 

“We just discovered that Hydra somehow found a way to spy on me in the most technologically secretive nation on the planet, and that’s your takeaway?” Bucky asked.

“I’m neither blind, nor a nun, Barnes,” you replied before zooming out and starting the footage once again. “Though, with a Savior that looked like that, I’d gladly devote the rest of my life to serving the Faith.”

“Pretty sure that’s blasphemy,” he said, though you could hear the shy smile in his voice, and you just knew he was blushing at the compliment. “I don’t understand, though. If I’m her target, why’s she hanging my pictures on her wall?”

You squinted your eyes as the Carthage in the footage drew a heart around one of Bucky’s headshots with what appeared to be lipstick. “I think…” you began, an idea coming to you, “I think they’re manufacturing infatuation.” You bit your lip in consideration. “If there’s one thing on this planet with more obsessive, singular focus on a target than a Hydra-trained assassin, it’s a teenage girl with a crush. They’re making sure she’s got the concentration of both.” You watched with sick fascination as Carthage took the photo she’d drawn the heart on, and bringing it over to her bed, appeared to be talking to it as she crawled under the covers.

“Oh, shit,” you said with realization. “We should skip over this part.”

“Why?” Bucky asked, clueless to what you knew was coming. “What’s going on?”

“If I am not mistaken,” you said, as Carthage held the photo to her chest before slipping a hand under her blanket, “she’s about to start masturbating to that photo of you.”

“Jesus fuck!” Bucky exclaimed. “Fast forward, Pocket! Fast forward!”

You skipped the video to the next time stamp, trying and failing to control your laughter. It wasn’t that you were laughing at Carthage– this was a gross violation of a private moment, and no one, not even her, deserved that; no, you were laughing at how horrifically uncomfortable it seemed to make Bucky.

“Come on, Barnes,” you said, getting yourself together, “you’ve already fucked the girl twice. Now you’re suddenly shy about watching her cum?”

You felt Bucky stiffen behind you, and you felt bad… momentarily, but he didn’t acknowledge your comment, so you kept watching the footage, until there were only a few minutes left. Suit Man returned and after a few moments, said something to Carthage that had her jumping for what appeared to be joy and throwing her arms around the man. 

“Something’s about to happen,” you muttered, eyes glued to the screen. And then… shit hit the fan.

You and Bucky watched in horror as Suit Man handed Carthage a pair of guns, and the two moved systematically through the base, with Carthage slaughtering every operative in their path. 

“What the hell?” Bucky whispered. 

“No other survivors,” you said, recalling the words from her bio sheet all those months ago. “They’re selling her story. Making it look like she escaped. Jesus Christ. She lived with these people for years. She’s fucking insane.” 

Carthage was pumping so many bullets into the agents at the base that she quickly ran out. From there, it was like she just snapped– beating the others to death with anything she could get her hands on. And if there was nothing readily available, she used her bare hands. “Fuck,” you muttered, feeling the urge to vomit. You turned your head, burying it into Bucky’s stomach as he stood behind you. “I can’t watch anymore. Tell me when it’s done,” you begged.

Bucky’s hand came up and rubbed comforting circles on your back. “Yeah, sweets,” he said, voice hollow, “I’ll let you know.”

After what seemed like absolutely far too long, you heard Bucky swallow, and he tapped you on your shoulder, indicating it was safe for you to look again. Turning back to the screen, you were disgusted to see Carthage absolutely covered in blood. The only thing you could think of was Carrie at the prom, but Carthage looked delighted with herself, the whites of her eyes and her blazing smile sitting in stark contrast to the dark lifeblood that coated her face. Together, she and Suit Man walked casually out of the last camera frame, as though she hadn’t just committed mass murder.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[kwanisms]

More Than Just Friends — b.chris

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ werewolf!Chris × f!Reader wc: 7.4k summary: Chris is a werewolf. His best friend is well aware of this. But what she doesn’t know is that during his heat, he often pictures pinning her down and breeding her. When she comes back home the day before his cycle is due to start, Chris finds it hard to not give into his urges when he smells she’s ovulating. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural and lycanthropic themes, f2l (gasp and they were roommates); non idol au, werewolf au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, Chris struggles with his horny thoughts and controlling his urges but can you blame the poor guy? Being in heat probably sucks when you aren’t getting laid 💀, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 Join the taglist! »» Closes tomorrow (30th) at 23:00 CST Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this was written partially for myself but also for my bestie, Sky. So you're welcome, bestie ily. We're nearing the end of this series so I'll take this time to announce that once I wrap up with Kinktober, the Tales from Camp Holiday Special will start back up with Jun and Vernon's part. If you’d like to sign up for the taglist, you can do so here. If you haven't read the first two installments, you can find those here. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about and read for SVT, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here! Thank you so much for reading and if you liked it, please consider supporting me on kofi (link on my pinned post) and reblogging or commenting! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a werewolf and he’s been dreaming about breeding his best friend. You don’t do that tho. You use protection), oral (both receiving), brat taming (f receiving), breeding, heat cycles, daddy kink, dom!Chris, sub!Reader, use of pet names (baby, babygirl, princess, etc), Chris is a very whipped man and loves Y/N very much. If I've missed anything, please let me know!

dialogue prompt: ❛ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it ❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Chris is normally a very patient man. He never rushes things, always preferring to take his time in everything he does. He’s always been able to keep his cool, even when things get… a little hairy. As a werewolf, he’s gotten pretty good at controlling his urges as well.

Chris can recall the exact moment everything changed. He can trace his werewolf lineage back to the Joseon period. He is descended from werewolves. There was no camping trip or fateful night where he was stalked and bitten or mauled by some wolf-man beast. 

He was born with his condition, the bloodline being passed down from father to son. The women in the family carried the gene but it was only dominant in males. Only males experienced the Change. Chris was around 11 or 12 when it first happened. He was sitting with some friends, playing video games in the basement when it happened.

He remembered the fever, the sweating, his vision blurring, and then everything went black. When he came to, it was the next morning and he was lying in bed, a cool towel on his forehead and the sun creeping into the room via his window. His mother, who had come to check on him and found him awake, called his father in and the both of them sat down and explained to Chris what was going on.

He was a werewolf. Of course, Chris didn’t understand but as the days turned into weeks, he started to notice the Change even more. His first full moon was approaching and he needed to prepare himself. He started to crave raw meat which his mother was able to provide in the form of rare steak. Chris had never eaten his steaks rare before that point.

Most of the changes were subtle and manageable. The big one was unavoidable. Chris’ first transformation was excruciating but he somehow managed to make it through to the morning and his father told him he had a month to recuperate before it happened again. Chris had hoped that was the end of the surprises but as he got closer to his second full moon, the heat started.

His father had mentioned it but the effects still caught him off guard. He was still only in the beginning stages of puberty so Chris still had a lot to learn about his own anatomy as well as his wolf side. His father assured him everything he was feeling was normal. Every male in the family had gone through this at some point in their lives.

As Chris got older, he was able to manage the changes but the one he still couldn’t seem to overcome other than his transformations was the heat. The intense arousal that seemed to take over all other senses. From sunup to sundown the entire week before his transformations. The urge to fuck anything with a pulse that smelled even remotely attractive.

It was agonizing.

It was worse when he started dating. Once a month, he had to close himself off from his girlfriend for a week. Most of his relationships ended because his partner couldn’t understand and how was he supposed to explain it? How could he explain that he was a werewolf? They’d laugh at him and call him crazy. No one other than his family would understand.

Or so he thought.

Chris was in college when he met you his sophomore year in his economics class. You’d come to class only a moment before the bell rang and despite plenty of seats to choose from, you picked the one next to him. Chris had tried to focus on the lecture but your perfume was enticing. He was close to his heat that day and having such a warm body that smelled as alluring as you did was a horrible combination for him.

He had missed a week of classes after that, emailing his professor who was all too aware of Chris’ nature and understood. Chris’ heat was more intense than any he’d experienced before and he couldn’t keep images of you, the sweet girl who sat next to him once, out of his mind. He hated himself for fantasizing about you, when he didn’t even know your name.

When he returned to class, you were there, in the same spot you’d been before. Chris took his seat in a different spot in an effort to avoid having to look at you for the week’s worth of shame he felt. After the lecture, Chris had hurried out of class to make way to the fitness center for his break between classes until he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

Turning around, he was met with the sight of your smiling face and enchanting scent. ‘Fuck.’

You explained how you noticed he was gone and took notes for him just in case he was sick and then proceeded to hand over a folder full of detailed notes from lectures for the entire week he missed. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Here was a girl who didn’t know his name and she managed to take not only her own notes and complete her own assignments but she took time out of each day to copy her own notes to give to him.

Who did that? Chris was a flabbergasted mess, blushing profusely as he tried to decline your more than generous offer but you didn’t take no for an answer. It was the start of something Chris would come to cherish more than anything else. An unlikely friendship.

Sophomore year at university ended and summer break came. Chris went home to visit his family but kept in touch with you. He wasn’t sure if things would remain the same come junior year but he was pleasantly surprised to walk into his first class of the semester to find you already seated towards the back and pulling out your laptop.

That year was full of study dates at the student cafe, attending football games and cheering for the other team since your university’s team sucked. The holidays brought with it snow and Chris decided to invite you to spend Christmas with his family after he learned yours was going overseas until after the New Year. The drive to Chris’ family home proved difficult as it was only a few days before his heat.

That was the year the truth came out. Chris finally told you everything. He was ashamed but you surprised him even more by accepting him and reminding him that there are some things he can’t control. Chris knew right then that you were going to be a constant in his life. He leaned more on you after that, feeling grateful for the little things you did for him.

Your bond and friendship was made stronger for it.

After graduating, Chris landed a job in the city and was excited when you said you’d be joining him. You both went apartment hunting, agreeing that sharing an apartment was more cost effective than getting two separate places. You both found the perfect one close to both your jobs and quickly settled into a routine. The real challenge came when Chris’ first heat rolled around.

He had a much harder time controlling his urges when you were constantly around and so for the first year, you would spend a week in a hotel but soon that proved to be more than your budget would allow. You were lucky to meet someone at work, a female coworker who understood more than anyone else since her own brother was also a werewolf and she had the room to let you stay for a week.

This had been your routine for the last three years.

“You got everything?” Chris called as you carried your bags out of your room and into the living room where he was sitting on the couch, playing a racing game, his headset resting around his neck. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. Chris paused the game and tilted his head back to look at you standing behind him. “You sure?” he asked.

It wasn’t unlike you to forget things and Chris knew this. There were more than a handful of times you’d left for work only to return a few minutes later because you forgot something. It was an endearing trait you had and Chris liked to tease you about it.

“Yes, dad,” you jokingly said, tousling his dark curls. The nickname was meant to be mocking and joking but it always made something stir in his stomach when you said it. Chris would never admit it, even if you were his best friend, but the thought of you calling him daddy lingered in his mind, even long after his heat had passed.

Likewise, you’d never admit it to him but you often thought about adding the extra syllable to the name, if only to see his reaction. Chris wasn’t aware of it but you knew all about his… inclination towards the title. He’d let it slip one night while you were drinking at home, celebrating a promotion with a couple bottles of wine.

[flashback]

“It’s not that bad!” you said in protest as Chris laughed harder, cheeks red from both the action and from the alcohol. “Honestly?” he asked, his laughter subsiding for only a moment. You nodded, your own cheeks warm. “Then it’s not really a degradation kink, is it?” Chris asked.

“It is! But it also feeds into my praise kink,” you said, your filter long gone as you raised your half empty bottle of wine to your lips. It was your second one and both you and Chris had agreed to forego the glasses, opting to drink straight from the bottles.

Chris’ laughter started up again. “Praise kink? Like ‘ oh wow, good job sucking dick?’” he asked through laughs. You narrowed your eyes. “No,” you retorted. “It’s more like ‘you’re doing so well,’ or ‘you take me so well,’” you explained. Chris cocked his head. “So if I were to call you a ‘good little slut’ that would do it for you?”

His question was meant to be curious but you couldn’t control the way your walls clenched around nothing. ‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself as you felt your core heat up, knowing it wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault.

There was no denying that your best friend was hot. He’d been hitting the gym since before you met and had probably one of the best bodies you’d ever seen. He was insanely attractive with his strong biceps, muscular thighs and well formed ass. The term cake didn’t even begin to cover it with Chris.

Not to mention those dark curls and dimples that had you weak the moment you met him all those years ago in college. You’d been smitten with him long before even learning his name. And as time went on, you just fell deeper and deeper in love with your best friend.

You couldn’t help it. He was everything you wanted in a man. He ticked every box on your list. He was attractive, funny, smart, kind, and he made you feel safe and secure. He gave the best hugs and he was the clingiest person you’d ever met but you wouldn’t change a single thing about him. Not even the werewolf side of him and the heat that kicked you out once a week.

“Yeah,” you said finally, grabbing the bottle of wine from him and taking a swig. Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s not that bad,” he replied. “I like being called daddy so, who’s the real weirdo here?”

You froze mid sip, swallowing the wine thickly before your eyes settled on Chris who glanced back at you. “Daddy? Really?” you asked softly. He nodded as he reached for the bottle which you handed to him without a second thought. “Yeah. Weird, right?” he asked before taking a sip.

You leaned in, one hand resting on the back of the couch as you looked up into his face.

“Oh not at all,” you started as he brought the bottle down, resting it on his thigh. “Daddy.”

Chris’ eyes snapped up to meet yours, darkening slightly when he noticed the smirk on your face. The two of you stared at one another before he shook his head. “Don’t play with me,” he said, his voice thick. 

“You’re playing with fire.”

[present day]

The topic changed quickly after that and the next morning you woke with a headache and the knowledge that your best friend had a daddy kink. He of course didn’t remember a thing. Not the sultry stare off or how you almost made the mistake of kissing him that night.

“When are you leaving?” Chris asked, pulling you from your thoughts of the past. He’d taken your hand from his hair and was inspecting your palm, gently running the tips of his fingers over your skin. Something that normally calmed you down but with the memory fresh in your mind, it was having another effect on you entirely.

“Kara should be here soon,” you replied, gently pulling your hand from his grip and picking up your bags to move them towards the door. Chris said nothing, instead looking at the tv. 

He’d never admit it but he had half a mind to ask you not to go. To instead ask you to stay but he knew if you stayed, he’d be unable to control his urges. 

For the last year, he’d been having very intense fantasies about pinning you against the nearest surface and fucking you. Even worse, he had vivid fantasies of breeding you. About fucking you raw, knotting your warm cunt, and filling it with his hot cum.

The thought of his cock buried deep inside your walls as he emptied his balls and then his cock swelling so none of it could escape occupied his mind most of the time when his heat approached. The wolf in him wanted nothing more than to breed you, turn you into his little cum dumpster and pump you full of his cum, hoping it would take and get you pregnant.

Chris knew it was his animalistic instincts, wanting to mate and continue the bloodline. He’d been able to control these urges for the most part. He still masturbated to the thought of breeding you, hiding his shame for a few days. He knew it was wrong to fantasize about you like that but he also knew he couldn’t control what the wolf thought but he could control what he did physically.

“Now you’re sure you have everything?” he asked. You nodded, looking down at your bags. “I’m sure,” you replied. A buzzing interrupted you and you gave your roommate a sheepish smile, moving to answer the intercom. “Come on up,” you said, pressing the button when Kara identified herself.

Chris got up and walked over to the door. It only took a couple minutes for Kara to reach the door, knocking when she did. You opened it and smiled at her, having just finished putting your shoes on. “Hey,” you greeted your coworker who smiled back.

“All ready?” Kara asked. Chris watched as you nodded and started to lift your bags. Kara taking a couple of them. “I’ll see you in about a week,” you said, turning to Chris who stepped down into the entry, hands in his pockets. 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, just reheat them. Do not cook,” you instructed and Chris rolled his eyes. “You act like I can’t cook,” he mused and you raised your brows. “Have you eaten anything you’ve ever made?” you asked, jokingly. Chris nudged you playfully.

“Make sure to drink water and please do not destroy anything,” you said, holding your hands together in a silent prayer. Chris rolled his eyes, pulling his hands from his pockets and pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered.

Chris inhaled slowly. He loved the scent of your perfume. It was a scent he’d grown very fond of. His arms tightened around you. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want you to leave. He wanted you to stay but you both knew if you did, he might not be able to control himself.

“See you in a week,” you said softly, giving him a small squeeze. Chris reluctantly let go of you, forcing a smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Take care of her,” he said to Kara who sent him a sympathetic smile. “Of course,” she answered. “You take care of yourself too,” she added.

You grabbed the last bag, slinging it over your shoulder and looked back at Chris one last time, giving him an apologetic smile. He waved as you crossed the threshold into the hall and just like that you were gone for a week.

Another week of an empty apartment. Another week of hell without you.

Chris returned to his game, his heart not really in it as he half-assed his way through the campaign before logging off and shutting the tv down. He went to his room to try and get some work done but found that he couldn’t focus.

He was getting restless and he knew one of two things that could help.

He changed into some of his workout gear, grabbing his headphones, phone, and water bottle, and exited the apartment to head to the building’s gym. He usually could push through an hour workout and it usually managed to take the edge off.

