#thank you to every single person who has been kind about this fic

[wheresarizona]

but I would die for you in secret

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.

To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.

Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.

So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.

Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.

If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.

You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.

There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.

It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.

Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.

That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.

It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.

Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.

Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.

The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.

The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.

And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.

It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.

For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”

“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.

There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.

“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.

You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.

“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.

“No-none,” you stammer.

His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”

His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.

His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.

Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”

Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.

Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.

“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”

The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”

“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.

“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”

He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.

It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.

He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.

The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.

You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”

His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.

Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.

“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.

“Yes.”

The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.

The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.

He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”

His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.

His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.

You’re so close; you’re just needing—

Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”

That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.

A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.

It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.

Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.

Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”

His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?

He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.

All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.

His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.

When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.

Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.

He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”

The question has your tight walls constricting around him.

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.

The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”

“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”

He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.

The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.

For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.

It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.

Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.

“Joel?” you break the silence.

“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.

“What are we?”

“Huh?”

“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”

His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.

“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.

You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”

His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”

“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”

“Well, there’s Ellie—”

“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”

“Yes.”

“So, you have feelings for me?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love me…?”

“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.

One word has your heart picking up in speed.

“I love you, too.”

His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”

A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.

“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”

His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”

Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”

He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.

This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.

“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”

His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.

“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”

“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”

He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”

Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.

“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”

“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”

His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”

Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”

“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.

“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”

“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.

You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”

“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.

“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”

“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”

“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”

You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.

“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.

“I do,” you reply.

“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.

“‘Cause no one else can?”

He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.

His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”

And something about that declaration thrills you.

“I’d like that.”

He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”

You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.

The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.

All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.

From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.

Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:

It was time for him to tell Ellie.

Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.

If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.

He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.

He hates that.

He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.

When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.

He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.

The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.

It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.

It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.

His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.

“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.

“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.

“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”

He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”

She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.

She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I asked you first.”

She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.

“I was at the same place you were.”

He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.

He meets her eyes. “And that is?”

She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”

“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”

“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.

“You done?”

“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”

His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”

“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”

“Were we really that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”

“What topic?”

“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”

He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”

She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”

“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”

His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”

“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”

“You’re what?!”

Masterlist

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #wheresarizona writes #joel miller x you #Joel miller/yo

[jj-one]

𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵. 🌠 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

── ♡︎ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ Jungkook x f!reader ˒˓ best friends to lovers au genre/tags: fluff, (some) angst, smut, a lot of this is narrated in jk’s perspective, mutual pining (they’re both so dumb and oblivious of each other’s feelings), oc really likes the color pink and girly thingss, it is implied that oc is much shorter than jk, mentions of periods, dry humping, fingering/finger sucking, spanking, piv, unprotected sex (are we surprised atp ?), slight dom!jk, lots of praising bc i’m a simp for that, creampiee words: sooo this was supposed to be only 2-3k words and when i was done it became 6.2k so yeah 😅

[ note ] the title of the fic is inspired by the song midnight fiction by illit ! it’s such a good song and was listening to it while writing most of this haha .

There was no exact ‘eureka’ moment for him that made him realize when he started falling for you, it just sort of …happened. He’s bottled these feelings inside for years, buried them so deep underground that there’s no way you could possibly detect his true infatuation for you. Jungkook was willing to keep this little secret to himself for as long as he lived, though tonight— he was seemingly ready to risk it all. His posture stilled atop of your canopy bed, silently watching as you step back into the dimly lit room, with only a pink towel clad around your torso. It should’ve been like any other normal day, simply going back to whatever else he was doing; but he couldn’t take his eyes off you for a second, not when you’re looking like this.

So pretty . . . . So perfect . . . Angelic . . .

His thoughts were scattered all over the place, none of them were making a lick of sense, but one thing he knew for certain was that you’re the most precious doll he’s ever seen. Almost every other girl he used to date (attempts at distracting himself of his feelings) were miles behind you, no one’s come nearly as close to having such a deep, long-lasting bond with him as he does with you. So he just gave up on dating overall, he’s been single for two and a half years now and is loving every bit of it. You on the other hand, you’re always jumping to the next relationship, never being single for more than a month or two, which is honestly insane to him but he gets it from the guy’s perspective— who wouldn’t want to date you?

He’s thought about telling you many times before, but it’s never been the right time. Though there really is no ‘perfect’ time to even confess something like that, he just doesn’t want it to be a situation where things can get misinterpreted. Jungkook’s the type of person that leaves no room for error in any of his plans, if there’s even a slight chance you might say no, he won’t risk the rejection. It’s better off to keep hopelessly chasing this dream he’s pictured so vividly in his mind, instead of having it all vanish once he reveals the truth. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, but it’s gotten progressively more difficult not to confront them every time he’s around you.

Maybe in another life you could be his girlfriend, somewhere in an alternate reality where you’re happily together and living in a fancy apartment as a beautiful couple. At least that’s what he hopes for.

You’re so pretty it physically hurts, only causing him more stress and inner turmoil from staring at you for so long. He wants to thank your parents for creating such a masterpiece, you really are everything he wants in a woman. If this were a cartoon his eyes would’ve been filled with nothing but hearts and practically jumping out from his sockets. It’s literal torture, internally fighting the urge of coming clean and the possibility of losing a 10+ year friendship with you was soon beginning to deem itself worth it; if that means he’s able to bury his face between your thighs at least once in his lifetime. He’s fantasized about having you like that in more ways he can count, this is kind of pathetic but… he’s secretly jealous of all the chairs you’ve ever sat on because that should be him instead! >:(

As you walk over to your wardrobe, which was neatly organized and arranged in order by color/pattern; mostly consisted of pink, florals, pastels, anddd more pink. You grab one of the t-shirts from your drawers that wasn’t your usual style, it was a black tee with a Stüssy logo on the side, looks awfully familiar to him… He thinks he’s about to have a heart attack once you finally slip the towel off your body, bearing it all in front of him— though you were wearing a cute set of undies. You pull the shirt over your head while slightly jumping up to shimmy into the garment, the way your cute tits would bounce as you did it made his cock involuntarily twitch. It really doesn’t make sense why he’s acting like a teenage boy going through puberty again, he’s seen you half naked before, many times actually. But for some reason right now, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off your figure, every part of you is a work of art, created by design to drive him into a further dilemma.

He is so royally fucked . . . .

That oversized t-shirt you put on had completely swallowed your frame, practically a dress on you. Jungkook finds it the most adorable when you wear clothes that are clearly too big for you— not to mention the juxtaposition of your outward femme appearance contrasting with the black makes him want to attack your face with kisses so badly. You two don’t have the most conventional relationship either, you cuddle up with each other almost every time you hang out, have made out on multiple occasions (albeit you both were drunk but still), and almost hooked up before in the past, but he’s completely sober now and all he can think about is what it’s like to have you on top of him at this very moment.

Jungkook really wishes he were sedated right now, just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse for his already deteriorating mental state. Now stood in front of your vanity, staring back at your reflection while placing some tiny star-shaped clips in your hair , you accidentally dropped one of them, making you bend over to scramble to find the small accessory. He really shouldn’t look but it’s so damn tempting, sneaking a peak underneath the hem of your shirt to get a glimpse of your cute butt— wishing his hands were spanking it ‘til it’s all bruised and red. The panties you wore were pink of course, trimmed with lace and a singular word embroidered on the back, ‘Sunday’. He was sure he knew everything about you, but this little newfound information that you own days of the week underwear is making him question all morality.

You’re fucking killing him . . .

Finally, you make your way over to the bed, using the step stool that’s put aside since your king-sized bed is far too high to climb on top of. Jungkook never has issues with that though since he’s a lot taller than you and is always helping you grab something from higher cabinets that you struggle to reach even whilst standing on your tippy toes. Crawling to your side of the bed, you still don’t say anything to him, just sitting with your knees facing up to your chin and holding one of the plush bunnies that adorned your cute set up.

The silence doesn’t bother him at all, he’s used to having days where the both of you don’t need to talk, just simply enjoying each other’s company was enough in itself. There wasn’t much awkwardness between you, even after those times you’ve kissed while drunk you two would continue on as if nothing ever happened. He knows there’s no way you feel remotely the same way he does, which is why he’s never brought up an issue with it— deep down though, he hates it. Hates that he’s only able to kiss you only when you’re intoxicated and not the in the right state of mind, hates that it hurts so much to keep being friends with you when he wants so much more… It just wasn’t fair in his eyes.

“Is that mine?” Jungkook ultimately decided to be the one to say something, a small inquiry about the shirt you chose to wear.

You giggled under your breath, “maybe, maybe not…” Never failing to provide him with vague answers, another reason why he gets so many mixed signals from you.

“It’s definitely mine, you’d never buy something like that.” He shoots back, calling your bluff almost immediately. There isn’t a single black item in your closet, unless it’s a design or a secondary color on something that’s mostly pink. Probably knows you better than you do by now.

Huffing at his response, still refusing to tell the truth, you combat his little remark. “You don’t know what I buy!”

Now it’s his turn to laugh, the fact you think he can’t see through your obvious act says it all. “Actually I do, you either shop at that brandy store, Victoria’s Secret, and your newest obsession: Liz Lisa.”

Well damn, he really does know you like the back of his hand. It’s almost scary how much knowledge he’s specifically retained of you over the years. Whenever he drops some random fact about you that you’ve only said maybe once or twice in passing never ceases to catch you by surprise still.

“Okay Mr. Keeps Tabs on Every Little Thing I do,” you tease him for the millionth time, always enjoying how fun it is. “I also thrift half my clothes too!”

He nods, “Right, how could I forget that… I still owe you a thrift and Boba date because I had to work that one time.” A sudden remembrance of you being all sad he couldn’t hang out with you two weeks ago made him want to desperately make it up to you.

You hummed in response, wrapping yourself in one of your cozy Sherpa blankets that decorated your bed sheets, fishing for your TV remote so you can finish watching some documentary on Netflix. Since you have a huge bed, there’s a lot of empty space between the you two of you, he felt like you were so far away from him, wanted to get closer. In order to get his way he usually resorts to whining about it, making you feel guilty and eventually giving in. It’s worked consistently for a decade now.

“Why’re you all the way over there? Can you come closer please?” Jungkook tries his best to ask nicely, hoping that you’ll let him cuddle with you tonight.

You shook your head, “Not right now Koo, sorry.” Going back to the screen in front of you, he feels slightly offended that you denied his polite request. Why were you being so moody all of a sudden?

“Really? You don’t wanna cuddle up next to me? Hmm fine… be that way then.” He wanted to act like he didn’t care but failed miserably, pouting as if he’s a child who’s about to throw a tantrum.

“Don’t give me that look, I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not working,” you weren’t falling for his continuous tricks, having seen them all by now. “Plus you smell like ciggies.”

“So? Not anything you aren’t already used to.” He shrugs, seeing that as an invalid reason for refusing his cuddles. “But if you want me to go shower real quick then I can?” If that means you’ll say yes then he’ll do whatever it takes at this point.

