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tremendum · 1 year

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Mr. Miller

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)

word count: 6.8k requested: yes. here and here :)

summary: “six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.”

warnings: Jackson era, mentions of marijuana use, age gap (unspecified), sliiightly dub!con, smut (PiV, unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, choking, spit kink, slight knife kink (do not look at me), dom!Joel (brat tamer!Joel if you squint), slight sir kink, so much dirty talk, lots of begging, degradation kink, dacryphilia, mean!Joel, this is just shameless smut i am horrible notes: okay i kind of modified these asks but I thought it’d be fun to write it like this!!! as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because i am INSANE! xoxo

( read the sequel other Joel fics: fever landmines )

★

to be completely honest, you never would’ve guessed you’d move to Wyoming.

of course, in this world you didn't really have much of a choice of where you end up; it was hard to travel, yes, but there was some guiding hand that invisibly pushed you upon Jackson in the middle of a really rough winter.

a girl, lost and on her own through the dangerous sprawls of what's left of the United States - of course Tommy and Maria had accepted you into the community; you were resourceful, willing, and strong-headed.

most of Jackson was nice.

the people were good, the community functioned, and you were finally safe - you found a job working partly as a patrolman if an extra hand was needed, but mostly as a gardener.

it was a beautiful basin valley with sprawling mountains that glittered in the snow even during summer.

you'd only been there for - what, maybe half a year? six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone.

Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.

you didn't particularly get off on the correct foot with Joel Miller. when he showed up in town, people were thrown off. you surely understood that - but it was Tommy's brother, and Tommy insisted he would be fine; he and the girl with him had already been 'round Jackson before, leaving just a week or so before you showed up, apparently.

you'd definitely heard about him.

coincidentally, you'd actually moved into the house that Tommy had wanted Joel to have; the house that had the spare girl's bedroom which Ellie came through to ravage once they came back into town. (apparently the towels at Joel's were too rough no matter how many times they were washed, and Ellie really liked that Tamagotchi you'd found in the bedroom she once slept in.)

maybe that'd already put him off, the short time in which Ellie had found company in you. who knows.

but unfortunately, your first impression of him was muddled by a very real lens of beer-goggles and a long week's aching exhaustion in your brain. he was large, a tall man whose disposition dripped of domineering power; he didn't trust anybody here and by the looks of it, they didn't particularly adore him. he kept to himself besides Tommy - who unfortunately along with his wife were really your closest comrades in the community.

you almost felt bad for him, because that's how many people saw you at first. but on that night, you were just drunk enough, as you greeted Maria and Tommy at the bar with smiles and a joke about your libido, that you didn't quite realize that Tommy's big brother Joel was sat there, eyes watching you with a glimmer of something lurking behind the rim of the beer bottle.

to be fair: everybody in this life is unkind in their first impressions. that's just how the world is now - 'every man for himself' is an unfortunately ugly reality and those who are too soft to see that are rarely spared the gore.

but when Tommy introduces you to Joel with a huff of a laugh and a friendly slap on your shoulder, Joel's eyes are distrusting, judging. he doesn’t say anything to you.

you try not to be offended.

"pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Miller." you nod with a grin, your cheeks hot with slight intoxication as his large, calloused palm slips into yours. his grip is tight - your wince is covered with your words as you momentarily shoot Maria a look, turning back to the man in front of you.

"I met your girl earlier. stormed into my house like she owned the damn thing. was lookin' for some stuff she'd found last time, I guess. I'm just glad she didn't find my collection of big-girl toys."

okay. okay, yeah, maybe you are too drunk. Maria laughs, at least, and Tommy lets out a chuckle, eyes flickering to Joel. but he just hums, eyes glancing over you once more before returning to nurse his dark beer with a furrow of his brows. “right.”

and pathetic as it is, he was too damn irresistible; you’d imagined that stare -that brooding scowl- one too many times in the dead of night, hands down your pants or in a stranger’s bed.

and it hadn't gotten better in the months following.

it was of circumstances most unfortunate for you that Joel and Ellie moved into a house just a few down from you - as much as you wished to just never see the man and his censorious stare, it was unavoidable. especially when Ellie showed up nearly day-to-day with questions, excuses, or even just complaints of boredom to coax you into letting her inside your house.

a week or so ago, you’d overheard Tommy in a hushed voice down at the dining hall trying to convince Joel it was a good thing, that Ellie was learning to garden, learning about woman stuff (yes, he actually fucking said that), and - god forbid- make friends.

but you love Ellie.

she in't like Joel. she’s funny, and lively, and easy-going once you warmed up to her. in fact, you actually started to collect things from around town to show her on her ceremonious visits; books, tattered board games, once you even found a trumpet in the crawlspace of your old house. it was rusty and honestly probably still had dried saliva from whichever fifth-grader played it way back before the outbreak, but it was enough to entertain you and the fifteen-year-old girl for hours even if neither of you knew how to play it.

and maybe it was after Ellie mentioned to you with a giggle that Joel complains about you calling him ‘Mr. Miller,’ or maybe it was when she said he’d always ask about you and what you’re like whenever she returned from your days together.

no matter what the catalyst really was, you just know you have it bad for that man, in the worst way - because he is a fucking asshole.

but the worst of it was when Joel and you get paired up to patrol together on the outskirts. it means hours together of breathing and awkward looks, silence from you because he was silent and clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

you suffered through hours of Joel’s rugged sageness for survival, tugging you effortlessly through boulders, lifting yourselves high through dilapidated structures in the middle of the wilderness. he was strong and capable and fucking sexy, and that made it all the more unbearable when snide comments about your youth or your inexperience or your lack of punctuality would pass his lips. it was annoying how hot it made you.

as the summer rolled around, the horde was growing ever-present at the lips of Jackson county, festering like the moss that spreads along the woodsy forests in the northwest - hence your increased activity with the others who patrol the area and keep the community safe.

he was a many of almost no words, and though you were in no way the same when you were around people you trust, the man just brings out the skeptic in you - so for weeks, it was days of the two of you walking in silence, the only noise being weak impasses and jabs at the other’s self-esteem all veiled by a smirk or an eye-roll.

and still, each day out passed with your untrustworthy gazes pinned on the horizon just as much on each other's trigger fingers.

you're at your wit's end on one Friday evening as you finally return into town from patrol with him.

Joel is a man plagued by too many unnamed illnesses; the likes of which you so fondly call in your head 'can't-accept-help-itis' and 'stubborn-old-asshole-luenza.' part of his symptoms render him unable to say full sentences to you without a judgmental look or a skeptical scoff, and sure you're not always the best judge of character, but you're confident that Joel has his eyes on your backside every single time you bend over to move your marker on the trail. he’s thought about it, too.

but right now, you’re so tense you’re about to snap.

his gaze hasn't left your profile for - you swear to god - almost thirty fucking minutes. like, nearly the whole walk from the first outpost. he’s been staring at you like you’re a ghost, or a second head sprouted from your neck.

the heat of the summer night is unsullied; though you’re high in elevation, the warm wind blows a gust over your bare knees and ruffles your hair, coaxing a damp feeling to settle between your thighs under his gaze.

"if you stare any harder at me, you'll get a fucking nose bleed." you sneer, keeping your eyes ahead as you grit your teeth. his gaze is burning into your side and with your words, they maintain their heat.

whatever he was thinking, he keeps it to himself. you glare at his own profile, thick thighs, sturdy chest, hair that blows gently in the warm air. his jaw, glinting against the lights that guide you back into town. at least he’s looked away from you. good.

your victorious smirk is wiped off of your lips with his next words, the first in several hours from him besides grunts and directives. "d'you have the logs on you?"

you look at him with revelation. "shit." you sigh shaking your head, "they're- they're at home."

his face slides into a look of disdain, deep vexation at the task of now going back with you to your own house to sign the logs and confirm your findings for this patrol. "great." he mutters, feet kicking into gear to hightail it up the street, towards your house.

the heat is swirling around your legs in the darkening evening as you finally enter your house, sighing into the empty air. the lights flicker when you switch them on, and you'd bring yourself to be more embarrassed about the disheveled state of your things if it had been anyone else with you.

it doesn’t even matter, after all; his sights are set one one incriminating little piece of evidence in the corner of the living room.

the small nub that sits on the tray by your windowsill seems to be more salient for Joel than the hurricane that threw your belongings across the space.

your hands fall onto your hips, sighing as he accusingly lifts it from its ashy grave, eyes furrowed in irritation. your flannel sticks to your sleeves in the heat as his eyes meet yours.

"is this- 's this marijuana?" he's incredulous as his fingers pinch the burnt-out roach, and you screw your brows at him; is he serious? you ignore the dwarfed look of the small old joint in his large hand, instead rolling your eyes. "yeah, some folks call it weed. you can smoke it and it makes you feel real good. you ever heard of it, Mr. Miller?" you snark, the sarcasm spilling from your lips deliciously; Joel eats it up like a man starved, his jaw ticking as he tilts his head.

you know he secretly loves when you taunt him with the honorific; yes, it gets on his nerves, but there’s a secret air about him that suggests he likes it that way. it is easier to blur the lines between hate and desire than affection and desire, after all.

"Ellie comes over here every day." he hisses, eyes sharp. you blink slowly at him, trying to fight the laugh that creeps up your throat; his gaze is dark, furious - did he think you were smoking weed with the girl? she's, like, thirteen. (fifteen, she corrects you in your mind. but still.)

"that’s correct." you confirm, turning from him to search the kitchen for the log you'd forgotten in your haste to leave. his footsteps ring angry onto the floorboards. "if you're worried about that, I’d never smoke around her. 'm not that disrespectful." you defend, avoiding eye contact as you shuffle through your drawer of junk.

"doesn’t matter. she won't be coming round much more." he threatens it - tests the waters. as if he has the authority to punish you.

you lift a brow at him, "don’t you think she should be able to make that choice?" you throw back at him, tossing your switchblade onto the table to your right as you sort through the miscellaneous items with both hands.

uh oh, that struck a nerve in the man.

his eyes sharpen as he breathes harsh at your words; "don't talk about things you know nothing about, girl." he snaps, crossing his arms, "now find the fucking log so I can leave."

you glare at him, gesturing in front of you; your eyes scream no shit, Joel, I’m looking.

it's silent as you search through the drawer, gritting your teeth in the tense silence of anger, thicker than molasses.

you click your jaw, refusing to let it go, let him think he won.

"I do have self respect, y'know." you pipe up, lifting a brow as you finally stumble upon the log, pulling a dying pen from the drawer and scribbling notes as you plop down on a wooden chair at your kitchen table.

Joel stays standing; it does not go unnoticed when his eyes take in the contours of your body, the clothes that stick to you in the heat of the summer; a pair of jean shorts, torn from years of use, and a thin tank top, covered with an unbuttoned flannel. his eyes sear into you at your words.

wow. fuck him.

(no, not like fuck him, but- fuck him.)

"never said you didn't, darlin'." he mutters condescendingly, the pet name leaving his mouth bitterly. any form of backlash you were going to unleash on his dies in your throat quickly when he leans over your shoulder to sign his own name next to yours. your eyes widen to search his face as his own skim over your account of the patrol. he's- wow, he's closer to you than you would have expected.

holy shit. smoky swirls of gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey. they fill your nostrils, dizzying your mind as you let out a stuttered breath - it's hot in here... your eyes glance as a small lick of sweat trickles down his neck. your throat is dry, heat swirling in your abdomen as he hums, "jus' think Ellie should start hangin' around with others."

"why's that?" you snap, daring him to say it. fuck, your heart is pounding in your chest. oh, if he just admits it; that he thinks he's better than you, that he thinks you're pathetic - lord, you yearn for it, you’d have a fucking field day. you want an excuse to hit him. or bite him.

fuck Joel Miller, and- okay, fine. fuck him, too.

his brows are furrowed as he glares hawkishly at your stubborn form; his gaze is serrated with disdain, jaw clenching with the words you're just begging him to admit.

"she's been cussin' and speaking...vulgar." he mutters, eyes flickering away from you. your jaw unhinges as you huff in surprise; he has the audacity to accuse you for teaching her to be foul-mouthed? hadn't she traveled with him for, what, a year? she’s a teenager - that’s what they do.

"oh, please." you snap, "that girl was far from a princess when you showed up here, you know." you mutter, tossing a look over your shoulder up at him, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt staring at you, mocking you.

"I know." he dismisses. his hand falls to stable himself on the back of your chair as he leans down towards you, "but you ain't helping. don't need her gettin' into any more trouble."

you narrow your eyes, "trouble?" you parrot, accusing.

the air is warm, thick as you cross your arms, the windows open and flowing the outside summer air into your nostrils. "how could I be trouble? you hardly know me." you snap, offended. you swirl with irritation.

"because I listen. people think you're harsh. untrustworthy." he spits, smirking down at you as if his words are poison that'll dissolve your whole being into a small puddle of regret. but no, it's gasoline; his words are enough to incite your flames, lick you alive with ardor.

he doesn't like you? oh, big fucking deal. you don't like him.

"you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Miller?" you drawl, lifting an accusatory brow. “what if you’re the bad influence? it’s not like you have any more manners than I do.”

his jaw sets and his nostrils flare from his sharp exhale; you let your eyes swipe over the splattering of freckles that peek out from under the scruff beard that grows; a scar jags across his skin, frown lines creasing his scowl in a dark, terribly attractive way. you’re tip-toeing a line here, you can feel it.

he can feel it, too.

his eyes dip down, though you try hard to hold his heated gaze; they trail slowly over your shoulders and down, down to the dip of your collarbones and then over your breasts, heaving slightly with the proximity of the man. his gaze nearly melts the tank top that stretches over your torso and a flood of excitement rushes through you, pooling in the seat of your underwear. a smirk creeps onto your face at his wandering stare - resentful, loathing, heated.

something in you snaps, and you can't deal with it any longer; not with his proximity, leaning over your shoulder and staring you down, with half-rolled sleeves. his forearms, they’re thick- goddamn, he's so-

"-I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you want to kill me, or you want to fuck me." you snap, breaking his spell as you snap his attention back to your own eyes with your bold choice of words. "either way, it'll have to wait. I got shit to do, Mr. Miller, and for some reason, you're still in my house giving me fuck-me-eyes."

"-you better watch your mouth." he snarls, chest heaving as he leans forward menacingly, his jaw clenched.

you let yourself smile up at him, "or what, Mr. Miller?" you ask kindly, voice dripping with perfidious innocence.

he sneers, eyes raking over your form, jaw ticking. your body flushes with warmth under his scrutinous gaze; one of your bare legs slides up to rest on the chair next to you, on full display snd illuminated in the light of the kitchen as you smirk at him. his dark chocolate gaze slides over the skin revealed; your skin tingles in excitement under his watch. it makes you chuckle.