He followed his usual routine, stretching, some light cardio followed by weights and then a walk to cool down. As he was on his walk, the door to the gym opened and another tenant came in. Chris had seen her before. She lived on the fourteenth floor. She had recently changed her hair from blonde to a medium brown with highlights. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail and was dressed in a black sports bra and black leggings.

She looked up to where Chris was, smiling shyly at him as she made her way over to one of the bicycle machines. Chris returned the smile and looked down at the machine controls. He had about ten minutes left on his walk and then he could hit the showers and head back to his apartment and it would be dinner time.

He tried not to notice the scent of the other tenant’s perfume or the way he could smell  sweat starting to permeate the air. He closed his eyes, keeping his hands on the rails as he walked, willing time to move faster. ‘Eight minutes,’ he told himself, peeking at the timer.

He looked up and made eye contact with the woman who had gotten off the bicycle to fill her bottle. She was looking directly at him and Chris couldn’t control the way his body reacted. Heat radiated throughout his body, settling in the pit of his stomach, his dick twitching in his pants.

‘Come on,’ he scolded himself. ‘She’s looking at you. It’s not like she’s flirting. Calm the fuck down.’

Chris looked back up, finding she was still staring at him. ‘Shit.’ He glanced at the timer and saw he had five minutes left. ‘Fuck this. I’m done anyway,’ he told himself as he pushed the stop button. He couldn’t risk popping a boner in the gym simply because a woman looked at him.

He’d shower back at the apartment.

He sprayed a paper towel and quickly wiped down the machine before grabbing his things and heading for the door. He pushed open the door and exited quickly, heading to the elevator and pressing the call button. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other.

He could hear footsteps, and silently prayed for the elevator to arrive sooner. He let out a breath he forgot he was holding as the doors dinged and opened. He stepped into the small room, waving his card over the reader and pressing the button for his floor.

As the doors started to close, a hand shot out to stop them and Chris internally cursed as the woman stepped onto the elevator. He forced a smile, moving into the corner as she waved her card, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor.

The door slowly slid shut, closing them both in and Chris stared at the counter above the doors, ignoring the woman completely. Her floor would come before his. He just had to be patient.

“Hey,” a soft voice said and Chris knew she was speaking to him. He turned his head to find her looking at him. “Hi,” he replied. “I’ve seen you around a few times,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. Chris nodded. “I’ve lived here for a few years,” he admitted.

‘Come on, come on,’ he thought impatiently as the counter continued to rise. “I’m new to the area,” she said suddenly. “Are you from around here?” she asked. Chris nodded wordlessly, keeping his gaze on the numbers over the elevator doors.

“Maybe you could show me around some time,” she offered, moving closer. ‘Fuck,’ he cursed mentally. She was close enough that he could smell the arousal wafting off her. ‘No, no, no,’ he told himself. The moment her hand touched his arm, Chris jumped just as the doors opened on the thirteenth floor.

‘Fuck this’ he thought and pushed past as someone else stepped onto the elevator and he walked down the hall, heading for the stairwell. He’d rather walk than be trapped in a steel box with a horny woman this close to his heat.

Once he finally reached his floor, he made sure the floor was deserted as he headed for the door, letting himself in. He could breathe easily as he kicked his shoes off and headed past the kitchen, dropping his  water bottle on the counter as he headed for his room.

He stripped and got into the shower, turning the water on, letting the stream heat up and wash his body. Once he was done showering, he got out, dressed and sat down at his computer, putting his headset on and turning on some music and getting a headstart on some work.

When his stomach growled, he cursed, pulling his headphones off and got up, exiting his room and making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed one of the glass containers from the fridge and pulled it out to inspect it. ‘Lasagna,’ he noted with a smile as he took the lid off and scooped the contents out onto a plate to heat it up.

Once the food was hot, he carefully pulled the plate out and took a seat at the kitchen counter, grabbing a fork as he did and started to eat. He was eternally grateful for you, making food for him when you left for a week. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, he could. He just preferred it when you did.

As he chewed, he wondered what you were up to with Kara. Were you eating dinner as well?

“I can’t believe he still thinks you’re a lesbian,” Kara said, giggling as you took a sip of your wine. “I’ve told him numerous times I’m not,” you replied. “I don’t understand why he still thinks that.”

Kara shook her head. “Who knows,” she replied, glancing down at her empty glass. “Oh, time for a refill!”

She got up, waiting for you to down the rest of your wine and took your empty glass to the kitchen to refill them both. The two of you had ordered pizza, neither one of you wanted to cook, especially after you had cooked an entire week's worth of meals for Chris.

“What do you think Chris is up to?” Kara asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Oh, he’s probably playing video games,” you replied as Kara poured your favorite wine into your glass and placed the bottle back in the fridge. She walked back over with both glasses, handing yours over as she took a seat.

“So,” she started, taking a sip of her wine. “Let me see this presentation,” she added and you set your glass down, rushing over to your laptop bag and pulling it out, moving back to sit on the couch, setting your laptop on the coffee table.

Kara continued sipping on her wine as you opened your laptop and logged on. You signed into and pulled up the presentation powerpoint you’d been working on all week for Monday’s meeting. It wasn’t anything fancy but you were pretty proud of it.

Kara looked over it, complimenting your skills and work, making small comments on certain parts. “I really like this,” she said, pointing at one of the slides. “You really made a good point here.” You felt pride swell in your chest until your laptop dinged, a small notification indicating your battery was low.

“I swear, the battery on this thing dies so fast,” you groaned as you got up and headed over to your bag to grab the charger. You unzipped the pocket only to find your charger wasn’t there. “What the…” you trailed off, starting to check all the pockets of your laptop bag but no charger in sight.

“What’s wrong?” Kara asked. “I can’t find my charger,” you replied. “Did you bring it?” Kara asked, getting up from her seat and walking over. “I thought I did,” you replied, feeling annoyed and angry with yourself for forgetting when Chris had asked you multiple times if you had everything.

“You can use mine,” Kara said but you shook your head. “You have a Macbook,” you reminded her. “This is an HP.” Kara swore under her breath. “I gotta go back home,” you said softly. Kara looked up at you. “Are you sure?” she asked. You nodded.

“I need that charger,” you answered. “Especially if I’m gonna be here for a week.” Kara nodded and got up. “I’ll drive you,” she said and you shook your head. “You’ve had like a whole bottle,” you reminded her. “I’ve only had a glass. I’ll drive. You stay here. I’m just gonna run back and get it and then I’ll be back.” Kara nodded as she grabbed her keys and handed them to you.

“Be careful,” she said as you grabbed your purse, making sure you had your phone. You headed to the door, slipping your shoes and coat on. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you called and exited her apartment, making your way to the elevator and pushing the button.

You fished your phone out of your purse, opened Chris’ message thread and sent him a text.

You: i did what i said i wouldn’t. I forgot my laptop charger 💀

You: i’m on my way back to get it.

You: i’ll be quick. Just in and out

Placing your phone back in your purse, you stepped onto the elevator, pushing the button for the garage and waited as the doors shut and the lift descended, heading for the basement. You found Kara’s car, unlocking it and getting in.

The drive to your apartment didn’t take long and you pulled into the designated parking space in your garage, parking and shutting off the engine. You got out, leaving your purse in the car and locking it. ‘In and out, Y/N,’ you reminded yourself as you headed for the elevator.

The ride up to your floor was quiet, the sun had set and most people were already out enjoying the Friday nightlife. The elevator dinged, doors opening as it arrived on your floor and you stepped off the lift, heading for your apartment door.

You unlocked it, letting yourself in. You expected to see Chris but didn’t see him perched on the couch playing games. ‘Maybe he’s in his room,’ you told yourself as you walked through the apartment and to your room.

Turning on the light, you saw the culprit lying innocently on your desk and you glared at it, walking over to grab it and headed towards the door. As you exited your room, you heard Chris call out.

You turned the knob and looked into his room. “I thought I heard you, he said with a chuckle. “I sent you a text,” you answered, peering into his room. He was sitting at his computer, headphones hanging around his neck as he finished whatever he was working on.

“Forget something?” he asked, sounding amused at your forgetfulness. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “I forgot my laptop charger,” you answered. Chris turned to look at you. “It’s always something,” he joked and you smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you said, chuckling. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.” Chris smiled as he removed his headphones from around his neck, looking over at you. “It’s fine,” he said softly, moving to get up. You pushed the door open further as he approached you. “Do you need anything before I leave?” you asked.

Chris opened his mouth to respond but a sudden strong smell hit him. It was like someone had opened a bottle of vanilla extract and placed it under his nose. He knew that smell all too well. It made every nerve in his body burn. It made his pupils enlarge, his throat burn, and an intense heat form in the pit of his stomach. Lust and desire burned, the line blurring into the primal need to mate.

You hadn’t been careful enough. Neither of you had but then again this had never happened before. How didn't this come up? How hadn’t this happened before? Three years living together and this had never, ever happened? Either you were very lucky or you were always away when it happened.

Chris’ fingers curled into his palm, knuckles turning white as his nails dug into his skin in an attempt to ground himself but what normally worked had never been tested in this situation before.

Chris was about to start his heat and you… you were ovulating.

You watched as your best friend froze. “Chris?” you asked softly. You were surprised when he looked at you, his eyes darkening. “You need to leave,” he said, his voice low and dangerously so. “Chris? What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a step forward.

“Don’t!” your best friend growled. You froze, eyes widening. He’d never spoken to you like that before. “Chris you’re starting to worry me, what’s wr—” before you could finish your question, your best friend had closed the distance and grabbed you, pinning you against the wall next to the door.

“Chris!” you gasped, hands moving to his shoulders, gripping his shirt. “What’s gotten into you?”

His heat was close but it wasn’t supposed to start yet. He’d always been good about controlling his urges so what was different this time?

“I’m sorry,” Chris said softly, his head drooping as he struggled against his own urges. “This has never happened before.” You tried to push him away but he was much stronger than you were. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve always had a hold of yourself,” you continued. “You’re ovulating,” Chris interrupted. Your eyes widened.

“H-how did you know?”

Chris chuckled dryly. “I can smell it,” he answered. One of his hands moved up to your cheek as he raised his head. “I can smell it and it’s driving me crazy,” he continued. You felt one of his knees wedge between your thighs, pressing against your core. “It’s making me want to do things to you.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. ‘Do things? What kind of things?’

“L-like what?” you whispered, swallowing thickly.

Chris leaned in, nuzzling against your cheek as his lips ghosted over your skin, stopping near your ear. “Would you be mad if I said exactly what I wanted to do to you?” he asked softly. You shook your head. Though you wouldn’t say it, you welcomed it, wondering just what was going on in his head.

“Tell me,” you replied.

You felt Chris nuzzle into your neck, sniffing eagerly. “I want to rip those cute lace panties of yours and stuff that sweet little pussy with my cock.” As if punctuating his words, Chris leaned in, pressing his thigh more firmly against your core.

You let out an involuntary whimper, causing him to groan in your ear. “I want to…” he trailed off. “No, I need to pin you down on the bed,” he said, making you gasp as he pressed his thigh even harder against you. 

“Pin you down and fuck you until I fill you with so much cum. I need to breed you.,” he continued, lips ghosting over your skin. “Breed you like you’re the one in heat.” You let out another gasp, feeling one of his hands move to grab your ass, sneaking under your skirt.

“And of course you had to wear a skirt, didn’t you?” he growled. “I bet you knew it would drive me crazy. That I’d be able to smell everything.” You moaned into his ear as his hand continued to knead your ass, nails digging into your flesh 

“I’ll bet you planned this, didn’t you? I bet your laptop charger isn’t even here,” he scoffed as if it wasn’t lying on the floor in the hallway where you’d dropped it. “Chris,” you whined, moaning as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. “Oh shit,” he groaned.

“Say my name like that again,” he dared you. “Say that again, baby. Moan my name and I’ll take you right now.”

A thick silence fell over the two of you as Chris pulled back, eyes searching your face, neither one speaking nor making a move until you finally cleared your throat and spoke. “Chris, we can’t,” you started, looking between his eyes. “W-we’re friends,” you added, letting out a yelp as Chris quickly backed up to create enough space to turn you around to face the wall before pinning you against it, pressing his erection into your back.

“You feel that?” he asked, grinding against you. “You feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me since that first day in economics?” he asked. “I’ve wanted you ever since you sat next to me. Wanted to fuck you raw and pump you full.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,” he growled in your ear. Moaning, you pushed back against him, earning another deep growl.

“Don’t play with me,” he snapped. “I’m not playing…” you trailed off. “Daddy.” The name caused a chain reaction. Chris wrapped an arm around your waist from behind, lifting you easily and carrying you over to his bed where he deposited you face down.

You tried to turn over but he was quick to stop you, pushing your skirt up to expose your lace covered core. He quickly grabbed the material and tugged, ripping it easily. “Chris!” you gasped but the next second you were crying out as he landed a slap to your ass.

“Don’t speak until I tell you to,” he growled. You felt his fingers glide up and down your slit, gathering your arousal before pushing into your cunt. You let out a groan as he started to slowly pump his fingers before removing them. “Chest to the bed,” Chris instructed. “But keep your ass up.”

You did as he said, lowering your shoulders until your chest rested against the mattress. In that time, Chris removed his hat, tossing it aside as he knelt on the mattress behind you, hands grabbing your hips. He leaned closer, taking a deep inhale. “Fuck, I’m gonna ruin this pussy,” he growled. His tongue ran along your slit, from your clit up and back down, toying with the bundle of nerves, his nose bumping against your entrance.

Your fingers dug into the sheets as you moaned, pushing back against his face. Chris pulled back delivering a sharp smack to your thigh. “Hold still,” he barked. “Do that again and I’ll fuck your hole and not let you cum.”

You whined, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. Chris pushed you onto your side before flipping you onto your back, grabbing your hips and pulling your core to his face, burying it in your pussy, tongue ravishing your clit. Your thighs tried closing but Chris wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he licked at and sucked on your clit, drawing you closer to your climax.

“Shit, Chris!” you gasped, your hand moving to comb through his curls.

“M’gonna cum.”

Chris didn’t relent, flicking his tongue against your clit until you came undone under him, crying out as your orgasm crashed over you. You tried to shy away from his mouth but he held you still, never stopping as he drew you to another orgasm.

As you came down from the second, he finally let go of your thighs, pulling back to wipe his chin and taking ahold of the collar of his shirt and yanking it off over his head, tossing it aside. “I want you to ride my tongue but it’ll have to wait,” he said in a husky voice as his hands moved to undo his jeans, unbuckling but not removing his belt before unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper of his pants.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand and pulling you up when you took it. “Open your mouth,” he added as he pushed his jeans down around his thighs. You did as he asked, keeping your gaze on his face as he pulled his erection free from the confines of his underwear.

“Keep your mouth open for me,” he added, taking his cock in his hand, giving himself a couple strokes before guiding the tip past your lips, the weight heavy on your tongue. His free hand moved to your hair, taking a fistful and guiding your head. “Get to work, baby girl,” he murmured.

“Show daddy how you use your mouth.”

Your scalp stung, eyes watered and your throat hurt by the time Chris finally pulled your mouth off him. He’d forced his cock down your throat more than once and even fucked your throat a few times, making you gag. What little makeup you had on was ruined, tear stained cheeks and swollen lips but to Chris you were stunning.

“Lay back for me,” he ordered, discarding his pants and underwear, watching as you pulled your top off and threw it aside, scooting into the middle of his bed. Chris crawled over you, taking your lips in a searing kiss as his hands pushed your knees apart to accommodate him.

Your hands moved to his hair as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I want to watch your face as I enter you,” he growled. “Watch your eyes roll back into your head as I fill you with my cock.”

You moaned loudly as he pushed into you, stretching your cunt with his girth, inch by inch until he was buried inside your walls, groaning about the warmth and how tight you felt. It was taking all his strength to not start slamming into you immediately.

“I’m gonna give you a few minutes to adjust and then I’m gonna hold you down against this mattress and fuck you until you cum,” he gave you a shallow thrust, enjoying the gasp that escaped you. “And then I’m going to flip you over, ass up and fuck you until I cum and fill this pussy. You understand me?”

You nodded silently but that wasn’t good enough for him. Chris grabbed your face. “When I ask you a question, you answer me with your words. Don’t make me say it again.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “Yes, what?” he asked, tilting his head. “Yes, daddy,” you whispered. Chris let go and smirked down at you. “Good girl.”

No sooner than the words left his lips, his hands were on your hips, holding them in place as he started to pull out and snap his hips against yours, driving his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Your thighs tightened around his waist, prompting him to growl and halt his movements.

You were about to ask what the problem was when he took your ankles and placed your legs over his shoulders. The new position allowed you to feel more, moaning louder when he pounded into you harder. “Oh holy shit,” you gasped, feeling the head of his cock hit the soft gummy spot that had you seeing stars.

“Right there?” he asked, angling his hips and hitting the same spot, making you cry out.

He repeatedly hit the same spot over and over, moving his hand to rub circles against your clit with his thumb. “That’s it princess,” he huffed. “Cum all over daddy’s cock.” You let out a mewl, walls fluttering as you came. One of your hands moved to grab Chris’ wrist, trying to ground yourself as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled over you.

With each pass over your clit with his thumb, Chris watched your body seize up and chuckled before pulling his cock from your abused hole.

He quickly turned you over, pulling your hips up and taking himself in his hand, stroking a couple times before pushing back into you. This position allowed for all of his cock to fit inside you, making you moan into the sheets, fingers curling into the fabric.