Normal friends usually don’t lay up in bed with each other as if they’re a couple, so this conversation is already a bit odd to begin with, but that’s just the dynamic of your relationship, and it’s been doing just fine for this long so why change it now? Some may not understand it but it’s not for everyone to get anyway, which is probably why none of his past relationships worked out because his exes always felt in competition with you. It seemed as if you came first before any of them, they never stood a chance up against you, he was always going to choose you as his number one companion.

You shift a bit under the blanket, sinking yourself into the memory foam mattress. “Nooo, I’m just teasin’ but I’m already so comfy in this position so it’s too late for cuddles nowww.”

“If you aren’t gonna come to me, then I’ll just go to you.” Jungkook’s tired of these games you’re playing with him, how you can act so hot and cold with him at times. One minute you’re all up under him and the next you want nothing to do with him.

He quickly moves beneath your pink covers to inch closer, wrapping his arms around you, not caring that you try and whine in a mini protest. This was all he’s ever wanted, just to feel you in his embrace for the night, getting a whiff of your strawberry milkshake body wash that he’s grown so attached to. Your skin feels so soft against the firmness of his chest, there’s no place he’d rather be than here with you right now.

“So… Jaehyun broke things off with me already,” you bring up out of nowhere, recanting your events from earlier. “He said its better off that we just stay “friends” or whatever the hell that means, feel stupid for even thinking I had a chance..” you sigh heavily. Yet another failed situationship that’s done nothing but waste your time, taking pity upon yourself for always falling for the wrong guys. The hopeless romantic in you can never see the blatant red flags that are shown right in front of your face.

“Wanna see the texts? Look,” you pull out the evidence, shoving the phone directly in his face so he can read the messages. He turns away from it though, frowning at the idea of why someone would want to mislead you in such a conniving way. You shouldn’t have to deal with these sorry, weak excuses of men when he can be all you need and more.

Jungkook never saw Jaehyun as the type to settle down anyway, he even told you that numerous times, but you’d dismiss it as him being too “overprotective” of you, which he was to some degree— but he just knows when something isn’t right.

“I’d rather not put myself in a bad mood for the rest of the night reading that dumb shit.” He declines on reading the messages but you don’t let him off the hook that easily.

“Ahh c’mon you’re no fun! ‘Kay fine, I’ll just read ‘em to you instead,” giving him no choice but to listen, you began reading in the worst deep voice you could, attempting to mock the way Jaehyun speaks. “Hi y/n, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out between us anymore, I’m a guy with needs so it’s only natural that I expect a lot of sex from you which you barely put out if I’m being honest. Things just aren’t as exciting as they were in the beginning and I’m starting to feel like—“

“I’ve heard enough, don’t wanna hear anymore.” He cuts you off mid sentence, uninterested in this whole fiasco.

You jut your bottom lip out, upset that you aren’t getting the support from your own best friend. He’s being a meanie for no reason, it’s so unlike him. “But I haven’t even got to the best part yet!”

“I said that’s enough.” Jungkook reinforces himself, coming off more serious than before.

“Ugh… whatever,” you roll your eyes in discontent, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “I was trying to make light of this situation ‘cause I didn’t want it to put a damper on my day… but it does hurt y’know? I’m always choosing the wrong ones.. I’ll never find a guy who truly loves me for me…” This sad revelation hit you harder than you thought it would, succumbing to the fact no one will ever treat you like the princess you desire to be.

“I’m right here y/n.” He tries to remind you of what this could be, but at the same time he knows you never take him seriously.

You giggle once again, “well duh, you’re supposed to love me Koo, you’re my best friend.”

Bingo. He was right, knowing you all to well, but he decides to test this theory out and push it even further.

“What if I told you I wanted to be more than just your best friend?”

You laugh so hard that a tiny snort came out, to which you became super embarrassed about, but Jungkook secretly loves when you do that because it’s so endearing. “Good one Koo, stop trying to make me laugh so much tonight! You’re on a roll.”

“I’m being dead serious, tired of you always thinkin’ this is some twisted joke.” He’s not finding any of this a laughing matter, and you shift in his hold to face him, looking in his eyes to catch any ounce of sincerity in them.

“Have you been drinking? Seriously, I won’t get mad but this isn’t funny anymore. You can cut it out now.” You’re tired of men playing with your emotions, it’s bad enough you’ve already had to deal with Jaehyun but now your best friend is acting really weird seemingly out of nowhere.

Jungkook went silent for a good minute, debating on how he should even answer, but the fact you think he has to be drunk in order to confess something as serious of a magnitude as this only makes him want to prove you even more wrong.

“First of all, no I’m as sober as can be. Second, do you think I find this funny? I may have a sick sense of humor sometimes but I wouldn’t go this low. I love you y/n, I can’t stress enough how much you mean to me. You’re all I think about, I can’t even look at other girls the way I look at you, there’s no comparison. It’s either you or nothing, I really don’t care about anyone else.”

You blink a few times to register all of what he’s saying, but it still doesn’t seem real to you. Even while he’s holding you close, looking at you with a straight face and candor of his actions with both your limbs tangled up in the sheets— it’s still not clicking for you. He can’t believe he just admitted to all of this out loud but truthfully, it’s like a heavy weights been lifted off his chest, finally freeing himself of this mental prison he’s locked hisself in for so many years. If you say no he’ll ultimately have to accept it, though he won’t let you go just yet.

A subconscious thought in your mind led you to do something you might regret later, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. Turning around completely so you can straddle his lap with your palms rested on top of his shoulders, your French tip manicure looks so pretty splayed against the dark, yet strikingly beautiful art on his skin. He’s always shirtless around you, it shouldn’t come as a shock to know that your best friend has a really nice body. Though you never paid much attention to it until now, fully taking in all his exquisite features, he’s honestly unreal. You had no idea what to do with yourself, how to go about this, so you froze up, staring at him innocently while batting your lashes. Jungkook thinks this might be the cutest he’s ever seen you, sitting on top of his lap in his t-shirt and gnawing on your bottom lip out of nervousness. You don’t even have to try to be adorable, it just flows naturally within you.

“Do you really mean that…” your voice became shakier as you spoke, feeling light headed all of a sudden, “please, don’t lie to me.”

He really wants to kiss you, wants to show you how much he means it instead of telling, he’ll wait just a bit longer, he’s got the whole night to prove why he’s been the one for you all along. A decade’s worth of yearning has all come down to this moment, it’s only fair that he relishes in it as much as he can.

“Cross my heart, y/n. Swear I’d never lie.” His fingers trail down the curves of your body, exploring the depths and contours of you. There was no reaction when he plays with the hem of your (his) shirt, fumbling with the fabric to slide his hands underneath, you just continue staring into his richly colored irises, a surge of white heat electrifies your insides.

What solicits you to react, is the next action he chose to do. Coming so close in contact with your face that your lips were merely centimeters from each other’s, his warm breath sent your spine tingling, internally begging for more. “Why do you date these assholes when I can give you everything you deserve?” He tilts his head as he asks, finally voicing how fed up he is with you and all your boy problems. You shouldn’t have to subject yourself to this kind of treatment, he’s going to make sure that you’ll never go through another disappointment again in life.

“You can?” Voice so low it was but a whisper, seeking the extra reassurance by answering his question with another question.

“Mhm..” he mumbles against you, bringing his attention elsewhere to hover his lips down your neck, every little thing he does feels like it’s running in slow motion, it’s almost unbearable. “And so much more baby…” you let out the most desperate moan when he finally pressed his lips onto your skin. Without even thinking, you began grinding your clothed core against the growing bulge in his sweatpants, eyes rolling back from the subtle pleasure and friction.

It feels so good. Too good to ever stop. You think you’re about to burst, these innate feelings you’re experiencing all at once are too intense. Your bodies clash together seamlessly, fitting into one another like a missing piece of a puzzle. Perfect symmetry.

He nibbles on the taut flesh of your neck, leaving faint love bites whilst planting a series of kisses. Sucking in a breath once both his hands reach up higher, cupping your boobs to caress them in each palm. You don’t think someone’s ever made you feel this amazing before, and it’s barely even started yet. To think this is what you’ve been missing all along makes you even more frustrated how you gone this whole time without doing anything. You can’t wait to have his cock in you by the end of this night, often daydreaming about getting fucked by him when you’re alone, even fingering yourself to the thought of him at times. Some may think it’s weird to masturbate at the thought of having sex with their best friend, but that was pretty much the only way you could get yourself to cum, it was so easy to reach your orgasm while thinking of Jungkook. That’s what you were almost achieving now, but you stop. The realization of something else hits you, causing you to still all movement.

You shake your head, condemning these actions. “No- we shouldn’t. We can’t do it right now…”

Jungkook looks back at you confused as ever, “Why? Everything okay?” It just doesn’t seem plausible for you to suddenly change this drastically, you had to be holding something back.

You went quiet, not really knowing how to answer but also wanting to be upfront and honest. “It’s just… I- I just got off my period yesterday…” you don’t understand why you’re so embarrassed to say that, it’s normal and almost every girl goes through it. All you want to do is hide your face in your hands, unable to face him anymore.

He appreciates your honesty but at the same time he couldn’t help but chuckle, finding your worries to be the least of his. That didn’t seem like a total dealbreaker in his eyes, besides, a little blood has never scared him anyway.

“Oh I see,” he nods at your concern, “guess I’ll just have to be extra gentle with you then?” He proposes with a lustful smirk, showing no sign of repulsion by anything you said.

You’re surprised he was still down to do this. Most guys you’ve encountered this type of situation with would be grossed out by it but he embraced it with opens arms right away. It didn’t matter to him because it’s you, he’s wanted this for far too long that he wasn’t going to let this tiny obstacle rain on his parade. He wants to fuck you in his t-shirt and have you moaning his name into the pillow all night, a reoccurring fantasy that’s kept him up for hours, fisting his cock at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole. Jungkook forces you to look at him by prying your hands away, replacing them with his to cup your chin. His lips crash with yours, making you immediately melt into his hold once again, a newfound confidence awakens in you, losing the uneasiness from before.

He tastes so good. Like cherry cola lip balm (you gifted it to him), a hint of tobacco and faint undertone of the minty gum he chewed earlier. His lips part open to gain further access into you, intertwining both tongues as his free hand lazily makes it way down to your ass. You find yourself grinding against him once more, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace. All the moans and whimpers you’re making in his mouth has him so utterly whipped for you, the only thing he craves is having your pussy stuffed so fucking full. Which he plans to do sooner or later.

There was only one time where you two had ended up in a similar situation as this, it happened about a year ago. You both had just come back from a party and were so inebriated that you weren’t thinking rationally. You resorted to trying to get yourself off by riding his thigh while sucking on his fingers, almost on the verge of cumming when Jungkook randomly decides to stop and protests any of this to continue. There was no weirdness after that, but it did make you wonder in the back of your mind why he abruptly changed like that. Now that same outcome still lingers in your thoughts.

“Are you gonna back out on me last minute like last time?” You bring up as a way to tease him as you pull away, still holding some minor doubts.

He shook his head with the utmost certainty, he’s fully sober in this situation so he can control this as much as he wants, and gets to remember every bit of it. “No. Not having any regrets tonight.”