"what, you don't like the way I speak?" you hiss, glaring at him. "chastising me for shit that you do, too?" you mutter snidely, pulling your leg back down as his eyes glare into yours. "I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to say. fucking hypocrite."

your hand presses into his chest, standing to your full height. his chest is firm, hot, but he lets you do it easily, moving back out of your space; giving you an out, offering you a chance to say this-isn't-what-I-want. but you won't take it. no, instead you slide up closer to him, until you're too close.

"why so quiet now, Mr. Miller?" you almost purr, your hand still toying with your switchblade, the glint of it reflecting in his eyes. slowly, you lift the blade to trace it gently, softly over his jawline, as you’d do with your fingers. he watches you like a damn hawk, breathing heavy.

the scratch of it against the facial hair is enough for him to snap; suddenly snatching the blade from between your fingers in one quick motion.

“you’re testin’ my patience.” he growls, shaking his head as he holds the handle of the knife in an iron-like grip. you shake your head, “yeah, well, you’ve taken all mine.” you counter. “so…” you start, raising a brow at the knife in his hands, the way your legs are turning to putty, “you going to kill me, Mr. Miller? or fuck me?” you whisper it into his ear, up on the tips of your toes as the peppering-gray curls at the base of his ear tickle your lips.

a sharp exhale - almost a surrender. then, a rough hand pushes you down against the table, hard. your body is pliant, willing, excited as his force brings you to thud against the wood, his hand flying down quick just to your right in a loud thud.

your head snaps to your right, eyes wide and jaw open; your switchblade pins your own flannel to the table, stabbed down and holding the material and your arm in place. christ, it barely missed nicking your skin.

“depends on if you can learn some goddamn manners.” he growls, leaning over you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

maybe it’s the look on his face, or just how damn long it’s been since you had someone, or just because it’s Joel – but your facade falls so quick and you’re soon keening up towards him, arching your back so your chest sticks out.

“I’m a fast learner.” you promise; at that, he merely hums, his hips grinding slow over yours. you let your eyes squeeze shut, groaning lightly at the bliss of his rough denim sliding against your shorts-clad cunt, throbbing with desire.

you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of his hips against yours, licking your lips to wet them; “fuck, Joel-“ your breath is strangled, “please. I can be good for you.” you try to convince him, blinking your eyes up at him. his smirk is downright evil as his hands fall to your top, skating over the tops of your breasts before one hand grips your jaw in his large palm, squeezing hard onto your cheeks and forcing you to stare into his eyes.

his grip is unforgiving. “y’think you can jus’ bat those pretty eyes at me?” he sneers, his breath hot and fanning over your face. you’re overheating- god, it’s so fucking hot in your house; your hand raises to grip his forearm, swallowing your pride for the sake for finally getting to feel him inside you, “’m sorry, Joel.” you mutter, cheeks squished by his hand.

his brow furrows, shaking his head. a chastising tutting noise escapes his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding sloooow and smooth against your dripping cunt, aching with desire.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he spits, pushing you harder against the table. your throat is dry, a whimper of desire escaping your throat. his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans more of his weight on you, your legs wrapping around his hips and your own surging up, up in search for some friction, “say it. say you’re not sorry. you like it, I can tell.”

shivers spill down your spine as you bite back a moan, cheeks alight with heat at his teasing. Your eyes lull over towards the blade that holds down your shoulder, pinning you against the table. a hot rush of arousal floods your underwear as you swallow, eyes rising to meet his in a lidded gaze.

“I like it,” you admit in a shameful gasp, hand sliding up to explore his chest, “I’m- I’m not sorry. I like it, ‘m not sorry.” you mutter, voice desperate, pathetic; you’re swallowing a whimper as he grinds slowly against you again, his hardened cock straining against his jeans.

his hand snaps to pin yours down to the edge of the table; your eyes snap up to his, meeting the swirling lust within his deep eyes, searching your face with a dangerous smirk. “you aren’t sorry?” he asks, voice dripping with condescending cockiness.

you shake your head no desperately, searching his eyes to see if he’s pleased.

he smirks at your desperation. "you will be, darlin’." he mutters, his own eyes exploring your chest as it heaves, breasts barely spilling out the top of your tank top’s hem. you smile up at him despite your desperation; hunger curls in your chest as you move your hips up against him and his face falters, a groan escaping his throat. his eyes swirl with the dark shine of a man who is nothing less than dangerous.

the hand that isn’t pinned by the blade creeps up his arm, brushing the thick cords of muscle that rope his bicep and shoulders; soon, though, one of his hands is gripping your wrist and slamming it down against the edge of the table.

you gasp from the roughness, biting your lip as your fingers curls around the edge and hold tight under his grip.

“don’t move your hands,” he mutters as his lips dip low to trace over the seam of your top, breath brushing over the soft skin of your breasts. “or I’ll leave you here, pinned to this table.”

arousal floods you at his words and you nod silently, swallowing as his teeth bite roughly at your pressure point. “d’you hear me, girl?” he grunts, his hands moving to pull out one of your breasts from your top, your peaked nipple instantly tugged between his prying fingers.

you let out a yelp at the sensation and he huffs against your skin, biting again. “fuck,” you whimper loudly, bucking your hips as your hands grip tight against the edge of the table; one arm is pinned with the knife anyways, but your heart thunders as his tongue peaks out, brushing hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

A hand snakes to your throat and you can’t stop the moan you let out, air sucking through your windpipe at the light grip he keeps; you’re obsessed with how all-consuming he is.

Joel’s everywhere – his smell, his eyes, his hands, tongue – you want him to be inside you, you want him to be in you forever, ever, ever.

fuck Joel Miller. fuck him, and fuck him.

“I asked you something. answer me.” he squeezes your throat as he emphasizes, as he demands you; you buck up against him, convinced you’re soaking through your goddamn shorts, leaving disgusting proof of your sick, twisted arousal as you move against his crotch.

his dominance causes your face to flare with heat; you weren’t expecting him to seduce you into submission - you love it. “y-yes, yes, sir. I he-heard you.” you gasp, face flushing hot as the words leave you. he smirks darkly as he pulls away from you, danger lurking in his eyes deliciously as he nods, seemingly pleased.

he nods. “good.”

his hips are gone from you in an instant and your gasp is choked – but he wastes no time in popping the button on your jeans, sliding them and your underwear off of you in one long motion.

his pupils somehow blow even wider as he stands in front of you, palming his thick cock through his jeans, watching you pant hard.

you’re exposed in front of him – your pussy is swollen with need, pulsing with desire as one of your breasts rests exposed to the air as the knife pins you down by the arm of your flannel; you’re fucking exposed and you love it. he’s intoxicating.

“you’re soaked.” he says after a moment of silence so long that you barely register his gruff voice. you blink, bringing your eyes back up to his from where he’s begun to undo his belt.

you can’t help the light smirk as you stare up at him, “maybe I happen to like it when you’re vulgar with me.”

he glares at you but there’s a hint of something more that flashes through his eyes; adoration? no, it couldn’t be. Joel Miller can’t adore anything.

but then out of nowhere his fingers delve through your velvet, slippery folds in a fervor; your breath chokes yet again in your lungs as you tense with the sudden stimulation.

a low, guttural moan falls from your lips as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub tight, slow circles on your clit, “bet you taste so good, don’t you?” he murmurs, his teeth finding purchase upon your neck, sucking a mark so hard you’re sure you’ll have it for weeks. christ. “y’want me to taste you, pretty girl?”

fuck. images flash through your mind of him on his knees, tongue unraveling you, drowning in you while your thighs close around those thick greying curls.

your moan falls from you fast, nodding quick, “yes, yes, please, please, use your mouth.“ your whines are downright embarrassing – you’re not a wide-eyed virgin teen, for fuck’s sake – but Joel’s stirring you just right, making you purr with pleasure.

but instead of his tongue, a harsh swat falls onto your aching cunt and your hips jolt at the stimulation, your clit throbbing and the sting making you groan his name. you can’t help the moan of disappointment.

“well, isn’t that too bad?” he snarls, his voice mean. you feel tears of frustration spring in your eyeline as you huff a sigh, his fingers slowly, torturously moving over your clit yet again. “bet you’d love if I ate your cunt. probably dream about it, don’t ya? d’you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Christ, you’d never expected Joel-don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-Miller to be so fucking dirty; but you learned your lesson last time, so you nod quick, eyes lidded through the euphoric, teasing pleasure from the pads of his fingers.

“all-all the time, J-Joel, fuck, think about you all the time.”

and it’s true.

“that’s right. my slut, thinkin’ about me.” he spits, mouth peppering bites over your throat. “gonna have to make y’cum fast, baby. Maria’s probably waiting for us t’turn in the logs.”

the possession in his voice brings you even further towards the edge, catapulting you, sending you frustratingly close as your body tenses, puckering hole clenching around nothing as he slowly works you.

you nod your head, unable to open your eyes as your legs close around Joel’s fingers; in anger, his hand tears your thighs apart, swatting the soft skin of your thighs in punishment. you yelp at the sting, biting your lip as a new gush of arousal leaks from your neglected hole and drips down onto the table.

fueled by frustration and adrenaline and some desperate fire of attraction that’s been burning between you since he first showed up in Jackson, you nearly scream, “please, fuck me now, Joel, please I’ll do anything-“

his hand leaves his ministrations quick, his glare sharp as his fingers glisten with your desperate arousal; they’re soaked. you feel yourself flush in embarrassment until he smirks darkly, tugging himself out of the confines of his jeans. “there, see? learnin’ some manners.”

his cock is heavy and thick as it slides through your wet, slick folds. your breath, panting out and puffing as you watch in awe. his: stuttering as the tip of his dick notches at your clenching hole, teasing.

“Jesus, you’re trying t-to swallow me, darlin’.” His hand reaches out, grabbing a palm full of your tit as he rocks his hips, once again nudging your leaking hole.

your whole body shivers in anticipation; you will your eyes to not reveal how fucking turned on you are about his size - you’re more wet than you’ve ever been in your life and his cock is - well, it’s thick, long, bigger than you’d like to admit.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy.” he grunts to himself as you hold yourself as still as possibly, one tear escaping as you your eyes clench shut in desire.

“’m ready, Joel.” you whimper, eyes opening to find his hot gaze already searing through you; he just smirks, nodding slightly. “yeah, bet you are, pretty girl.”

he can’t thrust all the way into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt slick with arousal but still so goddamn tight. the rumbling moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. your fingers twitch at your sides as you yearn to card your fingers through his thick curls; his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “s’tight, baby, fu-fuckin’ tight.”

“so much,” you whimper, fingers tight and shaking as you restrain from grabbing his arms to stabilize himself, “‘s too much.” you mumble, tears stinging. he hums, the ghost of a kiss over your cheek before he’s in your ear, whispering, “am I too big for you, baby? gonna hav’ta work you open on my fingers first next time, yeah?”

his dark grin grows as you nod your head dumbly, ��fuck- yeah, yes.” you agree, nodding,

his voice is starting to slur, accent getting thicker as he soon splits you fully, speared and sheathed deep, deep into you. you’re fluttering around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly breaking you open as he starts to shallowly thrust.

you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he pulls out, thrusting back into you slow, grinding, deep.

all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling coiling in your abdomen.

his hands roam.

they explore every part of you they can reach, his teeth marking every inch of your throat and painting you into a beautiful piece of art. for him.

the noise of your pussy swallowing his girth in is downright filthy as it echoes through your kitchen; your head lulls to the side as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel stray tears leak down your cheeks, hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close, already, you know he can feel it.

“y’gonna-“ he grunts, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as yours leak down your cheeks, body shaking with desire, “-gonna take my cock and say thank you, ‘s that right?”

a shaking rush of arousal just slickens you even more; the sounds of his body rocking into yours wet and loud in the room as you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast.

but it seems you weren’t quick enough with your response: Joel’s hips slow, then stop completely.

you’re left gasping, eyes wide as you stare up at him in shock: “wh-why?” you whimper, his pulsing length half out of you, teasing you.

Joel’s eyes meet your own and he sternly swats your tits, eyes watching as the breast exposed to the air moves in recoil.

“do you want to cum?” he asks, as if he’s asking what 2 + 2 is. your face fucking burns as you nod, “yes-“

but he grunts, hips too agonizingly still as he leans forward, “then take my cock, fuck yourself on it. and use your fuckin’ manners.”

you blink at him, spurring into action only after a very brief short-circuited moment. your hips stutter and shake at the angle, unable to move in a way that stimulates yourself enough to bring you back to the edge.

you shutter, muttering, “th-thank- thank you,” but you can’t do it. you glare at him as you move your hips, hands shaking, muscles straining, but you can tell he’s not pleased: brows drawn, a swat to your exposed breast that stings and spurs your hips quicker.

“come on, this is pathetic.” he snarls, fingers gently pinching your clit. the yelp you let out is dry, starved. “why so quiet now, darlin’?” he throws your own words back at you deliciously.

he stands stationary, eyes judging you, focused on where your cunt tries to swallow his cock, your movements choppy and weak. tears spring in your eyes; he feels so good, but you just can’t get it right.

“please.” you nearly whisper it, but it’s exactly what he was looking for. he rocks his hips shallowly, your body rocking gently with the slow, deep force of him splitting you open.

“please, what?” he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. resentment and arousal flows through your veins as you let out a strangles, “please, s-sir-“

with the words, Joel’s hips cant up into you, the slight angle making your legs coil and your throat burn.

“please fuck me, y’feel- I can’t do it, need- you feel so good, fuck me hard, please, I want it.” you let go, begging and desperate to give you what you crave.

his hips pick up a brutal pace. your back is pounded into the wood below you, the cool blade of the knife cold against your flannel as one of his large hands moves you until your legs are thrown up, over his shoulders.

the stretch is unimaginable and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust; his hips are unforgiving, fucking you open and letting your juices of arousal spill over the skin of your thighs and onto the table.

“such a foul fuckin’ mouth on you.” he spits, one hand gripping your jaw until it opens for him, your mind clouded with the chase of your highs.

he spits into your mouth, saliva warm and intoxicating as you swallow it happily, nodding in a daze. “gonna fuck you stupid, aren’t I? you won’t think about anything but me for weeks.”

he’s right, and he fucking knows it.

you nod at him, unable to form full words as he hits the spongy, delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out. your hands fucking ache from the grip on the table, but you hope he’s pleased that they haven’t moved a damn inch this whole time; even as he splits you wide open and takes you apart.

you’re so close you might actually start to sob as the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking.

he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier.

“whose pussy is this?” Joel grunts, his movements soon desperate and deep; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up the table with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.

the pain is fucking euphoric, delicious as you grip the edge of the table so hard you’re unsure they’ll ever relax. his finger pinches your nipple and you yelp, sweat sticking to your forehead, “-y-yours, fuck, Joel- yours, a-always.” you whimper, breathless.

you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest seem out of place with the bruises that will soon blossom on your skin from his teeth, his fingers.

you smile, too.