Chris took your hips in his hands, pulling out and snapping forward, his hips hitting your ass with each thrust. He set a relentless and merciless pace, grunting with effort as he slammed into you. The sheets muffled your cries and screams of pleasure as he allowed his animalistic urges to take over.

‘Breed. Breed. Breed,’ the beast in his mind said. Chris let out a low groan, almost like a growl as he pounded into you. Leaning over your back, he slammed his hips into you, burying his cock deep inside your walls before he started to roll his hips, earning a deep moan from you.

“Once I’m done with you,” he panted. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’ll stay here and I’m going to fuck you raw every night. Pump you full of cum and breed you. Fill you with so much cum it’ll have to take. Fuck you until I get you pregnant and then you’ll be mine.”

You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. You felt his hand in your hair, fingers curling into a fist before he pulled back, lifting your face from the sheets and allowing your moans to fill the room. “You want that, baby? You want daddy to turn you into his little breeding bitch?”

“Oh fuck, daddy yes!” you whimpered. “Please fill me!” Chris growled, letting go of your hair and moving his hand to your shoulder, pinning your chest down. You turned your head to the side, each thrust drawing a whimper from you.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you baby girl, cum inside you until it spills out and then I’ll just push it all back in,” he grunted. “Don’t want to waste a single drop.” Your hand moved to grab the wrist of his hand that was pressed against the mattress near your head.

“That’s right,” he groaned. “You’re mine. All mine and no one else’s.” You lifted your head, managing to turn and make eye contact with him. “I’ve always been yours, daddy,” you breathed. Chris growled, pressing his chest against your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

You moaned, walls clenching around his cock as he rammed into you over and over. He lifted his head, lips close to your ear. “Mine,” he growled. “Mine, mine, mine!”

You pushed back to meet his thrusts and screamed as he slammed into you one last time, groaning into your ear as he came, releasing thick strands of hot cum into your cunt. You moaned as more and more cum spilled into your pussy. You had never known a man to have that much cum but then again, Chris wasn’t an ordinary man.

At the same time he was emptying his load into you, his cock started to swell inside, lodging itself in your walls. “Chris,” you whimpered. “What’s—” You heard him shush you, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “It’s normal. It’s my body’s way of ensuring it takes.”

“Ensuring what takes?”

Chris chuckled, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Ensuring my cum gets you pregnant,” he answered. You let out an uneasy chuckle. “And if it doesn’t take?” you replied. Chris hummed and pressed several more kisses against your shoulder before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep trying then.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2023

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt2.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Goth reader #self indulgent fic #fanfic writer #tumblr writer #she blinded me with science #part 2 #whiskeyghoul

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 25 - Release the Ice Bath Thirst Traps

Ok guys! here we go!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED (sorry for those who have asked)

For the very end of the chapter, there's something I made up for Singapore (this fact is made up just for the story)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, inbox messages, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The moment you stepped out of the cool, airconditioned car, your team shirt suddenly clung to you. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead as you made your way through the paddock. Max had warned you that Singapore and Qatar would be impossibly hot: you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. 

All you wanted to do now was go back to the hotel where it was ice cold. You wiped your brow with your forearm as you got closer to the garage. Giant fans welcomed you with air. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it would do. You were already on your third water today, smartly forgoing the Red Bull that was bound to make you dehydrated. 

You stood next to Max as the team had a quick debrief. The heat was definitely getting to you, as you really couldn’t remember a word that anyone said. You blink your eyes as they were burning with sweat. Your older teammate could only offer you a remorseful smile. 

Max could see that the heat wasn’t going too well with you. You had told him beforehand that some females, including you, just couldn’t regulate their temperatures as well as males could. Women often gave off more body heat than men did as well. This caused the Dutchman to send out a group text, warning the other drivers to look out for you. 

You groaned as you tried to put on your fireproofs and race suit. The more you moved around, the more you seemed to sweat. You kept your suit tied around your waist. You definitely wouldn’t be putting it on until you had to be in the car.

Max was already zipped up by the time you returned. 

“Here.” He handed you another ice cold water bottle. 

“Thank you Max,” you croaked out, making the Dutchman look a little weary at you. You just smiled back. 

“Once we qualify, we can go to the ice baths.” 

Max would have thought that you would hate the idea since you always showered with the water at a boiling temperature. Yet, he could see that you were slightly “warming up” to the idea of a bath full of ice (pun intended). 

From the corner, Mitch watched as you poured the remainder of your water on your head. She had requested a few ice packs to be ready for you when you arrived, but sadly they weren’t completely frozen. She’d make sure that you’d have them for tomorrow. 

Surprisingly, your laps were great with you qualifying in P3, behind Charles once again. Halfway through, you had opened your visor, trying to get some air through your sweaty helmet. Your water pouch had to be refilled multiple times between sessions. Yet, your trainer advised you to try not to drink so much during the race, as they wouldn’t be able to refill. 

Mitch had come over to your car as soon as you were back in. You gave her a big smile as you started to get out of the car. 

“How are you doing kid?” 

You took a moment to look at her outfit. Where a pantsuit should have been, there was a Red Bull Tank top and some very loose pants. You were jealous that she got to wear those while you were stuck with skin tight clothes. 

You gasped a bit for some cooler air once your helmet was off. 

“I’m good. Max said something about an ice bath?” 

Your eyes were faintly glimmering with hope for something to cool you down. Mitch smiled at you. 

“Yep. I put a change of clothes on your bed, but I think you need some help?” 

You nodded at her question before heading to your room. You didn’t want to waste any time getting out of your suit. 

The zipper came off smoothly. Mitch definitely saw that you had sweated through your fireproofs and felt terrible. Surely, there was something that the team could do. 

You giggled. “I’ve probably already lost a few pounds.” 

Mitch rolled her eyes at the terrible joke. If anything, there was truth in that statement. She had seen the numbers after you got weighed and you had lost a lot. 

“Well, there will be lots of food for you to fill up on.” 

“I hope we’re not going to go over the catering budget again.” 

Mitch let out a snort as she helped you out of the sticky fire proofs. She pulled out a bag and handed it to you. You grinned at the sight of the limited clothes in the bag. 

“I didn’t think that you’d want to go out in full bikini, so there’s a sports bra and some spandex shorts. I’ll wait for you by your door and will walk you to the back.” 

Once Mitch left, you quickly peeled the rest of your clothes off. The sports bra and spandex were all black, and covered everything that needed to be. You said a quick thank you to her in your mind as you got dressed. Your skin was definitely cooler with no clothes to stick to, but you were still sweating. 

You swung the door open. 

“Ready to go?” you asked, giving her the bag back with your other clothes. They would definitely need to be washed by tomorrow. 

You followed the woman to the back, going through multiple doors. Once she opened the door to the little outside area, your eyes landed on Max, who was already soaking. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back on the tub. 

Yours was a bit more like a giant trough, filled to the brim with ice. 

Mitch spoke as you got closer. “We thought that you’d need more ice, hence why yours is bigger. It’s also more insulated with the metal than the plastic. Do not stay in more than 15 minutes. We don’t need your temperature dropping too much.” 

You tossed your foot over and gingerly place a toe in, just to get a feel for it. The temperature was perfect and you found yourself sinking into the ice. 

“You think it’s ok if I dunk my head?” you asked Max. 

He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. 

“Go for it kid.” 

You held your breath as you sunk below the ice layer. Your brain went a bit fuzzy as the freezing water went over your scalp. You let your eyes open under the water, just to feel the cold and relieve the stinging. 

Once you came up gasping for air, Max finally looked over. 

“Had fun?” He laughed a bit. 

You lovingly flipped him off. Your hands came and brushed your hair back. You looked over at Max’s plastic pool, and saw ducks in his. You pouted once you realized that you didn’t have any. 

“What’s wrong kid?” the Dutchman asked at the sight of your pout. 

You murmured, “I didn’t get any ducks.” 

Max rolled his eyes before gently throwing one of his ducks into your pool. Your eyes immediately lit up as you began to play with it. Max just watched as you found so much joy in something so little. You felt his gaze and you guessed that you needed to say something. 

“I never had a rubber duck growing up. It’s so cute.” 

You held the little yellow thing in your hands, right in front of your face. Max had a sad smile as he watched. 

“You have plans for after the race?” 

You sighed as you let the duck rest on the water, not breaking the surface tension. 

“Logan, Oscar, and Lando wanted to go see the city and I said I’d join them. Something about needing a good drive around Singapore.” 

Max snorted. Of course the group of three would want to invite you. The door opened, which had the two of you whip your heads to it. 

“Oh, hey David,” you greeted the photographer. You sank back into the ice, still enjoying the cold. Max groaned when he realized what David was there for. 

You smirked as you looked over at your teammate. “Ready to do some thirst traps Max?” 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave that for Ferrari and Lando.” 

You giggled at the statement. “Yeah, I would rather not show much on screen. Taken woman and all.” 

That time, Max laughed. 

David looked apologetic. “Just need to get some pictures. Trust me, this isn’t my favorite.” 

He took some pictures while you and Max tried to look as non-sexy as possibly. You definitely tried to sneak some goofy facial expressions in. You kept your whole body submerged and thankfully the ice kept anyone from seeing much below your neck. David quickly thanked the two of you for your time before leaving. 

“Instagram is going to have a field with those.” 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing splish, splash - racers in the ice baths

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.nation, rookie&maxie, landonorris, and 846,294 others

redbullfan what the heck is this?? this was not the thirst traps we wanted

maximillian he's giving "moto-moto likes you"

y/n.nation everyone is focused on the lack of thirst-traps, I'm just focused on the amount of ducks that Red Bull has

oscarpiastri what are your duck's names?

landonorris probably can't top cold, as, and fuck y/n.89 max's is James Pond and mine is Duck Norris landonorris my son?? y/n.89 no - something american so you won't understand logansargeant DUCK NORRIS RAWWRRRRR

rookie&co BOOOOOO TOMATOES TOMATOES TOMATOES

f1fan I know admin is hiding the thirst traps

charles_leclerc no thirst traps?

maxverstappen1 we leave that to you and the Spaniard y/n.89 I mean, I could be sexy if I wanted carlossainz55 sure chica, sure y/n.89 who is single? and who is taken maxverstappen1 HA

iamred_iamyellow ducks, ducks, ducks, ducks

You snorted at the Dutchman’s bluntness. 

The timer on the wall signaled that it was time to get out. You let out a giant groan as you stood and climbed over. 

Mitch came in with two big towels. One for you and one for Max. Your skin was finally covered with goosebumps instead of sweat. You quickly had an idea as you walked back to put normal clothes on. 

“You think I could dunk my head in before I get in the car? I think my wet hair will keep my head cooler if I do. It’s something about heat escaping through your scalp when you overheat. If it’s covered by my balaclava and my helmet, it can’t escape.” 

Mitch finished your thought process. 

“So if you wet your hair, your scalp can be cooler longer.” 

You nodded before heading into your room. 

“Ah, Max wanted me to hand this to you.” 

It was a normal Red Bull polo, which made your brows pinch in confusion. But, you shrugged and took it anyways. 

However, once you started changing you realized that the shirt was almost three sizes too big. Yet, you grinned as you put it on. Since it was oversized, it wasn’t sticking to your skin as you started to sweat a little. 

The crew laughed a bit at the sight of the giant shirt almost swallowing you. But, you didn’t care about that. You were significantly cooler and you could follow the last debrief of the day. 

Sunday night came and went super-fast, and you were thankful this time around. You were definitely more cool that you had been for qualifying. Mitch had sent the ice vest to you early, so you didn’t start off too warm. With your hair being dunked in ice water, your head was cooler during the race. The little bit of breeze that you got helped as well. 

That bit really helped you stay focused as you gained another podium. Surprisingly, this was Max’s first time winning in Singapore. Adrian really made sure that the car could keep up with the street race and not end it like 2023. Charles came in a very close second. 

Charles and Max poured their champagne bottles onto your overheating body. Halfway through you needed to sit down. Your body was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and hot as the minutes passed by. You were kind of held by Max as the three of you left the podium. 

The Dutchman had a worried grip on your bicep as he held you upright. He needed to get you some water, quickly. You thankfully weren’t on the verge of passing out, but he knew you were thirsty. He heard your radio toward the end where you were just begging for a drink. Max couldn’t imagine being without water, but he normally didn’t drink as much while racing. 

He gently set you on a seat in the garage, before turning away to get some things. Your eyes were closed as you sat right under a fan. Max soon returned with a cooling towel and three bottles of water.

The cold of the towel made your eyes open as he put it on your neck. Your race suit was tied around your waist and your fireproof shift had been swapped for a thin, random oversized shirt. Max gently cooed as you leaned into the cold water bottle on your face. 

“There you go,” he whispered as you finally were able to take big gulps of water. He unscrewed one of the other bottles before he lightly tipped it over your head. Streams of water ran down your face as you finished off the water bottle. 

The team was glancing at the two of you. In the back of their minds, they were worried about how you’d react to Qatar, which was way worse. However, they held on to some hope that it would be cooler than last year due to it being moved later on the race calendar. 

Your water bottle was on in moments. You flashed a smile at your worried teammate. 

“Thanks,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath after guzzling. 

Mitch came from the back with another woman who was holding a device. Mitch kneeled next to Max and put her hand on your knee. 

“Hey kid, we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Brianna here is going to take your blood pressure and other vitals just to be safe.” 

You only nodded and leaned your head against the wall. The medic made quick work and started to strap the device on. Max stood up and walked a bit away, just to give everyone some space. His eyes caught glimpses of orange, red, and blue and he could only guess who it was. He took one more glance at the situation before walking out of the garage. 

Logan, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were waiting patiently by the opening. They all looked up once they heard Max walk out, but deflated when they realized it wasn’t the Red Bull driver they were looking for. 

“Is she doing okay?” Charles asked first, concerning the other three boys. 

Lando put his arms out, stopping any conversation. 

“What does he mean by ‘is she doing ok?’ Where’s Y/n?” the Brits voice going more high pitched the more he started to panic. 

Max sighed. “She’s just having a hard time with the heat. She got super dehydrated this weekend and really couldn’t get over it.” 

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. 

“They’re just checking vitals I think, to make sure everything is ok.” 

Logan sighed loudly in concern. He definitely knew what it was like, getting memories from Qatar 2023. 

The American asked, “Is she going to race in Qatar?” 

Max blinked slowly before answering. “She wants to. The team is really hoping that it’s going to be significantly cooler than last year. And they know to get her started on hydration much earlier. I talked to her physio and she thinks that Y/n’s diet also wasn’t right.” 

Oscar raised his eyebrows. “Diet?” 

Max nodded. “Yeah. She was apparently eating foods that might dehydrate the body, like lots of salt. Her physio said that she’ll start her on more fruits and water heavy foods way in advance. And drinks as well, more electrolytes.” 

Lando nodded in agreement. “I remember when I had to do that. They took away my chips for like….months.” 

They had been so into talking that they didn’t notice that you had walked out, now changed into shorter shorts and a bigger top (one that Charles strangely recognized as one of his brother’s shirts). 

“Are we ready to go?” you asked, getting closer. “Lando is driving because I am done for today.” 

The boys looked a bit guilty at your tired face. 

Oscar spoke up first. “We don’t have to go driving if you don’t want to. We know you’re probably tired.” 

You waved your hands and made a sound. “Nope, I’m good. Nothing will ever beat the one time I spent an entire summer on a farm in the middle of Texas.” 

You pretended to shiver at the thought, making the group laugh. 

Charles suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place (well, second because he was worried about you after the podium). He handed you a small bag. Opening it up, you saw a bright colored water bottle. You raised your eyebrow in question. 

The Monegasque smirked. “From you know how.” 

Your face practically melted at the loving gesture as you looked at it. Lando, Oscar, and Logan suddenly got the memo. 

Logan wrapped an arm around you first. “Aww such a sweet little boyfriend.” 

Oscar looked at Lando. 

“Where’s my water bottle?” he mocked whined, batting his eyelashes at the Brit. Your rolled your eyes. 

Lando put his arms around the Aussie. “Don’t worry love, it’s in the car.” 

The Brit puckered his lips before pretending to lean in. You just watched with an annoyed grin on your face. You looked at Max and Charles and winked, the Dutchman and Monegasque getting what you were about to do. You shrugged Logan’s arm off before taking a step toward your teammate. 

But, you purposefully made your knees buckle and fell into Max and Charles’s waiting arms. Lando and Oscar shut up quickly, before yelling that you needed help. Except that they heard your giggles as Max put you back on your feet. 

“I was just kidding.” 

The trio huffed. 

Logan murmured, “That was not funny.” 

Charles snorted. “Oh but it was. Should have seen your faces.” 

Your giggled died out before you asked, “Are we ready to go? I think I’ll melt if I stand out here for any longer.” 

Lando flicked your forehead. “We were just waiting on you.” 

The four of you said your goodbyes to Max and Charles before heading to the parking lot. Somehow, Logan got his hands on a Jeep to take the four of you somewhere. And, he was even able to get the top off. And because he claimed it was an all American brand, Logan begged Lando to let him drive it. Lando reluctantly handed over the keys. 

You claimed earlier that you needed shotgun, because “men can’t be passenger princesses.” Oscar and Lando tried to disagree. 

