#like 'she liked this so i am going to do it forever' sweet man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelsgreys · 2 months

Text

fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

1K notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 22 days

Text

God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller

Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader

18+ only!!!

Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.

CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.

AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.

And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.

Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.

You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”

You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.

You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.

Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.

You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.

Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.

He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.

She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.

His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.

She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.

He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.

She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.

And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.

He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.

He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.

His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.

Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.

Yep, I’m going for it.

You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.

The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.

“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”

“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.

Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.

You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.

“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.

You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.

“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no

And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear

King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world”

Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.

“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.

You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.

You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.

“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”

Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.

“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.

He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”

You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.

“Joel -” you start.

“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.

“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.

“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.

“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.

You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.

“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”

Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.

He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”

“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.

“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.

“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.

“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.

“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.

“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”

“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”

Taglist

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

832 notes · View notes

sunrizef1 · 4 months

Text

Austin Orange

Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: Daniel’s obsession with Austin goes even farther than just the city.

A/n: finished this at 1 am lmao

——————————————————————

yourusername

Austin, Texas 📍

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 12,762 others

yourusername hook’em 🐮🧡

load comments …

user1 I love her

user2 slayyy

user3 is she from Austin?

↳ user4 I think she’s from somewhere in east Texas, he family owns a ranch near Austin tho

user5 Daniel in the likes??? 😭

user6 Danny ric????

user7 you guys are late Danny’s been in this girls like for a loooong time

user8 😍

user9 r we gonna get farm content???

danielricciardo 😍

↳ user10 get outta here

↳ user8 I commented this too ur not special

↳ user2 a man…

danielricciardo

Austin, tx 📍

liked by landonorris Mclaren and 1,098,345 others

danielricciardo horns up 🤠

load comments …

landonoriss 🐮

user11 I <3 cowboy daniel

user12 Texas is my fav

user13 I recognize that hat shop…

user14 funniest thing is Daniel didn't even go to UT 😭

user15 this looks similar to a certain cow-girls post…

↳ user16 girl what

↳ user17 @/yourusername just posted and it was like these same pics

↳ user18 and Daniel even liked it lmao

↳ user19 not even trying to hide it lol

redbullracing 🐂

user20 does he understand college football???

user21 🐄🤠🧡

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 38,422 others

yourusername god bless texas 🧡

load comments …

user22 where is heeeee

user23 the cow 🥹

user24 ranch content!

user25 I thought cowgirls were just in movies…

user26 liked by danielricciardo

user27 what’s the animals names?

↳ yourusername the cow is named Cheeto and the horse is named Billy <3

↳ user28 CHEETO?? 😭

danielricciardo 👋

↳ yourusername 👋

user29 YALL SEEING THIS?

user30 she responded!!!!

user31 so they’re in love now

user32 I wanna be a farm girlie 🥲

yourusername added to their story

yourbsf

↳ wonder who took that picture 🤔

yourusername

↳ 😒

danielricciardo added to their story

landonorris

↳ 👀 did you get a certain Texan to show you around???

danielricciardo

↳ mate.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

danielricciardo

Liked by maxverstappen landonorris and 1,209,301 others

danielricciardo 🧡

load comments …

user33 sorry???

user34 🧑‍🦯 I do not see

user35 IS THAT Y/N????

user36 ewww

user37 CHEETO???

user38 no cuz you guys don’t get it, y/n had used the orange heart for forever and now Daniel is posting it after he finally got to meet her my heart can’t take it

landonorris 💋💋💋

↳ danielricciardo shut up

user39 that better be y/n or so help me god

user40 lando?? 😭

yourbsf 👀

liked by danielricciardo

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo landonorris and 112,332 others

yourusername she’s country

load comments …

user41 danielllll

user42 that’s Daniel if I’ve ever seen him

user43 billyyyyy

↳ user44 the true star

landonorris hey

↳ danielricciardo ???

user45 she’s so bae

user46 when she’s from Texas >

user47 I still don’t like her

↳ yourbsf girl stfu he won’t pick you

liked by yourusername

user48 liked by danielricciardo

user49 I’m in love with them both

user50 I don’t think that’s Daniel 🤷‍♀️

↳ user51 girl where else would Danny get a cow from

yourusername added to their story

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 506,321 others

yourusername he’s new around here 🧡

load comments …

user52 oh god they’re like sickeningly sweet

user54 YEAHHHHH

user55 Daniel Ricciardo school of manifestation

user56 THIS IS WHAT WEVE BEEN WANTING

user57 couple of the year I fear

danielricciardo my lady 🧡

↳ yourusername my cowboy 🧡

↳ user58 AWWWWW

user59 sobbing

landonorris 🤠💋

liked by yourusername

user60 I’m in love with both of them

user61 fav couple

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #Daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #danny ric #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x female reader

1K notes · View notes

f1rodrigo · 3 months

Text

the mclaren boy mystery

l. norris / o. piastri

summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna

a/n: made this on a whim instead of studying for exams & doing hw. there will be more parts eventually... i hope you enjoy for the sake of my abandoned school work. (edit hours later) -> omfg i spent all day working on this (literally at the expense of my hw & studying lolol) & i was about to publish it when i went to my drafts & it was just GONE. i was about to be in tears. i tried everything & finally accepted the fact that it was going to be gone forever. BUT i just opened tumblr again & there she was!!!! so so happy. anyways hope you enjoy<33.

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

liked by landonorris, and 22,019 others

yourusername fast cars n pretty girls 💌

view all 671 comments

user1 i have no idea who these girls are but lando is in the likes......

⤷ user2 fr i'm so curious now

⤷ user3 landos girl of the week i suppose 🤣

⤷ user4 prob just ur typical rich girls who spend their weekends at races 🤷🏻‍♀️

yourbestfriend same time next week?

francisca.cgomes gorgeous girls

⤷ yourusername love u kiks

⤷ user5 guys..... i am thinking Thoughts...

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

yourusername added to their story

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

liked by mclaren, and 542,111 others

oscarpiastri Singapore, the new helmet and I are ready ✨

view all 1,212 comments

mclaren ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

user1 LETS GOOOOO

user2 oscar piastri singapore gp winner has a nice ring to it

user3 sexy helmet for a sexy man

user4 SLAYYYYYY

yourusername love the new helmet osc liked by author

⤷ user5 now she's in oscars comments wtf

⤷ user6 and he liked 😯

⤷ user7 are f1 drivers not allowed to have friends or something

user8 absolutely loveee 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, and 44,921 others

yourusername we <3 singapore

view all 891 comments

user1 guys this isn't funny anymore WHO IS SHE

⤷ user2 lando's gf

⤷ user3 SERIOUSLY?? HOW DO YOU KNOW

⤷ user2 calm 😭😭😭😭😭😭 i was joking i have no clue but honestly wouldn't doubt it

⤷ user4 would yall call me insane if i said i think she's oscars gf

⤷ user5 yes

⤷user6 hmm im listening

user7 oscar in the likes... after she was in his comments...

user8 full main post of lando AND oscar ffs no shame

⤷ user9 maybe they're friends like wtf is the big deal????

⤷ user10 obvs clout chasing

⤷ user11 literally how 😐

⤷ user12 misogyny thats how 👎🏻

⤷ user13 cmon not even close, no one in the f1 community had any clue who this girl was and one day she starts posting about f1 immediately people start talking about her thinking she's dating lando and then next post she's posting him and oscar like clearly trying to get people to keep talking about her. she more than likely isn't with either of them and is she just cashing in her 15 seconds of fame or trying to live out her wag dream

⤷ user14 not the essay in the instagram comment section bffr

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

yourusername added to their story

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

landonorris added to their story

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

part two

reply or send me a message to be added to the taglist 🤍

#lando norris #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #formula one #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #f1 2024 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #f1rodrigo

992 notes · View notes

youraverageaemondsimp · 7 months

Text

“Made for me.” // Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Thank you everyone for 1K followers, I am so grateful for all the support I've received for my fics, it's kind of an emotional moment for me cause I never thought I'd get this far, so here is the fic from this poll! this is short since I did not have much time and I do not want to delay my 1k celebration fic further! <3

MDNI // DD:DNE // reader discretion is advised.

Summary: As far as Aemond can remember, he had liked you, not in a way a brother loves his sister, no, in a way a man loves a woman, finding out that you were soon to be betrothed to a Tully for alliance, he feels devastated, until he decides he can prevent it, by ruining you.

WARNINGS: heavy noncon to dubcon, mindbreak, mindfuck, canon typical incest, creepy aemond(?), possessive aemond, dark!aemond, jealousy, obsession, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, virginity loss, mentions of blood, purity culture, medieval age standards (no smut until 18+), cum eating, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, porn with little plot. + not proofread.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

WC: 3k

For as long as Aemond can remember, he had always been smitten with you, his little sister, someone very dear to him, he had loved you since the moment you were born, immediately becoming someone he swore to protect.

He was rumoured to have some romantic feelings for helaena, which wasn't entirely false but if anyone were to look closely, they would realise that the longing gaze he holds for helaena is nothing compared to the one when he looks at you.

As he grew into a man, these feelings developed further, and as he watched you grow into a woman, desire managed to get a hold of him. He remembers the first time he felt carnal attraction towards you, it was your sixteenth nameday, you had worn a beautiful green dress that showed a little cleavage, something his mother would've been against but she let it slide that time, he remembered as you bent over in front of him to get something from the table, giving him full view of your tits which he immediately looked away from.

That night he had rushed back to his chambers as fast as possible to tug on his length at the thought of you.

He was never the same after that, every touch ignited a fire in him, when you would lay on his thigh as you both sat beneath the godswood while he read, he had to fight the urge to take you right then and there, taking your maidenhead in front of the gods to bind you to himself forever.

As the years passed, his feeling for you grew stronger and stronger.

“Aem!” There was your sweet voice calling him once again, his gaze lifted from the book on the table to your form which stood a few metres away from him, you smiled when you noticed his gaze was on you, walking over to him so you stood next to him, peering down on the book he was reading.

“What are you reading?” you ask curiously, voice leaking with inquiry, he looked down at his book before glancing up again, “Just a book about our history, valyria.” he tells you and you lean down slightly over his shoulder, your platinum blonde locks falling over and curtaining the side of his face as you read the text.

“Would you read it to me?” you inquire and he nods, before you shoot him the bright smile that never seemed to leave your face, and pull the chair beside him, causing the wood to make a noise as it glid against the floor, and sitting down on it.

He began reading and you listened to him for quite a while, before your eyes started becoming droopy and closing as sleep tried to overwhelm you, it wasn't because you were not interested in the history, no, it was due to the fact that your older brother's voice was extremely comforting.