"god, you're perfect- f-feel fuckin' perfect around me, baby. need you to cum." as his sentence ends, his head jerks up, one hand rising to grip your jaw tight. your eyes snap to his and the anger boils, festering with the desire and lust within his eyes, "know y'can't help it, can you?"

you shake your head fiercely as your orgasm nears. he hums deep, a rumble from his chest, “what do you say if you want me to let you cum?”

fuck. fuckfuckfuck you’re too close- your muddled mind spits a barely cohesive babble of pleads, “please, p-pleaseplease I-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” he presses, hips not giving up; your whole body burns as you wait for your orgasm, knowing in any second it’ll be ruined. “look at those pretty eyes. did y’learn your manners? y’gonna say thank you?”

you let out a sob of pleasure, his thrusts so deep you can feel them in your throat. “yes, Joel- please- let me cum, please-“

his hand slides to your throat. “cum now.”

you swallow around his grip and let out a near scream of his name as his other hand snakes between you; a finger brushes against your abused clit, the combined stimulation pushing you over the edge.

you see colors.

your orgasm explodes as you gush around him, pulsing, begging, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name followed by thank you, thank you drifting through the room.

your thighs are soaked with your own spend and he feels you grip him like a vice; he can't help but kiss the tears from your cheeks as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear.

"that's it, baby. there y'go, cum on my dick when i fuckin' tell you to." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl."

you scream at his words and the overstimulation. he shushes you, thrusts slow. "'m gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you.

he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. he moves back, frantic to pull out and ride his high- but you panic.

"w-wait!" you rush, hands springing without thinking to push his hips hard against yours. you can't bear to imagine him pulling out of you so soon - you need to feel him, be full of him. "cum in me, Joel- I need it, j-just- fuck!"

his hand slams over your mouth, effectively silencing you with a loud grunt of his own, "shut the fuck up," he growls, sounding too close. “jesus, girl- gonna wake up the whole n-neighborhood-“ but even his shamefully dirty mouth falters when he chases his orgasm.

soon he thrusts shallowly into your pulsing cunt before he's moaning, spurting his seed into you.

hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as you flutter, whimpering as you breathe heavy, hands skittering up his back despite his earlier orders.

his lips brush over your skin as he lies on you, heavy; "jesus christ." is all he mutters, pulling out of you with a slick sound and tucking himself into his jeans.

you can only stare at the ceiling, the light above the table you’re laid upon swinging with the residual force of your bodies colliding.

a hand falls in a sharp thud to your right, pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the notch it leaves reveals the patrol log; speared in the middle with the evidence of you and Joel's digressions.

oops.

you're wrecked. you're a trembling frame of a structure after the hurricane of Joel Miller took threw you, stripping you to your bare bones. a ghost of lips over the inside skin of your knees as they fall, weak, off of his shoulders. and then he stares at you as you shakily sit up, setting your clothes right, swallowing on a raw throat.

“‘m sorry about the flannel.” he gestures to the rip in your arm where the knife had pinned you down and something about it makes you chuckle, smoothing down your hair. “are you- are you okay?” he asks suddenly, hard eyes looking almost soft under the glow of the lamplight.

he hands you your underwear and jeans and helps you slide back into them in a surprisingly sweet turn of events.

“more than okay, christ. if you make me cum like that again you can do anything you want to my clothes.” you wink with a deep breath, smiling gently at him when he helps you stand back up on shaky legs. he actually sends you a half-smirk at that, and it flutters along your chest.

the nighttime air is not so suffocating as you and Joel make your way towards Maria, his hand grazing over the small of your back as you walk on Jell-o legs, faces flushed and sweat slicking to your skin.

it’s awkward.

“I-” he starts, swallowing air as you stare up at him. sweat trickles from his brow and you itch to trace it with your tongue.

“I actually think you’re not too bad,” he finishes, turning to walk up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s. you blink, heat fluttering in your chest as he admits, but soon whirls around to ensure you hear him, “for Ellie. just- don’t do that shit around her, right?” he clarifies.

you grin at his reddened cheeks as he tucks the log into the box set near the door, filing it under the western outpost for the date.

“yes, Mr. Miller.” you mock-salute him, smirking to yourself as his flush deepens, the scowl ever-present on his face softening slightly at your smile.

“christ.” he shakes his head, “you’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” you don’t miss the smile that creeps on his face as he starts to walk you back home.

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#joel miller smut #Joel Miller #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel smut #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou spoilers #the last of us (hbo)#the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us (tv)

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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I hope I can express this properly and sensitively, but I think oftentimes people need to have Categories and Identities and to be healthily exploratory and playful and elastic about them, else they can get vulnerable to some negative things, sometimes really awful things

I wish I could remember where I read it, but there was something that wrote about whiteness in America as an abyss.

Whiteness is something that sheltered white Americans' ancestors, and at the same time devoured them. They used to have a distinct medley of heritages: Irish, German, Scottish, Italian. "Whiteness" ate it up, the languages, the cultures. There were privileges if you destroyed it, and punishments if you held onto anything that was "Other." In a white supremacist society, white people wanted to be "white" first before any other possible identity or connection they could have.

Yay! You're white. You're on top. You win...what? Turns out the prize for "winning" is just that you get to perpetrate the violence of the game instead of being on the receiving end of it.

And that's the nasty twist—there is no prize. The deeply embedded vice of "Southern pride" is not just what the Confederate flag stands for, but also why they've got to cling so hard to that symbol of traitors and losers: they need to be on top of something so bad that even a pile of shit will do. My ancestors were ultimately dirt poor, loads of them ending up in prison or breaking their bodies down doing hard labor, but they were white. Their reward, and their pride, was being stepped on by the violence of poverty only, instead of also by the violence of white supremacy.

"White pride" is all about hate because white supremacy didn't give these folks anything to be proud of. It stripped away the culture and heritage their ancestors had in favor of "whiteness." All those jokes about how white people have no culture, well, it's true isn't it? This shit is how we ended up a primarily monolingual nation. And what looks like happened is that white Americans wound up just...scavenging most of their culture from those they oppressed. Food, music, all of that stuff. Our white ancestors didn't GIVE us anything that was their own to start with.

And this is something that really strikes me about the white supremacist and fascist movements nowadays: the starvation and hollowness behind them. These folks are empty inside. They were given nothing by white supremacy except a very vague sense that they deserve something, and they see people of all different cultures celebrating and flourishing in their unique heritages and identities, and they feel like...they've been cheated.

Equality is so threatening when you're in this situation because it feels like you've got less than everyone else at the end of the day. Not just because of comparison to previous privileges, but because your whole identity was "person that gets to step on everybody else" and your whole inheritance was "shit stolen from everybody else" and in a world where all is set right, you have no identity and nothing. You are nothing.

Anyway I was looking just now at a blog that seemed really white-supremacist-leaning and it was 99% about like, Norse and Proto-Indo-European paganism and "traditionalism" and that's what got me thinking about this again.

This person had apparently done DNA tests on themselves or something, and were really fixated on figuring out their Norse and Germanic ancestors and separating out their genetic and racial identity at a level of precision that seems really pointless that far back in time. And honestly all the paganism stuff seemed like totally arbitrary speculation as well.

And how to become satisfied as a person like this? I am just as much Germanic or Norse as they are, but I don't believe that distant ancestors determine who you are to such an extent that I have some sort of innate cultural tie to Vikings or Visigoths or what have you. I know what percentage Celtic or Anglo Saxon or Norse I am—zero. I learned about those things in books the exact same way I learned about all the cultures and past kingdoms of the world that I presumably don't have ancestors from.

I feel like the experience of being a baby ally and obsessing about apologizing for being white is the same kind of thing in another direction, or another outcome of the same process. Some people seem to get really twisted up for a time over how to stop being guilty about being white.

It's part of the same thing as this guy who is trying to genetically identify his ancestors from like 3,000 years ago. It's the emptiness and meaninglessness of "white" identity apart from white supremacy.

I talk about deradicalization sometimes and I've had the notion a few times that fascism appeals to people who are hollow and starving in terms of identity, and if it wasn't for the sense of emptiness and hunger, they would be less easily radicalized. But it's also a little bit awkward to talk about the deeply unsatisfying nature of white supremacy, because...well, that is pretty low on the list of things bad about white supremacy.

I think this concept is worth talking about in general, though: People want to feel like they come from or are part of something meaningful. They are drawn toward Identities and Categories and Belonging to groups. This is something I think is commonly true about humans, I think it is normal and not a bad thing, and I think we could stand to be a little more upfront about its reality.

I think this means that wanting, and seeking, a sense of cultural identity as a white person (particularly an American) needs to have some kind of non-horrible outlet for it. Because right now, it's nothing but a way to get radicalized, and the dominant other option people take (becoming the Guilty White Person) is liked by no one and helps nothing.

And maybe it doesn't need to have anything to do with race or culture or your ancestors or any of these things that can lead a person down such terrible paths. Maybe more of us should be furries!

As just another thing to consider, I'm reading the book Ecology of a Cracker Childhood and the author of the book uses the word "cracker" not like, with the gravity of reclaiming a "slur" or something like that, but seemingly because that is just the word she most strongly identifies with, the word that best articulates who "her people" are. This feels very solid and levelheaded to me, something that comes from someone with a good sense of themselves.

Personally I've thought a long time that more people should reclaim "redneck." Not in the sense of reclaiming a slur exactly, but in the sense of putting it in neutral usage among the folks it always referred to, instead of letting it increasingly be associated with any Southerner (regardless of working class background) that is the sort to wave a Confederate flag around. The very idea of gatekeeping "redneck" away from racists is just absolutely hilarious to me, I won't lie.

#random #identity #whiteness #i doubt anyone asked for an essay from a white southerner about race #but this is just what im thinking about tonight

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pupyuj · 8 months

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7th member and g!p wonyoung where rumors run around a lot that you and wonyoung don't get along well because you really can't look each in the eye and doesn't interact that much but in reality, you can't look at her in the eye because you're too shy after she fucked your brains out last night and you won't interact that much on cam because wony know that she'll just end up getting a boner and might just consider bending you over right there and then 🥰🥰🥰

sndbdjcncdk i love getting g!p wony asks it's my favorite thing 😩😩😩 it's so obvious that i got way too into this i'm sorry i'm an ive girl through and through .

ya'll know i love giving these things a little backstory and some build-up so... it was just supposed to be a cute little hook-up between you and your favorite dorm mate 😳 the two of you have just come home from a party, giggling and whispering flirty things to each other while you stumbled inside your shared dorm... hands touching and groping anywhere and passing it off as a joke but the next thing you knew you were making out on the couch with wony on top 😵‍💫 she was grinding and humping, needing relief for her cock bcs she has stared at you all night and wanted nothing more but to fuck you, not at all giving a damn about the consequences 🫣 needless to say, you absolutely did get fucked very good, too good maybe, on that couch (and in her bed right after)! you fell asleep in peace thinking that everything will be fine the next morning.. but oh, no they weren't 😬

suddenly you couldn't talk to each other like normal friends 😭 only a few words were shared between the two of you since that night, and you only looked at each other when it was absolutely necessary 😭😭 ofc the fans would notice it very quickly bcs all of your habits around each other have changed :( you used to sit very close to each other all the time, but now you're on opposite sides when the group is doing a live or smth 💔 on top of all that, you stopped talking about each other on fancafes, bubble, etc... it was a bit heartbreaking actually, it was like witnessing a friendship breakup in real time 😭😭 no selfies tgt, no random moments of each other on your individual instas, no reports of a 2 am convenience store run... oh, the (y/n) x wonyoung shippers were in the trenches during this time 😩 (annyeongz shooters can relate—)

and then it gets to a point where it was blown out of proportion online 😬 articles being made, think pieces being written about the current state of your friendship... there was a viral clip of you seemingly side-eyeing wonyoung and acting like a bitch behind her back... which your fans fought everybody to hell for bcs they knew you loved her more than anything 🥹🥹

it was yujin who took notice of this.. thing between you guys ofc and cornered the two of you one day, telling you to get your act together and sort your problems out bcs it was affecting the group dynamic too 💔 apparently jiwon was feeling guilty bcs it was now her that you took to those midnight strolls, and rei always felt like she was 'homewrecking' whenever wonyoung was affectionate with her and not you 😭😭😭 coming home after getting scolded by your leader, the two of you sitting on that very same couch where you fucked, awkward and silent...

"i miss you." it was her that broke the silence. that was really all it took for you to jump in her arms and hug her tightly :(( wony was your best friend, the one who knows all your secrets, the one who remembers every single funny moment in your childhood and reminds you of it to cheer you up, the one who always wiped your tears away when you cried — it hurt to not get along with her 💔💔 "we don't have to make that whole thing be such a bad thing... we can just laugh about it, and... and—" wonyoung looks at you, at your soft smile while you cupped her cheeks in your hands, at your lips (she remembers hoe you kissed her that night), at your body and the way you looked like you belong right on her lap... "and we can just do it again.. and again... over and over..." she says boldly. well that certainly caught you off guard, but who were you to say no?

the two of you were really just supposed to talk, but now wony has you bent over the couch, her hips slapping against your ass while her dick slammed deeper and deeper by the second inside you... your cunt fit perfectly around her cock, it was an almost hypnotizing feeling fucking you 😵‍💫 wony thrusting faster, getting bursts of energy every time you moaned her name... then she's right up in your ear, "w-we... we won't need to leave the dorm when we're bored anymore... we can just fuck.. all the time... does that sound appealing enough, baby?" she was asking.

you nodded, "yes, y-yes, wonyoung... ahh.. mhmm..! i'll always be ready for you... just say the word.. or better yet, just f-fucking... shitshit... just grab me and fuck me... i love your cock.. i love it..." you were convinced that there wasn't a better feeling in the world that getting fucked by your gorgeous best friend, and there really wasn't!

shdbfjfksf wony turning you around so she could look at your face while she pounded into you :((( you were so pretty to her, she will never regret fucking you that night 🤤🤤 deliberately clenching around her cock, smiling at the way it only made her pound you faster — you can't get enough of each other 😵‍💫 kissing as you both came, feeling absolutely at bliss while her cum filled up your cunt... she definitely breeded you all night, she had to make up for lost time! 😉 filled you up on her bed, the showers, on her bed again after showering, even when you slept she was fucking into you... just dumping all of her seed in you bcs she missed you so muchhh :((( and yeah you get your revenge bcs when wony woke up the next morning and she looked down, you winked at her with her cock deep down your throat... and then you rode her until she was a drooling, babbling mess...

sorry did i mention that you guys are just fucking insane? right after that, you were cockwarming her while the two of you had breakfast, then wony was feeling you up impatiently while you washed the dishes, then you were fucking on the couch again while the morning news was on... and you ended up getting ten missed calls from yujin that entire morning bcs wony got very, very busy spilling every drop of her cum inside your pussy AND YET....... it was never enough 🥵🥵🥵

did you ever get off her cock that whole day? probably not... but hey, it did wonders for your friendship!

fans now see that the two of you were closer than ever! back to being jokey around each other, wony now always had an arm wrapped around your waist and you were always combing her hair with your fingers bcs you knew it eased her, and ofc you grew more affectionate towards each other! maybe a bit too much.. but it was wayyy better than when you pretended like the other didn't exist 🤭🤭

see, what they all don't know is after that very fun and loud live at the practice room, wony fucked you to hell in one of those secluded rooms in the company building, making you see the stars while you came all over her cock 😵‍💫 yeah that hook-up was a blessing alright...