The breeze from outside in addition to the cool air-conditioning from the car was perfect. You let everyone have their turn with the aux, praying that they wouldn’t pick anything too embarrassing.  

Oscar ripped the phone out of your hands when Logan tried to request Free Bird again.

The Aussie sighed as the American whined. 

“We are not having another shirt ripped or a speeding ticket.” 

You laughed as Logan tried to hit Oscar in the back. At an empty road, Lando grabbed his camera. 

“Bug, put your head out the window real fast.” 

You did as suggested and smiled toward the camera that Lando was holding. 

Immediately you had a sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was actual friends in the car and not just your manager. You thought back to how far you’ve come since the night before going to Milton. 

Lando laughed as he looked at the camera. 

He spoke, “This reminds me about the time that me and my friends were driving around and then this car pulled up next to ours. They were blasting What Makes You Beautiful and there was this girl in the front seat.” 

Your cheeks were becoming warm as Lando kept telling the story: that was definitely about you. Lando kept blabbing about the night. 

“And then the next morning, I got out of my hotel elevator and I think the same girl literally bulldozed me over. Didn’t say sorry or anything. I just thought it was funny, she seemed like she was in a rush.” 

Logan was laughing at the story, but got concerned at your flushed appearance and sudden quietness. 

“You alright champ? Do we need to get you some more water?” 

At the sound of the question, Lando and Oscar were leaning up, trying to look to see if you were going to actually pass out. Lando was already on his phone, trying to bring up Max’s contact to call just in case. 

However, you started laughing, making the trio at ease. You tried to cover your giggles with your mouth. You had this bright look in your eyes. 

“That was actually me Lando. Sorry about that.” 

Lando’s jaw dropped at the reveal. 

You gave a half shrug. “Arthur was waiting for me in my hotel room and I was excited to see him.” 

Logan’s and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking as they kept laughing at Lando’s facial expressions. The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, mouth formed into a pout. 

“You owe me a race win now.” 

“Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” 

“Uh, guys?” Logan asked, but you and Lando ignored him. 

“Get your own race win. You’ve done it before.” 

“Cause Max crashed out.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Guys?” Oscar’s voice also sounded, worry in his tone. 

“Lando, it’s really not that hard. You just go around him.” 

“It’s a tractor versus a rocket ship. One cannot simply just go around.” 

“GUYS!” 

“What?” you and Lando yelled at the same time. Once the car was silent, you finally noticed that it had stopped moving. 

“Logan why aren’t you driving?” 

You looked at the American, who was slightly shaking while looking in the rearview mirror. Your eyes glanced at it, blue and red lights reflecting through the glass. You looked behind you and saw the source. 

“Ah shit.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Alexa, play free bird by lynard skynard

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, redbullrocket, and 725,028 others

box_box_express oh thank goodness she's out

y/n.nation you think she jailbreaked?

georgerussell63 good to see that I don't need to pull up any power point presentations on why you four shouldn't go to jail

y/n.89 good to know that you have one ready? landonorris you think that we'd actually get arrested?? logansargeant oh yee of little faith oscarpiastri it was already ready???????

change_ur_f-car BAHAHAHAHAH I'M DEAD - ARRESTED RACE CAR DRIVERS FOR BEING IN A CAR

formulalala_delulu this whole race/day was a fever dream

christianhorner good to see you not in cuffs kid

y/n.89 good to not be in cuffs maxverstappen1 rookie arrest before I was y/n.89 HA I BEAT MAX VERSTAPPEN IN EQUAL MACHINERY landonorris oh that's not...ok

lestappenlove your honor I love them

Race Results

Max Verstappen - 25 points

Charles Leclerc - 18 points

Y/n L/n - 16 points (fastest lap)

Carlos Sainz - 12 points

Oscar Piastri - 10 points

Alex Albon - 8 points

Lando Norris - 6 points

Logan Sargeant - 4 points

Pierre Galsy - 2 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 1 point

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen - 334 points

Charles Leclerc - 304 points

Y/n L/n - 223 points

Lando Norris - 196 points

Carlos Sainz - 157 points

Oscar Piastri - 140 points

Lewis Hamilton - 113 points

Alex Albon - 70 points

George Russell - 65 points

Fernando Alonso - 45 points

Logan Sargeant - 44 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 26 points

Lance Stroll - 17 points

Pierre Gasly - 14 points

Valtteri Bottas - 13 points

Yuki Tusnuoda - 9 points

Zhou Guanyu - 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull - 557 points

Ferrari - 461 points

McLaren - 336 points

Mercedes - 178 points

Williams - 114 points

Aston Martin - 62 points

Alpha Tauri - 35 point

Alpha Romeo - 14 points

Alpine - 14 points

Haas - 0 points

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#f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #platonic grid x reader #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #new twitch quartet?? #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #fernando alonso x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 edition #formula 1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader

[russellsppttemplates]

So... pure and so you (Charles Leclerc)

Going back home means Charles sees how you've been healing, and your parents haven't missed it either

Note: english is not my first language. I know it's past Christmas, but this still counts, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: talks about having kids

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Is your mother making those biscuits I really like? Those fluffy ones, they're like little cakes actually", Charles asked, his hand over the console and resting on your thigh as he turned left for the final cut to your house.

"She said she was planning on making them these afternoon, I can't wait!", you squealed, clapping your hands together at the prospect, seeing your parents left the gate open so you could drive in.

Parking the car, Charles ensured it was safe before coming out of it as well, being greeted by your family dog while you hugged your parents, "hello buddy, how are you? You're very excited to see us, hm? Yes you are!", Charles cooed, rubbing his belly as he wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.

You hugged your parents before looking for your boyfriend, "Arlo loves Charles more than he loves me", you chuckled, seeing the labrador run back to you as Charles followed him.

"Hi, how are you?", Charles offered as he kissed your mother's cheeks, opting to shake your father's hand as you walked inside, "did you have a good drive back here?", he questioned him, "yes, not too bad actually. It wasn't too busy", your boyfriend replied, seeing you store your coats and get comfortable in your parents' house.

After lunch, your mother asked for help with baking while your father and Charles helped with preparing the table to you could then roll the dough properly.

It was a sight to behold. You were helping your mother with Christmas cookies and the cakes your boyfriend mentioned, your clothes littered with flour stains as you touched your mother's cheek with some of the mixture, containing your laugh as she didn't seem to notice the powder on her skin.

You were happy, giggly and you had a glow that Charles was sure put all of the products you had back home to shame.

"It's good to see her like this", Charles commented when he felt your father's eyes on him, "work has been a lot lately, and she'll only listen to so much of what I say and take the advice even less than I'd like", he chuckled.

Your father shook his head, "She's always been like that. It was worrisome for a little bit, and we always make sure she's not pushing herself too much. And we know we have you in our team, too", the older man touched a Charles' shoulder, rubbing it slightly before he offered him a drink.

After wishing your parents a good night, you and Charles headed to your room upstairs, needing to catch up on some sleep after the busy day. Your old bedroom had slightly changed since you moved out to live with your boyfriend. Your parents swapped your single bed for a double one, for whenever you and Charles visited, and updated the colour of the walls, wanting to keep it on the neutral side in case they needed it for other guests, "are you showering now or after me?", Charles asked, grabbing a towell from himself, "I'll go after you, I need to hang my clothes first", you smiled, kissing his lips as he went to the bathroom.

Looking through your wardrobe, you noticed your mother still kept the family albums in there, remembering something about the downstairs drawers being humid and her worry about loosing the memories. You flickered through the pages, recalling some memories from when you were younger, some of them you probably constructed by other people telling you the moments.

Charles walked in a little while later, ruffling his hair with a towell only in a t-shirt and underwear, "you can go now, amour", he said as he noticed you closing the album, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you walked to take a shower.

You were already in bed when you noticed Charles looking at the books, "you want to look at what's inside them, don't you?", you chuckled as his eyes lit up, "I'm not too tired to look at them, and I bet there are some good memories in there", he confessed.

Opening the book while your boyfriend pulled you to rest against his chest, "this is so pretty", you appreciated all the details on the pages, either doodles or descriptions from the moment when the picture was taken.

"Look at these cheeks!", Charles groaned as he pointed at a picture of you. From the date on the page, you were around four, two pigtails on your curly hair and a toothy smile, "if our kids have your cheeks, which I hope they do, I won't be able to stop kissing them, I know I just won't", he breathed out.

"Do you think about that a lot?", you wondered, looking at his face as you adjusted your position slightly, genuinely curious about the subject. It had been something you had talked about before and it seemed to come to again.

"Yes, I do. I still think we should wait a little bit longer, get married first, enjoy married life just you and me and then we can think about little ones, but everytime I see a child or someone asks, it's you I see. With a baby bump, then a little baby in your arms, and we play with them and love in them like they deserve", he cooed, rubbing the tip of his nose on your cheek, kissing it softly.

"Me too", you smiled, "I mean, its always you I see whenever I think about the future. And it looks so good. Sometimes it looks scary, because I don't know how it will play out, but I'll have you with me, so all will be well", you admitted, kissing his lips properly.

You had been friends before you dated, and it has been a whole process to get you to be this open to him when you started dating, never wanting to put too much on his plate as he had his own things to deal with, not wanting to burden him and not wanting to lose him from your life.

"We're a team, amour, there's no need to fear", he said, closing the book and setting it down on the floor, cuddling you to him.

The next morning was slow. Charles' lips littered kisses on your neck and cheeks, seeing the smile as you slowly woke up, "it's Christmas, ma belle", you heard his whisper, his eyes looking for yours, "Merry Christmas, handsome, I love you", you muttered, pulling your hands out from under the covers and cupping your boyfriend's' cheeks, rubbing the stubbly skin before kissing him.

"I love how smiley you are", Charles complimented, big coats and scarf on as you walked on the trail after having breakfast, occasionally pestering your mother with a fallen tree branch or twigs as she thought some animal was crawling up her skin.

"Am I not smiley regularly?", you wondered, knowing what he meant. Coming home meant, after a lot of work on yourself over the years, you would enjoy yourself without any outside pressures. You were amongst family and in the safe place you grew up. No prying eyes, no one commenting or second guessing what you said, wore or looked like.

"You are, but you're carefree, I think. You're not so stressed, your inner child is showing so much more, and it's so... pure. So you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you to walk closer to him.

They had both become adults way faster than the rest of the people their age. Charles' career forced him to grow up earlier and grow thicker skin very early on, and because you were there with him, too, you were also taken with the wave. You started working as soon as you finished your degree, and while you wouldn't complain about it, it did come with a lot of work and investment of yourself that you lost some of your younger years.

"Whenever we are not doing well, when it gets too much, we will do this. Visit your parents, do all the childish things we want to do, no matter how silly they may be", Charles stated as he rubbed your palm with his thumb, "I never want you to give up this side of you, and I'm willing to do anything to see you smile like that again and again".

Smiling at his words at chuckling slightly at the fact that there was no way this man was ever getting away from you, you held out your pinky, "I promise", you smiled as you two laced fingers, sealing it with a kiss.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[everlastlady]

Husband Lord Dimitrescu

✘- Author's Note: I've been wanting to do these for a while the Lord Dimitrescu artwork belongs to MetalLoveCake. I've decided to finally post some Lord Dimitrescu content. It's 3am for me but I have insomnia and can't really sleep so why not just put out something new. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✘- Story Contains: Blood, Sucking Blood, Husband Lord Dimitrescu, female reader, Romance, Fluff, Smutty shit, The author is a virgin, & cute moments.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to tease you for being a human. You are so tiny and fragile that it's funny. But he would never hurt you. He's quite gentle with you and doesn't like to cause you any harm. He's very cautious when you both sleep in bed, he doesn't want to roll over and crush you like he did last time. Even with his claws he has to remind you not to touch them because he doesn't want you to cut yourself.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to spoil you. You are his beautiful rose. And he wants his beautiful rose to always look beautiful. So he gets you the best outfits, jewelry, and anything you want. Sometimes he doesn't understand the things you request but he happily gets it for you. He also spoils you in affection; loves to give you kisses all the time. Whenever you two are together he will give a passionate kiss, he doesn't care who is around.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who likes when you play with his hair. He doesn't want to cut it for that reason. He loves when you scratch his head or run your fingers through his hair. He also loves it when you scratch his back because one time he couldn't reach his back and thought it was a good idea to use his claws. Poor man sat on your guys bed while hissing and cussing while you tending to marks on his back now he knows how his victims felt when he sliced them.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to eat you out like you are the last meal on earth. He loves watching you squirm while his tongue draws along your wet cunt. How his tongue slips in and out of your cunt. Even if you already had came, oh he's not done with you because he wants your legs to tremble even if he's done he wants your cunt to feel like his tongue is still there. He loves to bite down on your soft squishy thighs to taste your blood and leaves marks. He does the same with your breasts. Lord Dimitrescu is a large man and not just in height. He has to make sure that you are prepared before he fills you up with his hot load. (Kill me.)

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who gives you the best after care. He'll have his servants change the sheets while the two of you take a bath. He'll praise you and tell you how good you did, how sweet you tasted, and how much he loves you. He'll get you into some cozy pajamas then grab you some water, gotta stay hydrated. If you are hungry, he'll get you a meal. After all that is done he'll cuddle with you in bed and sing you nice song. He'll admire your beauty while you sleep and eventually fall asleep himself holding you.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who has three sons Cass, Daniel, and Beu. Of course you are their step mother and yes they love you. They always wanted a mother, seeing human children having loving mothers, reading books on loving mothers, and those movies and shows with loving mothers. Oh, it made them crave a mother, so they were over joyed when their father said that he was marrying you. Whenever Lord Dimitrescu is busy with paperwork or with Father Miran. The boys are always with you. One time Lord Dimitrescu came home late and didn't see you in the bedroom. He looked around and eventually found you in the room in Cass's bed along with Daniel and Beu all three boys are cuddling you. As you had a story book since you read them a bedtime story. Lord Dimitrescu chuckled he could survive one night with out you, he threw a blanket over you and the boys then left the room.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who drinks your blood with permission. He doesn't take much but whenever he does, he makes sure that you drink and eat something. He likes the taste of your blood and only drinks whenever he wants a "snack" it used to hurt but you have gotten used to it. The only time you have tasted your own blood is whenever you and him have engaged in your sexual acts in passionate kissing.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who hates when you cry, who made you cry? Lord Dimitrescu is definitely going to kill them especially if they physically hurt you. You have seen Lord Dimitrescu kill people for experimenting or just for fun. But seeing Lord Dimitrescu enraged while killing was a sight. He eventually calms down because he doesn't want to scare you. Now if you are crying because you are upset or feel self conscious. Lord Dimitrescu will sit down and hold you on his lap. He'll tell you how important, beautiful, smart, and amazing you are. He'll pick up a mirror and want you to say self affirms to yourself. He never wants you to tear yourself down.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who feels bad whenever he has to cancel plans because of meetings with Father Miran. He hates the has to cancel plans you both had. But Father Miran will be up Alban's ass if he doesn't attend those meetings or assist him in experiments. But Alban Dimitrescu will make it up by taking you to expensive place or do whatever you want him to do.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who doesn't mind if you want a child. Especially if it means you and him can make the baby. Of course he'll plan it with you especially since you are a human and he's giant fucking vampire. The boys are excited to have a little sister or brother. They even bicker over what the gender will be. Father Miran is interested upon hearing this, you and Alban having a baby? How wonderful, definitely wants to see the outcome.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who is thrilled when you give birth to a healthy baby girl. She looks just like you and him. The boys are happy to see their little sister. Lord Dimitrescu tells the boys to leave the room so you can rest. Lord Dimitrescu will take care of the baby while you rest. You both named her Dawn. Lord Dimitrescu is protective of the baby, while you are recovering from having to give birth. Lord Dimitrescu is taking care of the baby, he doesn't trust the servants. But whenever he needs to rest or work. You assure him that the servants will care for the child.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who eventually turns you into a vampire. You waited because you wanted to know more about vampires, you also thought about your friends and family. Lord Dimitrescu made sure to guide you while he turned you. He is glad that you joined him and the kids in immortality. Of course he makes sure that you and him have the best blood especially you. He is impressed how much you learned about vampires.

That's all

#lord dimitrescu #lord dimitrescu x reader #vampires #vampire #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #monster smut #smut #vampire smut #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu x female reader

[mojoflower]

So You Want to Tumbl?

There are lots of newcomers here these days, and I thought I'd spell out how to begin and what it means to ‘curate your own dash’ for folks who haven't grown along with Tumblr for the past decade.

If you're coming from a platform where content is fed to you, Tumblr can seem barren and intimidating in the beginning.  But that's actually a good thing!  What it means is that you will see what you want to.  If you're in a fighting mood, go find political discourse.  If you're feeling fragile, make your dash nothing but art and nature.

How to begin?

You’ve made your blog and picked out your icon (seriously, choose an icon:  otherwise you’re indistinguishable from bots).  Feel free to be anonymous.  Most of us are, and it’s wonderful to have a place that’s not tied to your Real Life.  Here you can be a fandom freak (like me!) and no one judges you and your boss will never find out.

Now seek out tags that interest you.  For example, I was just looking through #moss because I like peace and green things and old-growth forests.  (And, apparently, beautifully naked fae-men, heh.)