He chuckled when he tried your efforts to keep yourself awake and closed the book, “Sister, you must not fight when sleep finds you, go to thine chambers and rest.”

“But brother! You have just gotten to Aegon's conquest.” you pout, and he chuckles, “I shall read it to you tomorrow, now go rest.” he manages to convince you and obey his word.

Aemond sighs as he watches you walk away, you were the Apple of his eye, everyone knew, he had been protective of you since you were younger, though he developed certain type feelings, the kind that a brother shouldn't develop for his sister, but alas, targaryens have queer customs, after all, his elder sister was married to Aegon, their older brother.

It was only time until mother betrothed you both, and he would wait patiently for that, he would often imagine how married life with you would be, it would be perfect.

But all those dreams were crushed when he finds out that your mother was planning to betrothed you to a tully, to get their alliance in case of Aegon's claim for the throne. Angry was an understatement, he was extremely pissed off, and what did you do? You gladly accepted it, even managing to look happy at the proposal.

Just then he remembers his elder sister's words. ‘If one possesses a thing, the other will take it away.’

He could not have that.

He can not have you be taken away from him, that too by an undeserving house such as tully.

You knew something was extremely odd when Aemond came to your chambers at night, he never did that, always deeming it inappropriate for a lady and a man to be together after the moon has risen unless they were husband and wife. So it was extremely shocking as to what he was doing in your chambers, knowing he took the secret entrance since the guard did not mention Aemond at all when you entered.

“Brother? What are you doing here so late?” you ask as you approach him, he is sitting on the chair near the fireplace, turning his head to the side as if to acknowledge your presence, the light bouncing off his face making his features look much more angular and intimidating.

“I have missed you, dear sister.” he stood up and turned to face you, and you peered up at him confused, “I had heard about your betrothal to a tully, though I do not remember his name, I came here to wish you pleasantries and a prosperous marriage.” he tries his best to not scowl.

You smile widely.

And that immediately sets him off.

“Thank yo-” before you could finish your sentence, Aemond grabs you harshly by your cheeks, pulling his face towards his own, “You're happy? You're fucking happy?” he growls as his breath fans your face, “Aemond-” before you could say anything, the same hand that was gripping your cheeks goes to your hair, pulling your head back, your hands fly up to his to make him release his grip as the tug at your strands were incredibly painful.

He doesn't say anything but slams his lips against yours, moving against yours in a frantic rhythm, your eyes widen at this and you push at his chest to pull him off, but he uses the grip on your hair to further push you against him, and soon you're all flush against him, weakly trying to pushing him off while the hand in your hair keeps tightening as the other holds your waist gently.

A true contrast.

He pulls away to breathe and he looks at your teary eyes, as you look at him, “Aemond- you're scaring me.” you say weakly, shaking as his eye narrows, “I love you.” he blurts out and you look at him shocked, “But- we're siblings–”

“We're also targaryens.” he cuts you off, and lets go of your hair.

You squeal when he lifts you up roughly, before making haste over to your bed and throwing you on it, and before you can get up, he traps you in his arms.

“I do not wish to see you married to someone else, you have been mine, since the day you were born, sister.” he whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to it. You gasped when you felt his hand grope at your clothed breast giving it a tight squeeze and you tried prying his hand off to no avail.

“Aem- please stop-” you beg but he doesn't listen and his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, “Sister, tell me the truth have you not felt anything when you stay with me? A warm feeling in your heart?” your breathe hitches as he asks you that question, and you look away from him, feeling ashamed that you held feelings for him, they very well hidden, you felt ashamed whenever you would feel heat pool between your legs as you watched Aemond do quite literally anything.

He undoes his breeches and pulls his cock out, undeniably hard, “If I ruin you then mother won't marry you off to him, besides, no one would want a woman that is ruined, especially by her own brother.” he says and you sob, shaking your head and you gasp as you feel his dick pressed against your core.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, he tore your dress apart, the stitches popping off with a noise, as he changed his grip and undoes your clothing.

You try to push him off and hit his chest, in defiance, but he is much stronger than you, pinning your hands above with his one hand as the other pulls off the shredded clothing, with your final strength, you deliver a hard kick to his crotch which causes him to groan and plop on the bed next to you in pain, and you use that change to try and scramble up and off the bed but to your disdain, he immediately recovers and pulls you down with a tight grip on your leg but pushing them apart, placing himself between them and then wrapping his hands around your neck, the grip cutting off air circulation rapidly as you struggled against him.

“Fucking cunt.” he says before spitting on your face and you cry, you feel your brain go dark as you start loosing consciousness at the lack of oxygen only for him to let go, cause you to take a deep breath on relax, snapping you awake at once.

“Sister, look how much you are leaking, way too much for someone that pretends like they hate it.” he rubs his cock against your folds, coating it in your juices and he groans, before he leans in, kissing your neck and then your breasts before pulling back.

“Brother please- ah!” you gasp when you felt his hot fingers press against your bud, rubbing it, making you squirm as you grip his hand and try to push it off but his grip stays firm and you eventually give up, hands falling to your sides and gripping the sheets below as he plays with cunt.

He knew you'd eventually break.

He did not want to hurt you or force you.

But you weren't making it easier and he did not have much time either, so he had to resort to this.

You reach your peak with a loud moan of his name which went straight to his cock, he leaned down and kissed you once more, holding your legs apart by force and then grabbing his cock before lining it up against your entrance, slowly pushing the thick head in, your hands shot up to his shoulder to grab them, nails digging into the skin as he rips you apart on his cock, bullying into you without mercy, his hand covering your mouth as you let out painful whines to shush you up. You whimper when you feel him fully sheathed inside you, feeling too full, your cunt clenching around him painfully tight to push him out but he stays there.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you were made to.” he whispers in your ear before pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, causing you to let out a scream, although it was muffled, at the pain. The orgasm before had only helped a little, he was too thick and big.

At first he starts slowly, pulling back and snapping one at a time, trying to give you time to adjust until you whimpered his name, which made him lose any and all control he had as his pace became faster, brutally slamming his cock inside you as you whined and moaned beneath him.

The sound of wet slapping noises soon fill the air and the smell of sex starts taking over, your mind becomes all hazy at what was happening to you, you watch as Aemond takes one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on the nipple, drool spilling all over it while his hand gropes the other, massaging it. Your hand travels to his hair and you arch your back, shoving more of your breast in his mouth, making him groan in delight.

He pulls back with a pop and you look at him gasping and wide eyed as he thrusts into you, eyes dropped as slight drool leaks from the sides of your mouth, letting out moans when he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Fuck- you're so perfect, made just for me.” he grunts, supporting himself on his hands above you, hair curtaining around your face as you stare directly in his eye, watching him close it in pleasure, gasping when he feels you clench around him.

“You're mine right?” his eye opens and he looks at you intensely, you nod, agreeing with what he was saying, your mind losing all of its ability to think rationally the moment he entered inside you, you felt your stomach tighten.

“Use your words.” he commands and you gulp, “Yes only yours— ah! Fuck aemond!” you throw your head back as your second orgasm hits you, moaning out loud and he let's out a shaky breath before you felt his thrusts become sloppy, “Fuck, I'm gonna fill this cunt up, watch my seed take root in your womb, you're mine, mine to fuck, marry, breed, you'll give me many heirs won't you?” he goes off, voicing his thoughts and you feel warm and turned on at his words, “Yes- brother, I'm all yours, only yours.” you say, grabbing his cheek and rubbing a thumb on his scar and he finishes inside you with a loud moan, pushing himself to the hilt as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum inside you.

He pulls out, still somehow hard and lays down beside you, and you feel so empty without him inside you, so you whine, “Aem- I need you.” you pout and he looks at you wide eyed, and you don't know what comes over you, but you find your patience running thin as you wait for him to do something, so you take matters into your own hands, getting on top of him, grabbing his blood soaked cock before rising your hips and sitting down on it.

“Sister?” Aemond asks questionably, as he grabs your hips, watching you bounce on top of his cock, breasts moving up and down as you moan loudly into the chambers, only his name, on repeat and that's when he finally understands what happened.

He broke you.

He fucked your mind.

He should feel bad, knowing how now you're seeking him and his cock out like a bitch in heat but he doesn't, he feels more accomplished at that, knowing you desire no one but him. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm around him as you reach your peak, and instead of stopping, you continue riding him, wanting to bring him to his peak as well, you take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, making him grip it and play with your nipple.

“Brother please! Please cum inside me, I want you to fill me up.” you beg and Aemond groans at that, “Want- want you so bad! please haa, I need to have your children.” you moan and Aemond felt himself reach his peak harshly at that, filling you up once again.

Aemond changes the position, getting on top of you again, cock still inside and you give him a small smile before grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss, his lips move passionately against yours, before he pulls away, kissing down your neck and to your breasts, he pulls out and slowly trails kissing down to your down, watching as his loads of cum leak out from you, he pushes his tongue out and collects his juice on his mouth, before shoving it inside again, engulfing your cunt in his mouth, you grab his hair and grind your hips against his face, moaning his name loudly as he works his mouth, his nose shoved against your clit, creating friction whenever he moves his head, and soon enough, you reach your peak once again, “Brother!” you moan as you arch your back and he groans into your cunt, lapping up at the juices being secreted from you, before pulling away from it, placing wet kisses on your inners thighs and coming up towards you again, and kissing you, shoving his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste both your combined juices, and you groan into the kiss at the taste.

You both spent that night just like that.

Your mother was horrified when she had heard about this, and tully had walked in on the conversation, scrunching up his face in disgust and calling off your betrothal, you stood with your arm wrapped around Aemonds arm as he explain his mother what happened, looking away and hiding in his arms as she yelled at him for ruining and spoiling you, before inevitable deciding to betroth you both as result.

And you both were married, two moons later.

The maesters were extremely confused when you went into labour earlier than what they had predicted, they thought that it was going to be a stillbirth, yet they were confused to see when a healthy silver hair babe popped out, crying and cooing. They considered it a miracle but only Alicent and Aemond knew the truth.

Aemond stood there with his child in his arms as he gazed lovingly upon him, a son. You smiled at him as he cooed in high valyrian.

“Maester, When can I take her again?” That question caught the maester off guard and he cleared his throat before speaking up, “I would suggest waiting 6 weeks until she is fully healed, or 3 moons time.” and Aemond hummed.

The maester leaves the room, leaving you, aemond and the babe alone, the baby cooing at his father, small hand entangled in his hair.

“After you heal, I shall put a babe inside you again, dear wife.” He comes down and sits next to you and you smile, “As you wish, husband.” you tease and press a kiss on his lips.