#ive x fem reader #ive smut #ive imagines #ive x reader #jang wonyoung imagines #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #wonyoung smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group smut

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backtothefanfiction · 1 month

Text

Drunk Tennis

Summary: drunk shinanigans result in Felix living up to his nickname

Warnings: drinking, hurt/comfort

“Okay! My turn!” You called out to the group as you kicked off your heels and made your way over to the net where they had all gathered to pass round a fresh bottle of bubbly between them.

“Yes!!!” Venetia cried, “Now we can do boys versus girls!”

“Yeah but then it’ll be three against two, that’s hardly fair.” Felix interjected.

“It’s fine.” Farliegh piped up, “I much prefer being umpire anyway.” He said taking one of the mostly full champagne bottles, lifting it to his mouth to take a swig, only to quickly hold it at arms length as it frothed and he almost choked on it.

You felt Venetia smash into your side as you all chuckled.

“Come on you lot! Rackets up!” Farleigh called as he climbed up onto the umpires seat at the side of the court.

Felix smiled at you, holding out the bottle in his hand for you to take a drink before the game began.

“Watch that smirk Catton.” You said with a sly smile as you lowered the bottle from your lips again to hold it back out to him.

He scoffed, dipping his gaze to the floor with a shake of his head, “Yes because those tennis lessons I paid for you to take last summer were so successful.”

You shoved the bottle back into his chest and both he and Ollie laughed as you pouted.

“Oh it’s on brother.” Venetia rallied beside you, holding out her tennis racket in front of her like a sword with which to challenge him with.

“Very well.” Felix mused, flashing his cocky smirk and you and your sister again as you all slowly began to step backwards into position to start.

“Right, everybody! I want a clean match!” Farliegh said between dramatic swigs of his own bottle.

“Wait, who’s got the ball?” Venetia shrieked.

Felix gave a quick cheeky wave of luminous green between his fingers before he began to toss it in the air, forcing everyone to snap to attention.

He hit a perfect serve towards his sister who jumped to the left with a shriek as the powerful serve almost hit her in the arm.

“Hey!” She shrieked again, “I wasn’t ready.”

“Farleigh?” Felix turned towards the umpire for his decision.

“Huh?” He said lowering the bottle from his lips again, “It stays in.” He quickly decided instead of letting on he wasn’t fully paying attention.

“What!??” Both you and Venetia cried as Oliver and Felix cheered and high fived each other and took another drink.

“Fine.” You huffed, hoisting up your skirt and marching towards the ball that had rolled to the edge of the court, nestled into the surrounding fence.

They were still laughing, joking and drinking when you got back into position and took your own rapid serve, hoping to catch them equally off guard. Apparently you had no such luck as Felix sent the ball straight back. It hit the ground right in front of your feet and you stumbled back as you avoided it hitting you in the face. As you stumbled back, your feet got caught on one another and you fell hard on your bum and when you relaxed into the embarrassing moment, letting your whole body just flop on the floor, your head hit the ground a little more harder than you’d intended. Everyone hissed and cringed as you allowed yourself to play victim to the floor.

“You alright?” Felix said, rushing to your side.

You lifted your hands to cover your eyes, worried you’d cry and not wanting them to see or accuse you of being silly. It was just a silly tumble after all. But it was the shock and bruise to your pride that had you feeling teary.

You grunted as you felt Felix’s arm move carefully around your back to try and lift you up into a sitting position and you reluctantly let him. When his hands reached for your hands to pull them away from your face, you let him do that too.

He raised his hand, “How many fingers am I holding up.”

You scowled, it had been a little tumble and bump to the head, was he really going to check you for concussion. “Are you serious?!” You snapped, even more embarrassed as the others gathered around the two of you, the game and their drinking firmly on hold until they knew you were okay.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Felix said, waving his fingers in your face again.

“Fix.” You tried to argue.

“Just answer the question.”

“Three. Fucking Jesus. Three.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Farliegh joked. Felix just shot him a glare.

“Maybe we should call it a break for the evening?” Felix suggested.

“What and let you guys win before we’ve even had a chance?” You said, pushing Felix away, feeling for your racket on the floor and getting to your feet. “Nice try fix. But it’s gonna take more than just a bump on my ass to stop me from beating you boys.”

“Yeah!” Venetia agreed, stepping to you and offering you a high five.

“Fine, on your head be it.” Felix said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

#summers at saltburn #saltburn imagines #saltburn x reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton fluff #felix catton x reader #felix catton

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judesluvvvv · 6 months

Text

this is what it feels like

fc: gracie abrams

paring: judebellingham & singer!femreader

summary: a certain footballer and a certain singer who would’ve thought?

author’s note: tbh I was bored not sure if I’ll ever do this again but we’ll see ((:!!

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, oliviarodrigo and others

yourusername forever a barca girl but ig madrid wasn’t so bad!! (thank you for the most amazing concert i love u all sm)

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username THANK YOU FOR COMING BEST CONCERT EVER WTF

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↳ yourusername a girl never tells🫣🫣 (soon I promise)

username does she and jude know each other orrrr🤨

↳ username that’s what I was thinking

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masonmount get me tickets to your next show

↳ yourusername next time ask nicely and I’ll consider it

yourbestfriend I MISS YOUR GIRL COME BACK FROM TOUR😔😔

↳ yourusername stop I miss u too but I’ll be back soon

yourusername

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yourusername and that’s it for tour for now thank you guys for everything I had the best time ever I love u I love u I love u and I’ll se u soon 🫶

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username gonna miss tourrrr thank u for everything we love uuuu

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↳ yourusername I won’t I promise!!!!

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↳ username apparently someone saw him at her show tonight aswell

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trentarnold66 thank u for the tickets your sooooo goooood

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judebellingham

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judebellingham bis bald, #EURO2024 🦁

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england 🔥🔥💯💯

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declanrice levels

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ynupdates yn spotted with jude today!!!

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yourusername hey there pretty pepole i have a little something for you called feels like coming out on November 8th enjoy

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yourusername

liked by judebellingham, sadiesink and others

FEELS LIKE OUT NOW EVERYWHERE!!! A special thank you to my muse and my lover jude bellingham for inspiring this song

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#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #england nt #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid #england national team

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ridhearts · 2 years

Text

it's in the little things {heartslabyul + savanaclaw}

OK SO. this started off as a "antithetical things they'd do when they're into you" but it turned into just. things that they do when interested. Some of them go along with the first inspo and are like "oh no they have feelings their world is upside down now" and others are just. cute. So just consider this me throwing offerings into the void so maybe the inspirations/motivation monster will come back to my brain <3

Heartslabyul

Riddle - in the way he fixes you up gently

Late! You were late!

Grim bounded ahead of you, eager to get a quick breakfast before the line closed until lunch. You were simply trying to keep an eye on him, already having resigned yourself to the few crushed granola bars in the bottom of your backpack. Barely catching the glass door as it shut behind Grim, you hurried down the halls and tried not to let your feet slide out from underneath you. Your effort was for naught when you nearly collided with a body the moment you turned the corner into the cafeteria. Riddle let out a surprised ack!, fighting to balance something held in his arms. You staggered back as well, apologies already falling from your lips.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Riddle!” You said breathlessly. “I know, I know, running isn’t allowed in the halls, but…we had a late start.”

Riddle gave you a quick once-over, expression flat but at least not angry. He sighed, handing you the container in his hands with a quiet, “These are for you.”

“Oh-?” You were able to open the container and spy a few homemade muffins before Riddle gently pressed against your chin.

“Chin up. I’ve told you before that you should maintain a neat appearance,” He murmured to himself. His chiding words were gentle, as were his hands as they freely adjusted the buttons on your blazer, straightening out the fabric where he could and fixing the way the collar of your shirt fell over the jacket. With deft, practiced fingers, he tied the ribbon around your neck too, stopping just before it constricted your throat. You swallowed when he leaned back half an inch to inspect his work, anticipating the way his face almost immediately darkened and he rushed to pull his hands away.

“Thanks, Riddle,” You said before he could stammer himself into embarrassment. He pulled nervously at his own shirt collar once.

“You should make sure to wake up on time…” He scolded weakly, voice trailing off before he cleared his throat. “I mean, ahem, the Queen forbids eating in class, so…you should finish those before it’s time to leave!”

He turned and left before you could respond, walking stiffly like a toy soldier. With a fond sigh, you looked at the box of Trey’s treats in your hands. At least Grim would be interested in this part of your story.

Trey - in the way he plainly lays out his intentions for you

Everybody depended on Trey, that much was obvious. The members of his dorm even called him mom on multiple occasions, only half-joking despite the grimace he tried to hide. It’s not like they were being entirely unreasonable, either - Trey was one of the most dependable guys at school. Yet who was there for him to lean on?

You, apparently.

You didn’t mind, of course. Through years of being the dependable one, Trey knew how to confide in you without it feeling like too much. Still, you noticed how he relaxed more and more, until he was no longer filtering his frustrations to you. Perhaps there wasn’t a genuinely mean bone in his body - just a bunch of tired ones, ones that yearned to rest in the solace you were happy to provide.

There was a funny domesticity to the whole thing that made your stomach twist in knots the longer you thought about it. Behind you, Trey was helping Grim through the last problem on his alchemy homework, the job you assigned to him to keep him away while you cleaned the last of your dishes. Perfectly in tune, Grim scampered away to put his paper with yours just as you pulled the plug in the sink and dried your hands. A moment later, you appeared behind Trey and let him lean into you, wrapping your arms loosely around the top of his chest.

“Thank you for helping him,” You murmured. “That’s one less thing I have to do.”

“It’s nothing,” He answered, and meant it. You were one of very few people he truly didn’t mind helping out no matter how many times you asked. “Besides, now that means I get you to myself.”

There it was again - something said so flippantly that made your heart do somersaults in your chest. Not quite knowing how far you could go, you leaned your head forward and placed the lightest of kisses to the top of his head.

“Do you really not know that I’ve been all yours since the start?” You ventured, keeping your face hidden behind his head even if he wouldn’t have been able to see you if you hadn’t. “It’s alright. I don’t mind reminding you.”

You weren’t sure how you’d get him to believe you for real, but he reached up and squeezed your forearm, and you knew you’d manage it somehow for a shot at this being real.

Cater - in the steadfast attention he gives you

Riddle looked about ready to blow a gasket, face red and sharp glare on Cater. Or rather, on Cater’s hand as he scrolled mindlessly through magicam.

“Cater,” Riddle said through gritted teeth, “Do I need to remind you of the rules to start an Unbirthday party? Put your phone away. Please.”

“Are we even going to start before the Prefect gets here?” He asked, unamused. Ace peered over Cater’s shoulder and made a face when he saw that he was looking through your magicam account. Not only was his crush making him moody, it was apparently making him a lovelorn sap, too.

Before Riddle could respond, you barreled through the entrance to the garden, out of breath and holding Grim by the scruff of his neck. He wriggled and shouted, effectively drawing everyone’s attention from the punishment that was about to happen before their eyes.

“SO sorry I’m late! Grim started a fire just before we-” You looked around you and saw a handful of tense first years along with a very angry Riddle. “Oh, is this because of me? I’m really, really sorry, I was going to tell you but I thought I could make it.”

“IT IS NOT - ah,” Riddle started loudly before catching himself and taking a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, Prefect. Cater here-”

“Saved you a seat!!” Cater interrupted, pulling out the chair next to him and eagerly patting the cushion. You gave Riddle a small smile before sitting, finally releasing Grim from your hold. A gray blur darted around the garden before ultimately ending up on your lap while you chuckled at something Cater said. His phone was nowhere to be seen.

Deuce - in how eager he is to please you

Deuce was determined to approach his new school life openly, honestly, and with more effort than anybody else in the student population. Becoming an honor student was an entirely new experience for him, so he figured it’d be best not to complicate matters with unnecessary mind games. For similar reasons, he took the same approach to how to deal with you, his very first ‘oh-my-goodness-the-prefect-is-totally-out-of-my-league-but-i-think-they’re-WAY-cooler-than-everyone-else-and-i-can’t-just-lie-to-them-so-i’ll-win-them-over-with-the-hidden-charm-my-mom-said-i-have-when-i-lamented-to-her-in-my-last-letter’ crush.

It didn’t help that on top of being insanely clever and tough and attractive, you were also totally smart. You didn’t even have magic and yet, if it weren’t for Grim’s scores bringing down your average, you’d easily be at the top of the first year class on every test. He HAD to take you up on your offer to study; he’d get to spend more time with you AND he’d get the best tutor in the grade to make his honor student dreams come true!

An unexpected outcome to this, though, was the immense pressure Deuce felt to impress you. What if he failed a test? You would be disappointed in him, right? Would you feel like it was your fault? Would you hate him forever and never study with him again??? The thought kept him up later than his worries about the test did, though Deuce would never admit it. (Ace might, if he ever got the admission out of him.)

His worries were for nothing, though, as he walked out of the room with a solid 86 earned entirely on his own. Deuce’s first instinct was to run down the hallway hollering in excitement, but he kept that inside in favor of waiting for you.

“So, how’d you do?” You asked as soon as you saw Deuce standing against the wall. You could see Deuce consider tricking you and saying he failed, but the excited bounce in his mannerisms gave him away. Instead he showed you his test, cheering with you when you loudly congratulated him. “I knew you could do it! All that studying really paid off!”

Ace, who had followed you out of the classroom and went entirely unnoticed, huffed and waved the both of you off. “Alright, lovebirds, just meet me at lunch,” He grumbled, gesturing for Grim to follow him. Deuce let him leave, instead relishing in your praise while he had it. Not for the first time, he considered himself lucky to be able to hold your attention for so long.

Ace - in how deeply he allows himself to feel for you

Ace wasn’t shallow, but he wasn’t exactly the deepest sea, either. He could understand many of the deep, complicated feelings his classmates often lamented, but he preferred to coast on the surface, floating cheerfully in his little bird-shaped floatie with a drink in hand. That is to say, Ace was usually much happier just accepting things as they were. If somebody didn’t like him, fine. If something was fun, do it again until somebody came around to ruin it. Then, move on to the next thing. Life didn’t have to be that deep - or, at least, his life didn’t need to be. It didn’t seem too fun down there anyway.