Once those string of words left his lips, he doesn’t waste another second. Maneuvering you to lye down on your back, you’re making out with him yet again as he finds his way on top of you now. His long hair tickles the sides of your face, wanting to play with it and tangle your fingers all up in his fluffy locks. Your legs hook over his waist to cage him further into you, Jungkook groans at that, continuing to lightly grope you through your shirt that he refuses to take off.

You like that he took the ‘being gentle’ a bit too literal, but you do want him to be just a bit more aggressive with you. “I’m not some delicate flower Koo, I can handle whatever you give me.” Whining once again for him to be rougher with you, it’s the bratty sub in you that makes you want him to dominate your whole existence.

“But you are a delicate flower baby…” he lowly rasps in your ear, “my sweet, little delicate flower.” There was nothing but adoration behind those words, fully enamored and obsessed with all of you.

“If you didn’t want me going easy on you, you could’ve just said so.”

There was barely even time to register what he said before you cry out instantly when his palm strikes a deliberate spank to your ass cheek. You were so sure that’d leave a hand print, which is exactly what you hoped for anyway. So much pent up sexual frustration needs to be released, your lower regions practically aching for some stimulation. Your neediness only increases with time, turning into a certified mess just for him.

You couldn’t express much, only able to choke out one simple line, “Need you…”

“Where do you need me baby?” He inquires for more detail but you don’t have any idea, just can’t stand this tension anymore, you want him to touch you more than anything else in this world.

“A-anywhere… don’t care where.. just touch me Koo, please-“ you’re so desperate that it’s laughable, how you’ve become putty in his hands now, molding you in any way he wants.

“I’ll take good care of you princess, don’t worry.” He assures with a doting smile, innocently kissing your forehead in response to your whines.

His hand sneaks its way down to your panties, rubbing along the damp folds with a single digit to extract more of your wetness. You attempt to bite your lip in order to stifle a moan but fail horribly, almost screaming out when he circles your clothed clit. Your legs squirm at the sensation, still aching and burning for more. You really want to feel him without the barriers, crying for him to take them off but he just keeps teasing you with more languid strokes. There’s only so much you can endure, it’s beginning to take a toll on you— but now you’re about to absolutely lose your mind. A rush of fervor implodes your senses when he slides your panties to the side, collecting more of your essence, thrusting two of his fingers harshly into you with no intention on letting up. All you do is shut your eyes and take slow, deep breathes, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

Jungkook is loving the way your cunt swallows up his digits, encouraged to keep going by the loud, persistent squelching sounds of your wetness. “Mmm… take my fingers so well baby. Wan’ more?” Looking you directly in the eyes as he pumps them deeper and deeper into you. You’re so beyond soaked that it’s getting all over the bed sheets now, not even bothering to care how much of a mess you’re making. You’ll worry about that in the morning, for now you’re basking in all of this divine pleasure.

“Y-yes! Fuck…” you somehow manage to reply, letting out a melodramatic gasp when he inserts a third finger inside your sopping cunt. You weren’t able to coherently think straight, only clenching around the way he stretches you out, you’re so stuffed. But you’ll be even more full once he actually puts his cock in you. For now you two are fixated on solely each other, feeling sweaty and exhausted already. Your body buzzes with electricity, nearing so close to your first orgasm.

Then he rips all your desire away by detaching himself from you, leaving you high and dry with emptiness. Smirking at your apparent frustration, he only finds this more amusing as it goes on. This just made you become more bratty, not getting what you want in the end was more than cruel on Jungkook’s part. You weren’t taking this new dominant side of him very kindly, so far he’s done nothing but tease and torment you.

“Nooo, why’d you stopp?” Another whiney plea slips out again, you felt utterly robbed, needing him to finish what he started immediately.

He doesn’t respond, just hushes you with a quick kiss before ridding himself of his sweatpants and shimmying out of his boxers. He doesn’t want to hear anymore whining, instead he’s going to indefinitely shut you up by filling you with his thick cock until you have nothing left to say but his name. He’s going to make sure that you have only thoughts of him instilled in your brain, he’s going to erase every singular memory you had with another guy just from this alone.

“Said I was gonna take care of you wasn’t I?” Jungkook sternly retorts, his unwavering expression made you feel as though you’re genuinely being scolded. “Patience, brat.” He further adds, producing another spank to your ass once again, causing your body to involuntarily jerk up. It’s so much fun to watch you hiss out from the sudden sharp pain.

Now pulling your underwear down to drag them past your knees, he repositions to align himself with your entrance. “Can’t wait to fuck this tight, pretty pussy.” He murmurs under his breath, licking his lips while looking down, admiring the glistening beauty in his frontal view.

You spread your legs for him as far as they could go, letting him know exactly who this all belongs to. “It’s all yours Koo, m’ready for you.”

“That’s my good girl.” He hums proudly at your answer, already living for the way you’re becoming so obedient for him.

Sliding his thick, veiny shaft against your slit, continuing his teasing spree from earlier, he’d switch to tapping the tip of his cock onto your puffy clit as more torture. You were seeing stars by now, praying by some miracle that he’ll eventually just fuck all of the neediness out of you. Rutting your hips into his pulsating member, you beg for his cock to fill you up, not wanting to go another minute without it. Your desperation’s getting him all riled up, all of the power and control gone specifically to him, completely working out in his favor. As if he was telepathically reading your mind, he slips his cock in you without warning, lips indefinitely part open at the sensation of being stretched out to full capacity. He gradually opens you up, getting you to feel more accustomed to his size, your light headedness comes back as you’re filled to the brim with all of his cock. He initially starts off with slow, moderate strokes, but soon builds a steady rhythm. Jungkook groans as he feels your warmth engulf him, you feel so snug around his length, fits like it was custom made for taking only him.

“I could get lost in you forever baby.” He reminds you just how much he cares for you, propelling his hips forward with each thrust, letting the head of his cock hit all the right spots inside. “Love you so much, my precious angel.” He’s loved you for so long, waited for so long for this, he’ll never forget this beautiful moment— eternally shifting the trajectory of his life.

His cock is way better than you could have ever imagined, moaning uncontrollably from the way his cock’s hitting your gummy walls, making your limbs shake and muscles spasm every time. “Love you too Koo.” A surprise gasp escapes your lips when he takes one of your legs and wraps it over his tatted shoulder, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper.

Feels like you’re already getting close once again, but this time it’s far more intense than the last. He leans down to sensually capture your lips with his, kissing you with so much passion it leaves you breathless. He’s so damn good at this, too damn skilled for own good, repeatedly moaning out his name like a broken record as he pounds his cock into your throbbing, soaked pussy. His inked hand kneads the softness of your thigh, gripping you with everything he has whilst your nails dug crescents into his back. You and him are both working towards the same thing, sharing one single goal. Getting the other to come so hard until you two start seeing your life’s flash before each other’s eyes. His chest heaves when his thrusts become more irregular, sloppier, feeling himself ready to burst any moment. Jungkook looks incredibly fucked out, headed to a point of no return as he sees splotches of white invade his vision, showing an inevitable sign that he’s now reached his limit.

“Shit.. feel so good around me.” He mutters to himself with his eyes sewed shut, focusing on reaching the peak of his approaching climax, “Might just cum right now…”

You purr in agreement, playing with one of your tits underneath your shirt, brushing the pads of your fingertips over the sensitive area of your nipples. “Mmnh… me too… s-so close..”

An idea struck Jungkook’s mind, wanting to see how you’ll react when he tries this with you.

“Suck,” he demands while bringing his hand upward, inserting his index and middle finger into your mouth. He smiles at you eagerly taking them, loving how you didn’t hesitate at all to do it again. You look so fucking pretty like this, he seriously thinks he could die happy right here, right now.

“Fuckk- cumming baby…“ He rushes to inform before throwing his head back indefinitely, panting super hard and heavy. Couldn’t help but grit his teeth and feverishly moan your name out loud, spewing all kinds of profanities along with it. As you were chasing your orgasm you cling onto him tighter to brace yourself, legs shaking so badly while feeling all his cum drip inside of you, his pace getting slower and less erratic when you both reach your highs together.

Jungkook doesn’t think this could be any more perfect. Not only did he finally confess how he’s truly felt after all this time, but he also fucked his best friend and got to come inside the girl of his dreams. Sounds like the most memorable day of his life if you ask him.

Let’s just hope that you’ll still feel the same way once this night comes to an eventual end…

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook x female reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #bts fanfic

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - prelude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the first part of a multi-chaptered fic that became too long to put into one post. It is a telling of your and Dottore's life as a fairytale, with fragile reader because yes. Thank you to all of my followers and anons who helped me figure out the animals that should be used and especially my lovely moot @kaixserzz!

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“Once upon a time, there was a baby raven. The raven was an inquisitive and curious hatchling who wanted to explore things that no one else had ever dared of. But because of his ideas, the raven was beaten, shunned, and cursed for the entirety of his childhood. Eventually, as soon as he reached adulthood, he was chased away from his nest, and from that day on, the raven swore to never trust a single soul ever again. But one day, the raven came across a sparrow, who seemed to love to challenge and test him at every possible moment.”

When Zandik was exiled from his hometown, he thought that he was prepared for what was to come, for he had experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer. He knew better than to give any other person the time of day and resolved himself to be cold and closed off. And he didn’t mind being that way, as everyone at the Akademiya was a sore, shallow disappointment. He wondered if anything of substance ever went through those brains of theirs. Ignoring his classmates had garnered him a poor reputation, but it didn’t bother Zandik too much as he was far more interested in his personal research.

That was until he met you.

You had barged into his life out of nowhere, much to his dismay, and invaded his space, now occupying one of the beds in the dorm. You had greatly sabotaged his workspace and time, as now he had to be conscious of what he worked on in your presence. He had to be careful in his own bedroom because of you. It was positively infuriating. But perhaps the most confusing and annoying thing was your attitude towards him. 

You were… kind. You would smile at him. You would inquire into his studies and research with supposedly genuine interest (he had yet to deduce whether you were being real or not.) You would cook for him and continued to do so even though he had yet to thank you for it. You would run errands for him willingly without any protest. You would shut down anyone talking shit about him immediately.

Zandik didn’t like it.

—

“Despite the sparrow’s kind nature, the raven couldn’t bring himself to accept it. It wasn’t unheard of for ravens to prey on sparrows, and at some moments, sometimes the raven wanted nothing more than to swallow up the sparrow so they wouldn’t be in his hair anymore. But there were no opportunities for the raven to do that, so he was forced to endure the sparrow’s presence. However, he came to realize that the sparrow had far more strengths than he initially gave them credit for. Over time, it blossomed into a most unique relationship, one that should have never been possible.”

Zandik wanted you gone. Your behavior didn’t sit quite right with him, for reasons that weren’t hard to guess. But there was nothing he could do. No amount of harsh words or bickering could seem to deter you. Surely you heard of the rumors? Of what he possibly could have done? Of what he could possibly do to you? And yet you insisted on sticking around, despite his vehement denial of your presence.

Although Zandik didn’t like you, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate your usefulness. And more recently, your intelligence as well. You didn’t think like the other scholars at the Akademiya. You weren’t short-sighted or close-minded, you were always open to new ideas and discussions. You were willing to listen to him even while he was being rude and made zero sense, always having a notepad handy to write down his words. At first, Zandik thought you were mocking him, but a quick investigation into your notes made it clear that you were one hundred percent serious. 