———

3K notes · View notes

animehideout · 4 months

Note

Hi um it’s my first time requesting something..😭so I mean it’s okay if you put your other requests before me

So I was thinking maybe ..can you make a reincarnated version of a princess reader and sukuna ? Like they were lovers in past but she died because villagers killed her and her family because her father was cruel but she was nice to everyone actually and that’s why he fell for her and after 400 years he saw her again but this time she’s one of the sorcerers

For Eternity

Ryomen Sukuna X fem! Sorcerer Reader (Reincarnated)

a/n: Hii anon, hear me out, I was so excited to write this one , you guys always come up with amazing ideas OMG!! I really hope you enjoy it tho 🥺❤️.

Words count : 2.9k (Not proofread)

Angst with happy ending <3

Halted mid-fight. Crimson eyes that were amused while fighting Megumi are now wide open, in shock. Aflamed with ancient fire. His mouth parted in disbelief, unable to form a sentence while looking at you, standing in front of him, in your full glory.

“That's impossible” he managed to say.

Too distracted by your surprise appearance, the love of his life, his princess, the woman he couldn't uproot from his mind despite being separated from her for 400 years, after some villagers murdered her along side her family.

Too engrossed in your face, the face he missed so much, he didn't notice Megumi's attack.

Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses, that hundreds of sorcerers from different timelines tried to kill him but failed, ended up receiving a powerful punch on his face by Megumi.. because of you, because your presence made him weak and easily targeted.

That punch knocked some sense in him, waking him up from his trance. Now easily dodging Megumi's hits, shoving him aside, no longer interested in fighting some jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y/n” he said as he took a closer step to you, his voice was so soft and sweet, making Megumi look in confusion. “My princess” he added, gently extending his hand to you,

but was met with your cold eyes, clenching your fists into a fighting position, ready to use your jujutsu technique and kill him. Sukuna chuckled in confusion, why on earth would you fight the man you loved against your family and people's will?

“What are you doing? Y/n?” he asked not realizing that being reincarnated means forgetting your past life.

“What am I doing? I'm going to exorcise you Ryomen Sukuna and free the world from your evil” you exclaimed in a challenging voice, yet perplexed by his question and how he knew your name even though it was your first time meeting.

“Y/N RUN” yelled Megumi from the other side as Sukuna got way too close to you, but you stood your ground.

“No you won't kill me! it's me!! the man you swore to love forever–” he explained.

“HUH?!” you and Megumi said in union.

“Are you insane? clearly living for 1000 years damaged your brain” you said in a harsh tone,

furious that Sukuna was toying with you, even though he was telling the truth. Without hesitation, you started attacking him. To your and Megumi's surprise, he didn't fight you back, or even bother to block your hits, you found it as an opportunity to harm him and maybe success in exorcising him.

His soul ached with each blow you landed on him, with the words you said to him.

“Y/n stop” he said,

but you're a jujutsu sorcerer, you can't stop, you fight to protect the weak you fight to kill curses, that's what you do. He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to his chest,

“Fucking stop it Y/n and fucking remember who you truly are” he yelled.

You fought against his tight grasp even though he was holding you so delicately, yet so securely afraid to let go, afraid he might loose you again.

“I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, that's what I truly am–”

“NO YOU'RE NO SORCERER, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO I REMAINED LOYAL TO EVEN AFTER YOUR DEATH, FOR LONG 400 YEARS, YOU CAN'T BE A SORCERER WHEN YOU'RE ALREADY MINE”

You couldn't say anything but stare, eyebrows frowned with the intake of words that Sukuna said to you. When he first approached you, you thought he'd easily snap you in half, or torture you to death. But he did the unexpected, the thing that nor you or Megumi anticipated. He just held you close, and started babbling nonesense.

As long as you were safe, Megumi didn't do anything, he stood there and watched things unfold, too surprised to even react.

“I.AM.NOT.YOURS” you said through gritted teeth, freeing yourself from his embrace, eyes narrowing

“Then who the hell are you?” he asked in disappointment, his eyes fixated on your figure, trying to take into every detail of yours.

Even after years, your face and body that he worshipped and still do, is still engraved im his mind to this day.

“I already said it, I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, and I exorcise things like you” you spitted angrily.

“Things?” he repeated,

his soul shattering with the eco of your voice that rang in his ears. You weren't the princess whose kindness and gentleness captivated his cold heart and ascended on the throne of his ego. Sukuna never believed in love, just power and total vigor. But a princess, with a modest heart and a pure soul swept him off his feet, 400 years ago, making him weak and needy for love, something he never experienced, something he never dreamt of untill he met you. But now, you stood in front of him, cold and distant, full of hatred and enmity towards him. Maybe..maybe if your father wasn't cruel, maybe if those fool villagers didn't kill you, maybe if Sukuna knew beforehand and manged to save you and keep you alive, you'd still be his princess, by his side and not the jujutsu sorcerer you are.

“Then you leave me with no choice Y/n” he muttered,

the idea of killing you, killed him more.

“Y/N” yelled Megumi panicking.

You wanted to run away for your life, but you couldn't. Too scared to even move? Too attached to the idea that jujutsu sorcerers never run away? Or an invisible power held you in place?

Sukuna's red eyes started glowing, evil and scary expression drawn on his face once again, making him the ruthless king of curses that he is. His eyes couldn't leave yours, taking into your sight, one last time before be kills you.

Air hitched in your lungs from fear, you knew there's no point in fighting him back now, as your jujutsu that you've spent your whole life mastering is now useless. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to just do it and end it all, your life wasn't special....but your past life was..Oh if you knew that, you wouldn't give in to death so easily.

You waited and waited but nothing happened....

Jolting, a startled gasp left your mouth when Megumi shook you awake.

“M-megumi?...Am I dead?”

“What? No!”

“D-did you kill Sukuna?”

“No”

“Then we're both dead?”

“NO, he left”

“left?”

Is it a miracle? Did Sukuna pity you and spared your life? All these questions burned in your throat, craving answers.

“Let's go” said Megumi dragging you back to Jujutsu High.

A long sleepless night, how could you sleep after the king of curses confessed his undying love to you? What is so special about you that stopped him from splitting you in half? Looking at the dark ceiling, mind wide awake for hours now.

“What game was Sukuna playing?” you said to yourself.

You refused to believe his words, but you couldn't brush the curiosity that stirred inside you. Putting your jacket on, you headed outside for some fresh air, the room was too suffocating for you. You stood outside looking at the starry night above you, eyes fixated on one particular star, your favorite that you used to watch.

“I have to meet him again” you muttered to yourself.

You knew he could easily kill you, were you dumb or brave to chase the truth from Sukuna? You needed to know, even though you put the possibility of him making all of this up to get to Gojo Satoru and the other strong sorcerers.

Busy in your thoughts, a hand covered your mouth, making you freeze in place. You could feel his strong presence, no one other than him Sukuna Ryomen. Heart hammering against your ribcage, as if he was reading your mind, you wanted to meet him again and he showed up in the middle of the night, emerging from darkness...just for you.

“Come with me”

And who were you to fight against his will, so you followed along, his hand still on your mouth and his other arm wrapped protectively around you..he was trying to protect you while you thought he's the danger. He was loving you while you thought he's the enemy. Taking you to an abandoned place, up on a hill– Everything looked so small from up there, the city lights glistening.

“You always liked to go up on a hill and watch the sunrise with me, you said they are a proof that everyday is a new beginning and a new chance” he started, peacefully looking down at the lights.

Your eyes widened, how did he know you enjoyed watching the sunrise? was he stalking you?

“If you kidnapped me to kill me then do it already!” you said coldly but deep inside shivering form his presence.

“Kill you? 400 years mourning your death and you expect me to kill you?” he said in a sad tone, his palm cupping your cheek, as his thumb caressed the smooth skin. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation, “I love you Y/n” he added.

You could have stepped back, but something was holding you still, an unexplained force

“But I'm alive, what death are you talking about? Are you trying to drive me insane? What game are you playing Sukuna?” you drowned him in questions, that only him hold the answers for.

You almost broke down, tears threatening to fall. He helped you sit down and took a seat next to you

“I know you're confused, I can't balme you, I'm confused too, but let me explain to you..”

you nodded weakly, all what you wanted in the first place was an explanation.

“We were lovers, many years ago, you were mine... A gentle princess that I couldn't help but fall for..you, you were a princess Y/n– your family ruled back then, your father, a cruel man, an abuser who made your life a living hell, you used to escape from him and come to me, you found safety and warmth in my arms. Despite my sins, despite my cruelty, I was always gentle with you, I've never hurt you and never will, I've lived to protect you...but I failed..” he paused clenching his jaw and tightening his fists, “They took you away from me, you were a victim of their revenge, they wanted your father to suffer by taking what he had, thinking that Killing his family would make him pay for his wrong deeds towards the villagers he oppressed.....you were the price Y/n..I couldn't get a chance to revive you, they burned you alive, leaving me with nothing but emptiness..I killed them all even your father..”

You gulped, how could you believe this when you clearly have a complete different life now. It was hard to swallow his words.

“Maybe I just look like her?..I mean your past lover, maybe it's just a coincidence we have the same name and face, may–”

“NO, it's not just your face, it's your soul, I can feel it”

“So you're saying I'm a reincarnation?” you questioned and he nodded. You stood up quickly, leaving him,

“NO Y/N WAIT.. your favorite flower is Ajisai, you enjoy looking at them” he spoke trying to prove to you that he knows more about you

“Its just a guess Sukuna, anyone can like Ajisai, not only me” you fought the urge to believe him and started walking away,

“You have a crystal necklace, I gave it to you when we first met” he said again,

and you stopped in your track, no one ever saw your necklace it was always hidden beneath your clothes..

“A star, appears in the west, you've named it Heiwa (japanese word for Peace), your favorite star, manifesting peace whenever you looked at it. Collecting leaves in Autumn, you liked the degradation of the colors. Watching the rain pour for hours, dancing while getting soaked with it, saying it purifies us, Admiring the butterflies during spring, wishing that one day you become free like them...” he added.

Electricity ran through you, hands shaking, breathing heavily as your heart raced inside. How could he know every detail about you? your habits? how could he be so accurate? It's not just a coincidence so how? You turned slowly, facing him again,

“W-who are you?”

“Ryomen Sukuna, your lover”

“I can't remember anything..” you choked on tears.

“You will, if you don't fight it back, embrace it and memories will flow back” he reassured..

The first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, a gentle gradation of purples and pinks painted the sky, gradually giving way to warm oranges and yellow. You and Sukuna watched, eyes glued ti the sky, putting you at ease, as the sun rays pierced through the darkness, casting a golden glow..maybe this sunrise is a new beginning for both of you.

“I- I have to go..”