Now you follow that tag (if it's a popular tag, it'll say how many followers the tag has, which is beneficial to know if you're making a post that you want to reach all its interested audience) and posts with that tag automatically fill your dash. Voila, you have begun to curate your experience!

Do Follow:  tags; blogs in that tag that you like; people who comment on posts in the blog/tag you follow that seem like they’re up your alley.  The more people you follow, the more varied and nuanced your dash is.

Don’t Follow:  people who make comments or posts that raise your blood pressure.  Topics that upset you.  Discourse that has you arguing in your head for the rest of the day.  PLEASE avoid toxicity.  Real Life is hard enough.

How to be Social and Interact

If you want to find your tribe and interact, it’s best to start following individual blogs.  (If you follow a blog, they have an opportunity to follow you back.  Simply following a tag is a passive, one-way street.)  To Tumbl is to be in a vast cocktail party, and you need to mingle and eavesdrop to find the things that galvanize you.

How to be seen and heard

💬Comment on posts (please always stay positive and enthusiastic:  we really try to avoid toxicity).  You can read other comments (and reblogged comments) by clicking on the notes:

🔁Reblog posts you like, both to show your support and to show other people what kind of things get you excited.  Reblogging is essential to the tumblr ecosystem, because it’s the only way posts move around and get seen.  You can also “like” posts, but that's a much more passive way to interact. Also, reblogs and your own original posts show up on your blog and prove that you're not a bot.

Create your own posts and remember that the first 20 tags you use are essential, because that’s what gets you seen (and followed) by strangers.  Tags 21-30 are good for searching and archiving on your own blog, but they don’t count on the dash.  Instructions on how to Make A Post.

Participate!  Once you find your crowd, you’ll discover that there are always things going on.  For example, in fandoms, we’ve got writing events, art events, crafting and cons.  The more you try to be involved, the more new friends you’ll discover.  Tumblr allows for such an organic community.  One person has a thought, and many others build on that thought, creating something far greater than the sum of its parts.

There is no real algorithm beyond using those first 20 tags.  This may be discouraging to folks who are used to working an algorithm, but we like it fine here, because it keeps everyone real and keeps obnoxious social climbers/capitalists out of your face.

Be patient!  Just like in real life, when you find yourself in a crowd of people you don’t know, it takes a while to form connections.  Watch and listen, and learn to read the room.  Honestly, the thing that will win you the most friends/followers is honest enthusiasm about your space.

Don’t aim for the big names to become your new buddies.  You’re more likely to find a thriving coterie among other fresh faces.  Don’t assume that because they’re small or new they have nothing to offer you.  Often, this is the fire that keeps any given corner of Tumblr going.

Tumblr Etiquette

NEVER REPOST (without explicit permission).  Reposting is when you cut and paste from someone else’s content and then make it into a brand new post under your own blog name.  That is stealing and is very condemned.  Reblogging is when you use 🔁and the OP (original poster) remains attached to their post and continues to see and be in charge of interactions.  

Reblog in addition to Liking. A post that you 'like' is static. You are not helping it to get to a broader audience. If the post or poster is something/someone you support, then REBLOG that sucker: it deserves to fly!

Reblog and add your own content.  One of the best parts of Tumblr is that you can comment on a post, or even add to it in your reblog (as long as you’re not being a dick, okay?  Or changing the topic, which is known as ‘hijacking a post’).  Here is a wonderful example of the Tumblr ecosystem at work, where someone had a thought, other people had thoughts about that thought, and then a bunch of artists jumped in.  Tumblr posts BUILD COMMUNITY, and you can be a part of that conversation.  (Do try to refrain from reblogging with vacuous comments just because you want people to notice you rather than because you actually have something to add, though.  That’s just clutter.)

The most important part of “curating your experience” is learning to Block.

You can block individual blogs, Anons, people in the comments that you find upsetting.  Here's a post on How to Block.

Block entire tags or keywords if they are triggers for you.  (Here is a post on how to do that.) 

Blocking is self-care.  It is not a platform to demonstrate to the community how much you hate someone and how they should, too.  Usually the blocked person never even knows you’ve blocked them.  If they do something egregious (like tell you or someone else to kill themselves), then ‘Report’ them.

You can block something (like #US Politics) if you can’t handle it at the moment, and then unblock it later.  Block a friend if they’re spamming something you don’t like and then unblock them later.  It’s all good!  You are in control of what shows up on your dash.

But doesn’t this mean my dash will be single-topic and boring?

The simultaneous joy and pitfall in following individuals is that MANY blogs are not single-topic.  You will be exposed to all kinds of reblogs/ideas/other people from the folks you chose to follow, and can decide for yourself if you (a) want to be involved in that topic, (b) are indifferent to that topic, or (c) want to run from it screaming.

Also, the blogs you follow will move from hobby/theme/passion over time, and you can move with them, appreciate their new topic without vibing with it, or drop them altogether.

And THIS is how you curate your dash, my friends.

***Install New XKit extension.  It’ll make your life easier!

***Here's the Tumblr Help Center, where you can learn more details.

#welcome to tumblr #new users #tumblr #tumblr etiquette #tumblr tips #how to tumbl #mojo muses #twitter refugees #long post

[jinnie-ret]

ok but imagine chans sister comes to visit the boys and gets attacked by saesangs. comfort from chan as well as his own guilt that it happened?? while the boys do their best to fix everything and make it okay? my love for angsty fics is really showing damn

cold water

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: angst, angst, and more angst

content warnings: saesangs, violence, drowning

word count: 3.3k

summary: when chan's sister pays the boys a visit in Seoul, during their S-CLASS mv shooting, no one could have expected the day to end the way it would.

Thank you so much for this request! I've been trying to write it for the past couple of days because this idea instantly popped into my head, I hope it fulfills the angst you've been looking for!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Y/N was glad to finally settle down in Seoul after her flight from Sydney. She was excited to see Bang Chan again, it had been a while as she hadn't been able to fly over with Hannah and go to their concerts, too busy with her school work. You see, Y/N always dreamed of being a director, and so when Chan had offered her to come watch them film their newest music video for their upcoming title track, S-CLASS, she couldn't deny his offer. Especially since he had promised that it would be a new experience for not just her, but for him and the rest of the boys too.

And boy was he right. If you had asked Y/N if she was going on a nighttime shoot, on a boat, in the middle of Han River, she would have laughed in your face, but her brother was big time now, and as much as she'd tease him and deny it, she was proud of Bang Chan. He even managed to get a comment along those lines from her earlier in the day.

"Y/Nnie, aren't you proud of your big bro?" Chan bounced around happily, excited for his younger sister to be staying with them, shaking her shoulders at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes, unable to hide her growing smile as she stood in the entrance of the dorms he shared with Changbin, Han, and Hyunjin.

Speaking of, they all appeared, hearing the commotion of their leader and someone else.

"Woah, is that you, Y/N? You've grown!" Han patted her head as he greeted her.

"Not by much," she laughed, ducking away when the head pats turned into borderline hair ruffling, and no one touches her hair.

"Who knows, maybe you'll be taller than Changbinnie!" Hyunjin laughed.

"There's no way, Y/N got the small genes too, just like me and Hannah, Lucas is the only one who is tall out of us siblings," Chan sighed.

"It's so annoying. We're twins. He's got height to spare, why couldn't he give me some of it?" Y/N whined, causing Chan to laugh at her.

"Ah, join us on the dark side Y/N," Chan gestured to him and the other 2 members of 3RACHA.

"I'm in a dorm full of shorties," Hyunjin shook his head.

"Surprise, shawtyyyy," Y/N did some jazz hands, causing Han and Chan to laugh because they got the reference.

"Anyways let's drop your bags off in the spare room, then we can grab something to eat and head to the shoot, yeah?" Chan suggested as he picked up Y/N's luggage and carried it with him.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N nodded as she followed along.

Best. Dinner. Ever.

Bulgogi. Fried chicken. Kimchi. It was a proper feast. Although, the boys didn't have too much as they said they didn't want to feel bloated during the shoot, and they'd probably get some more food later. Y/N wouldn't be able to turn down that offer too, especially since her brother was paying for it all.

"So how old are you now, Y/Nnie?" Seungmin asked as she traveled with the other boys to their shoot.

"I'm 17," Y/N replied, the boys letting out noises of surprise.

"I remember when we debuted, you were only 12!" Felix gasped.

"Well, times have changed haha, it's been like 5 years, you know, you guys have been doing this for a small while now," Y/N pointed out. Of course she wasn't going to be a child forever.

"That makes me feel old," Lee Know sighs, throwing his head back against the headrest in the car.

"Well, you are the oldest one in here hyung," Jeongin patted his shoulder condescendingly.

"Yah! Our driver hyung is older than me!" Lee Know replied, turning around and staring daggers at his youngest member.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the interactions they had. She was glad her brother was surrounded by such good people. She knew he had found it tough before when he saw his other trainee friends debut, not fully realising how isolating that must have been until a few years ago now.

"You know, you're pretty cool, Chris," Y/N stared in awe at the boat they were about to board.

"Thanks, sis," he wrapped her in a small side hug, not teasing her this time yet still having a bashful expression on his face.

They all boarded the boat, staff, crew, members. Not realising the two suspicious hooded figures following them on and instantly hiding. In fact, Y/N thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye, jolting around so suddenly she caught the attention of Chan once more.

"You good?" he raised an eyebrow at her, looking around now also.

"Thought I saw something... it's probably nothing," Y/N brushed it off.

"It's probably jet lag," Chan guessed, and Y/N nodded along anyways. It had been a long flight over, and she was feeling her energy slowly drop. Yet that didn't stop her from eagerly trying to pick up every detail of the shoot, from the camera angles, to how many takes it took the boys on different scenes, and to other unseen aspects of the shoot.

"So let me get this right, they're going to CGI a massive octopus in?" Y/N said with wide eyes, wondering why it would be there.

"Yeah, and?" Felix shrugged.

"And Seungmin is going to dance next to it for some reason?" Y/N clasped her hands behind her back.

"So?" Han shrugged. These sorts of ideas weren't really anything out of the ordinary for them.

"That's sick!" Y/N cheered in English, making the boys jump from her sudden mood change they witnessed, thinking she was criticising what was happening at first. They now understood she was just an excitable girl.

She had been diligently taking down notes on her phone the whole time, taking photos also. The crew had been worried at first that she'd reveal spoilers for the filming, but Chan reassured them all that Y/N was a good kid and she wouldn't do anything like that.

"Hey, Chris, is there a toilet on here?" two girls crouched on a lower part of the boat heard Y/N ask her brother. Of course they recognised the girl when they snuck on earlier. They were fans before their likes turned to obsessions, so of course they knew that Y/N was Chan's sister.

"Just downstairs one and to the left," they heard Chan reply and had to hide their squeals. Maybe if they saw Y/N, they could pretend to be best friends with her and then get closer to Chan. And then, once they got closer to Chan, they could become closer with the other members too.

Delusion was a disease.

Y/N put her phone torch light on as she headed down one flight of stairs and entered the bathroom, a light flickering on instantly. She went to enter a cubicle before a bright light shined in her face and left her wincing and feeling startled.

In reality, it was the two saesang girls' best bet in getting away before they were caught. And they didn't even feel bad for what they did. It's not like they went to the extremes of using a laser.

"Ah," Y/N winced as she rubbed her eyes, but she ignored it and soon returned upstairs.

"Are you ok? You look a bit disoriented," Hyunjin checked on the younger girl as he took a break, getting his hair and clothes touched up and adjusted.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just, a bit, I don't know," Y/N didn't know what else to say. She had a bad feeling now, swearing she had heard some giggles and footsteps running away from her after she was temporarily blinded.

"Is being on the boat all too much?" Seungmin asked, feeling bad for the girl who looked dazed.

"Hey, Y/N, why don't you take a moment, yeah, I know all the cameras and lights can be a bit overwhelming," Chan came over as soon as he heard the tone difference in the voices of his group.

"Ok, I'll just be round that corner, I'm going to look out at the river," Y/N told him, receiving a satisfied nod in response as she walked off. Perhaps all she needed really was just a breather. Yes, all the set and ideas were amazing, but it was very fast paced. What happened to their song, 'My Pace'?

Y/N giggled to herself, looking out at the water before she heard people approach her from behind.

"Chris, I still need some time-"

"Ah, so you are his sister..." one of the girls, looking around 20 years old, and staring down Y/N.

"Oh, are you staff here? Sorry, Chris, umm, Chan said it was okay to come down here, but I can move if-"

"No, why don't you stay?" the other girl evily smiled.

"Well, if you're sure..." Y/N nodded and turned back towards the water, before her head was yanked back and she fell to the floor of the boat with a thud.

"Hey!" Y/N shouted, but her mouth was instantly covered.

"You're going to give us exactly what we want, isn't that right?" a harsh voice whispered into her ear with gritted teeth. But Y/N shook her head pleadingly, not wanting to be caught up in anything violent.

"Stupid!" she was slapped across the face, letting out a whimper from the pain before she was pinned to the ground.

"Listen here, you little bitch. You may think you're living the high life as Chan's sister but you've got it all wrong. Now, you're going to walk back up there with and introduce us properly to that lovely brother of yours, pretend we got lost down here, just two staff members gone missing," a girl squeezed her wrists tight as Y/N couldn't move from her position.

"Ow, shit. Get off!" Y/N struggled in their grip, feeling terrified. This is certainly not what she expected when she came to visit her brother for an innocent work experience trip.

"Do it, now," they hauled her up and pushed her back towards where everyone else was working.

"I don't have to do anything you tell me. I'll just call the police and-" Y/N bravely began as she held up her phone but it was soon knocked out of her hands, and sink into the depths of the Han River.

"Oops," a girl innocently giggled.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Y/N shouted loudly, loud enough that she would be heard by the others, particularly her older brother who was due to go down and check on her because he thought she had been taking too long.

"Some may say that," the two girls cackled maniacally amongst themselves, like it was the best inside joke in the world.

"That was my phone! It had everything on it! I need it!" Y/N shouted once more, Chan, Lee Know and Changbin's footsteps becoming more rushed now. The other two immediately joined Chan on the way when they too heard the shouting.

Y/N had a pair of hands wrapped around her throat, the other unoccupied as the owner of them smirked and simply whispered.

"Aw, you better go get it then."

In a split second, Chan and the rest of the hyung line watched as Y/N was hurled over the edge of the boat, screaming as she fell before a splash was heard.

"Y/N!!!" Chan screamed in complete and utter panic. It was dark, it was cold, and now his sister was forced to try and stay afloat in such freezing temperatures like the waters of Han River.

"Are you crazy?!" Lee Know yelled at the two girls, who were excited to see the boys, not realising the consequences of their actions.

"Y/N!!! Y/N!!! Can you hear me?!" Chan heartbreakingly yelled as he looked over the edge of the boat railings and tried to see the head of his sister pop up.

Y/N felt her airways open before she cold help it. Ice cold water, working its way through her body as it traveled to her lungs and caused her to let out muffled pleas for help, trying to swim to the surface.

"Somebody get help! Someone fell in the water!!" Changbin used his loud voice to his advantage as he signalled the emergency crew with a lifeboat to drop down into the water and try and find Y/N.

"No, no, no, I can't believe this, no..." Chan whimpered, hands clenching onto the railing so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Chan, it's ok, they'll find her," Felix had come up behind him, trying to calm him down even though he himself was feeling the exact same way. All of the boys were. There was anger, there was panic, there was... grief too. Nothing had been confirmed, but the what ifs flying through everyone's minds had killed the thoughts in their brains telling them that there was still a chance.

"I can't see her!!! I can't see her!!!" Chan paced, running his fingers through his hair as he cried. He cried so hard. The members couldn't remember the last time they saw their leader like this. But he was a family man, through and through. He'd do anything to protect those around him, especially those close to him.

"Get rid of these girls!" Han lead over some staff members to the two saesangs who had been stood starstruck the whole time Lee Know cussed them out, only infuriating him more.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin tried.

"Y/Nnie!" Seungmin tried.

"Y/N!" Jeongin tried.

They all tried calling her but there was no luck so far. The boat had been deployed into the river and it had bright lights reflecting off of the water, hoping to catch sight of Y/N.

"I should have protected her! I promised her!" Chan angrily pointed out towards the water, tears continuously falling as his members wrapping him in their arms comfortingly and trying to keep him calm

"Y/N! I see her! To the right! She's there!" Lee Know yelled down at the boat operators, who quickly jumped into action as they grabbed the shivering girl, trying to make sure she was breathing as they transported her onto land, where the boys on the boat were now pulling in too.

Y/N didn't remember much of what happened. Her body slowly became more and more numb, yet it carried her to the surface of the water, where she fortunately was floating on her back. She coughed and spluttered, and it seemed to let her breathe with a bit more improvement. Or maybe it was when she was wrapped in a foil blanket, hearing shouts of her name and feeling the rocking of a boat as she was moved somewhere.

The ground felt flat. But she couldn't mistake the warmth of her brother, even in her haziness.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened to you, my Y/Nnie. I won't let anyone come near you ever again, I'll protect you. Chris is sorry, Y/N," Chan cried as he held his sister tightly against him, wrapping the blanket tighter around her and not caring about the discomfort he felt from sitting down in his tight leather trousers. Tears rolled down his cheeks, the other members gathered around and looking shaken up too, hands over there mouth or a supportive hand on Chan's shoulder.