Naturally, you didn’t think exactly like him either for obvious reasons, but it was… refreshing. That made you far more intelligent in his eyes than any other brain-dead scholar. Yet at the same time, your excessive kindness made him think you were painfully stupid. Especially when his cruel insults and ignorance didn’t drive you away, and at some point you had the audacity to start giggling at him whenever he did so. Very strange, stupid, and smart.

He had dubbed you an enigma. Indeed, you were puzzling and difficult to understand. Normally, he enjoyed the challenge when it came to stuff like ancient texts or questions that arrived from his research, however, he wasn’t sure if he liked these qualities in a person. He liked your curiosity but your personality made him feel things he didn’t want to. But much to his dread, even this scholar wasn’t totally immune to your sweet charms, and he was slowly but surely beginning to warm up to you.

—

“Against all odds, the raven and sparrow became one and the same. It seemed as though the two could not be separated.”

You were always sure it was going to be a long and arduous journey, becoming Zandik’s friend, but you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. Though even you could not have anticipated how much Zandik would like you, despite it always being your goal. It started off gradually, and it took you a bit to realize his small changes toward you. 

Something you realized was that Zandik enjoyed being genuinely listened to. Perhaps because no one had lent him an ear, or even then never took what he said seriously. Perhaps he was mocked and shut down. So you listened. And he told you more, and more, and more every time. You could be doing your own thing, and Zandik would drag you away from it, under the premise that his work was far more important. The audacity! But you didn’t really mind, except the times he woke you up in the middle of the night to check over his conclusions. 

Even still, it was hard not to find his bursts of excitement and passion cute. It was hard not to find how he inhaled your cooking cute. It was hard not to find his little grunts of approval at your work or the reluctant compliment of “Good, I guess” cute. And oh, and don’t get you started on the way he blushed when you got a little too close, and then promptly told you to fuck off. Zandik was so cute. Unhinged. Not a good or nice person. Mean. But cute. 

Eventually came a time when Zandik stopped trying to get rid of you. He stopped locking you out of the dorm and he stopped throwing insults at you for merely existing with him. Instead came times when you two would “hang out” as you would put it. You’d teach him how to cook but uncharacteristically gave up after one lesson because he was truly that bad. You would do group projects together and then snicker to one another about how the other groups’ work paled in comparison. You two would go out together, initially for the purpose of research, but end up spending some time relaxing in the soft plush of the forest together. No words were said, but perhaps fingers and legs accidentally brushed each other every now and then.

These were good times, Zandik admitted to himself.

—

“Despite their blatant differences, the raven and sparrow seemed to fit together perfectly, wings and beaks tucked into each other effortlessly. Both had accepted each other for who they were, something no one else had done for either of them. Many years passed, and the two developed feelings for each other. However, neither of them was sure how to express their love.”

The good times lasted far, far longer than Zandik could have ever dreamed of. You had remained a constant in his life for many years. He could have never imagined you’d stick around nor would he tolerate your presence for so long. It was now that he realized that there would always be a vast amount of possibilities in this world, ones that he would never believe existed, but they certainly did. You were an example of that.

Another thing he realized was how differently his body and mind could react around you.

Zandik realized, that sometimes his palms could get hot around you. Not sweaty, but hot and tingly. It was a strange sensation. He realized, that when your skin came into contact with his, instead of feeling like he had just been scalded, he simply felt… warmth. Not the overbearing or underwhelming kind. It was just warm. The worst part was, he realized that on very few and rare occasions, his heart would speed up a bit and get stuck in his throat. It was horrible. Zandik despised it.

And his mind, his mind would unconsciously favor you. He would wonder, what time were you coming home? Did anyone bother you? When you didn’t understand something, his mind automatically went to the idea of explaining again (begrudgingly?) instead of leaving you hanging. He hated group projects even more now when they weren’t with you because his mind instinctively knew that other people simply could not hope to compare to you in the slightest. His mind grew in various ways over the years, but this particular aspect… he was confused. This part wasn’t necessarily a hindrance, but it was odd and he couldn’t control it. Zandik preferred to be in control, especially of his own body, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand. 

You, on the other hand, completely understood your own feelings as well as Zandik’s. There was no doubt about it. You were in love with Zandik. Zandik was in love with you. This was the irrefutable truth. You couldn’t determine exactly at what point he began to like you romantically, but you knew you had liked him for years. You were just glad the pining was mutual now because the feelings were starting to weigh heavy on your heart. But now, you found yourself in a plight.

How to finally confess to Zandik.

You really had no idea how to do it. If it was any normal person, you’d probably have an easier time. But no, this was Zandik, which made everything complicated. You had gone through multiple different scenarios in your head, and none of them seemed right. You thought about it, in the morning, during class, while eating, on expeditions, before bed. Yes, the procedure of making Zandik your boyfriend was occupying your mind far more than it should be, embarrassingly enough.

Zandik noticed your continuous contemplative state of mind as well. He wasn’t much of a fan. No, not at all. Did you realize how much of a nuisance it was to be explaining or giving instructions to you and then find out you’re staring into space (which coincidentally happens to be his face) instead? And then he has to snap at you to pay attention and instead, you just give him a silly smile? It was nonsensical. At some point, Zandik had decided this had gone on far too long and demanded you tell him what had occupied your mind so much that it turned you into an airhead. Unfortunately, it was mostly unsuccessful as you two only had a little back-and-forth, with you defending that you were just tired lately and Zandik calling you out on that bullshit. But he let it go.

Was he worried? No, of course not. It was just that having his assistant’s mind not focused on him was entirely bothersome.

… Alright perhaps he was a little worried. Just a little. He didn’t like it when you were troubled.

—

“But thankfully, the sparrow found a moment to show their true feelings. Was it the perfect moment? No, perhaps not. But it became one. And amazingly enough, the odd duo had become an odd couple.”

It was the most average of nights. Really, incredibly average. The two of you were stuck on the floor doing a group project for the past few nights. It was a lot of work, meant for a group of people, but of course, you and Zandik refused to add anyone else to the group, so now you two had been grinding the work together for a while. But neither of you minded. It really was much easier with the two of you anyway.

Right now, Zandik was rambling on about what to add and what to do next and the comparisons and contrasting of the data and a variety of other things. Normal Zandik things, as he pointed and waved his hands to make his point. But all of his words entered one ear and came out the next for you. You were far too busy admiring his beauty.

Zandik didn’t notice your adoring stare, no, of course, he was too caught up in his rambling, but that was okay. You didn’t know what came over you, but an impulsive thought to just make him see came over you. To taste him. To let him taste you. To let him realize the depth of your feelings. To let him realize the extent of his own feelings too.

And so for the first time ever, you cupped Zandik’s cheek, to which his words came to an abrupt stop. He practically swiveled his head around to give you one of those signature looks of his, and he had your hand that was on his cheek in a tight grip around your wrist, nails digging into your skin as an automatic response to such blatant physical touch. It hurt, but that was when you took the opportunity.

After all, it was hard to focus on the pain when his lips were on yours. 

You were kissing Zandik, who was immediately practically screaming into your lips, along the muffled lines of “whadahelareyodoigmph?” And you would have chuckled at his reaction, were it not for how entranced you were by kissing him. It seemed, that after the initial shock, Zandik piped down and also began to process what was happening. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t move away. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took the chance to intertwine your fingers with his instead before pulling away in satisfaction. Zandik’s face was red and his lip quivered in a half-hearted scowl, probably cursing both you and himself because of the fact he enjoyed a mere kiss that much. But he wasn’t the only one affected. Your own heart was hammering out of your chest as you tried to stop yourself from smiling too widely.

“You know, I’ve…” you paused, trying to control your heartbeat, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” So this was what was occupying that idiot mind of yours, Zandik thinks. How stupid.

Zandik's eyes flickered to yours, bearing a half-hearted glare, and they only said one thing: oh, he hated how easily you made him feel disgustingly weak, and how his fingers tremble in anticipation when you’re near, and how his heart beats far too much for what’s to come next, but oh, he demands that you do it again right now before he goes mad. So you did. You kissed Zandik again, and this time he kissed back.

His pointy teeth grazed your lip as he awkwardly kissed back, clearly unsure of what he was doing. But that was okay. You were probably his first kiss, after all, the idea of doing such a thing with anyone was revolting to him. Before he fell in love with you, of course. Well, this was your first kiss too, but you had read enough books to know what you were doing. You caressed his hair, gently rubbed his arms, and perhaps pushed him down on the bed a bit. It was very nice, to have years of feelings condensed into these kisses.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night after the kissing session, the group project now long forgotten. Except when you squeaked in pain since he had the gall to bite down on your lip, then swipe your bloody lip with his tongue deviously. You should have known that Zandik being inexperienced in something only lasts for a short time.

When you two finally went to sleep, Zandik allowed it when you climbed into his bed and delicately placed a hand on his chest, cuddling into him.

—

“The sparrow and raven’s romantic partnership began just like that. Nothing else needed to be said. In all honesty, nothing had changed much between the two who had been friends for years, except for the addition of an overwhelming amount of affection from the sparrow towards the raven.”

You and Zandik were dating now. It was truly a dream come true. Truly a dreamlike moment to randomly kiss his cheek and then watch him become a mixture of flustered and angry at you for doing such things. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to squeeze his hand under the table when people were talking about him. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to hold him and caress him all over, to watch his face as he received the love he never received as a child. And truly a… laughable moment as he familiarized himself with holding you, which took much work and effort. 

It was fine though. You were positive your relationship would endure throughout any kind of struggle.

—

“Though, like any kind of relationship, the two sometimes encountered a few bumps and turns that would perhaps set them back. But, these problems never lasted too long because… the sparrow and the raven had unusual ways of solving their problems sometimes.”

Zandik wasn’t very strong. Smart, a definite yes, but his physical abilities weren’t anything special, which was why you took it upon yourself to fight whenever the need arose. So when he came back to the dorms one day with hastily wrapped bandages and cuts and bruises, naturally you were extremely worried.

“Who did this?” He didn’t respond to you as he made his way to the bathroom and you quickly followed after. Zandik was digging through the cabinet for more medical supplies, the previous bandages now lying on the floor.

“Zandik,” you murmured. You knew that people didn’t like him, but you didn’t think it would go to such a physical extent. Most people had the common sense to leave him alone or merely talk about him instead. But now that you thought about it, you had an idea of who it could be. Ugh, those fools from the recent expedition. When Zandik exposed their faulty and false research in front of everyone with ease, they seemed to grow some kind of grudge against him. 

“Zandik, let me see.”

“There’s no need.” You watched as he roughly treated the wounds, his emotions clearly showing in his actions.

“Zandik, I can-”

“I said no,” your lover harshly snapped, gritting his teeth. He was trying to stop himself from saying anything else because he could say things he didn’t mean when he was in this kind of mood.

“Okay then,” you acquiesced and let him be. As much as you wanted to comfort him, it wasn’t a good time now. You needed to give him some space first. But at least when you left the dorm, you had a goal in mind.