“Wait Y/n.. promise me that you'll try to remember ” he pleaded,

you nodded, sadness taking over you, you left to Jujutsu High with a heavy heart. Was your whole life a lie?

“Where have you been?” asked Gojo, catching you as you snuck into the school.

“I- Um, I” you stuttered.

“Megumi told me about your encounter with Sukuna..hm so curious, how the king of curses withdraws from a battle field?”

you remained silent as you teacher Gojo tried to read your face,

“I don't know” you said.

“I think he's got something for you Y/n”

“It doesn't matter, right?”

“Nah it does, we can use it against him maybe..”

“How?”

“It seems like Sukuna has a weakness..you!”

“And?”

“We grasp the opportunity, you trick him and lead him to our trap, if you're in of course!” he suggested.

Will you betray him and forget about the promise you just made, to try and remember.

“I don't know Sensei, I'll think about it” you answered, you weren't in a stable state of mind of take such decision.

“Take all the time you need y/n-chan” he said with a wide smile.

Straight to your room, no missions for today, you needed solitude, you needed to know who you truly were. Locked inside no matter how much your friends tried to drag you out. Thinking and thinking.. holding the necklace that Sukuna assumed he's the one who gifted it to you. You've never remember how you got in the first place, you've been wearing it for your whole life now, its just an accessory.

Day after day, growing impatient and anxious, you thought you were going crazy, unable to focus on your present while trying to remember your past. Sleepless nights, exhaustion and living nightmares.

Enough is a enough. Sneaking out of Jujutsu High, going up that hill again. You were hoping to find Sukuna there, you wanted to tell him him to just forget about you and to kill you next time in battle. You couldn't remember, but you knew there was something hidden, far away from your reach and it tortured you. With heavy steps you hiked up...but he wasn't there...Sighing, maybe it was all a lie. Your eyes looked up, there was Heiwa, the star you named.

“please show me the truth...please I need to remember ” you pleaded to the universe, desperately whispering.

You brought you necklace that was hidden under your sweater, kissing it. The soft morning lights started crawling, your favorite star's glow slowly fading..

“Who am Im?” you asked again.

Suddenly the crystal on your necklace started ti glow once it was touched by the sun's rays. Your eyes widened, the necklace was always tucked under your clothes, never seen the day light. Each luminous pulse from the crystal seemed to sync with your heartbeat. Eyes fixated on it, you held it up, exactly in the middle aligned with the sun that rose from the east and the star thay faded in the west. The crystal radiated with memories from your past life

“I accept it, I accept my truth” you whispered.

Images, voices, scents, faces and emotions started to flow into your mind like a running river. Overwhelmed by the sudden remembrance you started crying

“I-its real” you cried out.

The crystal that once was worn as a simple accessory, transformed into a vessel of remembrance, channeling gour past life into your present, it channelled your love for Sukuna as well. Your heart suddenly full of him, as if you loved him for years, as if you've never been apart.

“Sukuna– I have to find him” you said to yourself,

ready to run as fast as you could to reach your lover and hug him again, to feel his warmth. As you turned at a random speed, you bumped into his chest, he was there, for you. His arms circled around your body, stopping you form stumbling backwards.

“S-sukuna?” you said softly,

throwing yourself into his embrace, burying your head in the crook of his neck, while sobbing uncontrollably. His strong arms pulled you close, leaving no space between your bodies.

“I knew you'd remember” he said smiling nuzzling into your hair.

You pulled away a little to look at his face, his thumb wiped your tears, his touch making your heart pound fast.

“I love you” you confessed.

“I love you too, I swear I'll protect you , I won't let anyone take you away from me this time”.

He pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his love that was kept unspoken of after your death for 400 years into the kiss. You kissed him back, passionately. He pushed your head from the back further to his face, deepening the kiss. Oh how much he missed your taste, how much he missed your soft lips and how perfectly they fit with his. Leaving you completely breathless, hungry for more– His lips danced in sync with yours, completely devouring each other. He finally rested his forehead on yours and said,

“It doesn't matter, past or present, because in each life, you'll be only mine”.

676 notes · View notes

candyk0rn · 8 months

Text

Cuddles : BG3

It’s been a while! I hope you’re all doing great, and I’m sorry for once more going on a forever break lol. But of course, Baldurs Gate 3 brainrot is so real

Before reading: Fluff, headcanons, Astarion, Lae’Zel, Gale, Shadowheart x reader (separate), gn reader

Astarion:

“Oh? I see you still can’t say no to my endless charm..”

At the beginning of the relationship, touches and prodding aren’t uncommon

Anything that can bring your attention to him

It takes a while and a lot of convincing from you that his somewhat risqué touches was not all that pleased you

And eventually he can even process that you don’t just love him for his body

Although hard for him to realize, with your help he can

So after your relationship has really blossomed and grown, his touches become softer, calmer, more intimate

Nights by the crackling fire, you in his lap, his hand massaging your nape

His fingers are dangerously cold against your skin, but there’s a sense of comfort that comes with the chill

Although he will brush off your reassurance as pitiful and unneeded..

Please reassure him omg

For the longest time, he will surely believe you are like all his other conquests,

Seduced by him and his charms

But just small whispers of love into his ear, your comforting touch against his skin

That’s enough for him.

Gale:

“Come with me, we shall rest under the stars tonight.”

I am of the firm believer that Gale is horribly touch-starved, poor man

Taken advantage of by his own Goddess, thinking that that is the best he would ever be able to do

Then when you come along, it all changed

His thoughts about himself seem to change, his standards seem to change, his love seems to change

He cares so much about you, he cannot help but think he is not worthy

That a cursed, unfaithful man as himself could never even breathe the same air as you

But all of his doubts and worries seem to melt away when you two hold one another underneath the stars

Your fingers lovingly combing through his hair as he rambles on about something he is passionate about

Wether it be a book, his expertise in magic, or Tara (lmao)

Others would shove him off as a show-off, annoying, etc

But you are so willing to hear him go on and on, that he can’t help but love you

His index finger instinctively draws shapes into your back when you hold each other

When he’s cuddled up with you, his worries that today might be his last don’t even cross his mind

He’s more worried about you, how you feel, if you’re comfortable

He doesn’t care if tonight is the last night he shall ever see you

He’d rather die tomorrow than live for an eternity never knowing you

Lae’Zel:

“Chk..I do not take part in worthless acts of intimacy.”

Lae’Zel is not much of a ‘cuddles’ person

Like at all…

She’d rather feel the thrill of battle with you, bathing in the blood of your enemies

Her way of loving is slaughtering anyone who even just looks at you the wrong way

But, if you’re particularly lucky, or especially down

She can’t help but..pity you

In her mind, it’s such a disgusting feeling. This ‘love’ makes her weak, but she cannot run from it no matter how much she tries

The most touch you’ll get from her will only occur in private

A hand perched protectively on your hip or waist

Her head slumped on your shoulder when you’re on watch for the night

acts like this, although small

It means so,so much from her

And she’ll kill you if you go telling Shadowheart about how ‘sweet’ she was being last night

Shadowheart:

“My love…ugh. I’m still not used to calling someone that.”

Shadowheart is lost when it comes to you

Not only is she horribly confused that you of all people would love her

She’s confused as to how she’s supposed to love you

Her entire life, for what she can remember, she’s never been shown comfort or remorse

If she did something wrong, she was punished

She doesn’t remember a single moment in her life when she was loved the way you love her

And although grateful, she feels unworthy

Hugs are common with her, of course in private, but common nonetheless

When she hold you in her arms, the pads of her fingers massage your back lovingly, worried if she lets go, you’ll flee

Let! Her! Play! With! Your! Hair! 🙏🏻

And please play with hers omg

At night, she’ll let her hair down and allow your hands to explore her long, black (or white) locks

Your touch sends shivers down her spine, a feeling she’s not used to, but craves so much

She truly hopes that you’ll never leave her, for now that she has tasted your touch,

She never wants that sensation to leave

Thanks for reading!

1K notes · View notes

sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.

Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.

Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.

A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all <3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!

divider by firefly-graphics

August 1981

"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."

You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing.

"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."

He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard.

"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."

"I'll help you with your work," you say.

Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted.

"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."

Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it.

"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."

"You think?"

You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again.

"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks.

The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."

You shove Steve's shoulder lightly.

"You are not dumb, Steve."

One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.

He had made you swear not to tell anyone.

"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."

His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you.

"Tommy says I am."

"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."

You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you.

“Promise?” he asks.

“Yes, Steve. I promise.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.”

You nod and lay back on the floaty.

“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks.

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

Now. (January, 1987)

You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you.

Whoops. Right. You're still at work.

You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing.

You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink.

And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it?

Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar.

“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”

Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”

“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.

“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."

The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.

“Who’s gonna make me? You?”

You lean against the side of the game, considering.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he says.

You snort.

“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”

He glances at you.

“So?”

“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.”

You wink at Dustin. He beams.

“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add.

The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently.

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”

Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway.

You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight.

“You’re awesome, Y/N!"

You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”

Dustin sours.

“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?”

“No way!"

He shakes his head.

“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”

You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot.

“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again."

You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young.

Dustin shrugs, starting the game.

“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”

“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”

“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”

“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."

You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town.

"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."

"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."

"Would I now?"

"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered."

"Wow. Impressive."

"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”

“You would?”

The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.

“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”

“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."

“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”

Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.

“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."

"'Kay!"

Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family.

"Who do I ask for?"

"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"

"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"

"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."

Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck.

The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.

"Can I help who's next?"

You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!

"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says.

"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?"

You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler.

She nods in realization.

"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."

You wince.

"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"

Her brows raise. She smiles a bit.

"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"

"Pretty in Pink," you say.

"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"

"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."

She grins.

"Me too. She's pretty."

"Super pretty," you agree.

The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand.

"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."

You take her hand. "Y/N.”

"Did you go to Hawkins High?"

"I did. Graduated last year."

"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"

You nod.

"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."

"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"

"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."

You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest.

"How come?" she asks.

"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."

Robin smiles sympathetically.

"They're jerks," she says.

You huff. "Yeah."

You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore.

Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans.

"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."

"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from.

She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass.

You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on.

The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures.

"Have you been waiting long?"

You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter.

Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font.

He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles.

"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."

You blink.

"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye.

"No," you manage.

"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?"

He doesn't remember you.

You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.

And he doesn't remember you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.

You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve.

"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."

"I have to go," you say.

You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin.

Her brows rise.

"Oh. Is everything—"

"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."

"That's okay, we can just—"

You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away.

Only there do you stop to catch your breath.

And then you cry.

February 1982

"What do you think about Marie?"

You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table.

"Marie Iverson?" you ask.

"Yeah."

Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it.