But then you reached up and pulled him down by the ankle, forcing him to sink to emotional depths he never bothered with before.

It wasn’t dark or scary like he was expecting. Actually, he was having fun with what he was experiencing. The way his heart pounded out of nowhere was close to an adrenaline rush, and the warmth that spread through his body wasn’t the worst thing. But he was definitely sinking, a pressure building on his lungs that was getting harder and harder to ignore. Would he acclimate? Would they burst? Ace didn’t know, and he found when he opened his mouth to ask he was only met with bubbles.

There wasn’t much of a difference between the way he acted before and after you turned his life upside down. Nobody really paid close enough attention to notice the way he held on to your hand a little longer while leading you around campus, or how his laughter faded out a little quicker in favor of watching you. When he allowed his thoughts to drift and he remembered there might come a day you have to leave forever - a day that could be just around the corner, for all anybody knew - a dark feeling settled in his gut that stubbornly stuck to his insides. There were little things he began to notice, little moments he began to collect, and they made him sink faster like pebbles in his pockets.But..being down beneath the surface really wasn’t the worst thing. Not if you were the one pulling him down.

Savanaclaw

Leona - in the ways he can’t quite play it cool

There were a lot of subtleties within Leona that you didn’t yet understand. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. You were simply still learning, and Leona proved to be just as difficult as you expected. He was guarded, everything he gave you was purposely an inch short of what you wanted, and what you were beginning to understand about him was telling you that he would never, ever give you a straight answer for any of your questions.

You only knew Leona for a few months, though. Ruggie has known him longer.

It wasn’t entirely your fault that you seemed to be grasping for hints in every direction. You weren’t even familiar with beastman mannerisms, so how could you be expected to dig even deeper than that? Ruggie, on the other hand, lived with lions for a while, and one in particular has been the main receiver of his attention for a while. Even without his knack for reading people, Ruggie would be an absolute fool not to notice how utterly hopeless Leona was when it came to you.

Leona’s ears were always perked up, one part of him alert even when the rest of him was dead asleep. Catching Leona unguarded was almost impossible, as his ears were always listening. Ruggie thought Leona was merely protecting what was his, making sure that when he helped himself to some of the prince’s items he wasn’t taking something Leona particularly treasured. What Ruggie was beginning to realize, though, was that they were listening for you.

Ruggie asked Leona about once, in a round-about way that they both knew was intended to preserve both their prides. Leona claimed he was merely bracing himself for the annoyances that trailed behind you at every turn, yet the way his ears lowered slightly, relaxed when you greeted him, gave him away.

More obvious than his ears was his tail.

Leona was not a touchy person. In fact, he preferred to be left alone entirely, whenever possible. The only person who could get away with even being close enough to touch him was Ruggie, and that was only when the only option to get Leona off the mattress in the morning was to push him off of it. You were the exception, as Ruggie was learning. You normally had his tail wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, and half the time you didn’t even know it.

Ruggie watched with curiosity as you sat between him and Leona at lunch. That was another thing you could do - force Leona into rooms he normally wouldn’t bother with just with the promise of your premise - and a few seconds later, you had a tail wrapped around your back and resting on your lap like some sort of seat belt. Ruggie gave a breath of a laugh, looking away so Leona couldn’t prove exactly what amused him so much. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Leona was so obsessed with keeping you close, so interested in making sure you couldn’t be taken away. You just hadn’t yet learned where to look.

Ruggie - in the things he shares

Ruggie didn’t have a lot.

There were lots of good things about him - he was hard-working, straightforward, more clever than he gave himself credit for (even on days where he gave himself plenty of credit). As long as you were not the target of his jokes, he was funnier than most of the people around him. The more you thought about Ruggie, the more you could decide was wholly good about him.

But, materialistically - so, in the way that mattered - Ruggie didn’t have a lot.

He neither hid nor flaunted that fact. It was just something everybody knew, to the point where every move he made was reasoned away with “he never had a lot.” Ruggie’s hunting in the kitchen for food about to go bad? He’s resourceful like that, because he needed to be. Ruggie’s running to and fro on errands others should be doing? Probably collecting IOUs for the next time he finds he needs something. Truth be told, the assumption got kind of annoying at some point - while he can play very easily with others underestimating him, it did settle uneasily that people associated him with lacking something. It was like someone rubbed his fur the wrong way; not the end of the world, but definitely not ideal.

Ruggie spotted you sitting against a tree one day and instantly sighed in relief at his search being over. He had a lull in jobs, a time slot saved just for you - but he walked like he was on a mission, just so that people would leave him alone. Efficiency, and all that. As he approached, you smiled at him before turning your attention back to a textbook open on your lap. With little grace, he dropped a few plastic-wrapped food items in your lap and stood in front of you, his shadow stretching past you and up the trunk of the tree.

Your writing stopped and you blinked at the food a few times. When you looked up at him, the grin on your face was wider than it had any reason to be. Ruggie briefly wondered which would weigh heavier on his mind: the idea that you wondered why he gave this offering to you because it might be all he had, or the idea that he just wanted to make sure you, specifically you, were taken care of.

You looked hungry, was all, and Ruggie knew how to fix that. But you didn’t need to worry yourself with the details.

Jack - in the ways he shys away from you

“You won’t be able to carry all of that,” Jack said bluntly. You peeked at him from the side of the stack of boxes, blinking as if processing his audacity.

Professor Crewel sent you to the botanical garden to fetch a few boxes for the next class’ lab. It seemed a simple job at first, until you realized the boxes were full of heavy bags of fertilizer. Still, you put on a brave face and tried to heft the boxes up yourself, only able to make it a few steps at a time before needing to take a rest. Jack, who had been in the garden checking on a plant for a project, had half a mind to leave you alone to struggle. But the idea didn’t sit right in his stomach, turning in a way that was worse than just disagreeing with his personal honor code, so he decided to offer his help.

In a…roundabout, unintentionally-so-yet-still-semi-insulting way.

Your arms gave out and the boxes fell to the ground with a thud that drowned out your sigh. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Do you think you could give me a hand?”

Of course he could. You knew he could. You did know he could, right? Jack lifted the boxes with ease and shook his head in disbelief, turning to the exit. “Lead the way, prefect.”

“Wow!” It took you a moment to marvel at his display of strength, your eyes practically burning the path your gaze took down his arms. After a moment, you scurried to match his pace. “Sorry, I’m just…always so amazed at how strong you are! It’s really impressive.”

You didn’t give him any time to embarrass himself with the visible shock that dawned on his face. With a soft exclamation, you ran to hold the door open for him, allowing Jack to collect himself for a moment. The only problem was his tail, wagging a mile a minute and showing no signs of stopping before he walked in front of you.

Just before he crossed the threshold, Jack stopped, pretending to adjust the boxes while willing his tail to at least slow down. It took longer than he’d like, but he eventually got it to a pace where he could pretend his tail was just swaying with the way he walked.

There were a lot of things he wished he could be more honest with you about, but the mere thought of even starting that conversation froze Jack’s blood. The ice in his veins burned more than the shame of taking such a cowardly way around things. He wished his tail would get the memo to stash all his feelings away, but alas, it was always too honest for his own good. Perhaps it was a sign…but for now, it was just a burden, one that you were getting too close to discovering each day.

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eth3real-ess3nce · 2 years

Text

Choose A Pile

How do people really see you? (+Secret admirer thoughts)

☆ Welcome! Please, choose a vintage perfume bottle.

☆ (top left is #1, top right is #2, bottom left is #3 and bottom right is #4)

☆ Note: Please acknowledge that the 80% of the message is how others perceive YOU. That means that it may or may not align with who you actually are as a person. Kindly, only take what resonates. 🤍

Pile 1

People see you as a workaholic. You are someone who carries too much weight on their shoulders. It is like you are used to being so heavily self-reliant and you have let everybody know that your resilience is not to be undermined or messed with. Your secret admirers are totally into your eyes - they find them focused , determined and they wish that this enigmatic stare of yours would lock with theirs. (Secret admirers can be easily found on school or workplace) You exude a simple, low-key yet elegant vibe, but people can subconsciously pick up on the intensity of your inner dynamism and this is the largest part of your charm. Secret admirers wish for a crumble of your attention, but you are too busy growing and reaping your seeds. Appearing to be independent, high maintenance and you like it this way. You hold your head high and you certainly believe that there are barely any people out there who can compete with your stamina. Your authoritative presence demands respect, your words can cut sharp like daggers and it is apparent to others, that, cowardice has no place inside your space.

Pile 2

People mostly see you as the embodiment of the Trickster archetype. You are youthful, mischievous and from time to time - you enjoy a good laugh at someone else's expense. I ought to mention that your physical features are quite stunning to others & your expression and mannerisms are capable of bewitching those around you. It has been witnessed that people could have fought over you, or that you triggered a fight / sparked an intense debate without you taking part in it. Honour your fae energy, since it is not only about mischief but bringing liveliness everywhere you go, too. Secret admirers almost always think of you as someone who is pure and innocent - others find your wits and your controversial way with words irresistible. You seem both book smart & street smart and I sense that you are also naturally knowledgeable when it comes to the mystical, the occult, paranormal subjects. Some of you that chose Pile 2, know that your voice can have enchanting properties. Secret admirers easily notice your voice and more specifically, your laugh, jokes and giggles stay with them forever. You are probably the queen / king of persuasion.

Pile 3

I instantly picked up that this pile is an artistic one. You are probably either an artist or someone who simply prefers to walk this Earth with grace. At least, that is how others perceive you. The nurturing, kind type who always has something to offer to people. Your existence is pleasant for others. Be it your presence in a room, be it your words or advice, be it the way your body moves, your host/hostess skills, the meals you prepare. Something else that stands out is your melancholy or rather the way you express it. There is a gloomy vibe attached to you. People believe you might be stuck to the past, that you are nostalgic and, with a handful of heavy regrets you decide to carry on your back. It is believed that you are not good with decisions and actually, you crave to be taken care of. Patience is a virtue of yours that is widely appreciated. I am hearing that many of you are quick to apologise, even for the smallest of things. You are capable of forgiving, but barely ever for yourself. Secret admirers tend to fall for your smile, your choice of clothing and your sentimentalism. They romanticise the melancholic artist in you as well as your selfless acts. Believe it or not, your kindness and offerings are easily noticed by your surroundings and they do make a difference in the world.

Pile 4

Honestly, this pile has the survivor reputation. I am picking up on harsh lessons learned during childhood or you had to grow up faster than the other kids. Sometimes, you do not fit in and people can often see you in the position of the victim. Sometimes, you might view yourself in the position of the victim to your own detriment and you seek comfort in isolation. From all the piles, the messages presented to me in this one were the hardest to decipher. In fact, it is difficult for anyone to figure you out, but I clearly see here that you have a strong sense of morality, loyalty and you keep your friendships close to your heart. Secret admirers are usually friends and acquaintances. I am certain that you have had close friends fall for you before, whether they have admitted it to themselves or not. I am picking up that some of you are still stuck with your first loves or vice versa. Additionally, secret admirers fall in love with your hair (it is noticeable, darling; the colour? the texture? length? they're well-groomed?), also some of you might be shy, have petite features / be shorter in height and others find it adorable. Lastly, you may or may have not noticed that there are people who gossip, speak negatively about you and misjudge you. Trust me, that usually happens purely because you are enviably true and clean at heart.

#pick a pile #pick a card #pac #pick a card reading #choose a pile

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starsandhughes · 10 months

Note

would love a cute blurb or something of sissy wanting to see trevor first! i feel like she always wants a hughes brother to comfort her

tw: mentally abusive parents

am i projecting a bit? why yes, yes i am.

takes place in high school!

———

you didn’t know why you’re surprised. your parents are narcissistic tormentors that made your life a living hell. they didn’t want you for you. they didn’t want you to try and become a family again. they wanted you to save face.

your dad emailed you. emailed! he emailed you saying that the rest of your so called family is ridiculing them about giving you up so easily.

the worst part? he ended it by saying “i love you.” he doesn’t. you know he doesn’t. neither one of your parents have ever said it. and if they did when you were younger, they never said it when it counted.

you opened the email at 12:37 am and you immediately spiraled. your chest felt tight, you were wracked with sobs, and you wanted to be anywhere but at home. your real home— with the Hughes’s.

apparently your sobs were mixed with screams, because everyone came rushing in. you were pressed up against your headboard with your knees pulled up to your chest. you couldn’t hear what Jack was trying to say to you, but you felt his touch, and you immediately pulled away. Luke grabbed your unlocked phone and eyes widened at what he just read.

“mom! don’t let them take her!” he shouted. he was freaking out now, too. you’d normally step in, you’d normally not let Luke see you like this, but this was too big to feign being alright.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you wanted out of this house at the moment. this family saved you. this family became yours. but right now? right now they were just a reminder of what you didn’t have.

“i— i need—“

“what? what do you need?” Ellen asked you softly.

“Trevor! Trevor, Trevor, Trevor…” you couldn’t seem to say anything but his name.

“it’s late Sissy,” Jack sighed. he didn’t know what to do.

“Trevor, Trevor, Trevor…”

“call him!” Luke pleaded with his older brother.

Jack ran out of the room to call his best friend. he felt bad, they had school the next morning and he was probably asleep. he was surprised that Trevor picked up the phone, but he was more than ready to go pick him up and bring him over.

Jack shouted towards your bedroom that he was getting Trevor, and everyone else remained in there to try and calm you down. it wasn’t working, but at least you weren’t a danger to yourself.

Jack must have been driving at lightning speeds, because he was back in less than fifteen minutes. Trevor ran into the room and quickly got into the bed with you, pulling you into his arms.

“i got her,” he told everybody.

they all left, and you continued to sob into your boyfriend’s chest. you felt awful; Trevor had yet to see you like this. it was bound to happen eventually, but not two months after you started dating.

“just breathe with me, sweet girl. it’ll be okay,” Trevor cooed.

you copied his exaggerated breaths as best as you could until your breathing finally leveled and your tears slowed down. you felt exhausted as you went practically limp against his chest. Trevor held you tighter and kissed the top of your head.

“i’m sorry,” you told him.

“don’t be,” he said. “it’s okay not to be okay, remember? you told me that. can’t be a hypocrite, now can we?”

“i do what i want,” you tried to joke. Trevor huffed out a laugh and kissed your head again, “that you do.”

#penalty box series: blurbs #penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x reader

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

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❣️!more than friends!❣️

Pairing: Charles leclerc X femOC (Cherrie!)

Word count : 7k

Summary : in which they were never just friends. Or moments where their love was obvious to those around them.

The reporter looked between lando and Daniel with a smile as they both knowingly looked back at him, already laughing between each other as they predicted what the topic of discussion was going to be about.

Their was only one thing that everybody was gossiping about and as their friends , the two men couldn't have been more happy to spill everything that they knew about the two of them.