You didn’t return until it was pitch black outside, and similarly, all the lights in the dorm’s building were off, so you wandered through the darkness until you reached your room. Ah, the door was unlocked too. Zandik must have left it open for you. You just hoped you didn’t get any blood on the doorknob.

The room was dark. Zandik probably went to sleep early. You went straight to the bathroom to clean up. After all, your hands and clothes were all icky with the blood of your classmates. Flipping on the light and looking at yourself in the mirror, you examined yourself. Good thing you weren’t wearing a nice outfit. And your face, not a single scratch of course. They couldn’t lay a hand on you and they wouldn’t be laying a hand on Zandik ever again.

“Where were you?” The sudden voice nearly made you jump. Zandik was at the doorway. So he was awake.

“Oh, Zandik. Hello. I was simply out with my friends, you know?” You gave him a reassuring smile. Obviously, the scholar knew that was a complete lie. He knew what you had done, he just had trouble understanding why. And how too.

Zandik came up to you and grabbed your hands, surprising you. His watchful eyes checked them thoroughly, the blood not bothering him in the slightest. You were truly unharmed. If you weren’t, he would have done something a lot worse than what you did.

“What, are you worried?” You teased. He seemed to be feeling better. Zandik only huffed in response.

“Why would you do that? Now the Akademiya is going to be behind your back.” Classic Zandik, using negativity to mask his appreciation.

“No, they won’t. Our little friends got beaten up by some Eremites instead. They told me so themselves,” you giggled almost a little crazily at his expression. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Zandik.”

“Even so, it was,” he paused for a quick second to think, “a fruitless waste of time. You could have been helping me instead.” Again, you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. It would really kill him to be truthful for once, huh?

“Look,” you placed both your bloody hands over his own. “You are my boyfriend, are you not?” You cocked your head to the side, waiting for a response to which he nodded. “Precisely. So by that logic, I am yours, and you are mine. And naturally, I like to take care of things that are mine. Especially if that happens to be my brilliant blue-haired scholar,” you smiled. Perhaps you seemed a touch bit possessive. But this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, no, you two belonged to each other after all. Zandik didn’t respond but he unconsciously gripped your hands a little bit tighter.

“Just make sure no one sees you doing the laundry,” he huffed.

“Yes, love~,” you pressed a kiss on his cheek to which he made another grumble but made no effort to stop you. After you two got cleaned up, a restful and peaceful sleep came naturally.

—

“Underneath the moon and stars, the two shared years' worth of memories, touches, and love. Though even the moon couldn’t quite understand this seemingly impossible couple, it still bore witness to their endeavors every night without fail. But one day, tragedy struck. The sparrow fell sick to a terrible illness.”

Your relationship with Zandik had become one of the highlights of your life. Perhaps it seemed like you were too crazed for the man, but what was love if you two weren’t a bit crazy for each other? Your life was truly a joy with this grouchy and easily irritable scholar who went a wee bit soft at affection. Well, that was if you excluded the few ailments you had come down with recently.

It started small at first. 

Seemingly minor things affected you. Perhaps a painful throb in your head that wouldn’t seem to go away, but you passed it off as the stresses of exams and school. Aches and pains when you moved your body, but maybe it was just from sleeping in awkward positions because you kept passing out in the middle of the night after pulling yet another all-nighter with Zandik. Sometimes you felt unusually cold, or perhaps hotter than normal. But you thought it was nothing too big, maybe something was going around in the Akademiya.

That’s what Zandik thought too… at first. You were a strong person, no stranger to fighting whether it was people or Ruin Drakes. You would bounce back. In fact, in the beginning, he thought you were overdramatizing your pain. Groaning and whining and clinging to him in an attempt to convince him to stay in the dorms today instead of going out on this expedition. Of course, he shook you off and rolled his eyes, telling you to hurry up. He didn’t miss the tiny sigh you let out, and the slight twinge in his chest but that was quickly washed over by the thought that you were simply milking your unwell condition in an effort to gain more of his attention. 

He didn’t miss how you were much quieter than usual, leaving his voice to fill the silence as you two walked. He didn’t miss your slow and tired steps, to which you had to ask for him to slow down which he begrudgingly did. And he certainly did not miss when you tripped and nearly fell were it not for him catching you in time.

Zandik was about to scold you for your carelessness but the words died on his tongue at your expression. Dulled eyes and pants, your chest heaving up and down due to the strain. You swallowed before your eyes sparked back to life again, seemingly recovering from that little fall. 

“Sorry,” you smiled at him with a hint of nervousness. “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.” Yeah, you went to sleep a bit late last night, but it wasn’t a three AM kind of night. It was rather earlier than usual, to be honest. So you really weren’t sure why your body was acting like this. Zandik looked at you, silent and unimpressed, but you think he bought it. After that, you tried to return to your normal chirpy self despite the throbbing of your head. You were saved by the fact that this expedition was only examining plants and fauna for a class instead of the normal expeditions you and Zandik carry out.

It did not get better from then. Zandik surely noticed from the way his usual rude comments gradually turned into silence and quiet help at your genuine condition. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell that you were being real. But it all boiled over one afternoon.

You wanted to ignore your deteriorating state badly. You wanted to pretend that it didn’t exist. If you admitted it to yourself, then everything would be over. For what good were you when you were stuck in bed all day? Not just to yourself, but to Zandik as well? You knew he would never leave you, wouldn’t ever hate you but… still, it bothered and worried you more than you liked to admit. So whenever it was possible, you did some tasks for your lover.

Today’s errand was simple. You’d done it multiple times before. You just had to retrieve some parts Zandik ordered (legally, this time) and bring them back to the dorm. And you had done just that… only with a minor hiccup. Yes, it was only a small setback, being pushed and shoved by some of your classmates who didn’t like you or Zandik. Yes, it was just an insignificant occurrence, your body too weak to fight back and put them in their place like you normally did. And since it was so trivial, you didn’t want Zandik to know. So when you got back to the dorm, you put on your smiling face and acted oblivious, handing your boyfriend the purchase and then scurrying to the bathroom. 

Not to mention, there were some scuffs and marks on your uniform. They looked to be only minor, but Zandik still noticed them immediately. Your uniform was crisp and pristine before you left, after all. And whenever you got into an altercation, you’d tell him every time. This time, however, seemed different. Now that you looked back, you were pretty damn obvious, but your knees were hurting really bad.

The scholar waited a few moments before waiting outside the bathroom door, listening in. What he heard were whines and grunts of pains, and then something falling supposedly from the cabinet, and then a string of curses from you. You were definitely hurt.

“[Name].” His tone was flat and serious, and immediately all noise from the bathroom became nonexistent.

“…Yes?” That tone of voice. You were guilty of something.

“I’m coming in,” he didn’t bother giving you a grace period despite your sputters of protest. Zandik found you near the sink, only in your undergarments, Akademiya uniform discarded to the hamper, now stained with small patches of blood. Knees and elbows scraped and bloody. Instinctively you moved your heads to cover your elbows at least, in an attempt to minimize the severity of the situation… which didn’t really work.

“Oh… hey Zandik!” You smiled nervously. “See this,” you motioned to your injuries, “I just tripped and fell again. No big deal!” You had a good and believable excuse. It was just that your execution of it was really bad and your boyfriend could see through you easily. But he didn’t need you to tell the truth, he already had a hunch as to what happened. Plus, if you truly had fell, the gashes wouldn’t have been so deep.

“...” Zandik seemed expressionless as he went behind you and grabbed the bandages and the necessary supplies to disinfect it, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bed. You opened your mouth to argue but closed it again, probably realizing there was no getting out of this. It was eerily quiet as Zandik uncharacteristically treated your wounds with more care than usual. Most of the time, he was rough with it as he scolded you for being dumb, rolling his eyes as you chastised him for being so mean. This time, however, most of the sting was from the liquid cleaning the wound. He finally wrapped the bandage neatly around your knees and elbows, before he broke the silence.

“You’re not leaving the dorm tomorrow.” You snapped your head up at this statement.

“Excuse me? Yes, I-”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying in bed.”

“You can’t decide that for me. I can go where I-”

“Not when you’re like this,” he bluntly stated. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and you knew it. But hearing it like that hurt, even though you knew this was Zandik’s way of looking out for you.

The room was quiet again since you couldn’t argue any further.

And so, you had decided to take a break from going to classes for a while. Well, it was more like Zandik had decided that for you, his words being that it would be a great inconvenience for both of you if you continued to act like this, and so he confined you to bed rest and refused to let you leave. Sure, his expeditions would have to be delayed, he lamented, but it would be a waste of time to go when you weren’t in tip-top shape. So stop being an idiot and fighting him and rest already. You know, Zandik’s typical way of being worried. He even took the time to teach you everything, and of course, keep you updated on how shitty the professors were.

So now, your days consisted of resting in the dorm, sometimes doing homework that Zandik brought home, or your own hobbies. But you did feel bad. You didn’t like sitting around and doing nothing all day long when Zandik had to be by himself now. If you were going to be stuck in the dorm all day, the least you could do is tidy up a bit. And of course, cook for the two of you.

Cooking and sometimes even baking were things you liked, but it became one of your favorite things because of Zandik. It sounded strange, but you liked seeing him well-fed and not living off of his inedible cooking. Today you would make… shawarma wraps. Yes, you were in the mood for that today. And so you got to work preparing and cutting the ingredients. The only problem was… your hands were far more shaky than you wanted them to be. The knife quivered in your hands and now the vegetables were being cut weirdly.

Indeed, it had been harder to steady your hands nowadays, so you tried to go for easier food to prepare. But you really wanted to eat some shawarma wraps today,  so you continued on. If you just focus your hand, then surely the knife would just-

…And now, there was blood spurting onto the countertop and dripping on the floor. Just great. It was like nothing would go your way ever again once you came down with this mysterious illness. You blinked back tears the whole time you clumsily wrapped the cut and cleaned the kitchen. 

It was a horrible feeling really, to suddenly be unable to do things that were once so easy. To have things you once loved doing feel like a daunting chore now. No matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about your illness, it felt like it was consuming your life now. You didn’t want it to start defining you… but it hurt. So badly, that you didn’t even bother putting up your usual cheerful front that evening. Zandik took one look at your hand and could deduce what happened. He would have scolded you, were it not for your terribly gloomy expression.

Once again, in pure silence, he redressed your wound (which was poorly wrapped by your unsteady hands.) You didn’t want to speak, nor did you want Zandik to speak. You didn’t want any pity or reprimanding right now. You quietly rested your head on his shoulder, requesting nothing more.

—

“From then on, the little sparrow’s condition only went on a downward spiral. It seemed like no amount of rest and medication could hope to help them recover. Slowly, it seemed like they were becoming a shell of their former self… quiet, tired, and closed off. The raven could only watch as his beloved grew farther… and farther… and more distant from him in more ways than one. In fact, it would be more fitting to call the sparrow a butterfly now. Butterflies are beautiful, but transient. They are truly a joy to admire, but if one gets attached, they will only end up in a world of pain as the butterfly leaves them far too soon.”