"I don't know. I don't know her that well."

"She's cute."

"I guess so," you say.

It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—

"I was thinking of asking her out."

The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase.

"Shit, here. Take mine."

Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."

"Sure. So what do you think?"

"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."

"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."

Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before.

"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now.

"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."

Steve deflates.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

You sigh and rub your temple.

"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."

"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."

Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?"

"Writing?"

"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."

"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."

He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention.

"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."

Steve laughs, nose scrunched.

"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."

"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words."

"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"

"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."

Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."

Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.

You shuffle your papers into a stack.

"Can we study now?" you ask.

"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."

He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.

"Lemme take you out," he says.

You nearly swallow your tongue.

"Wh–what?"

"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."

Steve beams. "I'll drive you."

Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do.

You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair.

Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back.

"Just us?" you check.

You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together.

"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?"

You check your watch and close your book.

"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later."

Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.)

"Please," he says. "For helping me."

Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."

Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends.

"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."

You perk up at that. "Really?"

"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?"

"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."

And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.

Now

You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs.

"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."

You might have overshot the perks, though.

Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses.

"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."

She shoots you a mean look.

"I'm complaining to the manager."

You paste on a smile.

"You do that. Have a nice day."

She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation.

Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.

Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always.

You lean your elbows on the countertop.

"What'll it be, gang?"

"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."

You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes.

"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.

"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."

Dustin accepts this with no argument.

"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."

You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that.

He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking.

"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say.

"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?"

Lucas nods.

"Yup. They're both parents."

You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey.

"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."

"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."

"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"

Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you.

"What?"

"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains.

"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."

"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."

"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone.

Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie.

"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."

"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort.

"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared.

"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."

"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector."

Dustin nods eagerly.

You blink. "He protects you guys?"

Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly.

"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."

"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."

"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."

"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that.

"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."

"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."

"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?"

Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."

"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”

“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.

“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”

You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change.

When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty.

"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"

"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."

"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"

"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."

"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.

"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business."

"And why can't your babysitter take you?"

You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional.

"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."

Now that sounds like the Steve you knew.

"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."

"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."

“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.

You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.

“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”

“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.

“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”

You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”

Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”

You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”

“Byeeee!”

They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.

March 1983

“Okay, but if you had to choose.”

“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”

Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”

“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”

“Exactly! My birthday.”

He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.

“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”

“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”

“I keep telling you you need glasses.”

“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”

He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool.

“Shit,” he says.

You belly laugh in delight.

“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”

“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”

"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."

You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy.

The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy.

“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”

"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.

“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”

“‘S cold.”

“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”

He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.

“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.

“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason.

“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”

“Can’t believe no one else came.”

You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.

“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”

You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.

“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.

“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”

“I listen.”

Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.

“God, I miss you,” he says.

You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little.

“I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”

Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.

“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”

“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”

“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.

“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”

You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.

“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”

“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”

Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”

His laugh is warm in your neck.

You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.

Now

“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”

“Game plan?” El asks quietly.

“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”

She stares at Lucas.

“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”

“Right.”

“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”

You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”

“Or a total disaster,” Max says.

You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”

The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.

“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”

Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”

“Uh-huh.”

The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning.

“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area.

You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share.

“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”

Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”

He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.

“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.

“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”

“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”

“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”

He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”

“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.

“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”

“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”

Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.

“Harrington, man, what’s up!”

Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”

Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.

“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm.

“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.

“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”

America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying.

“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded.

You feel a burst of pride.

Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.

“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”

“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”

No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror.

“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”

Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.

Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”

Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.

“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”

He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.

“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”

The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket.

“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”

“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”

Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.

“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”

She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”

“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”

Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”

You’re suddenly exhausted.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”

“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”

“I didn’t want it that much.”

“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”

“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”

“Y/N—”

“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”

Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it.

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”

“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”

“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”

Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.

So you run. Again.

You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting.

You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?

So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.

Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.

Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.

"Slushie?"

She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"

You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"

"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"

Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth.

You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese.

"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.

Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"

"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?"

Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too.

"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava.

"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"

"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."

Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none.

"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."

You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head.

"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."

Robin smiles a sad smile.

"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."

The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?

"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."

"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."

"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble.

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."

You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.

"If you two are—"

"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met."

"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."

Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."

You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot.

"This town is so shit," you say.

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."

"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."

Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."

"I can sometimes be an asshole."

"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?"

You laugh. "We'll get jackets."

"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle.

You look at the tape in your hand.

"Does Steve like John Hughes?"

"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."

He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved.

"I did want to watch this one," you say.

"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises.

You suppose not.

December 1984

You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.

Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on.

Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap.

Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.

You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't.

A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself.

You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.

Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been.

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."

There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie.

It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.

Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not.

Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy.

Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life.

No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.

You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault.

But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him.

You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital.

Now (And Forever)

The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.

It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.

The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it.

Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.

That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.

I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.

You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.

I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.

Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you.

I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck.

But I miss you. I always have.

Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.

I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships.

Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that.

It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.

I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it.

I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.

You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.

Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.

Sincer

Your friend,

Steve

You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand.

You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.

It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.

There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.

You knock on the door three times. And wait.

Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.

The door swings open.

Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine.

“I got your letter,” you say.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you.

“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”

Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”

His brows knit. “What?”

“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”

“Like a friend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask.

“Always.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”

You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—

“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you confess.

Steve nods against your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”

“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.

“Hmm?”

You pull back to look at Steve.

“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”

“We found each other again.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #friends to strangers to lovers

6K notes · View notes

calisources · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

Sentences were taken from different sources of literature that depict dark romance, these include possessive language, jealousy, power trips, some kinks, innuendos. Some sentences are tamer than others, please use wisely. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit. This meme is not safe for all audiences, as it contains adult themes.

Cara is mine, and only mine.

You didn’t seem to be in any danger when you were being my good, little girl.

A crush? I had consumed at least three of that woman’s bodily fluids, as she had mine.

I worship you.

Very, very bad girl.

So you admit it, I make you scream.

See, my sweet gift? I knew you’d f/cking come around.

My beautiful, sweet gift. I am forever lost in you.

Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.

I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this.

In this fucked up world of ours, we're meant for each other.

I may have broken you, but know that you've broken me just the same.

Let me free you of the constraints of virtue. Better yet, free yourself.

You're supposedly protected by god, but here you are fucking the devil.

Like this you are powerful. Learn what it is to command the attention of a god.

I need you to take me the way you want me.

I hope you never forget about me and that the thought of me haunts you for eternity.

I was born to be your god, born with the power to make you do what I want.

You've captivated my soul and breathe life into me.

No escaping. I told you I'd never let you go.

I am a poison that all of humanity must fear.

You ruined me and I can’t be bothered about it.

I forgot how good you taste.

Real men get their girls nice and ready first.

This girl. She’s living, walking art. And she’s mine.

Do you want me on my knees?

You’re a bad man and you do bad things. You will always do bad things. But not to me.

You are painfully beautiful, do you know that?

Every time you look at me, it feels as if you start a wildfire inside my heart

Such a perfect girl you are, put on this world just for me.

I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.

You forgot I was a siren.

I just wanted to keep you forever.

I have missed you for so long. And now you are in front of me, but you’re afraid to touch me.

There can never be anything in the world that would hurt me more than when you left me.

I don’t know if I want to cry or if I want to scream or if I want to fucking kiss you.

Christ, I wish you could see yourself. You look otherworldly.

I used to smell your dirty shirts when you weren’t looking.

In order for me to fuck you, I’m going to need you to be healed first.

How I’ve missed that filthy mouth.

What else did I teach you?

You taught me how to be a good girl for you.

How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.

I'm a simple man who's been reduced to his base instincts to hunt, capture, keep.

If she is my devil, then I will gladly burn.

If you don’t protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else.

The power he holds over me―

You like to be owned by me? Knowing that I will kill anyone that ever tries to steal you away?

You want passion. A love that completely devours every inch of you.

I know that you long for a little danger, too. I saw how you thrived on it.

It only hurts because I want you so much.

if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you.

You taste like sin.

You're doing so good, Handsome.

No one touches what's mine.

And you are mine. Whether you agree is irrelevant.

I caught you, so now I get to ravish you.

Let’s do something about that mouth of yours, hm?

Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.

I want you to know that you can’t hide from me.

Play nicely, little lamb. Or else, I won’t.

I will do with you as I please.

Show me how much you want me.

You haven’t been getting what you need, have you?

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul.

Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet.

The flesh wants what it wants.

If you continue to behave like this, I'll actually start to believe you don't hate me.

Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes Power.

And I will break you. I will make it so you can't breathe without me.

What happened to the thrill of the chase?

I just like the way wrong feels.

I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.

I need to hear a yes, sir.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

447 notes · View notes

sinofwriting · 10 months

Text

listen, please - Daniel Ricciardo

Words: 316 Summary: Daniel and his girlfriend break the news of their relationship and cause quite a splash with their age difference. (Social Media AU + Blurb) (Olivia Rodrigo as faceclaim and uses her music for reader’s)

Taglist | Masterlist | listen, please verse

yourusername

liked by dan_nigro, etnews, landonorris, and 548,752 others tagged: danielricciardo yourusername: I learned from my mistakes and finally listened to them. And thank god they were right about you.

view all comments

danielricciardo: forever happy they were ⤷ yourusername: ♥️ user01: excuse me??? user02: Uh what? user03: I’m sorry, Daniel??? What are you doing here??? user04: When did this happen? user05: honey, no. he’s in his 30s user06: well, already counting the days for this ending user07: this is going to last all of a month user08: yourusername please, no. Taylor went through this already. Learn from her mistakes!!! user09: Am I the only one picking up on the lyrics from Vampire? We stan using our own lyrics to announce a relationship user10: can’t wait for Dear John yourusername’s version. Gonna be a bop. ⤷ user05: I will sob if she covers that or would’ve could’ve should’ve when this ends. ⤷ user11: will simply die user12: i’m an f1 girlie, but no. This ain’t it. Mick Schumacher is right there, yourusername. Or even Oscar. ⤷ user13: Lando is right there and you went for the nepo baby and a guy who already has a girlfriend ⤷ user12: he was an example! And nearly all the drivers are nepo babies in some way. ⤷ user03: so true user14: how are you going to be such a big swiftie, know the woman yourself and still date a man older than you and believe it’s going to work out?