"Please, can we pause the filming? I need to make sure she's ok," Chan pleaded with the staff, who immediately and wordlessly nodded at him, feeling incredibly upset themselves at what had happened. They had seen the brightness in the girl's eyes, when she asked them questions about how things worked and why they did them.

"We're all here for you, hyung," Changbin kneeled down next to Bang Chan and wrapped an arm around his shoulder at the same time. He knew how tough Chan could be on himself, and this was going to eat him up for weeks, maybe even years.

Y/N coughed, becoming aware of her surroundings and momentarily thrashing around before a gentle voice calmed her in an instant.

"Y/N, I've got you love, I've got you yeah, you're ok, you're alive," Chan tried not to let his voice break as he squeezed her tighter in his arms.

"The, girls, pushed, couldn't breathe," Y/N spluttered, her words coming out jumbled as flashes of the situation that just happened flushed through her mind.

"Sssh, sssh, I know, I know, but you're safe now, yeah?" Chan did his best to reassure her and stop her mind from going into overdrive, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Sir, we should really call get her to a hospital, she may have secondary drowning. We can't risk anything."

Within a heartbeat Chan was nodding, medics coming over as she was lifted into the back of an ambulance, and now, instead of Y/N, he was the one who was frozen.

"Hyung, come on, you need to go with her, we'll follow behind," Felix ushered him to stand.

"She... she nearly..." Chan spoke in disbelief, not wanting to finish his sentence as reality hit him hard like a truck.

"But she didn't," Lee Know said firmly, "go with her," he pushed him towards the ambulance.

Chan sat numbly in the ambulance, hand holding his little sister's, the youngest Bahng. What would his parents say? He had failed them, failed Y/N, failed his duty as an older brother. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realise they had arrived at the hospital, and Y/N seemed to be more with it than before as she was being carted out the back of the ambulance.

"No, wait, Chan, I want my brother," Y/N whimpered as he went out of her sight, trying to tell the paramedics that she needed him. The other members had arrived too but she needed only one person with her.

"Hyung, we're here now, she needs you," Jeongin drags his oldest hyung out of the ambulance towards Y/N.

Chan stayed with her until she was discharged. He had no second thoughts to any news articles that would be dispatched, or what the company would say. All that was running through his mind was family, family, family.

"Chris?" Y/N weakly said from her bed. Well, it wasn't her bed technically. It was the one that belonged to the spare room in the dorms. She laid there wondering why this had to happen to her. If it wasn't for those saesangs...

"What is it? You need something to eat? Are you in pain?" Chan fussed over her.

"It's not your fault," Y/N whispered. Her quiet words shattered something in Chan's heart.

"Don't," he shook his head.

"I know that look, Chris, just don't blame yourself. It was those girls. You didn't push me into the river," Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make eye contact with her brother but he couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Don't talk about it!"

"Look at me!" Y/N shouted, putting all her effort into using her voice and causing her to start coughing.

This made Chan go into high alert as he sat her up and patted her back instantly, like it was habit, just as he would have done when he first held her at the age of ten.

"I need you, Chris, please don't get lost in your own head, I need you here with me," Y/N teared up, and Chan knew that she didn't mean physically being there. This was a whole other matter.

"I'm sorry, it's okay, Y/Nnie, I'm here," Chan hugged her tightly, feeling her relax.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Y/N cried, shoulders shaking.

"This should have never happened to you," Chan wiped her tears gently.

"I promise you, you will never come to any harm again, ok? Me and the boys, we'll help you recover, we'll take care of you. No one will ever hurt you again, Y/Nnie, I swear."

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids sister #skz sister #skz imagines #stray kids fic #straykids angst

[proxima-writes]

title: stranger than a stranger

pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4964

summary:

When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.

author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!

You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.

Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.

“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”

“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles. 

“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies. 

You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts. 

“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”

You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.

“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.

You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”

“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”

With another nod, you part ways. 

You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.

________

Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.

Too bad Joel is the predator here.

He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.

Good.

Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.

It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.

He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine. 

The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.

The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.

He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.

The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.

“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“

He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body. 

Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.

Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.

Just like he wanted.

________

You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.

In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.

The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”

“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.

“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.

“‘Fraid so.”

You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more. 

“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”

You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”

Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?

“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.

“The name’s Joel.”

________

It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.

“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”

You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.

You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.

What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend. 

It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.

You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.

Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.

You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.

________

Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.

You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.

“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options. 

He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.

“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”

Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag. 

A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.

A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.

Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.

“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks. 

Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale. 

The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest. 

The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.

Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.

“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request. 

Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage. 

“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts. 

You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.

“Come help, then.”

________

Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.

You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come. 

Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”

Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.

“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”

You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.

“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”

“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside. 

With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.

________

You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does. 

It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.

“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”

You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.

Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.

“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.” 

You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.

“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”

You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear. 

“Those, too,” Joel says. 

“Why?”

“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”

Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.

You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.

“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room. 

Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.

________

Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.

“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.

You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you. 

With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.

Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.

You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you. 

Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.

Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly. 

He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.

Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”

His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught. 

“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.

“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”

“W-what?” 

He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.

“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”

Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.

The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.

He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”

You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.

“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.

“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours. 

You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?

You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.

“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.

You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts. 

You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.

_______

You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.

You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.

You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice. 

Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?

The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place. 

You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #dark joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic request #joel miller masterlist #the last of us

[natti-ice]

Being Remus Lupin’s Best friend Headcanons.

Warnings: modern AU!

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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Makes sure you’re not behind on any work. If you are he’ll help you with whatever it is. He jokingly acts like he hates it but he loves helping you.

Shared wardrobe. He knows everything he owns will somehow get in your possession. He even buys sweaters in your favorite colors just for that reason.

Man is a sucker for romantic dramas. He’d rather watch every sappy movie on Netflix than some action movie. (He loves a walk to remember)

Makes plans to take you out for your birthday every year. Will do anything you want, he’d jump out of a plane if you wanted to.

Random hugs. No reason behind them, just hugs

A bad driver. Took 2 tries to get his license but he did it. Makes you drive, then complains about your driving. (He’s an over dramatic mother)

The most funny sarcastic person you’ve ever met. He doesn’t even try to make a joke but it’s always hilarious.

Askes you about your day, he’s a great listener

He has a small rock collection. He only told you about it.

Texts in all lowercase. “😐” is his favorite emoji

Calls > text

One of his shoes always has a different color lace. Shoes are always beat up, but he likes it that way

His guilty pleasure is country music, but only sang by women.

No social media presence, but always has good memes on hand

Activist

Favorite place to hang out is the local park. There’s never anyone there just you two. He likes the sound when wind blows through the trees

Random compliments about the most random things. (Like handwriting or a random pin on your backpack)

Secretly in love with an actor from the 50’s who is most likely dead.

Has a job at some lowkey coffee shop barely anyone knows about, loves when you come in

Brings you your favorite drink/snack every time he comes to see you

He watched Doctor Strange because Benedict Cumberbatch is hot

One of those people who points out someone you don’t like and says “there’s your best friend”

Had a Minecraft phase when he was 11

Fake arguments over small things.

Mocks you when you annoy him, which is a lot

Your parents love him, they always ask him to come on family vacations with you guys

Hates those fake prank couple videos on YouTube

Had you pierce his ears because he thought he’d look edgy, But took them out because he felt like a douchbag

My chemical romance >>

You two stroll around the neighborhood at 3am

Tells you everything, sometimes a little bit too much. He knows you won’t judge him

You’re his favorite person, obviously.

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Tags: @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @madwcman @de-duchess @timbradfordisbae

Join a tag list!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x gn!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders headcanon

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

#one year anniversary #celebration

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 3

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: no use of y/n, "Bee" is reader's nickname Joel gave her, fluff, allusions to smut or almost, angst, miscommunication, there's a lot of tension and things are getting complicated.

a/n: Hello! Chapter 3 is here! I took time off this weekend so i had time for writing this and here we are. I really hope you like this one because things are going to happen next chapter 👀 Happy reading and remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, thanks for the love on this fic so far and I'm always love hearing from you, you can send me any ask or talk to me, and as always if you want to be tagged, just tell me 💌

Two days had passed since your encounter with Lauren, and during those two days, you had been doing your best to avoid Joel.  Not only for your own sense of humiliation but because you didn’t want to step into a story you weren’t part of. You felt ashamed of being in the middle of a relationship without closure between them.

However, Joel noticed and he started to miss you, your acts of affection, like the warm coffee you had been bringing to him in the morning and the genuine connection blooming between you. These two days just felt emptier without you.   you. These

He knew something was off with you, so he decided to face you and went to your flower shop with the only objective of talking to you in his mind. As he entered, the familiar sound of the bell he was getting used to chiming, he saw you there arranging a bouquet of roses as you always did. 

You glanced up, your expression guarded “Joel if you need anything. I’m really busy right now”

"No, you don’t” Joel replied firmly, walking to the counter to stand in front of him. “You can’t continue avoiding me like this.”

Your eyes narrowed as if you didn’t understand what he was talking about. “I’m not."

Joel took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Bee”

You sighed and looked at him in the eyes. “It’s hard, but Lauren”, you finally acknowledged the source of your discomfort.

“Oh. Who told you?” he asked, his voice tinged with guilt.

“What?” 

“It’s because I let her meet Sarah. Isn’t it? Because I didn’t tell you?” 

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came. A mix of emotions swirled inside you. But it mostly hurt. 

“Bee?” he pleaded, waiting for you to say something. 

“I have nothing to tell you, Joel,” you said, and undertone your words. 

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “Are you jealous or what?” he accused you.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, defiantly.

“The way you’re acting,” he said, raising his voice.

"Joel, it's not just about that," you said, your voice lingering with frustration. "It's about how you asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend just for you to become closer to her?

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. “Bee, I didn’t want to hide it from you. I just... didn’t know how to explain everything. It's complicated."

You let out a bitter chuckle and Joel looked taken aback, almost offended. He didn’t know what to say to make things get better.

“Why do you care?” 

Your frustration was evident as you replied, "Because I'm stuck in the middle of this mess, Joel. I didn't sign up for this drama."

Joel's face contorted with a mixture of anger. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Sarah is my daughter. I know what’s good for her.”

Your frustration flared, and you spoke sharply, "You're so focused on your own problems, Joel, that you can't see how this affects everyone around you. Including me."

The tension reached its peak, and your voices rose in unison as you both shouted at each other, the anger and pain speaking for both of you.

"Well, that's my problem to deal with, go to hell!" Joel retorted.

"Fuck you!" you shouted back, your voice laced with frustration and pain. "Get out of here before I hit you in the damn face!"

With that, Joel turned and stormed out of your flower shop, leaving behind a cloud of unresolved emotions and a shattered pretense that had held your worlds together.

And Joel didn’t know why his heart hurt so much.

In the aftermath of your heated argument with Joel, you were left feeling like you were on fire. The tension between you had reached its peak, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had made a terrible mistake by getting involved with him.

Over the next hours, you tried your best to put some distance between yourself and Joel. You solely focused on your flower shop and threw yourself into your work, hoping that distraction would help you forget about the consequences of your actions. 

As you were busy cleaning the counter in your flower shop, you suddenly felt a pair of hands cover your eyes. Startled, you nearly dropped the cloth you were holding.

Your heart hammered in your chest thinking it was Joel with an apology, but then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, "Guess who?"

Your heart skipped a beat as a rush of emotions overcame you. You knew that voice and the feeling of those hands on your eyes. It couldn't be... could it?

With a mixture of excitement and disbelief, you reached up to remove the hands from your eyes and turned around. Standing before you was Connell, wearing his characteristic smile.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked just as handsome as ever.

"Connell!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you held him close. "When did you get back?”

Connell chuckled warmly, returning your hug. "Job offer” he replied. “Not here, but I wanted to see you.” 

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with happiness. 

“You look as stunning as always,” he said in disbelief. 

His compliment about your appearance brought a blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but smile. "You look pretty great yourself, Connell."

As Connell surprised you in your flower shop and you shared a warm embrace, Joel watched from a distance.

As you and Connell shared your warm embrace, neither of you noticed Joel watching from a distance. He was confused as he observed the reunion. Part of him felt a pang of jealousy, even though he couldn't quite explain why.

“That’s Connell if you are asking.”

Joel turned his head to face the voice. It was Lily. 

“Her ex,” she added.

Joel's gaze shifted from Lily to you from afar as she provided some context for him to understand what this could mean. His jaw tensed slightly as he processed the information. Your ex-boyfriend was here, and the situation suddenly felt even more complicated to deal with.

Lily, enjoying the drama, couldn't resist stirring the pot. She raised an eyebrow at Joel and asked, "So, Joel, why are you looking at her like a puppy?

Joel's expression remained guarded as he replied, "I just wanted to talk to her”. He said, “But I see she is busy”. The last sentence came with laced jealousy written over it. 

Lily couldn't help but grin at Joel's tone. She leaned in closer, her voice teasing. "Busy with her ex, it seems." 

Joel's jaw clenched, and he shot Lily a pointed look. "It's none of your business, Lily."

“They were so in love, you know?”  Lily continued to tease. "Oh, I can tell. The way Connell's looking at her, it's like he never left."

Joel's irritation was palpable, but before he could respond, Lily added, "But hey, Joel and Bee are nothing real, so no need to get jealous.” 

Joel sighed, realizing that Lily wasn't going to let this go. "Lily, can we not do this right now?"

Lily stopped, but her mischievous grin remained. "Alright, alright, Joel. I’ll go, but come back later. You may find her in a better mood.” 

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and headed towards the door of your shop, leaving Joel dealing with his own mixed feelings towards you.

By the next day, Joel grew incredibly worried about you not showing up at your job. The worst scenarios came to his mind, the thought of him and Connell spending the night together the one stabbing deeply in his heart.

The idea of having you next to his gallery for four years, not caring about you at all now, you being the only thought in his mind, made him mad. He hated the feeling that now had settled in his heart at the memory of you. 

Your sudden disappearance only fueled his anger towards you, but mostly towards himself, so by the time the day was over for him, he drove to your house. He decided to confront you. 

All the way, he had been practicing the speech he was going to give you, the words he was going to say, and the possible reactions you could have. However, when he knocked at your door and you opened it, he was taken by surprise. You looked absolutely miserable. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess, and you were sniffling, clearly sick.

His anger immediately dissipated at your image, replaced by concern. 

“How do you know where I live?” you asked slowly, whispering. 

He thought it was funny that your first concern was him being here.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern in his tone. 

You gave a weak nod. "Just a stupid cold."

Joel's anger had melted away the moment he saw you in such a vulnerable state. Without another word, he stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. 

He walked over to you, his expression softening as he took in your appearance. "You should be resting," he said softly, studying all your face. 

“It was what I was doing until an idiot knocked on my door.” You managed a faint smile.

Joel chuckled and told you to sit, then he went to the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets to find some tea to ease your misery. He quickly brewed a cup of hot tea and brought it to you along with some medicine he found on the counter. 

Sitting down beside you, he handed you the warm mug. "Here, drink this. It should help."

You rolled your eyes at him, taking the tea, sipping it, feeling the soothing warmth spreading through your body. Joel watched over you, concerned because you were not the girl full of life he had gotten used to for the last weeks. He checked your forehead with the back of his hand, checking your temperature. It was a simple gesture, but deep down he knew he had started to care about you. 

As you leaned back on the couch, feeling the effects of the tea and the medicine, you couldn't help but thank Joel’s presence next to you that you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder and his heart melted in his chest.

Seeing that he had grown tired from the effects of the tea and medicine, Joel carefully set the empty mug aside. He couldn't help but smile softly as he watched you drift off to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder. At that vulnerable moment, you seemed so delicate and different from the annoying person he thought you were, a picture he had created of you by himself, far from the truth. You were actually nice, caring, and the person with the biggest heart he had ever known. 

Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as he stood up from the couch. Your head nestled against his chest, and he could feel the rise and fall of your breath, steady. Without a word, he carried you to your bedroom, careful not to wake you.

As he laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over you, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze tracing the lines of your face. It was a rare sight, seeing you so peaceful and vulnerable, and it tugged at something deep within him.

Joel knew he should leave and let you rest, even when he didn’t want to, but as he turned to go, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Joel, don't go," you murmured, your eyes fluttering open slightly.

You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Please, just stay."

That was all he needed to stay. He carefully climbed into the bed beside you, making sure to maintain a respectful distance, but you shifted closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his body. The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing gradually synchronizing in the silence of the room. Joel watched over you, a rush of emotion ran through his body and he made himself feel comfortable against you. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, Miller. Remember, we can’t fall in love” you whispered as you snuggled on his chest.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your whispered remark, even as his heart skipped a beat at the intimacy of the moment.

"I’m doing my best to keep that promise," he murmured in reply, not feeling sure of that promise anymore. 

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep as well. The warmth of your body against him lulled him into the best sleep he had had in years. 

At that moment, there was no fake relationship, not pretending, but just two people resting in each other’s arms.

The next day, after a restful night of sleep, you woke up feeling better, better enough to go back to work. You decided to start again, putting aside the last argument with Joel and focusing on your own job. Besides, after last night, you were grateful for Joel and you couldn’t find yourself mad at him anymore. So, the first thing you did was arrange a bouquet of flowers for Joel and go to his gallery, making your way to his office. There wasn’t a signal of Joel, so you placed the cup of coffee on his desk, along with the bouquet, and some pastries, and left a note: 

I know you hate flowers, but thanks for last night, I feel better because of you.