"Can I ask you what your reactions are to the news?" The man asked them grinning , the camera blinking at them steadily.

Daniel hummed dramatically as he leant his elbow against landos head, both of them tapping their chins as they pretended not to know what he was on about .

As though it was possible to go more than a minute around the paddock without hearing their friends names being talked about.

"The news? Could it be the not so new news of how handsome I am?" Daniel mused with a teasing grin , wiggling his eyebrows at the camera .

Lando snorting in laughter beside him. Looking over at him with a grin as he played along.

"I'm sorry to tell you that it is shocking news Danny. I never heard of it before! You're good looks Are news to me!" He joked, ducking to avoid the slap to the back of his head that he knew was coming.

Daniel scoffing playfully at him as he ruffled his hair roughly . "Don't you know that's it's wrong to lie child? Your tongue will go black and fall out if you keep up this lack of honesty!" He exclaimed , grinning widely at him.

The reporter chuckled and shook his head at their usual antics . The two never taking anything he asked seriously.

"I'm afraid it's not about your good looks this time Daniel.." he started to say with a amused smile, Daniel tutting and muttering a faux unhappy 'shame' at him with a grin .

"I'm talking about the news of Cherrie and Charles now officially being together . They walked in hand in hand this morning after months of speculation from the fans. What are your reactions to this?" He asked them curiously .

Daniel couldn't have scoffed any louder if he tried, smirking in amusement as he shook his head at them in humour.

"I am not surprised at all. You could have told me that Charles was a Ferrari driver and I would have probably been more surprised at what I already knew!" He exclaimed , sharing a knowing look with lando.

The both of them having put bets on with the other drivers to when they would finally see the light and get together officially .

It had only been a matter of time before the inevitable happened.

Lando was nodding along in agreement "yeah . I mean, it couldn't have been any more obvious. It was so obvious that they were in love to everyone-"

Daniel quickly finished his sentence "but them! I think that they were the last ones to realise that they belonged together! Apparently love turned them incredibly dumb for a while there." He said truthfully , still amazed by how oblivious their friends had been to what had been so obvious to those around them.

It was no secret to anyone that knew them that Cherrie and Charles were in love. The kind of love that made everyone else feel a little sick with envy of their tight bond.

The way that they always stuck close together and constantly had some type of physical contact when they were together.

Their months of flirting had been almost painful for their friends to watch.

Giving each-other disbelieving looks when they would both argue with them that they were just friends , even managing to say it with a completely straight face while they looked down at them spooning each-other on the couch , arms wrapped tightly around each other like there was nothing going on.

Innocent looks plastered on both of their not so innocent faces.

Lando hummed "for me , I think it was the little things that they do for each other that made it even more obvious. They just seem to be so incredibly comfortable and in sync with eachother." He mused , a little bit jealous of the right bond that the two ferrari drivers shared .

It was unbreakable. That much was obvious.

The both of them beginning to think about all the times that it became increasingly obvious to the rest of their friends that Cherrie and Charles were meant to be.

The first time eyebrows had been raised towards the both of the drivers was in Spain when Cherrie had been doing her pre race interview outside in the hot Spanish sun.

Fanning her Ferrari shirt against her skin as she looked over to the reporter with a small smile , casually talking about how she felt about this race like she always did .

"I'm very excited. I think that I will do well and that as long as everything goes to plan.." she said while laughing a little at the irony of how often their plans went to complete shit thanks to their team. Charles more so than her unfortunately.

But she had hope that they could win, hopefully on a podium together . That was the dream .

"I think it'll be good , yes." It was as though all the English she had learned over the years was slipping away with each minute that she stood there sweating her ass off, chugging on a warm bottle of water and trying not to pass the fuck out.

The man nodded his head "and what about-" bedore he could ask another question , there was a obnoxiously loud shout of her name as they both simultaneously turned around to see her teammate running over to her quickly.

Charles was panting loudly as he held up his phone to her to show her the alarm that was going off on it, Cherrie raising her eyebrow at him in pure confusion.

"qu'est-ce que c'est?" She asked him(what is it?) easily slipping back into her native tongue now that he was there.

The only time that she ever really spoke English was when she had no other choice to, she wasn't as fluent in it as Charles was .

Despite the fact that her team had told her over and over again that she needed to practice some more to be able to understand those around her easier , she didn't really care to. If she was being honest.

She knew the basics and Charles was always there to correct her and help her along when she got stuck, it was no big deal .

None of her closest friends were English anyways , so why did it matter? She knew enough. And that was more than enough for her .

Charles sent her a pointed look , waving his phone at her impatiently like she was supposed to know what he was on about.

She absolutely did not.

"It's your pill time!" He reminded her impatiently , rolling his eyes at her forgetfulness as he then proceeded to casually pull out her contraceptive pills from out of his pocket that she needed to take at exactly eleven in the morning each day.

The both of them Ignoring the shocked looks that they were receiving from the press around them as Charles continued to casually pop her pill out from the plastic and handing it over to her like it was a regular occurrence between them.

Because It was.

Because ever since Charles had found out that she kept missing taking the pill out of sheer laziness and forgetfulness .

He had taken it upon himself to be the one to make sure that she took it each day , especially as he knew just how much of a party animal his best friend was.

He didn't want her to end up pregnant with some random mans baby because she had forgotten to take her pill.

Not if he could help it. In no world would he let that happen.

Cherrie gasped a little , smiling at him thankfully as she took the tiny pill from him and swallowed it down with a swig of her warm water .

"I forgot!" She groaned annoyed at herself for completely forgetting to take it again .

Charles just snickered smugly as he put the rest of the packet back in his pocket , passing her a piece of gum as he did so too.

"As always. What would you do without me?" He teased while nudging her shoulder gently bedore reaching into the back of her denim shorts pocket and pulling out her phone.

Typing in her passcode that was the date that the both of them had been signed a contract to ferrari together at the same time , he opened up her text thread and went to her mothers one.

Cherrie not at all bothered by him taking her phone, completely used to it by now. They shared everything and had absolutely no secrets between them, she just chewed on her gum and kicked at the crocs he was wearing in amusement .

Completely forgetting that they were being filmed.

As usual when the two of them were together, everyone else around them just seemed to disappear . In their own little bubble with one another .

No one else existed as she smiled over at him in amusement , fondness softening her eyes .

"Did you get dressed with your eyes closed this morning Charles?" She teased him, looking at his red Ferrari polo, bright white sports shorts and multicoloured crocs that matched her own.

A polka dot bandana pushed into his messy hair, cheeks tinted pink from the sun.

He looked a little loca!

Charles squinted his eyes up at her for a moment , still texting her mother as he waited for her to reply.

"You don't think I look good?" He joked while striking a pose for her so she could see his unco-ordinated outfit even better .

Having just shoved on the first thing he could find when the alarm for her pill had went off, in a rush to make sure that she took it in time. He hadn't cared what he looked like at the time.

But as he glanced over at Cherrie in her denim shorts and tight shirt, looking as beautiful as ever , he felt a slither of self consciousness hit him.

Knowing that she usually hung around guys that looked like they had walked out of some designer magazine. Tall, Muscular and stylish.

He was the exact opposite of them and the reminder of that didn't sit very nicely with him at all.

Sensing the slight doubt behind his lighthearted words, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and brought him into her side for a hug.

Kissing the side of his head gently as she ruffled his hair. "I think you look very pretty. I like it a lot actually." She told him , patting his bandana in approval.

Charles immediately flushed , letting out a flustered laugh as he gazed back at her. Admiring the way more and more freckles were coming out on her pretty face the longer that she stayed out in the sun.

"Really? I know I look a little crazy-"

Cherrie just shrugged "so? I like crazy! Better than being boring ." She said honestly before looking down at her phone in his hand.

"Why are you texting ma mère?" She questioned him curiously .

Charles grinned at her "I'm asking her for the recipe to those pancakes she made us last time. I was craving them all night . I'm gonna make us some!" He informed her happily , showing her the recipe that her mother had sent through , pleased with himself .

Cherrie gasped excitedly "the Berrie ones? J'aime ceux-là! As-tu de la glace pour aller dessus ?" She asked him hopefully .

(I love those! Have you got ice cream to go on top?)

He deadpanned at her , scoffing. "évidemment! je ne suis pas idiot !" He exclaimed , almost offended by her lack of faith in him.

(Obviously! I’m not an idiot!)

Cherrie just giggled and tilted her head at him cheekily "questionable ." Was all she muttered in reply.

It was then Charles that seemed to remember that he had interrupted her during her press duties , eyes widening slightly as he looked over at the reporter and cameraman who were watching them both in amusement .

"Oh crap! I interrupted you! Cherrie why didn't you say something!" He scolded her , snapping her back into the zone.

Her own face showing surprise as she looked over at them, having genuinely forgot that they were even there. Having got too lost in hers and Charles bubble to realise that they weren't alone again.

"I forgot! je suis désolé!" She said to the reporter with a apologetic smile.

He just shook his head at them with a laugh. This having not been the first time that Charles had interrupted her during an interview and ended up distracting her from what's as going on around her .

He was just glad that she hadn't walked off with him like she had before. The two were so oblivious and in their own little world where only Cherrie and him existed , it was more than amazing for everyone around them to witness.

There was also that time during another press conference with max and lando that they went viral again for how they couldn't stop complimenting each other the whole time while their friends watched on with knowing looks on their faces .

"I just think that Ferrari have a better chance this year . Charles is an amazing driver - one of the best in my opinions. He's very talented and every day he gets better and better-" Cherrie started to ramble, kicking her foot against Charles and grinning over at him sweetly .

Charles was going redder but the second, sinking down into his seat with a flustered giggle . Placing his cheek on his fist as he gazed over at her with hearts in his eyes.

Max and lando sharing a amused look between them as they once again forgotten by the two of them, the camera catching onto every smile a little sigh that escaped the two teammates .

"Ah! Stop it! You're flattering me too much. My head won't fit back through the door!" He laughed , grinning at her in adoration. His chest feeling warm from her constant praise.

She did wonders for his confidence , she really did.

"Non! Non! It's true! I wouldn't be friends with a loser! You're going to win! I'm manifesting it!" She insisted to him , nodding her head over and over again seriously .

Charles laughed loudly at that, finding it more funny knowing that she wasn't joking either .

The amount of crystals and candles that she carried around in her suitcase told him so.

She had shoved so many little rose quartz into his pockets and car that he could start his own collection of the crystals too at this rate.

"You too! We're going to win together! You're absolutely amazing at taking those corners on the track. You're just as amazing. You're one of my favourite drivers . Definitely best!" He gushed back to her.

Leaning down to grab a bottle of lemonade that he had brought with him , uncapping the top of it before handing it to her without saying a word.

She took the lemonade with a thankful hum, taking a large gulp as the reporter who had simply asked them how they felt about their chances of winning this year were, looked between the two of them with wide eyes.

What should have been a simple and quick answer from them had turned into half an hour of them passing compliments back and forth to each-other like it was a competition of who could convince each the other more of their greatness.

"Okay.." he cleared his throat amusedly "I think it's safe to say that you two are enjoying being teammates then? You are very supportive of each other."

That was a understatement .

Lando and max chuckled. Finding it amusing how red they both went . Almost the same shade as their cars.

Swallowing her gulp of lemonade she passed the bottle back over to Charles , smiling over at the reporter and crowd watching them.

"Err- Oui. Yes. Sorry-" she laughed a little as Charles drank what was left of the lemonade , her red lipstick transferred along the top of the plastic and also marking his own lips red as he pulled the bottle away from his mouth once he was done.

"Charles is the best teammate I've ever had. We get along well and it makes working as a team even easier for us.. we have each other's backs out there." She said truthfully .

Charles nodded along , smiling at her. "Yes I agree! I think this is the first time that I've ever felt so confident and assured with my teammate. It's like we can read each others minds and we just - we just understand each other. It's a nice feeling to have someone by your side that you can a hundred percent trust and rely on. She's my best friend." He told them , blushing a little as he looked across the stage and caught max and lando raising their eyebrows at him mischievously.

"Just friends mate?" Max teased, laughing along with the rest of the room.

Lando snickering beside him "I was just waiting for a marriage proposal somewhere in there!" He joked .

Cherrie just rolled her eyes with a grin while Charles sank down even further in his seat, his whole face glowing red in embarrassment. Biting down on his lip with a sheepish smile as he gazed over at Cherrie who wasn't flustered in the slightest.

She just laughed it off. "You're just jealous that me and Charles are bonded for life now! We're going to beat you guys easily!" She promised them cheekily.

The other drivers only got about ten more minutes of answering questions before Charles starting talking about how amazing Cherrie was again.

Even pulling out his phone and proudly showing the crowd videos of her that he had taken of her on the stimulator at his home.

Casually telling them that they both had sleepovers at each others place because it helped them to relax for the next race when they were together .

That he now couldn't sleep unless she was by his side. Then they both looked their friends right in the eye and stubbornly claimed that they were still,

"Just really good friends!"

Then there was the sauna room video that never say the light of day , where they had been given a camera so that they could film what they did in a day for the channel.

Charles had set the camera up on the bench opposite them, a towel wrapped around his hips as he sat down on the bench and looked up at her laughing .

"You need to take your clothes off Cherrie!" He giggled in amusement as he eyed the giraffe onesie that she was wearing.

Having just rolled out of bed after he had dragged her to the sauna with him demanding that she be in the video with him as well , that he just couldn’t do it without her .

She was still half asleep and lacking any filter as she yawned loudly , unzipping her fluffy pyjamas and yanking them down her body carelessly .

"I only just put them back on after you took them off last night.."she muttered with a moody frown. Not at all a morning person.

Kicking off her pyjamas and leaving her standing in front of him in just some red lace panties and nothing else.

Charles went as red as her panties , his gaze snapping over to the camera with wide eyes. Letting out a slightly nervous laugh as he wrapped his arm around the back of her legs and pulled her down so that she was sat between his legs instead.

"This is going on YouTube bébé." He reminded her quietly , giggling naughtily as he cupped her breast in his hands and squished them together like they were play dough.

She just leant her head back against his shoulder and frowned upon at him , unimpressed and still tired.

"c'est stupide. on doit nous filmer toute la journée ? ne sera-t-il pas ennuyeux ?" She groaned not getting why the team wanted them to film like this at all.

What did it have to do with racing?

(This is stupid. We have to film us all day? Won't that be boring?)

Charles just shrugged and grabbed another fluffy white towel, wrapping it around her body so that her tits were covered from the camera . Tucking it in underneath her properly bedore running his fingers through her messy hair to straighten it out for her.

"Are you call us boring people? I'm offended by that assumption!" He joked down to her.

Gently Pulling her head back so that she was looking at him upside down. Laughing at how moody she was when she got woken up so early in the morning by him.

He thought it was adorable .

Cherrie wanted to slap him.