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, f1_wags, redbullracing, and 149,875 others tagged: yourusername danielricciardo: Over a year with this one and many more to come, Sweets

view all comments

yourusername: so many more to come ⤷ danielricciardo: 😉 maxverstappen1: never seen you happier ⤷ danielricciardo: love ya maxie! user01: first daniel isn’t racing and now he’s taken??? 2023 is the worst user02: daniel, she’s practically a child. What are you doing? user03: weirdo user04: she’s barely 20, what are you doing??? ⤷ user06: yourusername is 22. She’s not barely 20 ⤷ user04: yeah and she turned 22 like barely a month ago user05: Daniel, not like this. I beg user07: well him and pierre have something in common 😆 user08: she’s a baby!!! Get away from her!!! user09: disgusting. Absolutely disgusting user10: you guys are acting like she’s not an adult??? She’s literally in her twenties. ⤷ user04: and he’s in thirties. It’s fucking weird. user11: jail, sir. You go to jail now.

f1_wags

liked by user01, user02, user03, and 2,451 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo f1_wags: New WAG Alert! Daniel Ricciardo just announced his relationship with Y/N, a three time grammy winner and musician.

comments are disabled

yourusername

liked by dr3wines, zedd, charlesleclerc, and 462,345 others tagged: danielricciardo, dr3wines yourusername: Congrats on the new wine, Danny! Little sad that it will no longer be for just us and our baths together, but happy to see it be shared.

view all comments

danielricciardo: thank ya, sweets. danielricciardo: girl in the second picture is absolutely gorgeous danielricciardo: bath tonight? I’ve still got a few bottles ⤷ yourusername: I’ll always want a bath with you user01: why is his face on my feed user02: throwing up at their comments user03: well, this made me feel incredibly single charlesleclerc: another great wine. Thank you for convincing him to let me try it before the launch! ⤷ yourusername: of course!

user04: leave him!!!! He’s using you for free promo of his wine!!! user05: taylor must be pissed!

taylorswift

liked by yelyahwilliams, taylorlautner, yourusername and 2,873,421 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo taylorswift: Was a pleasant surprise to see these two when I stepped off stage tonight. Lovely to see you guys and will see you again for dinner next week!

view all comments

yourusername: not a single better performer. Watching is you magic every single time. And dinner will be fun! danielricciardo: amazing show! user01: taylor??? user02: i’m sorry what user03: my 2023 bingo card is in shambles user04: living rn. all of you fuckers were saying that taylor was disappointed and now look. She knew before we did user05: some many clowns staying silent in these comments user06: i was at this show!!! Wyd mean that yourusername was there?

daniel3.jpg

liked by landonorris, f1_wags, sourandguts, and 187,392 others tagged: yourusername daniel3.jpg: my two favorite subjects: you and us

view all comments

landonorris: do you two do anything but take baths for date night? ⤷ daniel3.jpg: we do. Just like our baths y’know user01: um, i’m sorry. But that last photo user02: lando is so real. This is the second bath photo we’ve gotten ⤷ user03: i don’t want that water bill user04: gross user05: how do you feel comfortable posting this with how young she is? ⤷ user01: you’re acting like she’s a kid. She’s in her twenties. Fuck off user06: am i supposed to just act like i don’t know now that daniel likes car sex??? ⤷ user03: i’m doing my best to not think about it user07: daniel, thank you for feeding us.

—

Daniel could feel his grin grow, eyes softening, and his shoulders loosening all at the sound of her name. It takes him a moment to register the question, but when he does his grin grows more.

“I wasn’t really expecting it, you know? But she’s just great, I mean absolutely fantastic.” “And the age difference isn’t an issue?” The reporter presses, though more gently than expected. He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, not all. We want the same things in life and we both have very similar timelines for when we want them. We talked about all of that before we even went on a date and us wanting the same things, just helped finally take the next step.”

“And has the backlash affected you two at all?” “No.” Daniel smiles at the confused look the reporter gives him, letting out a chuckle. “We knew it was going to cause a splash. We’ve never ignored the age difference between us. It’s there and ignoring it wouldn’t do anything.” He pauses, “I understand why people are so concerned, there is a history of large age gaps not being great. But there’s also a history of them working out great, I’ve got plenty of examples in my personal life. Besides, it's not really the age difference that matters, it’s where you're at in life and what you want to come next. We just happen to be in the same place and want the same things to come next.”

The reporter is looking at him stunned before they finally manage to find their voice. “Thank you, Daniel.” “Of course, cheers mate.” He winks, before throwing up a hand to wave at the camera before he jogs off, already knowing that he’ll have a text or two from her calling him a sap over his lovesick grin. And he’d hate to not see them as soon as they came in.

#daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smau #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #been ages since ive done an smau hope its good #listen please verse #<- using that tag because i'm going to be writing so much more in this verse #so if anyone has any thoughts or questions send them in #would love to talk about it

1K notes · View notes

justlemmeadoreyou · 4 months

Text

breeding kink-blurb*

Summary: The one by @harrysonlylover had me dizzy so I couldn't help but write this

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: breeding kink (duh), name calling, degradation, creampie, cum-play, use of a plug

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

Maybe it was the way he had seen you with the children on Christmas. Or maybe it was the way one of them accidentally called you mama, and you almost cried with happiness.

Either way, he was a man on a mission.

Ever since you got home, he wasn't the talkative self he regularly is. Rather, he was quite quiet, thinking, pondering over something with his lower lip between his fingers.

"You know, I've been thinking" he said, while you were doing your nightime routine. You were applying lotion on your hands when he spoke up, and your gazes met in the mirror.

"Yeah?"

"Let's have a baby"

It caught you off guard, hands stopping working immediately. Your eyes widened, lips parting open as you stared at him through the mirror. His expression was contrary to yours, looking so serious, and like a man on a mission.

"A baby?"

"Yeah. It'll be good. I'm home for a longer time now, and till the time you get pregnant, I'll draw up a plan with my team so I can stay at home as much as possible. For the next few years, at least."

Your heart somersaulted in your chest at his words. Your husband, the man who lived for singing in front of millions of people, was willing to take a few steps back to make a family with you.

With you.

You nodded after a few seconds, already closing the bottle and keeping it away. You had been together for a while, and money wasn't a aproblem. You worked from home too, and it was the perfect oppourtunity.

For him to breed you.

"Yeah?" he asked again, and you replied, "Yeah. It's a good idea."

You climbed on the bed, sitting beside him and pulling the duvet over your bodies. He was already half naked, his chest bare with his cross necklace lying between his pecs.

"Hm. Thought so. Saw you today with those children. And when that one called you mama-" he was cut off by a slap to his shoulder, and your cheeks turned red as you blushed.

"I couldn't help it, okay? She was so sweet-and called me mama-" you fonded over the memory, "I didn't pick her up and bring her home with me to keep forever. You should be thankful for that" you said, and he grabbed the back of your neck, his lips coming towards yours.

"Oh I am. And I'll be thankful for the baby you're going to give me too"

His hands grabbed your waist, getting a firm grip before pulling your body down, flat on the bed. He breaks away from the kiss, your foreheads touching as his hands fumble with the string of your sweatpants. He pulls them down hastily, along with your panties. Your hands grab at his hair, lifting your hips up as they make contact with his throbbing, leaking tip. You wince as he thrusts forward, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Patience, love. Gonna give it to you good, yeah?" he promises and pulls his pants and boxers down. He's throbbing as he grips himself, his rings making contact with his hard length, making him groan.

"Fuck, got me so hard just by thinking of breeding you. Cum inside you and push it in, again and again, till it catches"

He lines it up with your slit, and you wrap your legs around his slim waist. His tip pushes past your lips, your pussy opening up to take him in. He slowly pushes in with a low groan, eyes shut in ecstasy.

"Fuck, so tight. My little breeding slut, aren'ya? Jesus, can't wait to see you full of my babies"

He pushes into the hilt, and you can feel him in your stomach. Slow, deep, so fucking deep thrusts that make you feel like he is rearranging your guts.

"So deep-so fucking deep, Har-" you grip his hips, a firm one, and he grabs your hands, pinning them above you as he fucks you with reckless abandon. His angry tip pushes its way in again and again, kissing the back of your cervix with each thrust. Your toes curl as you get wetter and wetter around his prick, his cock soaked in your essence.

"Dirty girl. Roaming around wanting a baby. Could've just told me" he grips the column of your throat, mind shutting down as he squeezes lightly.

"One word and you could've had my cum in your pretty pussy every day till I knocked you up" his words rang in your ear, tears forming at your eyes, from how fucking good it felt.

He pulls back, making you wince and you look up at him with blown-out eyes, your legs open wide. He grabs the back of your knees, pushing your legs together and towards your chest, and you hold them there as he gets you in position to go even deeper as if he wasn't balls-deep already.

Grabbing your breasts through the thin shirt, he holds them as leverage as he pushes back in, going so fucking deep this time, tears fall down your cheeks. The angle is so perfect-his cock reaching places that have your mind going fuzzy.

"S'too deep-Harry-"

"Shh," he brings one hand to your lips, pushing one finger in and making you suck on it, "keep that pretty mouth shut, yeah? Let daddy fill you up"

You nod like a dumb puppy, letting him use you however he wants. Your moans, whimpers, and cries of his name fill the room as he fucks you relentlessly. Tears staining your cheeks and your wetness staining his cock and balls, it has never felt this good.

"Harry-har-I'm close" you pant, and his hands come to your swollen clit. He strikes it without remorse, making you jolt and his cock to twitch. You cry out as you cum instantly, squirting all over him.

There's wetness everywhere-the amount making his eyes go wide as his cock twitches, and he begins to leak inside you.

There's so much of it-his cum as well as yours. He fills your pussy up, angling your hips above so it doesn't escape, as he cums inside you, filling you up with his seed.

His thrusts don't stop throughout. Just slow down, keeping his promise of fucking his cum into you.

He slows down after a while, bringing a hand up to wipe tears off your cheeks. He pulls out eventually, the amount of wetness surrounding his cock keeping it impossible to keep himself in.

His fingers come to your lips, scooping up the cum that's trying to escape. He uses two ring-clad fingers and pushes it back in, making you whimper from oversimulation.