Then, you returned to your flower shop, hoping the note would make him smile. 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with you arranging flowers and serving customers as usual, and even when you kept yourself busy, your mind occasionally drifted back to Joel, anticipating his reaction to the flowers, and just as you were arranging a bouquet of sunflowers, your phone chimed, interrupting your thoughts. 

Joel

Thanks for the coffee and the pastries, I’m happy you’re better, bee.

By the way, I don’t hate flowers anymore.

You smiled at that, leaving the message unanswered.

As night fell, you noticed Joel was still working in the gallery. So, you decided to pay him a visit.

When you arrived, the gallery was dimly lit, with the soft glow of lights illuminating the pieces of art displayed inside. You spotted Joel in the studio, focused on adjusting the lighting to highlight the details of the paint he was currently working on. Looking at him, this focus gave you a moment to appreciate his dedication and his own features under the cast light. You have never seen him this way, so focused as he smoked out the air of the cigarette between his lips. 

He didn’t notice your presence until you approached inside the studio. Joel looked up from his work and his eyes met yours. Surprise flickered across his face as he took in your figure in front of him. The corner of his lips curled into a small smile.

"Bee," he said, setting down his brush and walking over to you. "I didn't expect to see you here."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you in his presence. "You left early this morning, so I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

“I wanted to let you sleep.”

You shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips “Well, your plan didn’t work.”

Your eyes shifted from him to his work. He was painting a portrait of a woman. You took a moment to admire the painting, intrigued by the way Joel's work, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized the woman in the painting was you.

"Joel," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "Is this... me?"

"Yes, it's you." He said as you stepped forward in front of him. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the portrait. It made you feel beautiful.

"Why?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

You felt Joel stepping closer from behind you, as you kept admiring the canvas. He took another step closer, and his hand gently cupped your waist, “Well- “he cleared his throat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air. The gallery around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a color you had searched for years.

As you felt his presence linger, you were able to cast a glance at him over your shoulder. Not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes not leaving yours. 

“Bee” he leaned closer to you, whispering smoothly in your ear, as his chest brushed your back. 

You had been getting closer in the last weeks, but this moment was different and intense, and it was making your heart beat hard against your chest.

You tried not to be affected by the closeness, you were trying really hard, but everything around you was slipping away and Joel was the only clear thought you had in your mind. It was like you were under a spell.

He learned, leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it. 

“Can I kiss you for real this time?” He whispered lustily.

You turned to face him, and his hands held your waist, your widened eyes locked with his, feeling a magnetic pull, a connection without boundaries, when the false reality you had created blurred, and all that mattered was the feelings pulling both of you closer right now.

As he stood there, in front of his own piece of art, his lips dropped down to your mouth, already devouring it with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel wanted under his stare.

You didn’t react at first, his mouth took your lips in his and he properly kissed you for the first time, because this kiss was real, one you both wanted. His hands grabbed your waist and held you against him as if his life depended on it.  

Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire. 

A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer. 

He gently pushed you against the wall as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you. 

Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.

The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.

He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.

A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.

"Everything's f-"

You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, travelling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Oh" you breathed.

Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.

“I’ve been really,” he kissed you “loving” He kissed you again “spending time with you”

And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight. 

He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need. 

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.

You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you. 

He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you. 

He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.

“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face. 

“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.

He lifted you with force as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the wall. His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other. 

He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.

Just as you were almost crossing the line of the agreement you made. A voice calling his name suddenly ruined the moment. He pulled away with a reluctant sigh, his eyes still locked with yours.

Fuck.

"Joel!" Tommy's voice echoed through the gallery, and you both turned to see his brother approaching.

Joel cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, pulling you down carefully and fixing his jeans rapidly though his eyes still lingered on you.

 "Tommy, what are you doing here?" he asked, leaving the studio.

Tommy chuckled, his grin widening. "Well, you told me to pick you over tonight.” 

Joel blinked, momentarily confused by his brother's words. Then the realization dawned on him.

“You forgot? Because- Bee?” he asked in disbelief once he spotted you hiding behind the door of Joel’s studio in the gallery. 

You stepped out from behind the door, feeling a bit awkward and ashamed. "Hi, Tommy.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye “What are you doing here?

You struggled to find words to explain your presence at the gallery at 09:00 p.m. “I just thought I’d stop by to help Joel.”

“With your mouth?” he asked you.

Joel shot his brother a warning look, but Tommy just grinned wider. “I’m sorry but your unbuttoned jeans and the messy hair speak louder.” 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away, suddenly self-conscious under Tommy's teasing gaze.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tommy, can we talk about this later?"

Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the back. "Sure, sure. I'll let you two get back to your... art appreciation."

With a final wink in your direction, Tommy made his exit, leaving you and Joel alone.

“By the way, you’re are getting pretty good at pretending,” he shouted for the last time. 

“I guess he is right,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Joel nodded, but there was a contemplative look in his eyes. "I wasn’t pretending.”

There was a moment of silence between you two, the unspoken tension from earlier still lingering in the air. 

Joel's words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. " I care about you, Bee” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. He couldn’t believe he had just confessed something he only thought was in his mind and it left you both surprised. 

After two days, both Joel and you were in a game of changing minds with none of you wanting to face each other after the events of the other night, when you almost crossed the line of pretending while tracing shades of love you didn’t want to admit. And if you face each other, your armor could fall again, and neither of you wanted that. 

But you couldn’t stop replying to his words in your mind, wondering if he had truly meant them or if it was just a slip of the passionate moment that felt like a sin.

As evening descended two days later, you found yourself at the gallery once again. Contemplating your options. Going inside and falling into his language that made gravity fall too much or going back to your home and pretending Joel wasn’t your Achilles heel.

This time, you went for the first option, and the same soft glow of light was illuminating the space like the other night. However, this time it wasn’t the same. Joel was standing next to one of the art pieces, sharing a laugh with Lauren. They seemed to share a really good moment, with genuine smiles displaying on his faces, and it was clear that you had interrupted a moment between them.

Your heart sank at the picture. Just imagine bringing women to his gallery to fuck them in his studio was something casual for him. 

You hesitated, before making up your mind and leaving, but your footsteps must have caught their attention because Joel's gaze locked onto yours, and he quickly excused himself from the conversation with Lauren. Lauren turned to look at you, her expression unreadable.

Joel approached you with a concerned look. "Bee? What are you doing here?"

You couldn't hide the hurt in your voice as you replied, "I came here to talk to you, Joel, but I bet you’re busy”

You felt a surge of disappointment and Lauren's presence behind only added fuel to the fire of your own humiliation.

“It’s not what-

“Joel? Are you ready for dinner?” Lauren's voice interrupted the moment, and you turned to see her looking at you both with a faint smile.

You couldn't help but feel like an intruder, and the conversation you and Lauren had the other day made sense. After all, they had a bond that couldn’t be broken. 

 "I'll... I'll leave you two to your plans." You whispered, with a heavy heart.

Without waiting for their response, you turned and made your way out of the gallery, the heavy weight of uncertainty settling in your chest. As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, you couldn't help but feel like you had let Joel play with your feelings.

You knew that the arrangement between you and Joel was built on a foundation of pretense, but recent events had blurred the lines on that. Before you could gather your thoughts, you heard the door to the gallery swing open behind you, and you turned to see Joel rushing out. His expression was a mix of concern and desperation as he called out to you.

"Bee, wait! Please, let me explain," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he closed the distance between you.

You weren't ready to hear his explanations, not now. You took a step back, your voice laced with hurt as you replied, "Joel, I don't want to hear it right now”

Joel's face contorted with regret, and he reached out to gently touch your arm, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's not what you think, Bee.”

But your heart was too wounded, and you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "Stop playing with fire, Joel”

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Joel standing there, watching you go with a heavy heart.

Deep down on your thinking your phone vibrated, it was Conell,

Conell

Hey, are you free for dinner with me?

You considered Conell's invitation for a moment, after all you could use some distraction from all things running through your head.

You

Sure, is everything alright?

Conell

I'll tell you when we meet. Let's say 9:00? I’ll pick you up.

After confirming the time, you put your phone back in your pocket and watched Joel and Lauren making their way to his car. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy settle into your body. Their interaction seemed natural, so familiar, and you wonder if this is how he had felt about her at the beginning of their relationship. 

Joel opened the car door for Lauren, and as she got in, their laughter echoed through the quiet evening. They seemed at ease with each other, and it made you wonder if all that Joel and you had shared for the past weeks was insignificant. 

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you made your way to your car to arrive home and get ready for your dinner with Connell. Not without shooting a last glance back at Joel before getting into your car, his eyes briefly met yours, and there was a moment of unspoken language in his gaze as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Then, he got into his car and drove away with Lauren by his side. 

Your heart felt heavy after they left. A weight of uncertain feelings was running, making yourself questioning what was happening to you. Shaking your head to clear away the doubts, you started your car, drove home, and got ready for your dinner with Connell. 

As you entered your house and prepared for dinner, you couldn't escape the thoughts of Joel in your mind. It was like he was hunting your brain and your heart and you swore that wasn’t going to happen. You even thought of canceling on Connell but he seemed to want to talk to you about something really important, so you ended up choosing an elegant but simple outfit, doing your best to ignore the pictures of that damn artist in your head. 

When Connell arrived to pick you up, he greeted you with his familiar smile and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Some time ago, that small gesture would make your heart skip a beat, but now you didn't know what was happening.

Both of you arrived at a cozy but elegant restaurant and sat down for dinner. You both caught up in each other's lives, sharing stories of the time you had spent apart.

His career as a doctor and how your life has been going since you parted ways. 

Being with him felt so comfortable and familiar that you even forgot about the mess you had in your life going on in your life right now. The way he threw his head back laughing at your jokes and how you always thought of him as your safe place and person, now brought back to you. 

But as the night passed, Connell's demeanor changed and he took a deep breath before speaking. "There's something I need to tell you."

You looked at him, your curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong?”

He reached across the table and took your hand in his. "I came back not just for a job offer but because... I came back for you”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. "For me?"

Connell nodded; his eyes locked with yours. "No matter where I go or what I do, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you, and I want us to have a second chance."

You were taken aback by his confession. The past had been complicated, but the idea of rekindling your relationship with Connell was both exciting and frightening. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts.

After all, you were single and you could end the stupid agreement with Joel and he could go back to Lauren and be the family they were meant to be, and you could simply ignore how your heart felt at that. 

Connell’s voice broke your thoughts and he was looking at you with his blue eyes filled with sincerity. "I have an opportunity in London, and I want you to come with me.”

a/n: btw I only picture Connell as Paul Mescal and it may be because he played Connell on normal people haha.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascar character imagine #pedro pascal

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi, thank you for taking the time to answer these!

It seems like all successful authors have to be on social media these days. I want to publish my book under a pen name so nobody knows it’s me. How do I succeed at author social media while also being anonymous?

Maintaining Author Anonymity on Social Media

It really depends on what you want to write and how you want to publish. Either way, a pen name isn't a 100% guarantee of anonymity, so that's something to consider before publishing. Whether you self-publish or traditionally publish, you're still conducting business, which requires the involvement of your real name on paper. Some of those documents will be available to the public, so it isn't usually difficult to figure out the real identity behind a pen name.

If you want to traditionally publish, you should keep in mind that the publisher is making a big financial investment in your book, so they want it to sell well so they can make back their investment and make a profit. Part of that may be asking you to do things like book signings, guest appearances, or having visibility on social media. Some publishers won't work with authors who want to be completely invisible, especially if they feel your book would benefit from that kind of visibility in marketing. So, if you pursue traditional publishing, it's something you would want to talk about with your agent once you land one so they can keep that in mind when they look for publishers.

If you want to self-publish, you don't have to worry as much about being visible. There are many who feel that authors do better when they are visible to their readers, but it's certainly not a requirement. You can still have a solid, meaningful social media presence without posting videos or photos of your face, or without giving away intimate details about who you are. You can find a balance with sharing photos and details that feel personal without revealing anything that blows your cover.

Anonymous but "Intimate" Photo Examples:

All of these images give the reader a glimpse into your world and who you are without giving them a full window into your personal life.

If you caption the coloring photo as, "Coloring with the little ones today..." All the reader knows is there are kids in your life, but are they kids, grandkids, neighbors, students, friends' kids? Who knows?

Anonymous but "Intimate" Detail Example:

-- Spent today out shopping with the family. We had lunch at one of our favorite eateries, then went to see a movie. Afterward, we took a walk along the water and came home to play board games. Great day!

With or without an accompanying "semi-anonymous" photo, the above paragraph gives the reader a glimpse into your day without giving too much away. Spent the day with family... your immediate family? Extended family? Found family? No specification of which eatery, which movie, what body of water, or which board games, but it still paints a picture.

Engagement Matters, Too

And remember, for indie authors especially, engagement with your audience is important. Replying to comments, participating in tag games, "signal boosting"/sharing/reblogging posts, posting polls/QOtD/challenges, etc. are all ways you can engage without having to be visible.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → part two!! how this played out was debated for awhile honestly. i hope you guys enjoy and start to understand a little more of the dynamic we’re looking at here. as always, feedback is heavily heavily appreciated and let’s me know you want more. let me know to be added to the taglist! ALSO - a lot of people who commented on part 1 to be added to the taglist don’t have it turned on in settings where i’m able to tag them, so i couldn’t. i won’t be going back through several parts to find your @ so you’ll need to fix it and comment again if you want to be on the taglist in the future.

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → alcohol use, strong language, nsfw content - oral sex

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Ever since the spontaneous car hookup earlier in the week, things had been a sort of comfortably complicated. Joe had driven you to pick up your car, half hard watching your legs cross so delicately as if he hadn’t just ripped your panties off in the backseat. It was more than a turn on for him.

It was a still silence all the way back to the practice facility. He kissed your cheek and told you to have a goodnight, then you grabbed your cheer bag and had gone home. Joe waited to see if he’d hear from you, wanting to see where you stood on the matter before he pushed his way into your space. He was giving you an out if you wanted it.

You wanted to want it.

It was so wrong. You were breaking the biggest rule imposed on you. Yet, you couldn’t. So you didn’t. It took until mid-afternoon the next day when you texted him to get his actual phone number, the texting exclusively through instagram private message felt a little middle school. He happily obliged, not wanting to pressure you into anything.

The conversation was casual, nothing pertaining to the subject of you fucking in the backseat of his Porsche. The only discussion of that was via Venmo, when he sent you money for a Plan B without question. You hadn’t even requested the money, he just let you know through the transaction that he didn’t want to act entitled to knowing if you were on contraception.

He didn’t know why he was so enamored by you. Joe had a very fuck boy-ish college career, he’d done his fair share of sleeping around and having women throw themselves at him. Some would say this has given him a big ego, he partially agreed. It was never about the hookup culture, though. It was more so just what he thought was right for a college athlete, it was what all his friends had done. He’d broken some hearts, for that he wasn’t proud. It was a time in his life that he was focused on two things: football and partying.

It was pretty obvious that you were the opposite to him. He had done a little social media stalking to find out a little more about the so-called rookie Ben-Gal. Just through instagram he saw that you were a very spirited girl during high school, it seemed like you had a serious boyfriend through most of those four years. He sort of disappeared when you came to the University of Cincinnati.

He wondered if he was your first love. Joe hadn’t ever been able to recall a first love for himself. There had been plenty of girls, he just didn’t ever feel like it was love.

He saw that you had maintained the good girl persona through college too. He was shocked that you’d never joined a sorority. Joe came to realize that you really were just a dedicated student athlete through and through. How you ended up as a Bengals cheerleader? He wasn’t sure.

Joe: What’re you up to tonight?

He typed the message out without thinking much of it, it’d been days since you’d last been together. He hadn’t pushed anything since the car incident. He hung back after practice and watched you rehearse the dance choreography for the preseason that would begin in a few days.

Y/N: Not sure yet

Y/N: Why?

He didn’t really know why. Joe wasn’t so selfish that he wanted to get you in trouble for hanging around him. He just wanted to see you.

Joe: I want to see you.

This was a surprise to you. Not that Joe seemed like the type to sleep with a girl and ghost, but he did kind of seem like the type of guy to do that. He was so charming, though. Everything he said to you sent your stomach into somersaults.

Y/N: Do you?

Joe: I really do

Joe: How do you feel about dive bars?

Y/N: LMAOO

When he didn’t respond to that, you realized he wasn’t kidding when he asked you that. Without thinking much, you laughed and began to type again.

Y/N: Oh shit, you’re serious

Y/N: Can’t say I’m very familiar with the scene lol

Joe: Really?

Y/N: I mean, I just turned 21, I don’t really go to frat parties at school. I really only drink with friends. Haven’t been to many bars.

Joe: Fair enough. I know a spot outside of Cincinnati. It’s pretty small, usually pretty deserted. The crowd is older.

This made you nervous, being in public and easily spotted with Joe made you nervous. It wasn’t the fact that anyone would know who you were, being an NFL cheerleader didn’t make you a celebrity. It was more so the possibility of someone snapping a picture of Joe with you in it, Joe is a celebrity and he’s extremely recognizable.

Y/N: Joe, I really don’t want all this to get back to my coaches. It only takes one person to fuck this all up for me before the season even starts..