You had long given up on classes and work. The assignments Zandik brought home were piled up in a corner. Just looking at them made you feel exhausted. You tried to do some every now and then, but how could you focus on school when you felt like you were physically and mentally deteriorating with every passing day? Though, many had no sympathy for your current predicament which was why you found yourself in your current predicament.

Kicked out of the Akademiya. How embarrassing. Yes, you were not joking. They had a letter of expulsion delivered right to your door for being absent and missing too many assignments, and an order to pack all your belongings and leave within a week. You were not very surprised and kind of accepted it. Zandik on the other hand, had a few choice words for the messenger, before slamming the door with a bang. He was much more wildly upset about this than you were, a spew of curses directed towards a multitude of people in the Akademiya came flying out his mouth. He wouldn’t accept this, he said. But both you and him knew there was nothing to be done, especially since they would never listen to an outcast such as himself. So in due time, you found yourself admitted to Sumeru’s local hospital. Zandik’s expression was grim, which you tried to change.

“I know you’re going to miss cuddling up to me at night, dearest,” you teased in an effort to lighten up the mood. “Don’t miss me too much!” Zandik, however, did not have the slightest reaction, which made your smile dim.

“Hey,” your tone dropped a bit. “Don’t look so glum. Otherwise, you’re really going to make me think you can’t live without me.” This particular tease made his eye twitch.

Zandik scoffed, “You overestimate yourself. I am not so helpless that I would need you to be near me at all times. Furthermore, I suggest you be ready for when you come back. We have a lot of work to catch up on.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh, how perfect it was, despite all the changes in your life, Zandik never changes, does he? With his harsh words veiled with some kindness underneath, a silent promise to you that he will make you better and you will be healthy again in no time.

“Of course, of course, love. I promise I’ll be ready to be worked to the bone by you after all of this,” you smiled softly. Zandik rolled his eyes, but at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

And it… kind of was, for a while. If you ignore the whole context of the situation. You were surprised to see Zandik make time for you every day to visit you in your dreary hospital room, but he did. He would bring you things sometimes, books or puzzles so that your brain wouldn’t get bored. The hospital staff were initially on guard at his presence every day, for his reputation had spread even beyond the Akademiya, but they got used to him after many repeated visits. 

Zandik, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much different you made his life until you were actually gone. He told himself that he could deal with it, that he had done it long before he ever met you, so he would be fine.

He wasn’t.

No longer could he bask in you and everything that came with you. Your brains, your intelligence, your strength, your efficiency, your productivity, your voice, your smile, your laughs, your horrible jokes, your touch, your cuddles, your body - you, you, you. No longer could he call for you and you would be there in an instant, arms swung around his shoulders. No longer could he fall victim to being the taste tester for your new recipes. No longer could he consume your very being… it was driving him mad. He despised how you weren’t at your rightful place at his side.

And he despised how dull your eyes had gotten. For the first few weeks, it was “normal” at least. You’d still be excited to see him. Listen to him. Converse with him. Beg him to stop trying to cook again and just buy takeout. “Normal” things. But now, it was very different. You never outright ignored his presence but, you were far more distant. Barely speaking full sentences, save for the “mhm” and “uh huh” that sounded more forced than anything. Not even mustering the energy to reach out to him or brush your fingers against his You had asked for your bed to be placed right next to a window, and every time he visited, you were in the same position. Staring out the window longingly, gazing down at the city.

And there was nothing Zandik could do. There were no words he could say, no amount of comfort he could provide that would somehow make things better. No, the only thing he could do was solve the issue itself. He was best at that anyway, the scholar and researcher in him paying off. The Akademiya’s libraries were overtaken by him, day and night. No medical text went unread by him. He looked for answers during class lectures. During meals, during the early hours of the morning, and depths of the night. He looked and looked and looked without rest.

But one day, Zandik realized that perhaps he hadn’t taken things seriously enough.

He arrived at your hospital room like any other day, only to see a few nurses crowded around you, fussing and worrying to each other until they saw him, visibly stiffening. It was then his eyes flicked down to your body, which looked… oddly lifeless and unmoving. His brain figured out what this meant before his heart did. One already knew what happened while the other didn’t want to accept it.

“Err…” The nurse fiddled with her clipboard, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, especially to one such as Zandik, “As of today, [Name] has fallen into a coma…” He couldn’t pay attention to the rest of her words. 

The whole world went silent to him at that moment. Everything around him did, as he could only focus on your figure.

—

“With the sparrow now asleep with no signs of waking up, the raven uncharacteristically found himself at a loss.”

Zandik decided it was time to occupy himself with other activities. Like the hospital in the desert he worked at, treating, or rather experimenting on the patients there. It was for a number of reasons. Staying in the empty dorm room without you bothering him every couple of minutes was beginning to drive him more than just mad. Going to the hospital to be greeted by your sleeping body provided nothing but a flurry of negative emotions in him. To curve his growing curiosity and thirst for knowledge. And although Eleazar wasn’t what you were afflicted with, perhaps studying it could provide some insight. 

It was entirely morbid, cruel, and unethical, whatever word one wanted to say would probably fit the bill. Using corpses as material for “medicine”, driving his last remaining patient mad. Yet there was no part of him that felt guilty. That felt bothered. In the end, all he could think about was how satisfying the results of this experiment were. He cured Eleazar. Perhaps he could cure your illness too. Zandik was, in fact, excited.

Zandik continued to visit you every single day to check on you. It wasn’t like the staff cared much at this point. It was then he started keeping dedicated notes on your condition. He wasn’t much of a doctor nor was he experienced in the medical field, but the Akademiya’s library had proven to be more useful than he thought.

He took your vitals. Your heart rate. Temperature. Everything. Everyday. This time he injected you with what he hoped would cure and wake you up. Nothing. There was zero reaction internally and externally. It was a failure. It was frustrating.

Zandik, as a child, was used to being rejected. He never got what he wanted. Which was why as an adult, he made sure he acquired everything he wanted. Regardless of what, why, or how, nothing would stop him. And now that he was hitting that same block again, no matter how hard he tried, he was starting to seriously get irritated. Not at you, but at himself. This happened before, but this time there was also the fact he didn’t have your inquisitive mind or soothing presence to make him feel better.

Not to mention there was also Sohreh. Initially, he managed to tolerate her thanks to your coaching, but now that he had so many things to deal it, he found it harder and harder to deal with the Amurta. She was also the only one who had the decency to send condolences for your current situation, though he brushed her off before she could even get the words out. Yet by some annoying twist of fate, the girl kept popping up randomly around him, whether that was expeditions or group projects together.

When Zandik found his hands around her neck, he wasn’t surprised at himself. He didn’t feel anything at all, actually. On the same day, he went to visit your sleeping body and traced your veins with the same hands that killed your classmate. He wondered if you would feel any different to him if you knew what he’d done. If you would perhaps leave him. From how deeply you were sleeping, it seemed like he would never receive that answer though.

The days that followed were nothing noteworthy unless Zandik’s further spiral into madness and experimentation for both your sake and his innate desire were to be described in-depthly. Soon enough, he was banished from the Akademiya and into the desert. Despite his dislike for that place, it was a hindrance as he still needed somewhere to conduct research… and your body was still in a Sumerian hospital. But no matter, he’d make do.

It was then he met a gray-haired Khaenri’ahn man who offered him something that was too good to pass up and bestowed a name upon him.

Doctor? He was obviously no doctor. At least not one that helps people. Quite the opposite. If you were here, surely you would be laughing and cackling along with him at the irony of that name. But Zandik liked the ring of it.

And so Il Dottore was born. He just wished you were here to see it.

—

“Many, many centuries went by, and the raven progressed with his research in all areas and became akin to a God himself. However, his sparrow remained in a deep sleep and he could only watch as he failed to help his slumbering beloved.”

Dottore was now a man of many feats. To list them all would take a large amount of time, and the only person who would be willing to sit and listen was you. And you kind of did in a way, because for centuries, your sleeping body would be the first one to know about anything. Dottore would tell you of his accomplishments, his failures and successes, his useless co-workers, and how no one could ever compare to the assistant you were to him. And how despite the fact there was no doubt that his research and progress were entirely fulfilling, there was still a distinct emptiness and boredom in his life that only a certain someone could satisfy.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The same conversation was exchanged between him and a segment every day:

“Are there any updates on [Name]’s condition?”

“No, nothing to report, Prime.”

The segments too would bemoan about the situation and wonder when you would wake up. Yet there was nothing that could be done. Countless resources and time had been exhausted on you, yet he had nothing to show for it. The only solution was to wait for you to open your eyes on your own, however long that may take. Dottore would undoubtedly wait though, what was a few more centuries, after all?

—

“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”

Nahida rubbed her eyes and stretched out her body. To think that was only the beginning part of the fairytale! It was truly a long tale, yes, the one of Zandik and [Name]. Yet every part of it was intriguing and left her on the edge of her seat. And what better storytelling was it than to leave it on a cliffhanger?

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #il dottore #genshin il dottore #dottore angst #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #zandik x reader #genshin impact dottore #genshin impact zandik #genshin dottore #genshin dottore x reader #dottore #genshin impact x you #fragile reader <3 #divider by cafekitsune

[lestappenforever]

Lestappen fic - Ice cream shop owner!Charles AU

I don't typically get excited by AU ideas for Lestappen because Lestappen in canonverse is so appealing to me in and of itself. But, while AO3 was down yesterday, @thearchercore received and answered a whole bunch of asks from lovely anons about a Lestappen AU fic where Charles owns an ice cream shop (as inspired by the news that the man is actually going to open an ice cream shop in Milan.) And, well, for the first time ever, I got excited about a Lestappen AU. So, I wrote something.

This is, obviously, dedicated to the incredible @thearchercore, a true pillar of the Lestappen community, and to each and every anon who has sent in asks about this AU. And because this was entirely inspired by people on Tumblr, you can read the whole fic in this post. ❤️

---

Max realizes that he has probably let this whole thing go too far. Way too far. 

What had started as a chance encounter after the Monza Grand Prix, where Max had gone on a drive and ended up in a small, lovely ice cream shop - LEC - in Milan that served the most delicious vanilla ice cream Max had ever tasted, had spiraled and developed into what was now practically a weekly occurrence. Every chance he got, when the race calendar, his PR and training schedule would allow it, Max would fly to Milan, spending ridiculous amounts of money and contributing an unnecessary amount to further pollute the environment, just to go back to that ice cream shop.

And yes, although the vanilla ice cream was divine, that's not the real reason Max kept coming back. 

No, the real cause of his travels was the ridiculously beautiful shop owner, with the fluffy brown hair, the captivating green eyes Max kind of wanted to drown himself in, and dimples that Max saw every single night when he closed his eyes. And what’s more, the shop owner — Charles — didn't even seem to like Max, because the Monégasque was a die-hard Ferrari fan and he seemed to have made it his personal mission to put all the blame of Ferrari’s lack of success for the past fifteen years on Max. Even if Max hadn’t been in F1 for the entirety of those fifteen years.

Not that he was surprised, really. The passion of the Tifosi did, on more than one occasion, seem to seriously impact their sense of logic and capability of rational thinking. 