"Hold it in, yeah? I'll go and get a plug"

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! you can tip me here

please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺

taglist: @freedomfireflies@gurugirl@thechaoticjoy@styleslover-1994@gem1712@ellaorchard@bxbyysstuff@opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli@tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@drewrry@babyiamperfectforyou@me-undiscovered @tbsloneely@whoreonmondays@kathb59@avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge@mypolicemanharryyy@theendx888 @ladscarlett @whotfisade@youcan-nolonger-run@prettythingsworld @chesthairrry @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran

573 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 6 months

Text

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xv

✧.* adjusting to your new lifestyle has never been easier with lando by your side

✧.* just something peaceful and sweet after the last chapter 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 761,542 others

y/nusername summer break(ing bones) ☀

tagged: landonorris

views all 1,012 comments

norry4 well at least you can joke about it 😭

carlandooo good to see you're doing okay! <3

hamilt44n love that the color of your cast matches with your nails 😂

y/nlandooo so happy to see you're doing great and are spending time with your family!

bott_ass please I'm so happy to see you living your farm life again, it's been too long since we got to see the animals 😭

sharl16 I can't explain it but the duck and y/n have the same vibe

landonorris who's that handsome guy?

y/nusername Mickey 🐴

landonorris I wasn't talking about the horse

y/nusername well I am..

norrizz pls get married, have babies, grow old together, stay together forever 😭😭😭

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 699,561 others

y/nusername with the man of the house 🐱

view all 999 comments

yukisan wish I could spend all day in bed..

hamilt44n girl we don't get to see what she does all day and so what, give her a break 💀

norrizz my girl is chilling like she should!

maxmaxmax oh to be an animal in y/n's household :(

landonorris that should be me in your bed

y/nusername shouldn't have fled the country then

landonorris someone's gotta make a living..

landoscar girl it's in the middle of summer why you cuddled up in thick blankets 😭

norry4 man of the house? Lando has left the chat 😂

grussell63 something tells me lando doesn't have a say in this house 😂

landonorris you're right

grussell63 im sorry 😭😭

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by cecilemoulin, maxfewtrell and 701,761 others

y/nusername 🧜🏻‍♀️

tagged: landonorris, cecilemoulin, maxfewtrell

view all 1,111 comments

maxmaxmax now who's idea was it to have a boat day knowing damn well y/n can't go in the water with her cast 😭

fewtrelllando the besties back together once again 🥰

julieeeexo couldn't they find something else to do..idk, something that can be done with a cast lmfao

y/nusername it was my idea and I did dip my feet in the water, that was enough to cool me down 😉

norry4 don't know why y'all are freaking out, let them do their thing

cecilemoulin great great great great great day ❤️

maxfewtrell did you have a great day?

bott_ass good to see y'all back together, I was getting worried 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig @for-our-moony @sadg3 @gaslysainz @goldenharrysworld @okqur @baw-sixteen @dark-night-sky-99

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05

-> tags further in the comments

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 x reader

785 notes · View notes

thepersonnamedsam · 9 months

Text

where’d all the time go? - dr3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: a little look back in time and into the future

face claim: heidi berger

warnings: none

note: hiya, i’m back (at least for now)! this was inspired by the song where’d all the time go by dr. dog :)

masterlist / taglist

yninsta

liked by danielricciardo, user and 38‘738 others

yninsta where’d all the time go?

view all 19‘627 comments

danielricciardo my beautiful baby

danielricciardo look at you, you were always cute

danielricciardo i love you so much

user1 he’s so whipped

user2 we love a whipped man

user3 give him some cream so he can be whipped cream

user4 wow, y/n, you are so pretty

yninsta thank u so much

user5 danny is a lucky man

danielricciardo indeed i am

yninsta aww baby

danielricciardo i am the luckiest with you

danielricciardo

liked by yninsta, sebastianvettel and 927‘188 others

danielricciardo where’d all the time go? bc she’s my wife now rather than my racing partner…

view all 672‘910 comments

user6 omg danny u can’t drop that bomb rn!!!!!!

user6 i was not prepared to go to heaven today

user7 wtf happened?

user8 when did that happens?!;!;!:

user9 in june apparently

yninsta i am so lucky to call u my husband <3

danielricciardo mrs. ricciardo has a nice ring to it

yninsta yea and u gave me a pretty ring

sebastianvettel congrats you two, glad to have been invited!

user10 seb was invited!:‘bejdkdbfjd

user11 he better have been

maxverstappen1 my dream just vanished :(

maxverstappen1 i will never be mrs. ricciardo :(

user12 hahahaha max is too funny

yninsta soz max, can i make it up to u?

maxverstappen1 divorce him?

danielricciardo never.

user12 i cannot believe it, my fav boy got married

user13 yea and we didn’t even know about the engagement

user14 doesn’t matter, they won’t last anyways

user15 anyway(s) - there is no plural of anyway. if u hate do it at least grammatically correct

user16 slay. (and they will last forever)

charles_leclerc congratulations!!! so happy for you

daniel3.jpg

liked by pierregasly, yninsta and 87‘199 others

daniel3.jpg the polaroid camera latifi gifted me finally came to good use, thanks mate

view all 11‘927 comments

nicholaslatifi cheers mate

user17 i just know they had the most perfect wedding

user18 i want a man to love me like danny loves y/n… sigh

user19 he there sweetheart :)

user18 ew.

yninsta it was perfect

landonorris had the most perfect time, thank you, you muppets

yninsta we love u lando

danielricciardo ig we do, if wifey does…

yninsta be nice

landonorris yea, be nice and listen to your wife

yninsta and danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 672‘179 others

yninsta we had the most beautiful time, thank you to you all! lots of love

comments disabled

yninsta

liked by danielricciardo, user20 and 63‘826 others

yninsta where’d all the time go pt. 2

view all 46‘199 comments

user21 SHE GOT PREGNANT? TWICE? WHEN?

user22 that’s why she didn’t show up to the races, omg, she had whole kids!

user23 i hope they were whole…

user24 oop-

user25 he looks so happy

user26 so much better than at mclaren

user25 right?

landonorris when will i get uncle duties again?

yninsta soon

danielricciardo no you will not, they were so hyper last time you had them, idk what you did with them

landonorris they had pavlova, isn’t that a specialty of australia?

user27 it’s kiwi!!!!

landonorris doesn’t matter

liked by danielricciardo, yninsta and 1‘839‘636 others

f1 little throwback to @danielricciardo 's bachelor party with the whole grid

view all 738‘829 comments

user28 aww how sweet was that

user29 it’s really the whole grid :(

user30 even seb

user31 i think it was sebs last race even

user32 but their children seem at least 4 years old?!;

user33 maybe that’s why they married?

danielricciardo i look so bad :/

user34 nO TAKE THAT BACK

user35 look how happy they all are!

yninsta thank god they don’t have my bachelorette party pics…

f1 🤷🏻‍♀️

yninsta if u dare! i will sue u

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 insta au #insta au #daniel ricciardo instagram au #wedding #Spotify

599 notes · View notes

sykosugu · 19 days

Text

melodies of passion | three

♤ summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless yakuza boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. a gojo satoru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, death, illegal activities, sexual content, gang related content, use of weapons

♧ aw: suggestive content, swearing, gojo being insufferable,

♡ currently: ongoing - no update schedule

♤ taglist: open! just let me know

♢ wc: 3.1k

♧ carlile speaks: hello babies! my goodness it feels like it's been forever! I finished on the run and poured all of my attention into this guy. I hope you're all ready for the ride!

The box. The infamous box. Its contents?

“Gojo, wha–,” you’re speechless. How did he do it? Where did he? “--Is that what i think it is?”

“That depends,” he starts, a shit eating grin on his face, “do you think it’s a custom, handmade replica of the diamond and ruby necklace Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman?” He looks at you deviously, “Because that’s what it is.” You just stare at him in shock. “Oh, and it’s all yours.”

“Satoru,” you breathe; your voice full of disbelief and amazement.

“You–,” he smiles, “You just called me Satoru.” He’s beaming. His whiter than white smile is on full display; pearly whites shining bright enough to blind. He’s happy. Ecstatic.

“You deserved it,” you place a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a blush on his skin in your wake. “Would you help me put it on, please?”

“I would be honored,” he takes the necklace from the box. He hooks it together before placing a featherlight kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. The contact makes you shiver with anticipation. “Fits in like it was made just for you,” he smiles against your skin, his hands finding your hips, pulling you back into him as he speaks.

Turning in his hold, you place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Goj–Satoru. It’s beautiful,”

“You make it beautiful,” he comments, giving you another kiss before he opens your car door. Gojo helps you in, holding your hand as you sit down, minding the train on your dress.

“So, where are we going all dressed up?” you ask, as he takes his seat in the car.

“Ah, that would spoil the other surprise,” he grins from the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other is planted on your thigh.

You huff in response.

“Alright, brat,” he laughs, “It’s a business dinner, and some.. Live entertainment to follow.”

“Gojo..”

“What happened to Satoru?”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Depends,” he chuckles.

“Am I getting my Pretty Woman moment?” The hopeful glint in your voice makes him feel a sense of pride.

“For the record, you don’t need the dress and the whole shebang to have a Pretty Woman moment,” he looks over to you, your excited eyes look back in awe of the man next to you. He really is determined to give you everything you want in order to make you his. The amount of thought he’s put into everything really shows you how much he listens to everything you say, and it makes you feel things you can’t explain.

“You're in love with him, stupid,” Ellie's voice rings in your head. Shut. Up.

“You don't need all these sweet words and grand gestures to get what you want out of me either,” you say, placing your hand atop his on your thigh.

“I know, but I thoroughly enjoy seeing that smile of yours.”

Arriving at the dinner, Gojo opens your door as you’re met with flashing cameras. He’d warned you that there would be paparazzi here but you weren’t anticipating this level of insanity. But you probably should have, knowing Gojo’s status.

He stops for a few photos, requesting you stand with him for all of them. Gojo didn’t want you out of his sight. The paps shout questions of your identity, where you met, how long you’d been together, if you were pregnant, that one made you laugh, you had to admit. But the attention being on you was never what you wanted. It's why you never pursued the stage. It didn’t comfort you like it did your mother. The stage terrified you.

Making your way inside, there’s a sea of people dressed to the nines as they make pointless conversation amongst themselves. They all seem super interested in each other but you know better. Gojo had warned you ahead of time that these people don’t actually care about anything going on, it’s all for show. Who can donate the most money while keeping up appearances. Tonight was about the benefit of the city, meaning whoever donated the most money basically had the mayor at their mercy. Gojo had been the highest donor for the last decade. Not to say others hadn’t attempted to take the spot from him. But he could always handle it. Tonight was about celebrating Gojo. Most people were unhappy with a Yakuza having the upper hand in the city, but knowing if they said anything the funding would immediately stop.

“Satoru,” you mutter, eyes roaming the room before you.

“Hm?” his eyes follow yours, immediately understanding your apprehensive state.

“This is.. A lot of people.” your fingers clutch the sleeve of his jacket, holding his arm as close as possible.

“I’m here with you, Birdie,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the shell. “Just focus on me, yeah?”

You nod once, not letting up on your grip on his jacket as he led you further into the room, heading for your reserved table. Gojo pulls your chair out, then takes his seat next to you.

A little into the evening, a tall man with blonde hair approaches your table, a curt smile on his face as he speaks.

“Evening, Gojo. Who is this lovely specimen?” He asks.

“Nanami,” He grumbles in response. “This is Y/N.”