"I was dreaming good..." she sleepily whined as she glared over at the camera filming them as though it was the equipment fault and not her annoying teammates fault for waking her up like this.

Charles grinned cheekily "what were you dreaming about? Me?" He teased her as he pulled the question cards that their team had given them to answer , over to him lazily .

Seeing a way to get back at him , Cherrie smirked slyly and winked at the camera mischievously.

"Non." She sighed still not looking at him, voice soft and dazedly as she continued to say. "It actually involved pierre and me in-"

She couldn't even finish her lie bedore Charles head snapped back down to her , thumping the back of her head with the palm of his hand without hesitation .

"Ow!" She laughed loudly as she rubbed at her head where he had hit and grinned up at him.

Charles scowled at her, unimpressed. "Good job it was a dream then because you and pierre are never being left alone together ever again!" He exclaimed , jealous just at the thought of his friend and the love of his life doing anything together .

Cherrie laughed even harder , pulling on some of his leg hair making him Yelp out in pain.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She grinned at him, threatening to do it again.

Charles trapped her hand in between his and pulled their hands to rest on his thigh instead , tutting at her playfully .

"Don't lie then!" He tugged at her hair scoldingly, making her laugh as they wrestled at each other for a moment, slapping at each other’s pulling and pinching fingers .

Bedore Charles finally gave up and let out a loud giggle as he pushed her off him, his hair sticking up in every direction thanks to their play fighting.

"Okay! Okay! Questions now!"

Cherrie settled back beside him with a sigh "go on then. Give it to me." She snorted when Charles wiggled his eyebrows at her dirtily. Slapping his side with a rolling of her eyes .

“Not what I Meant." She muttered amusedly.

He just smirked and looked down at the cards in his hands .

"Favourite thing about me?" He asked her, looking at her curiously .

She hummed , tilting her head at him.

“In what way?" She asked him confused to what he meant .

He pulled a face back at her , laughing a little. "What do you mean in what way? Like- what do you like about me? What's so confusing?" He snickered .

She just groaned "Charles! Like- " she struggled to find the right words in English.

Before giving up and saying in French "physique ou personnalité sage?"

(Physically or personality wise?"

Charles let out a small 'ah' and clarified "both." He grinned cheekily at her, wanting to hear her say something nice about him.

She side eyed him, suspiciously eyeing the cards that he wasn't letting her see in his hands. Wondering if they actually said that at all.

She went along with it anyways . Liking to see him smile.

"I like your entire face. It's a very nice face. Very Lovely." She grinned at him, poking his dimple hard.

"Ow." He breathed out a laugh, cheeks flushing pink as he leant his head back against the sauna wall, the both of them already sweating a fuck load.

Wiping the sweat from his face as he said "thank you! Is it the spots that do it for you?" He joked as he poked at one of the red spots on his cheek that he had been picking at all night , Cherrie having been telling him to stop all night too.

She slapped his hand away from his cheek with a huff "Charles! It'll get worse . Leave it alone! I've got the little patches to put on them in my bag. It'll be gone by tomorrow. They're like magic!" She promised him .

Knowing that despite him joking about his little acne flare up, he really was self conscious about it. So she leant over and gently kissed the area that he wouldn't leave alone.

"Still very beautiful." She told him fimrly , patting his other cheek bedore pulling away.

Leaving Charles to smile at her like a lovesick idiot, sighing long and hard.

"Okay next question. Do you agree that Charles is the sexiest driver ever?" He smirked at her.

Cherrie gasped and let out a loud cackle "it does not say that! Liar!" She tried to snatch the cards from his hands , Charles lifting them above his head as he batted her away from him while giggling.

"Yes it does! You have to answer it now!" He lied, grinning cheekily at her.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes at him and huffed, side eyeing him with a amused smirk as she shook her head at him.

"No I don't think you are." She said.

Charles frowned at her "what? Who else?! There was only one right answer and that was me!" He exclaimed unhappily at her.

Cherrie just snorted, having too much fun winding him up.

"You never said that! I'm just giving my honest answer . You do not win this one." She told him with a smirk.

There was a pause .

Then "who's the sexiest then?" He wanted to know.

Pouting at her unhappily as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall like a pissy child.

Cherrie laughed even harder . Eyeing him in amusement.

"Sebastian . One hundred percent ." She stated seriously .

Charles tilted his head. The both of them looking at each for a long moment , their eyes talking before Charles said

"Vettel? You think he's more sexy than me?" In a disbelieving tone.

Cherrie shrugged unashamedly "yes. He's like ruggedly handsome. Like that one teacher we all had a crush on in school but you know you shouldn't have. There's just something about him.." she sighed dreamily.

Charles whipped her with the spare towel making her jump and gasp.

Glaring back at him as she rubbed at the spot on her skin where he had hit her with the towel "ow!"

He just shook his head at her , pursing his lips as he side eyed her judgmentally .

"Wrong answer!"

"There is no wrong answer! That's my opinion!"

"Well wrong opinion!" He exclaimed.

She pulled a face at him "non! That's what I think and how I feel! You can't say it's wrong! Seb is sexy!"

Charles gagged "don't say that! I am the sexy one! That was the right answer. You've now torn out my heart and stomped on it! Thank you very much Cherrie! You’ve killed me!” He dramatically exclaimed , before then proceeding to roll off the bench and into a little ball on the sauna floor.

Cherrie looked down at him in amusement, kicking at his butt with her foot as she giggled .

Watching him pretending to play dead, sticking out his tongue and spreading his arms out on the floor .

"I can see you peeking at me bébé !" She laughed as she knelt down beside him for a moment , eyeing him with a grin before throwing herself over his body, tickling him with her fingertips quickly before he could stop her .

He shrieked as he withered below her like a dying worm, trying to knock her hands off his ticklish sides.

"Cherrie!" He screamed while laughing hysterically as they rolled about on the floor.

Both once again forgetting about the camera filming them as both of their towels came off during their wrestling.

"Stop it! I'll pee on you!" He shouted up at her , giggling loudly as he held onto her arms and tried to pull her hands away from his sides.

She just laughed slyly as she straddled his waist, grinning down at him cheekily.

"Didn't know that was something you were into bébé!" She teased him.

He just huffed at her before finally managing to roll her underneath him, pinning her hands above her head and smirking triumphantly down at her.

"You're going to pay for that!" He warned her , smirking as he eyed her bare body below him with dark lustful eyes .

Cherrie just stared back at him daringly "I stand by what I said. Seb is the sexiest driver!" She wound him up some more. Thoroughly enjoying how easy it was to make him turn green with jealously .

Charles pulled down her panties in one quick move, glaring down at her , unimpressed.

"You're gonna wish you never said that by the time I'm finish with you honey!"

Later that night Charles called up their manager and sheepishly explained why he couldn't hand over any footage of their day together .

"The er- I can't . I was naked in it." He blurted out, blushing darkly .

Side eyeing Cherrie who was giggling at his mortification , laid out on his bed and taking photos of him as she sipped on a bottle of wine like it was water .

"Okay?" She sounded confused "we can blur it out? Is it just a few seconds of the footage where you have no clothes on?" She then asked him.

There was a long , uncomfortable pause where Charles cupped a hand over his face in embarrassment. Eyeing the love of his life who was rolling around on the bed while cackling like a witch.

Before he sighed in defeat.

Mumbling , his voice barely audible . "All of it."

"Sorry? Can you repeat that? I can't hear you.." their manager said, confused.

Cherrie had tears streaming down her face in silent laughter, unable to breathe as he put the phone down on the bed, her voice on loudspeaker for them both to hear.

"All of it. I-i-" he couldn't even finish his senstance , too mortified .

There was Another long pause and then "why were you naked for the whole video Charles? I thought you were filming with Cherrie today..." she said , utterly oblivious to what was going on.

As far as she and everyone else knew, the teammates were "just friends!"

Charles wanted to dig a giant hole and jump into it , slapping at cherries bare ass to try and get to her to stop laughing at him .

Glaring down at her for being so unhelpful .

"I can't !" She gasped for breath , laying her head down on his lap and grinning up at him in pure amusement . Unable to stop giggling at the situation they had gotten themselves into.

He wiped away the tears of laughter from underneath her eyes with his fingers gently , swallowing nervously as he answered their manager quietly .

"She was. I mean- I did film with her.." he trailed off nervously not knowing how to explain the fact that he and Cherrie may have accidentally made a sex tape in the sauna instead of a q&a video like they were supposed to.

A long uncomfortable Silence.

And then "and was Cherrie wearing clothes?" There was finally a hint of knowingness in her voice now. Having been waiting for this for a long time.

She was already texting the team and all the other drivers that they owed her big money from their bets as Charles stammered to explain himself.

"No. She was not." He guiltily muttered like a naughty child that had done something he wasn't supposed to.

Cherrie burst into another round of laughter , pulling him down onto the bed with her so that he was laying across her body .

Tucking his face into her neck in embarrassment as they listened to their manager let out a knowing giggle at his expense .

"Oh my god." Charles muttered , completely mortified and knowing that he would never be able to look their manager in her eyes again.

"So no video then.. can I trust you to make another one tomorrow with her? Preferably one with your clothes on?" She said. The grin evident in her voice .

Charles couldn't lie.

"Erm- I think - I think we should wait until somebody else can film us and we're - ya know- not alone with a camera instead because-"

Cherrie finally spoke up , giggling. "Because he can't keep his hands to himself!" She grinned smugly as Charles smacked the palm of his hand over her big mouth, squinting his eyes down at her jokingly .

"Shut up! This is all your fault!" He accused her, grinning despite his own embarrassment. Unable to help it.

She gasped jokingly "how?!"

"You said Sebastian vettel was sexier than me!"

He forgot that their manager was listening for a moment before his eyes squeezed shut as he heard her amused voice echoe from his phone.

"Well she's not wrong.."

Cherrie grinned triumphantly "see! She agrees! Vettel is beautiful!" She exclaimed while hugging him to her chest and sympathetically patting his back to ease the sting of truth.

Charles just sighed , burying his face in her breasts in defeat.

"So does this mean that you two are together now then?" Their manager finally asked them after a few long seconds of silence .

Cherrie let out a laugh and said "we're just friends!"

Charles deadpanning at her bedore pinching her nipple making her gasp and slap at his head in return.

"Friends?! Are you joking?!" The disbelief was clear in her voice .

Charles just let out a loud groan "we're best friends.." he admitted the obvious bedore quickly adding on "who are more than best friends."

"Yeah. The bestest." Cherrie agreed.

Their manager was in complete disbelief "so partners? A couple? Lovers?" She listed off what they were bluntly .

Cherrie hummed "yeah but like - platonically." She said.

Charles rolled his eyes at her "lying is a sin Cherrie."

She just gave him a amused look "so is fucking me in a sauna on camera." She shot back at him , stubbornly refusing to call them official.

"You're ridiculous. You two are in love. Stop denying it it's driving everyone crazy!" Their manager snapped at them before hanging up the phone, utterly fed up with them.

Charles have her a long , smug look "see? Everyone knows you love me." He stated .

She denied him "I do not."

"Yes you do! You're just too much of a wimp to admit it! We could be married by now!" He exclaimed whining at her , before suddenly pushing her off the bed .

She fell into the rug with a noisy huff, glaring up at him in annoyance. Face flushed red as he leaned over the side of the bed on his elbows , eyes daring her to argue with him some more.

"Just- just shut up!" Was all she huffed out. Refusing to admit that he was right.

They were definitely not just friends.

The day that the rest of the world found out that they were more than best friends was at the last race of the year, where the world champion was set to be crowned .

All eyes and ears were on them as they sped around the track, all fighting to get to the finish line first.

Charles already knew that it was a close battle for championship between max and Cherrie, the two completely equal in points .

He could feel his heart racing as he watched the Ferrari and redbull fight it out in front of him, wheel to wheel as the checkered flag came into view.

His eyes growing wide as he held his breath in anticipation , his eyes glued to the Ferrari in front of him as he watched it cross the line first, beating max by seconds.

"Oh my god!" He shouted out excitedly , grinning ecstatically as he crossed the line in third place after them. Laughing in glee as realisation set in, realising then what this meant .

"She did it! She fucking did it!" He screamed happily , proud tears filling his eyes as he watched the fireworks fill the sky above them .

The announcer calling out her name as they announced that Cherrie was the champion of the world!

"Holy shit bébé!" He shouted over and over again as he pressed the button that connected their two radios so he could speak to her.

Sniffling to himself as he heard her crying happily as she muttered his name back to him.

"You did it mon amour! You’re champion of the world! I knew you could do it! What did I tell you!" He shouted excitedly, so fucking happy .

She let out a tearful laugh as she parked her own car down the line . Hands shaking. Shaking her head in disbelief .

"I did it Charles! We did it!" She squealed , laughing gleefully .

"Je vous aime! Je vous aime! Je vous aime! vous femme incroyable!" He shouted to her so full of love as he pulled himself up out of his car. Ignoring his team patting him on the back celebrating.

(I love you! I love you! I love you! You amazing woman!)

He quickly jumped over the barrier and sprinted over to Cherrie just as she got out of the Ferrari, looking for him as well.

Letting out a loud laugh as he came barrelling into her, picking her up into his arms and spinning her around in pure excitement.

"Champion of the world bébé!" He yelled out , starting to cry himself as he pulled off his helmet and threw it to the side without a care in the world. Cherrie doing the same .

She beamed up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he squeezed her tightly to him. Both of them crying loudly as they jumped around in happiness.

"I can't believe it! I love you Charles! I couldn't have done this without you! You're my life!" She shouted to be heard over the deafening screams of their names as everyone celebrated around them, the camera pinned to them as their emotional display was put up on the screen for all to see.

He wiped at the tears on her cheeks, laughing and crying at the same time bedore he cupped her jaw in his hands and leaned his face down towards her own , before kissing her right in front of everyone to see.

Dipping her down in his arms as she laughed against his mouth, hearts pounding in their chests as the rest of the world finally got to witness their pure love.

Kissing her over and over again, grinning against her cheek as he pulled away to kiss all over her face, so fucking proud of her.

He told her so "I'm so proud of you! I knew you would win. I never doubted you for a second!" He gushed to her as their teams started pushing at them to go to the media and give their interview , the whole world watching them closely .

She just laughed as she clutched at his hand and pulled him alongside her over to the reporters , cameras flashing brightly at them, feeling people pat them on their back and congratulate them on the way.

The man was grinning at them excitedly "congratulations Cherrie! You're world champion! How do you feel?!" He asked her happily .

She just let out a joyful laugh, utterly overwhelmed .

Charles wrapping his arms around her neck from

Behind as he buried his face into her neck and hugged her, trying to stop crying .

"So fucking happy! This is the best day of my life!"

The man laughed and looked over at Charles who was still crying against her , his face red and tears pouring from his eyes , refusing to let go of her.