And apparently, the beauty, sass and stubbornness of the shop owner did the exact same thing to Max's. 

The irony of that is not lost on him.

The fact that the two of them had discovered they were on the same page about the superior ice cream flavor the first time Max had been in that ice cream shop — “vanilla is my favorite” Max had said at exactly the same time Charles had said “vanilla is the only right choice” — had not been enough to endear him to Charles. His allegiance with Ferrari and Max currently on yet another dominating winning spree with Red Bull was too strong. (Even if there had been the flicker of something in those green eyes when Charles had learned that he and Max were on the same page about vanilla ice cream.)

After yet another failed attempt at charming Charles a few weeks ago, Max had gotten so desperate that he had genuinely started considering a move to Ferrari, even starting to subtly ask around about the possibility, Red Bull’s superior car and strategies be damned. But then word had reached GP and his race engineer had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be moving to Ferrari to impress ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’. Which Max had taken offense to, because Charles was not just ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’, thank you very much.

(Max really had to learn how to keep his mouth shut around GP.)

So yes, his obsession with the ice cream shop and its owner has gone way too far. And yet, on a warm August afternoon, Max finds himself walking back into that ice cream shop. 

Summer break has finally arrived, and Max had genuinely considered renting an apartment in Milan for the next three weeks so he wouldn't have to fly back and forth so much. But then he had come to the conclusion that that would be excessive. 

(Because flying back and forth between Monaco and Milan definitely wasn’t excessive. No, sir.)

Charles is there when Max walks in, as he is every single time Max walks in. The guy never seems to leave his beloved ice cream shop, and Max finds himself wondering if the other man gets enough sleep. Or if he even goes home to sleep, or if he has a bed set up in the back somewhere so he never has to waste time going back and forth between the ice cream shop and his home. 

He may not know Charles all that well, despite seeing him regularly for the past few months, but he does know that the man must have an incredible work ethic. 

The little bell above the door announces his arrival, and Charles looks up from behind the counter. For a brief second, Max is sure he sees a flash of excitement cross those gorgeous features, but the Monégasque quickly schools his expression into one of exasperation and indignation, complete with an overly dramatic eye roll. 

“No Red Bull Racing team members allowed,” Charles tells him with a huff, as he puts a brand-new tub of chocolate ice cream in the display freezer. 

Max snorts as he walks towards the counter. He had expected a frosty — pun intended — reception following Ferrari’s double DNF in the last race before the summer break, so Charles’ grumpy demeanor doesn’t deter him.  

“Hello to you too, Charles,” the Dutchman sing-songs, ignoring the way a couple of teenage girls at a table by the window gape at him. “Let me guess, Ferrari’s double DNF in Belgium was somehow my fault?”

Charles meets his gaze and narrows his eyes. He points an ice cream scoop at him. “I am not sure how, but yes.” He waggles the scoop accusingly. 

It’s Max’s turn to roll his eyes. “Right, because the two of them crashing into each other in turn two, while in P8 and P9 respectively, while I was at the very front definitely had something to do with me?”

“Obviously,” Charles confirms with a sniff. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Max laughs, shaking his head in a manner that can only be described as fond. He comes to a halt in front of the cash register at the counter, and waits for Charles to ask him what he wants. 

But Charles never does; instead busies himself with rearranging the different bowls of topping on top of the display freezer, wiping down the counter, and restocking the ice cream cones, all the while completely ignoring Max’s presence. Or general existence, even.

Eventually, Max runs out of patience.

“I’d like three scoops of vanilla ice cream, please.”

Charles doesn’t even stop what he’s doing. Doesn’t even look at him. “We’re all out of vanilla.”

Max stares. At Charles, then at the almost full tub of vanilla, with its little sign labeling it as vanilla sticking out of the fluffy ice cream. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Charles, I can see the vanilla ice cream. It’s right there,” Max insists, pointing at the flavor through the display glass. As if Charles isn’t completely aware of its existence, as if he’s not just being a little shit and punishing Max for something that isn’t even remotely his fault. 

Charles pauses in his bustling to look at Max. Then, he follows the length of Max’s arm to where his finger is pointing directly at the vanilla. His gaze returns to Max’s eyes as he says, deadpan: “That is only a display ice cream.”

Max blinks repeatedly.

“A display ice cream?” he echoes incredulously. 

“Yes,” Charles confirms, raising his chin. “It’s only for display, it is not to be served.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, it’s like this,” the Monégasque says, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug. 

Max doesn’t know if he wants to smack him or kiss him. 

(That’s a lie, he knows damn well that he wants to kiss that smug look right off of Charles’ stupidly beautiful face.)

“Fine,” the Dutchman sighs, moving his finger slightly to the right. “Then I would like three scoops of the chocolate.”

“I’m sorry, but that is also only a display ice cream,” Charles tells him with a completely straight face. 

“You’re not serious.”

Charles raises one full eyebrow. “Does it look like I’m joking?” he asks.

And, well, Max has to admit that it absolutely does not. 

He stands there in silence for a while, wondering why the hell this infuriating man has been the object of his deepest desires for the past few months. Wonders why Charles’ face is the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes to sleep at night, and why he is the one person that keeps appearing in the majority of his dreams. Wonders why, when his mind wanders as he has a secure grip around himself in bed, it keeps wandering to the mental images of what Charles would look like, feel like, sound like if he was there with Max, when all Charles seems to want to do is get under Max’s skin and infuriate him in ways and for reasons Max hadn’t even known he could let himself be infuriated. 

Oh, who is he kidding? Those reasons, coupled with Charles’ overall appearance and being, are exactly why his mind never seems to tire of Charles whatever-the-fuck-his-middle-name-is Leclerc, and only him. 

Max has always been a sucker for challenges. And Charles is definitely a challenge. 

Had Charles been an F1 driver instead of the owner of an ice cream shop, Max just knows their on-track battles would have been epic. Their rivalry would have been one for the ages; their names and lives so intertwined that people could not have mentioned one without also mentioning the other. Because Max is sure that Charles’ passion, his stubbornness and his outright refusal to give in to anything or anyone would have translated into a fierce, unyielding, unapologetic driver. 

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Max gives a quick shake of his head to clear is racing mind. Then, he fixes Charles with a hard stare. 

“Let me guess, these are all ‘display ice creams’?” he asks, gesturing with a hand at the numerous tubs of flavors in the display freezer. 

“Of course not,” Charles scoffs, as if that’s the most ridiculous statement that has been made in the ice cream shop in the past few minutes. “That would be a horrible way to run a business. We have one flavor that is not only for display.”

Max is almost afraid to ask, but he does anyway. “Which is?”

Charles doesn’t answer the question with words, just points to the bottom tub at the far left. The little sign reads ‘Mint chip’.

“Who the fuck eats mint chip ice cream?” Max asks, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “That’s like eating toothpaste.”

For the first time since Max stepped through the door, Charles smiles. A beautiful, self-satisfied, mischievous smile that does things to Max’s body, mind and soul. It makes his heart rate pick up and his skin tingle with an excitement he has no business feeling. 

Pathetic. He’s absolutely pathetic. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Max. That's all I have to offer today.”

And Max, proving just how completely gone he is on this ridiculous man, lets out a long, tired sigh. 

“Three scoops of mint chip, please,” he requests in a voice that is completely resigned. 

Charles’ face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, and he scurries to get one of the small glass bowls reserved for customers who want to eat their ice cream in the shop, not even needing to ask if that’s what Max is planning to do, or if he wants his ice cream in a cone. And although Charles is doing his damnedest to make Max believe that his general existence on this earth is causing Charles physical pain and emotional turmoil, the fact that Charles remembers his preference doesn’t go unnoticed by Max. 

He won’t even entertain the idea that Charles might just be adamant on making Max sit in his shop and eat his mint chip ice cream so Charles can watch him suffer with every spoonful. 

Charles is generous with the scoops — incredibly so — and Max is sure those three scoops he requested actually equal the size of at least six regular-sized scoops. He realizes that he probably should have asked for one scoop instead of three. He watches as Charles sticks a spoon in the ice cream and places the bowl on the counter in front of Max with the biggest grin on his face.

“It’s on the house,” Charles tells him, probably just to further add to Max’s suffering. 

The Dutchman eyes the bowl of ice cream warily, quietly cursing it and himself, before picking it up with a hesitating hand. Charles watches him expectantly the entire time as Max makes his way to a small table in one corner of the shop. Behind him, a small child, probably around five or six, had entered the shop with his mother while Max was waiting for Charles to finish scooping, and Max hears the boy ask for two scoops of strawberry ice cream. And Charles — the fucking asshole — makes a point out of saying ‘coming right up’ in both Italian and English just to fuck with Max some more.

Max takes a seat with his back to the window so he can face Charles. Because if nothing else, he’s not going to let Charles win.

The first spoonful really does taste like toothpaste with a hint of chocolate, and it’s an awful combination. It takes every ounce of willpower Max has not to let the disgust he’s feeling show on his face. He lets the ice cream melt in his mouth for a long moment, before swallowing the disgusting liquidized ice cream, all the while maintaining a completely unaffected expression. 

Charles watches him eat the entire bowl of ice cream, and Max never breaks eye contact. With every expressionless swallow, Max can see the thinly veiled disappointment on Charles’ face and the satisfaction he gets from that is enough to motivate him to finish every single bite. He even makes a point out of scraping the melted remains of the ice cream from the sides of the bowl, scooping it up into a mint green coloured soup in his spoon, and eating it. He even briefly considers licking the bowl clean just to get a rise out of Charles, but the Monégasque turns away from him with a huff before he can put his plan into action.

Which, thank fuck, because Max is starting to feel a bit sick from the ridiculous amount of toothpaste-flavored ice cream he has just consumed out of spite and spite alone. He pushes the bowl forward and away from himself on the table with a frown.

Charles goes back to ignoring his presence for the next fifteen minutes, and Max waits. Just because he can — just because he knows this wasn’t the outcome Charles had expected and he wants to revel in the satisfaction of finally getting under Charles’ skin for once for a little while longer. 

Eventually, Charles comes to collect his empty bowl and gives Max a disapproving glare. 

“Well? How was it?”

And Max, unable to resist, gives Charles his biggest, brightest smile. “It was delicious, thank you.”

If looks could kill, Max would have been dead. Then, Charles turns on his heels and walks away with Max’s empty bowl and spoon. 

Taking the win, Max gets to his feet and waits for Charles to look over at him from behind the counter. When he does, he gives the other man a wave. “See you tomorrow, Charles.”

“You’re not coming back tomorrow!” Charles shoots back.

“Oh, but I am,” Max counters. It sounds like a promise, and it is. 

As he walks out of the ice cream shop, feeling Charles’ gaze boring into the back of his head as he does, Max pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts looking up hotels in the area with available rooms.

***

Max stays in Milan for two weeks, and he goes to Charles’ ice cream shop every single day. 

Every day, Charles tells him the only flavor he can serve him is mint chip. By day three, Max has stopped trying to argue with him. By day five, Max orders vanilla and Charles responds with ‘three scoops of mint chip coming up’. And every day, Max sits at his little table by the window to eat his ice cream while Charles stands behind the counter, watching him eat the entire time. 