Gojo offers the man no other explanation in return. You can feel the shift in the air. So this was Nanami. He’d left before you’d arrived the last time his name was mentioned. He’d intrigued you for sure, not many people could sour Gojo’s mood that easily just by being present.

“Hello, sir, lovely to meet you,” you extend a gloved hand to the man standing near the table, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N what a lovely name, I’m Kento Nanami,” he takes your hand in his, offering you a kiss on the back of your hand. “Tell me, just what is a beauty like you doing with a man like Gojo?”

“She likes being with...the strongest,” Gojo answers for you, standing from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse us,” he holds his hand out for you to grab, “Dance with me?” he asks, diverting his full attention to you.

“Of course,” in your typical fashion, you still address Nanami as you’re pulled away. “It was nice meeting you,” you say, offering him a sweet smile; a silent apology. Gojo leads you to the dancefloor; placing the palm of one hand into the small of your back while holding the other one up for you to grab. Lacing your fingers together, he begins to sway.

Gojo spreads his fingers out across the surface of your lower back; each touch leaving a trail of heat “So that was Nanami?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “He has some nerve..”

“Hey,” you reach up, tilting his gaze down to you, “Just focus on me, yeah?” you mirror his earlier words back to him. His smile grows, but his worry does as well. Now Nanami knows Gojo has a weakness, and that weaknesses name. But he knows he can protect you. As much as you’ll let him anyway.

“How could I focus on anything else?” his gaze bores into yours, a sense of total adoration washes over you as you look into those crystalline blue eyes. You could see the whole future in them. Tables adorned with blue, black and gold. Roses fill your hands as you’re led down a petal covered aisle, looking ahead to Gojo at the end. I do’s and kisses are swapped. Hands exploring dips and curves. Slow, languid movements filling you to the brim. Sweet nothings whispered against sweat slicked skin. Small patters of tiny feet across tile floors. Those tiny feet carrying a matching tuft of white hair, blue eyes and a bundle of giggles as bigger feet follow behind..

“Birdie? Did I lose you?” Gojo chuckles, his voice snapping you back to reality.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry. I got stuck,” you mutter, letting go of his cheek. The thoughts are still burning in the back of your mind. Every thought seemed so real. Like it was a memory instead of a daydream.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, anticipating some sort of panicked response.

“Just..doing this,” leaves you in a whisper. You place your lips over his in a soft kiss; your hands find their way back up to cup his jaw, making him smile against your mouth. He hums in approval, his hands attempting to pull you as close to him as possible.

“I think you’re trying to seduce me in front of all of these people,” Gojo teases you as he pulls away. Your cheeks turn a soft pink at his words. “If you wanna go somewhere more private just let me know.”

“Stop it,” you whisper, taking back in the amount of people surrounding you. It feels as if every pair of eyes were following your every move. One pair of eyes was following your every move, and it wasn’t Gojo’s.

Nanami stood in the corner with his men as he watched, and waited.

Gojo led you back to the table as the dining portion of the evening was about to commence. A full meal entailing all of Gojo’s favorites, which had somehow turned into your favorites too. The night had been wonderful so far; the conversation flowed so freely it was as if you and Gojo had been together forever.

“Satoru,” place your hand on his thigh, leaning closer to him.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you say that,” Gojo says, turning to give you his attention.

“Think I’m ready,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you look up at him.

“Ready..?”

“Mhm. For this,” you motion between the two of you, “Us.”

You watch as his eyes get even brighter than they were. He looks to you for real confirmation. The smile plastered on your face was the answer he needed, and so he kisses you. “You’ve just made my entire life,” he groans before he kisses you again.

“Remember we’re not alone here,” you giggle as you pull away.

“Ask me if i care,” he tries chasing your lips with his, “You didn’t seem to care when we were at the beach yesterday.”

“We were in a somewhat secluded cabana, not an open table at the front of a great hall with hundreds of people watching, Satoru.”

“Ugh, I already know I’m gonna love when you say my name when you're mad.”

“You’re already so insufferable,” you huff, turning away from him.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He reaches to turn your chair back towards him, caging you in with his arms. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, eyes locked on to yours.

“I–I’m yours,” you whisper back, staring back into his eyes as he searches yours for any sign of apprehension.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you lean forward, sealing the deal with a kiss once again.

A voice booms throughout the space, startling you enough to pull away from the man before you. Gojo readjusts, as he pays attention to the announcer behind him.

“Good evening folks, thank you all for attending as we celebrate the continued support from our guest of honor, Mr. Satoru Gojo.”

Applause follows. Your eyes scan the room, finding Nanami staring right back at you from his spot on the edge of the room. You offer him another sweet smile before overting your attention back to the man at the front of the room.

“Gojo, come on up here,” the man speaks into the microphone.

“I’ll be right back,” Gojo assures you, offering you a quick kiss before taking his stand at the front of the room.

“Evening everybody. I’m thrilled to be back here for another year. Even more so this year,” he looks over to you. “Someone very special to me came with me this time, and I intend to make her my wife one day.”

The room fills with ooh’s and aww’s as Gojo pauses. “So, we all owe everything to her tonight, for making me the happiest man in the world. So if you would all join me in raising your glasses,” he starts, leaning down to grab his glass from your hold.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yell at him. He just offers you his devious smile in return.

“To my lovely Birdie, thank you for attending with me, and for making me incredibly ecstatic tonight,” he raises his glass a little higher. “To Birdie,”

“To Birdie,” the crowd rumbles behind you. An anxious smile spreads across your lips as you turn to see everyone staring at you. You stand, albeit reluctantly, and politely bow with a smile. The other tables erupt in applause, as Gojo pulls you to join him on the stage, his arm snaking around your waist. “We hope you enjoy the live entertainment in the concert hall for the evening, once you’re finished dining. The proceeds from tonight will be donated to the children's hospital. Have a great night, everybody.”

More applause fills the space as you exit the stage with Gojo, his hand firmly holding yours.

“What was that?” you ask through gritted teeth as you smile.

“Staking my claim, and also showing my appreciation for my lovely lady,” he smirks at you as you take your seats again at the table.

“I would appreciate not being the center of attention,” you huff, slapping his hand away from your thigh under the table.

“Now now, Birdie. You have been the center of attention all evening,” he slides his hand back up your thigh as he leans down near your ear. “I’ve just been too distracting for you to notice.”

“You are quite distracting.”

“So, should we go somewhere more private?”

“Mm, no. I want to see this live entertainment,” you remove his hand from your thigh again, taking a stand from your chair. Gojo stands with you, offering you his arm to grab as he leads you to the concert hall.

The live performer just so happened to be Rod Stewart. How that happened, Gojo swears he doesn’t know. But the devious glint in his eyes says otherwise.

He’s performing all of your favorites. The ones you’d sing with grandfather in the car on the way to the next city. And the ones Gojo likes you hear you sing along with.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips after kissing him.

“Anything for my lady.”

Gojo sits next to you, an arm around your waist as he studies you watching the performance below. He knows you wish you were able to do that like your mother did, but he also knows the thought of it terrifies you. He’ll make it his mission to help you face your fears if that's what you wanted from him. But if you’re okay with being on the sidelines as well, he’ll help you with that too. Anything you want, he’ll make it happen. He thinks tonight is the prime example of that.

After the performance, Gojo leads you to the car. Opting for Suguru to drive this time, he takes his seat next to you in the back.

“Did you enjoy the evening? Was it, quote unquote, fun enough for you?”

“Oh, god Satoru, that was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”

“I don't think I’ll ever tire of hearing you call me that,”

“Yeah?” you ask, sliding closer to him.

“Yeah.” he breathes out, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. He smiles into the kiss, letting you push your tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. Satoru lets you have your fun for a moment before he reminds you who's in charge. He reaches to his left, pressing a button on the door to close the window between the front and back seat. Gripping your waist, you’re brought onto his lap, knees on either side of his legs. The kiss deepens, your arms finding their way around his neck as his hands explore the expanse of your back.

“Satoru,” you whisper in his ear. You move your hands to tangle into his hair, earring a soft moan from his throat.

“Please, keep going,” he mutters, readjusting himself beneath you. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Satoru,” you bite down onto his earlobe. “Satoru,” you kiss just beneath his ear. Tilting his head to your will, every which way leaving your featherlight kisses along his throat, up and down the surface, whispering his name before every kiss. His breathing feels labored under your touch, his skin is ablaze.

“Birdie,” he groans.

“Hm?” You hum, going back to kissing along his throat.

“As much as I would love for this to continue right now, we’re at your apartment.”

“Come upstairs with me,” you kiss his lips.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning, otherwise I would,” he kisses you back. “How about you come to mine? Spend the night?”

“What are we gonna do?” you ask with the most innocent looking eyes you can manage.

“What do you think?” he teases, chasing your lips with his.

“Can I meet you there? So can I go to Encore in the morning?”

“Of course. I’ll leave Choso here with you,” Gojo reaches for his phone.

“No need. I’ll be right behind you, once I change. Promise,” you kiss the tip of his nose, climbing off of his lap.

Gojo exits the car, rounding to your side and opens your door for you. Helping you from the car, the man before you kisses you passionately, pulling your front against his, leaning into your touch. He’s absolutely devouring you on the sidewalk.

“Satoru,” you whisper, pulling away from him.

“Fuck, Biridie. Don’t you see what you do to me?”

“Mm, I could feel it too, big guy.” you tease him, smoothing down the front of your dress. “I’ll meet you at your place.”

“Okay,” he smiles down at you, offering you one more goodbye kiss.

“Keep my seat warm,” you wink at him before disappearing up the stairs of your apartment building.

Gojo’s trip home felt longer without you. He was counting down the minutes until he got to touch you again. Waiting for the moment you walked through the door to devour you.

“Sir, we have some..news.” Choso’s voice makes Gojo turn towards the entrance of the living room.

“What is it, Choso? Has Y/N arrived?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“No, sir, it’s about Encore,” the double bunned man says flatly.

“What about Encore? Was there a break in?”

“No, Sir. it’s on fire.”

“What do you–where is Y/N?” Gojo asks, panicked.

“We–We can’t locate her, sir.”

♡ tags: @therealestpussyeater @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @semra4 @manyno @lostfracturess

@starlostwish @h0nestly-though @celestie0 @username23345 @lulunx

@sukunasdirtylaugh @wrenabbadon @bakuhoethotski @woundedfawn2002 @tbzzluvr

@artist1936 @new-weather47 @nanasukii28 @yungbloode @phoenix-eclipses

@deluluforcarlos55 @drakenswifeyy @gojocock @sh0jun @ironhottubstranger

@catobssessedlady

#satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo jjk #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x oc #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x oc

175 notes · View notes