Joe: I get that. I’m telling you, nobody here is going to be a problem.

-

In between finishing up your hair and adding a red lip tint, you heard a knock on your apartment door. That would definitely be Joe. He’d insisted on coming up to grab you when picking you up, something about being raised decent.

You’d slipped into a navy blue miniskirt and white ribbed tank top. It seemed like the simplest thing for going out to a hole-in-the-wall bar.

“You’re punctual,” you laughed as you opened the door to reveal Joe in a pair of khakis and t-shirt.

“You look,” Joe began, scanning your figure. “I mean you look really great, Y/N.”

He couldn’t help but think about your reddened lips. He didn’t know where the both of you stood on a lot of things, this made him hold back some of what he wished to say.

“Thank you,” your face flushed at his comments.

Both of you just kinda stood there in the doorway for a moment, grinning like high schoolers after their first kiss. Joe’s cheeks were pink, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you retrieve your clutch. His eyes fell to the way your ass looked in that skirt on more than one occasion, or more specifically what it would look like out of that skirt.

“Ready?” You asked.

Joe nodded and you headed down to the complex’s garage. It was a comfortable walk, filled with you having the inability to tear your gaze from his toned arms and back. He definitely noticed you staring, grinning each time he caught you from the corner of his eye.

He opened the passenger side door for you, walking around and getting in himself. He looked so fucking good. There was just something about an attractive guy driving, but Joe took it to a whole different level. He pushed his hand through his hair and backed out seamlessly.

Some A$AP Rocky song was playing in the background as you looked out the window at the lit up city. Joe drummed along the steering wheel. It was obvious every time he attempted to slyly glance at the skirt riding up your thighs.

“How do you think this game in a few days will go?” You said softly.

“Hard to say,” Joe replied. “It’s preseason, so technically it doesn’t matter. To the team it matters, though. Losing these early games give guys like Skip Bayless a reason to rip us apart before the season even starts.”

“You listen to stuff like that?”

“It’s hard not to, they practically shove it down our throats the entire season. Last season was tough, not winning the Super Bowl.”

“You made it, though,” you said. “Counts for something.”

He looked at you, smiling softly and glancing at your lips briefly. Once his eyes were back on the road, you took the opportunity to brush a hand over his arm. He let a deep breath out, chuckling a little. The tension was thick, both of you tiptoeing around the fact that you wanted so desperately to rip the other’s clothes off.

He let you touch him, obviously enjoying it. Maybe he wanted to see how far you’d take it, maybe you wanted to see how far you’d take it. Letting your hand fall to his thigh, you used your thumb to brush over the fabric softly. His breathing became a bit unsteady, eyes flickering to you every few seconds.

When you inched closer to his erection, you gave him a look as if to ask for permission. He nodded, groaning soon after you began to palm him through his pants. He was hard, aching for anything you would give him. You felt yourself heating up, surprised by your own actions when you began to undo the button on his pants, unzipping them and assisting in pulling them down ever so slightly.

He was still driving, eyes very focused on the road now. You let yourself begin to palm him through his briefs now, watching him yearn for your touch more and more.

Joe was driving down a long stretch, the road was deserted and only occupied by him as far as he could see. High beams on, he wondered if he should pull over and fuck you then and there. Or maybe he should see where you were going with this.

“Is this okay?” You asked him, looking up.

“Yeah, more than okay,” he breathed out.

Pulling down his briefs, you tried to maneuver your body into a comfortable position. He was hard in your hand, precum gleaming at the tip. As you let yourself take him in your mouth, he let out a guttural moan. With one hand on the wheel, another found the back of your head and weaved its way into your hair.

This was definitely unsafe.

With your knees bent towards him, your ass was in the air as he started to steadily pace you. He thrusted into your mouth, telling you not to stop. Using your tongue to your advantage, you used your hand to pump where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl, fuck,” he praised you. “Just like that, I really don’t want to crash this car.”

Trying to push him to the back of your throat, you made sure to take it slow. While this was incredibly hot and sexy, Joe was right. One wrong move, he’s crashing you both into a tree.

Letting yourself release him from your mouth, you used your saliva as a lubricant and pumped your hand over top of his shaft. He was breathing hard, letting you gain composure before your mouth was on him again. He couldn’t take it, the way you swirled your tongue to hit every single nerve. It was only when he began to enter the small downtown area that he realized he’d have to forfeit this without finishing.

Pulling up, you wiped your chin and helped him to get his pants done up. This was a space with a decent number of other cars and stoplights. Last thing either of you needed was someone snapping a picture of Joe receiving a blowjob at a red light or something.

You both laughed a little, Joe still very worked up and giving you the side eye. Pulling down the sun visor, you looking into the tiny mirror and realized your red lip had become all smudged. You went into your clutch and grabbed the tint stick out, applying it evenly.

This only turned Joe on more, watching you as he drove down the tiny street. There seemed to be a lot of brick buildings, some people out and about. It was late, though. He pulled into a small side lot, saying this was it.

Stepping out of the car was a breath of fresh air, it had been very hot and sticky after you decided to blow him. Joe adjusted himself, rolling his eyes when you smirked at him. He held a hand out to you, making your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. Then he pulled you down some cellar like set of steps, pushing a heavy green door open to reveal a dimly lit bar. It was a room of purple hues, lights strung up with music playing. There were a few older people, like three or four. All of the bar seats were empty.

“Come sit,” Joe brought you over.

The bartender was easily seventy, she had red hair that was pulled back tightly and an apron tied to her waist. She smiled at you, the tag on her shirt read ‘Jenny’.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” he told her.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic.”

The woman didn’t ask for any ID, she just nodded and smiled. Joe glanced at you, looking around the space and chuckling. You leaned against the bar, taking a sip of your drink as she placed it down. Joe followed suit, talking to you mindlessly about practice.

“Oh my god, it’s Maggie May!” You said over the music, eyes wide when you grabbed Joe and pulled him to the empty space at the middle of the bar.

“What’re you doing?” He laughed.

“We’re dancing!” You smiled, letting him take you by the waist.

He was laughing as you swayed around, spinning in his arms and singing the lyrics as if you were performing them for him. He eventually gained the courage to take your hands and go back and forth a little. The few people occupying the bar watched and whistled, clearly not used to the display.

Taking you in his arms, Joe kissed you sweetly. Watching as you gallivanted him around a little, trying very hard to spin him yourself. Didn’t work very easily when your dance partner was 6’4.

“Oh Maggie I couldn’t have tried anymore! You led me away from home, ‘cause you didn’t want to be alone! You stole my heart, I couldn’t leave you if I tried,” you sang the 70s ballad at him with a large smile.

“You’re beautiful!” He told you over the music.

You both swayed for a moment or so, flustered and laughing at yourselves. Once the song ended, the three or four people watching chuckled with you. Talking about how they remembered when that song had come out.

When you returned to you seats at the bar, you both drank for awhile and made small talk about life. Joe brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face back, making you smile and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I like hanging out with you,” you confessed.

It felt like such a small statement, something a sixteen year old would utter to her crush. It was how you felt, though. Joe lit up some suppressed youth within you, he made you feel like a young girl just coming into herself. He was older than you, more mature, well established. It made you question what he saw in you in the first place.

“I like hanging out with you too,” he said in almost a whisper. “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

Nodding, he walked to the back of the bar. He left his phone face up. His wallpaper was a photo of him and Ja’Marr Chase at the Super Bowl last season. It was sweet, they seemed very close.

A minute or so passed and his phone went off with two texts, one after the other. It felt disrespectful to glance and read them, but anyone would’ve. He left his phone when he could’ve easily grabbed it.

Ava: Missing you.

Ava: Come over?

There was a sudden lurching in your stomach, like you were going to be sick or something. The feeling lasted for a few seconds, leaving you to pull out your own phone and open the Uber app.

“How much was the tab?” You asked the woman, handing her your card and signing all within the span of about a minute.

“You alright, honey?” She asked, watching you grab your clutch to leave.

No.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

Walking out the same way you came in was easy enough, the Uber would be a few minutes so you’d have to wait outside. You were angry, of course, but more so just hurt and upset over the fact that you thought he was actually interested in you.

This was your fault. Your own naive stupidity. This was a twenty five year old NFL quarterback, what the fuck would he want with you? Sex, clearly. That much was obvious. In the end, Joe wasn’t your boyfriend. Not at all, not even a little bit. He was some guy who you barely knew, some guy you’d maybe even misjudged a little bit.

Leaning against the brick of the building, you felt the tears begin to well up. How could you be so fucking stupid?

“Y/N?” Joe came up the steps. “What’s wrong? What’re you doing?”

“Fuck you, Joe,” you sighed into your hands. “I mean seriously, what the fuck do you get out of stringing me along while you’ve already clearly got a girlfriend or a fuck buddy at least!”

He looked confused, a line forming between his eyebrows when suddenly realization washed over him. He got sort of pale all of sudden, embarrassment flushing his face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that. I promise you, it’s not like that with her. There’s more to the situation—”

“Go to hell, Joe,” you sniffled. “Or better, go see Ava. She misses you.”

He stood there silent for a moment, unable to find the words to express how sorry he was for how he made you feel. He could see through the yellow hue of the streetlight that you were crying. His fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm, cursing himself for not bringing his phone into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re sorry I saw,” you spit back. “Get the fuck away from me, Joe. I’m taking an Uber home.”

“Let me drive you home, at least. If you never want to speak to me again after that, okay. Just let me take you home.”

When you said nothing, he knew that was it. He’d have to accept defeat there. Anything he said would make it worse, seeing as there really wasn’t a way to make the situation better. There was no excuse, no way to make you see his point of view.

The silence between you was hard and rigid, the only sound being the ambiance of the outside and your occasional sniffling. The worst part was that he’d led you to believe he liked you. That was why it hurt so badly.

The sleek black SUV pulled up and you pushed off the wall you’d been leaning against. Not being able to bear giving Joe a second glance, you went straight to opening the door and hopping inside.

Joe didn’t try and stop you. It wasn’t his place. He only stood there under the streetlight, watching the car drive off and eventually disappear. He felt horrible, running a hand through his hair and walking towards the brick you’d just leaned against. Pressing his forehead to the cold structure, he tried to bring himself to some conclusion.

“Fuck,” was all he muttered.

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

#joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #protective joel #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedrostories #soft!joel miller #soft joel miller #possessive joel #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us joel #no outbreak!joel miller #no use of y/n #moulin rouge au #moulin rouge #forbidden love #joel angst #angst

[everlastlady]

Love Me, Love Me Part 2

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✰ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! My heroes, villains, and civilians welcome to part two of yandere Miguel O 'Hara hcs, I decided to name it love love me because usually when I write yandere shit I think of the song stalker tango by auto hearts. I'll leave it on here so that you guys can listen to the song, I wanna thank those for the support because they'll be in the tags. I might do a part 3 but if you love this story please remember to comment, heart, and reblog. Don't forget to take your medicine, drink water, shower, and rest. And remember always support your local writers.

✰ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @miguelslefteyebrow @s0fia4 @aliensbelieveinme-blog1 @selarus

✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mental abuse, drugging, and threats.

✰ Part 1

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♡ You lost track of how many days you been with Miguel but you always waited for him to come home. You would greet him with a hug and a kiss like he taught you. Because if you didn't then he would punish you and you certainly didn't want to go back to the punishment room. So you always gave him a kiss and a hug. Miguel would make you both dinner while talking about his day and the society. You tried asking Miguel if you could visit the society, that you would behave and stay by his side. " No my love forget about the society all you need is here and all you need is me so don't you dare ask again or else... " He would squeeze the pot handle almost breaking it. So you didn't dare ask again and just enjoyed dinner with Miguel.

♡ You couldn't leave the apartment ever. If you needed something then Miguel would get it or have it delivered. He couldn't risk you escaping or letting anyone see you. Miguel had a security system to make sure you couldn't leave. It was lonely and Miguel could tell that you were lonely so he got you a cat which you named (cat's name) and you loved that cat but now whenever you stepped out of line Miguel would threaten you by saying he'll kill the cat in front of you or leave it somewhere on the city streets. Not wanting to part with the fluffy creature that made you happy, you listened.

♡ A part of you loved Miguel but a part of you knew it was wrong that it wasn't love. But you couldn't help but stay wrapped around Miguel's finger. Sometimes you would catch yourself kissing him without him asking you to give him a kiss, you would beg him to stay instead of going to the society, and you would cuddle up to him during the night. Miguel sometimes did work for home and keep you in his lap.

♡ Now did Miguel stop drugging your food? No sadly, he continued doing this but with a special drug he made himself. This drug would keep you weak and make your brain feel fuzzy. Just a few drops here and there. You knew about the drugs but Miguel always forced you to eat since you didn't want to be punished. You haven't been punished in a long while until you made a small mistake a simple misunderstanding.

♡ You wanted to do something nice for Miguel while he was sleeping. It took you a while but you were finally free from his steel grip. You were going to make breakfast in bed for Miguel, maybe he'll give you more privileges if start showing more affection. But due to always feeling sluggish from the drugs you burnt the pancakes. You threw open the window for fresh only for the alarm system to go off. You jump from the noise but bump into someone and that someone was your lovely boyfriend Miguel who didn't look so happy.

♡ " Trying to escape.... I thought we were making progress cariño... " Miguel's grip tightens on your shoulders that it starts to hurt. You tried to explain to Miguel that you weren't escaping that you were trying to make breakfast for him. " Lies! I don't think I don't see how you look at the doors and windows, don't sit here and lie to my face (name)! I bet this whole breakfast thing was just part of your plan... tch looks like I have to put you back in the punishment room all that progress out the window, like you were going right? " Miguel picked you up and carried you down the hallway.

♡ You clawed at Miguel's back while crying and screaming that you were telling the truth. Telling him that you love him and don't want to go back into the punishment room but Miguel wouldn't listen. He threw you into the room and the last thing he send made your blood run cold as if you lost all your colors. " Hopefully when I let you out in a couple of weeks that (cat's name) is still with us. " Miguel smirked and closed the door leaving you in the dark. You panic and cry in the corner hoping that Miguel doesn't do anything to your cat. You would even call out your cat's name just wanting to hear them respond. You didn't sleep all night long and only listened for any signs of your cat.

♡ " Miguel, I think (name) was actually trying to cook for you. I was watching them and it looked like they had no intentions of escaping don't you think you were a little harsh on them, besides they know about the security system so why would they try to escape. " Lyla said while flashing on Miguel's shoulder. Miguel sighed, Lyla was right and now he felt like a fool because he definitely was going to get rid of your cat. He set down the cat. And left the house telling Lyla that he'll be back. After an hour Miguel returned with some bags and placed them down in the shared bedroom.

♡ You sat on the mattress feeling hungry, cold, and lonely. But the door opened. You sat up seeing Miguel and started to fear for the worst. Miguel walked over and picked you up, he walked down the hallway and placed you in your guys bedroom. You were about to get up to call for your cat. " Stay... " Miguel said in a strict tone. And you did. Miguel left as you looked at the many bags on the floor in confusion. Miguel returned and your eyes light up he hands you your cat that you quickly took. Giving your sweet furry baby kisses on the head and petting them.

♡ " I'm sorry mi amor, it took Lyla to convince me that you were telling the truth. I'm sorry that I overreacted, I just can't loose you especially since you are so weak and helpless that anyone could just take you from me. It's just you and me no one understands me like you do and only I understand. You'll never meet another me, I know it will take a little getting used to but I hope these gifts make up for me, putting you inside the punishment room. " Miguel gestured towards the bags. You set down your cat and went through the bags. Miguel got you books, pajamas, plush toys, snacks, and things you had on your wish list before Miguel took you away.

♡ You smiled softly and hug him. " Thank you Miggy. " you said. " I forgive you. " Those words didn't feel right coming off your tongue and none of these gifts could make up for the abuse that Miguel has put you through, but for some reason you loved what he did to make you happy apart of you felt like you deserved the punishment.

♡ Miguel and you made an agreement that you weren't to leave the bed unless you had to pee or shower. That Miguel would do the cooking and if you were every thirsty that he would get you something to drink. You guys even made this in contract form. Miguel was happy to have you love him and forgive him. But he wanted more so he decided why not marry you and maybe start a family. Maybe having children would make you not focus on leaving him and you won't be lonely. So he decided he'll pop the question on your birthday.

♡ While Miguel was attending to business at the spider society. You were laying in bed with (cat's name) and playing stardew valley on the switch that Miguel had gotten you. But you heard a noise. " Miguel? " You called out but no answer. He was probably mad, Miguel usually came home mad because of being frustrated by the other spiders. But when you stepped out of the room you an old friend from the spider society. " Danny? " You looked at the spider who's spider outfit strangely resembled the fictional character ghost face but regardless Danny was someone you were close with at the society.

♡ " (Name)! I finally found you, Miguel that lying asshole! I should have known something was up when he told us that you wanted nothing to do with us. I remembered you told me that the society was home to you that we were your family, come on let's get you out of here. " Danny reached for your hand but you stepped back and shook your head. " I-I love it here Danny and I l-love Miguel... " You said. Danny was confused. " (Name).... You don't have to be scared of him, I'll protect you. " Danny tried reaching out but someone grabbed his shoulder.

♡ " You heard them, they love it here and love me, but you won't like it here soon Daniel.... "

♡ Part 3?

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