"And you Charles , third! That's fantastic! How are you feeling? What's your reaction to your teammate winning?"

Charles just blew out a loud breath, sniffling noisily as he placed his hand on the side of cherries head and pushed her face into his chest, rocking them from side to side as she giggled against him in amusement .

He had always been the emotional one out of the two of them. Now was no different .

"So happy! So fucking proud! The love of my life is world champion! She's fucking incredible! This will be a video that I'll show to our future kids and be like 'look! Your mother is world champion! She's the greatest woman in the world!" He rambled on , too hyped up on happiness to even think straight .

Cherrie blushed and patted his chest, trying to calm him down.

“Ah! Okay! Shhh!" She flustered , laughing to herself.

The reporter just smiled knowingly , watching Charles look down at her like she was god.

"So.. I guess it's safe to say that you two aren't just friends anymore?" He mused.

Charles just scoffed , grinning. "We're best friends who are lovers too! Who doesn't want to marry their best friend? We're going to be together forever!" He declared unashamedly . Kissing her again because he could .

Cherrie laughed and laughed as she tried to stop him from shoving his tongue down her throat on live tv , hooking her arm around his neck to hug him to her side instead .

Charles grinning smugly as he gently knocked their heads together , whispering in her ear over and over again.

"Je vous aime! pour toujours!"

(I love you! Forever!)

She guessed she couldn't keep denying the obvious anymore .

They had never been just friends.

#Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fic #formula one imagine

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xztloux · 5 months

Text

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

↳˗ˏˋ Tom kaulitz ˊˎ˗ ↴

▸ content warnings: reader is referred to as “girl” like once or twice, also wears a dress and makeup, kissing, cringe writing

▸ summary: spin the bottle got even more exciting

▸ A/N: this is my first time ever writing like a kissing/make out thing so I’m sorry it’s so bad. Not spell checked cuz it’s 12:30 am where I am 😍😭

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

Here you are In a random room with him -the boy you’ve known all off 4 hours or so- he had you pushed up against the door drunkenly making out with you, his hands exploding your body as he deepened the kiss. But that can wait, let’s see how you got to this point.

It was 5 at night you were sitting in your room listening to music “beautiful by Eminem” to be specific. (What I’m listening to rn as I write this 😍) when your best friend Addie bursts into your room. “Girl! Start getting ready.” She giggled practically jumping in the air. “Um..why?” You asked confused as you paused your music. “I just got a text from Emmie, she wants us to come to her party.” Addie smiled pulling you up from your bed. “So get ready pick the hottest dress you’ve got, we’re gonna find you a hookup.” She joked playfully winking at you. You playfully rolled your eye’s opening your closet to reveal all your clothes. After a while you narrowed your options down to a dark red off the shoulder dress and a light pink lacy dress. (Pick your favorite)

That was 2 hours ago and now you were fully ready, in your dress and a nice subtle makeup look. Addie looked amazing in her black mini skirt and baby blue crop top. “Ooo your looking sexy.” She giggled grabbing your hand happily. “Thanks add” you smiled at her before she dragged you outside to the taxi she’d called to take you to Emmies party. It was about a 20 minute drive and emmie greeted you two with open arms obviously a little tipsy. “Girlss come innn.” Emmie said her words slightly slurred as she pulled you both into the house shoving some alcohol in your hands.

An hour had passed when Addie came over to you drunkenly telling you about two guys who had arrived, apparently they were famous or something, you couldn’t understand properly because of the alcohol. “Yeah, you see those two over there.” She giggled pointing with a cup in her hand, you gaze followed to where she pointed eventally your eyes landed on the tow boys. One had black spikey hair and was wearing black eyes shadow. The other had dreadlocks and a lip piercing he wear quite baggy clothes compared to the other.

“Mhm yeah there twins and like famous or something.. apparently they know Emmies boyfriend” Addie words slurred a bit as she continued to drink. You nodded and let the thought of them leave your mind, but the bit with dreads kept staring at you as he drank. Suddenly the music stopped and Brad spoke up. “Alright we’re playing spin the bottle all y’all seat your ass’s down.” He yelled out obviously drunk like everybody else. Everyone shuffled to the living room sitting n the floor you obviously sat next to Addie, the boy with the dreads sat across from you along with his brother.

Brad spun the bottle to see who’s turn it would be first, and… it landed on you so you gently spun the bottle, it landed on some random boy from the party. Normally you would never randomly kiss some guy but you were drunk and having a great fucking time. You moved over to the boy giving him a kiss soon after his face went red. A couple other people had there turn’s before it was toms turn. It landed on you. Addie smiled gently nudging you as Tom made his way over to you, kissing you deeply, the kiss lasted longer then the others. Eventually you both broke away, his cheeks a slight pick shade, yours the same as you smiled at him before sitting down.

Now it was your turn, you spun the bottle again. It landed on toms brother, bill. You smiled walking over to him kissing him. Bill gave back the same energy being equally as drunk as you. After you broke away you giggled softly not noticing how jealous Tom looked. “Ima get another drink..” you smiled to Addie as you walked to thekitchen. A pair of footsteps following you though it was Addie do you didn’t bother looking back. “Fun that huh?” You giggled still thinking the person behind you was your friend.

“Yeah very.” A deep voice said back as arms wrapped around your waist. You jumped slightly looking behind you see Tom. “Oh I thought” you started to say before he cut you off my smashing his lips against yours, gently pushing you against the kitchen island. After a while he broke away needing to breathe. “Let’s go.” He said his breath heavy as he pulled you upstairs, your drink abandoned on the side. You happily followed him up the stairs as he pulled you into a random room, pushing you eagerly against the door his hands grabbing your hips.

“You liked that huh? Kissing my brother.” He asked leaning In close his breathing still heavy. That’s it. He’s jealous. You couldn’t help but play into it. “Yeah, it was great.” You panted smirking up at him, you could see the jealousy in his eyes as he began to kiss you again. “Guess I’ll just have to top him.” He says as he began to make to your neck gently biting and kissing it as his hands found there way to bottom of your dress. “Yeah, Ima make you mine.”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel tom kaulitz #x reader #Tokio hotel Tom kaulitz x reader

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littlemissthunderstorms · 10 months

Text

infatuated

alex turner x reader

enemies to lovers one shot! again, i dunno how to summarize it so just read and find out i suppose LOL (also kinda angsty)

———

you fiddled around with the piano, playing a few notes before sighing. you’d been in the studio for hours, only being able to come up with a few good rhythms. groaning in frustration you sat up, walking over to the window to clear your mind a bit. you ran a hand through your hair and gazed out the window. oh god. of course. a group of girls huddled outside of the studio, clearly here for alex.

you rolled your eyes. you’d known the guy for years and if they knew him the way you did, they surely wouldn’t be out there. alex hated you and the feelings were mutual. unfortunately, you’d seen a lot of each other the past five years. whether it be at parties, record label meetings, or even concerts, you two were always bickering. you’d been at a strokes concert a few months ago with a group of your friends and of course, alex was there, making an effort to find you and give you a snarky comment. he thought he was so cool with his stupid hair and his stupid sunglasses and his stupid accent and his stupid jokes. you hated it all.

but most of all you hated what he did to you. the year was 2013, you were throwing a party for your first album release, you were so excited. you’d invited tons of people and decorated your whole house. you’d spent hours hanging up fairy lights and paper stars. you couldn’t wait to celebrate your first album with everyone, it was a huge achievement. that same night, alex decided to throw a huge party to celebrate the success of the most recent arctic monkeys album, AM. so when it came time for people to show up to your party, almost nobody did. apparently everybody and their mother were too busy getting shit faced at alex’s, and you were heartbroken. your album still did well, but you were still destroyed over the fact that he ruined your perfect night.

so when you saw alex and miles pull up into the parking lot, probably to work on their new album, your heart wrenched, remembering the tears streaming down your face as you took all those fairylights and stars off of the wall. alex got out, acting all cool, taking pictures with a few fangirls and then strutting in alongside miles like he owned the place. safe to say it earned a few eye rolls from you. miles you could stand, he was a fairly nice guy. but alex on the other hand, not so much. so you’d stayed in your respective studio, trying to avoid him at all costs.

———

later on, you finished up your recording for the day and headed out. the sky was dark and inky as rain hit the pavement at a steady pace, the moon seeming darker this particular night. the fangirls were gone, you assumed alex came out to blow kisses to them during lunch or some stupid shit. you crossed your arms, snuggling into your jacket as a soft gust of wind blew shivery raindrops your way. when you got to your car, you noticed the parking lot was empty. well. almost empty. alex’s cadillac sat in the far corner of the lot, looking almost mysterious in the dark.

you ran a hand through your damp hair as you twisted the keys in the ignition of your ford cortina. nothing. what the fuck? you’d filled up your gas tank earlier that morning, and you were positive the battery was fine. groaning, you tried the ignition again and again. nothing. again. you sighed, about to reach for your phone to call a friend to pick you up when a knock at your window startled you, making you jump.

you squinted, raindrops fogging up the window, making it hard to see who the figure was on the other side. you rolled down the window and there he was. alex fucking turner in all his glory. his messy hair was damp and disheveled, a few strands dangling into his eyes. his white button up was slick with rainwater, sticking to his skin, showing off his toned biceps. to any other women, this would be a dream come true. but to you, it was a nightmare. you wanted nothing more than to go home and snuggle up with your cat and watch a movie in your cozy, dry pajamas but instead you were stranded in a dark, creepy parking lot and the guy you loathed was at your window. you looked up at him, a look of confusion and annoyance on your face.

“is everything okay?” he half shouted, trying to talk over the rain that was now pouring down much harder. “why do you care?” you licked your lips, confused. “i saw you struggling with your car. you’ve been in there for a while.” rain continued to pour, drenching him but he didn’t seem to care. “my car isn’t working. i don’t know whats up with it but you can leave, i’m fine. i’ll just call a friend to come get me or something.” you replied. “y/n. it’s getting late and the traffic is crazy. it would take someone an hour to get here and pick you up. you don’t want to be alone in this part of town late at night, trust me. let me give you a ride.” you sighed, staring back at the boy, thinking. as much as you didn’t want to be in a car with alex, getting murdered in a parking lot didn’t sound fun at the moment so you reluctantly agreed. “whatever man.”

———

alex’s car was dry, warm, and smelled like him. it was a nice shelter from the rain and as much as you disliked him, you were grateful for his kindness. you shivered as alex started the car, quickly moving to turn the seat warmers on. “thanks.” you muttered, crossing your arms to your chest for warmth. alex shifted his gaze to the road, avoiding eye contact. “no problem.”

———

the majority of the car ride was silent, the hum of the engine and the low volume of the radio playing old jazz songs the only thing you could hear. rain still pattered on the window as alex stopped behind a long line of cars, illuminations of red and orange car lights danced across your face. “shit. see. traffic.” alex muttered. you checked the time on the dashboard. 11:58, almost midnight. you just wanted to go home and go to sleep. “might take a while to get ya’ home.” alex looked over at you, reading your mind. you nodded in response, keeping your eyes fixated ahead of you as you leaned your head against the window. “you alright?” alex titled his head slightly, one hand glued to the steering wheel, still looking at you. “mhm.” you mumbled, still avoiding his gaze, staring at the road in annoyance.

alex didn’t seem convinced. he sighed and ran a hand through his now almost dry, disheveled hair as he looked back at the road, crossing his arms. the long line of cars wasn’t moving anytime soon. “did i do something to make you mad?” you shrugged, staring at the license plate of the car in front of you. “cmon, look at me.” he turned in his seat, almost fully facing you. annoyed, you turned your head, eyes meeting his. “i don’t get why you hate me so much.” he was determined to get you to answer him, dark brown eyes not leaving yours. you sighed. “you really don’t know?” you turned your body towards him, resting your side against the seat. he looked back at you, confused.

“it was your stupid party.” you sighed. “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows. you bit your lip, sad memories haunting you. “2013. that party you had to celebrate the success of your album.” his face lit up as he nodded. “ooh yeah. what about it?” he was so ignorant, so clueless and it hurt.

“that was the night my album release party was supposed to happen.” tears pricked your eyes, threatening to trickle down your cheeks but you looked away quickly and blinked, getting rid of them. “i- i was so excited. i decorated my whole house and everything.” you looked over at him to find him looking back at you, concern flooding his features. “um” you swallowed. “long story short nobody really showed up. i never got to celebrate my first ever album release. it was really important to me, i worked so hard on that album.” you looked away from him, fixating on the rain that formed puddles on the road. “apparently everyone was at your party and they couldn’t give a shit about mine.” your voice broke as a tear fell down your face. “i’m sorry. that sounded selfish.” you sniffled.

you looked over at alex to find him looking back at you with soft brown eyes, a frown plastered across his face. “i- i don’t know what to say. i’m so sorry.” he sighed, studying your face. “it’s not selfish either.” he looked at you like he was truly sorry. he looked away, thinking to himself for a moment before smiling softly and looking back at you.“can i tell you something?” you nodded, confused. alex looked away and grinned to himself. “i was so infatuated with you at the time.” your eyebrows raised and your heartbeat quickened. what was he saying? “what?” he looked over at you, eyes wide and he nodded. “seriously. i remember being fucking bored out of my mind at parties, hoping you would be there.”

your eyebrows twisted in confusion. “so you were basically obsessed with tormenting me. great.” you huffed and leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. alex looked over at you with a smile. “not at all, i mean sort of. honest to god i thought ya’ were drop dead gorgeous. i was just tryna flirt, i guess.” you met his gaze and burst out laughing as he smiled down at you, chuckling. “seriously?” you blurted. “you’re such an idiot turner! this whole time i thought you hated my guts and you’re telling me you liked me?” you wiped away tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. alex laughed along with you. “yep. i suppose.” he grinned at you and you wondered if this was the first time he’d ever genuinely smiled at you.

you sighed, staring back at the long, unmoving line of traffic. still grinning. you thought for a moment, processing everything alex said. you blushed as you recalled him calling you “drop dead gorgeous.” you turned to look at him, finding him already looking at you, which made your heart skip a beat. “drop dead gorgeous huh?” he nodded, giving you a knowing smile.

you thought for a moment, remembering how just a little over a month ago alex had came over to you at a party your friend was throwing. the party was loud, so he had to lean in close to talk to you. he bothered you the whole party, teasing and joking with you like he was trying to flirt.

your eyes widened in realization. “alex?” he smiled back at you. “yeah?” you bit the inside of your cheek. “any chance you’re still infatuated with me?” he grinned from ear to ear.

“i was waiting for you to catch on.”

———

RAAAAAHHH I HOPE U LIKEEE

this is a long one for sure but one of my favs!! i love enemies to lovers tropes with 1/3 of my heart (the other 2/3 is reserved for friends to lovers my all time fav)

goodnight sleep tight!

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #enemies to lovers #alex turner one shot #tlsp

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