Every. Single. Day. 

And every single day, Max can see Charles’ resolve crumbling, little by little, convincing him that his tragic efforts are not in complete vain. They might be mostly in vain, but Max is in far too deep at this point to care.

On the eighth day, Max stays until closing and Charles spends the majority of his free moments actually hanging around Max’s table and engaging him in conversation. It's a step in the right direction, even if Charles does end up kicking the Dutchman out when he has to count the register.

And on the eleventh day, as Max is about to leave after finishing yet another disgusting, massive portion of mint chip ice cream, Charles finds himself looking at the blond from behind the counter, watching as Max smiles down at his phone. Those piercing blue eyes are crinkling in delight, causing adorable smile lines to appear at their corners, his full, inviting lips stretching to expose his straight, white teeth. A wave of something — jealousy, Charles would define it as if he wasn’t a pigheaded dick when it comes to four-time F1 World Champion Max Emilian Verstappen — washes over him at the thought of whatever or whoever it is that puts that smile on Max's face. 

It makes the Monégasque realize that all of his attempts over the past few months to convince himself that he doesn’t find Max attractive or charming as hell, and that he definitely doesn’t want to find out whether Max likes vanilla in bed, too, have been for naught. 

And so, with an overwhelming feeling that he's losing a battle he's been fighting for months, Charles throws away the paper towel he had been using to dry his hands and resigns himself to his fate. Because sometimes, perseverence needs to be rewarded.

And he's not just referring to Max's.

“You can take me out to dinner tonight,” he tells Max, and it sounds like the statement pains him. Which it kind of does.

Max stops dead, one hand on the door handle, half-turned to face Charles. The look on his face is one of utter surprise.

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds so fucking hopeful that it should probably make Charles change his mind. But instead, it makes him want to close up the shop immediately and let Max take him out to dinner right fucking now.

Which is pathetic, really. But then again, so is the way Charles has been waking up every day hoping Max Verstappen would walk through the door of his ice cream shop for the past few months.

But, having no intention of showing his hand, Charles maintains a stoic expression as he nods. 

“Pick me up here at nine.”

Max's smile is so wide that Charles wonders if it makes his cheeks hurt. He also wonders if said cheeks will feel as warm to the touch as they look.

“Okay,” Max says, still smiling. “Then I'll see you again at nine.”

And with that, Max turns, pulls the door open, and walks out of the shop. 

When Charles can only just see the back of the Dutchman through the window, he sees Max stopping briefly on the sidewalk and pumping his fist in the air in the same celebratory manner Charles has seen after so many victorious races over the years.

He looks ridiculous, and Charles might just be falling a little bit in love with him.

Charles doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

***

It turns out that Max's preferences in bed are far more adventurous than his taste in ice cream.

Which turns out to be yet another thing they're on the same page about.

#Lestappen #Lestappen fic #My writing #thearchercore #Ice cream shop AU

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

[schmidtkisser]

hi there!! i just want to say that i absolutely loved your first fic, it was beautiful! regarding prompt suggestions, could you perhaps do something like the reader helping mike get a restful night's sleep following the events of the movie? no pressure ofc!!

Nightly Lullaby

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: mike has trouble sleeping due to the anxiety of dreaming the same memory he has trained his brain for over the past few years. after tucking abby into bed, you help mike finally sleep comfortably for once.

content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person pov, comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, love language: physical touch, insomniac mike, fnaf movie spoilers (story takes place after the events of the movie), you babysit abby, you sing them to sleep

a/n: thank u anon for the rq! this was so fun to write and was such a cute prompt to work with <3 hope i did it justice

★彡★彡★彡

It had been about a week or two since Mike resigned from being a security guard at a run-down, haunted pizzeria.

You heard all about it from Mike himself. The history of the place, the owner, animatronics possessed by the ghosts of dead children, his past with Garrett — everything. It was hard to believe at first, but the sincerity in his tone, as well as the fact that Mike wasn’t the kind of person to lie to you, led you to believe everything he claimed was true.

You could barely imagine everything he had to go through. Losing his little brother, his parents, having a difficult time finding a job, all while in the process of almost losing custody of his sister. Though he seemed to be struggling less now that it was all over, you couldn’t help but notice his struggle with sleep ever since then.

Mike always relied on a nightly routine to help him sleep up until a week ago. He told you about the dream theory, and how he’d stare at a Nebraska poster while listening to nature noises on a walkman.

The part that concerned you the most was his reliance on sleeping pills. You couldn’t even begin to describe the relief you felt when he admitted that he was ready to stop using them every night. But now, as a result of the sudden routine change and the lack of pills, he had a hard time falling asleep.

—

He leans against his sister’s doorframe, his arms folded as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. You always tuck Abby into bed after a long day, pulling the comforter over her shoulders before you give her a small forehead kiss. A little conversation exchange would occur, before she would ask a small request from you.

“Can you hum me a song again?” Abby asks, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation. The simple routine following up to the nightly lullaby works like a charm. She’ll be asleep in no time. “They help me sleep. And you always do it better than Mike.”

You can’t help but scoff a small laugh at the stab at Mike, glancing over at him to see his reaction. He playfully rolls his eyes at you two, before continuing to observe you both.

You look back at Abby, who is hiding her obvious smile beneath the duvet covers. Your eyes soften at her, your hand reaching down to pet her head, before you begin to hum a simple, yet effective lullaby as she requested. She listens intently, her eyes beginning to flutter shut within the first minute or so of your hum.

Though, she wasn’t the only one listening to the sweet song. Mike’s ears tune into your delicate crooning, yawning quietly as he leans himself forward. He adores the soft rumble from your throat, how it strung itself together into a beautifully crafted lullaby. He thinks you sound angelic despite not singing a single word. He can feel his heart pick up a beat as he listens. He feels his eyes grow heavier, his head beginning to nod off as he feels himself begin to drift.

But the lullaby ends almost as quickly as it began. You pull away from Abby, her soft snores slipping out in purrs; she’s out like a light. Your lips curl into a little smile when you observe her, slowly lifting yourself off of her bed as your attention shifts to Mike, who is in the most exhausted state you’ve ever seen him in. The poor man looks like he’s about to fall over any second.

You make your way over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The sudden contact wakes him up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as he looks at you. His cheeks flush with warmth from how close you are, not to mention the comforting feeling of your arm wrapped around him. It made him want to melt, thinking you feel much warmer compared to any blanket he’s ever used.

“Come on, Mike,” you whisper, guiding him forward. You quietly close Abby’s door as the two of you leave the room. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods, trying his best not to drag his feet across the floor as you walk him to his bedroom. He feels heavy as he leans against you, his exhaustion making itself present with every passing second.

Making your way inside the room, you close the door behind you with the heel of your foot. You walk him to his bed while you keep him close to you. The cold air nips at your skin, and you can feel Mike shiver against you too. You reach over to click his lamp on, the warm light illuminating the room. He murmurs your name softly as you both take a seat on his mattress with a creak.

“There, there,” you rub a hand up his back. Your eyes gaze down at him, noticing even the slightest few details about him. His furrowed brows, the little frown pursed on his lips, and most notably; the dark eye bags dusted beneath his eyes. The sight saddens you. He really hasn’t slept a wink in the past week.

He casts his eyes up at you, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you closer. To him, it feels like having a teddy bear in his arms — something he hadn’t really felt since the loss of his childhood. The thought gets him emotional, and he attempts to hide the sudden flood of emotions welling in his face by nuzzling himself against your neck. His fingers slowly clutch onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t want to dream anymore,” he utters. “Things are fine now but, what if I dream about that again, you know? I mean, I trained my brain to think of the same memory every night.” There was a slight crack in his voice, his clutch growing tighter. “Y/N, I know it sounds stupid, but I just…”

“…It’s not stupid. None of it is.” You hush him gently. Your hand trails over to his shoulder, the other reeling him in for a warm hug. You can feel his tense body begin to calm as he takes control of his breathing. The comfort of your embrace never fails to ease him. “I can’t imagine being in your position, but sudden change is difficult. I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, Mike.”

Your tone stumbled slightly as you spoke. It came out cornier than you wanted it to, and you felt your face heat up a little in embarrassment. His silence following your words scares you into a small pit of self-doubt. Did you say the wrong thing? Was it even helpful? You nervously nibble at your lower lip, waiting for any kind of response.

Then, you feel a small, amused huff against the skin of your neck, followed by a little nod from him. The fingers clutching your shirt loosened slightly, but he still kept a grasp on you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You let out a sigh of relief, cradling Mike in your arms. Your lips curl up into a smile, pulling away from the hug just slightly to look at him again. His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, and you can even see a hint of a smile on his face.

You cup his cheek with the palm of your hand, exchanging a sudden, yet loving kiss between you two. The kiss catches him off guard, but he eases into it quickly. You savour the tender feeling of his lips, the warmth of his cheek against your palm, how he kissed back with the same amount of love in his gesture.

Oh, how he makes you melt.

You pull away at the same time, taking a breath as you look longingly into each others’ eyes. Your thumb brushes gently against the corner of his lip, your palm feeling every inch of his stubble. He leans into your touch, and you can’t help but think that he resembles a puppy with the way he looks at you. He closes his eyes, nuzzling against your palm with a yawn. Your eyes soften, beginning to realise how tired you’ve gotten also.

“Bed time?” You whisper. He nods silently in response.

You draw back from the intimate cuddles to tuck him into bed. He feels your absence, and you feel it too, despite the fact that you were just a foot away from him.

He brings himself down onto his bed, resting his head against the feather-filled pillow. You carefully pull the comforter over his body, providing him with warmth against the cold air circulating in the room. He was just about ready to pass out, but his fingers clasp at the rim of your shirt.

“Can you sleep here, with me?” He croaks, turning his eyes away from you. “Please.”

Initially, you were planning to drive home after he went to bed, but you couldn’t help but soften at his request. You were growing too tired to drive safely anyway. You click his lamp off, the room getting swallowed in darkness, with the moonlight peaking through the slits of the blinds. “I can.”

You crawl into the empty spot on the bed next to him, sinking yourself beneath the covers. His bed was far more comfortable than you could imagine, and the faint scent of him has you sinking in deeper.

He rolls over to lie on his side, facing you as his arms snake around your waist again. You do the same, enveloping him in your embrace. He rests his face against your chest with a lazy hum. As he listens intently to the beat of your heart, he thinks of a small, though embarrassing request.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

He pulls you in closer, your bodies intertwining. “Can you hum me a song?” He murmurs. “Like you do with Abby.”

The question catches you off guard. You should’ve expected it, yet it still surprised you — but not in a bad way. Deep down, you knew he felt a bit embarrassed for asking you to sing him to sleep. He is a grown man, after all, not a child like Abby.

Yet, you carry no judgement, cradling him in your arms as you accept his request. It was better than listening to a nature tape on loop, or the dead silence of the house, after all.

You begin to hum for him, your lips pressed together as you craft a tune for him to nod off to. He pays close attention to every note, to the rise and fall of your chest when you croon, to how your voice would bounce off the walls back to you two. With every passing second, he can feel his eyes grow heavier. In the comfort of your arms and the sweet sound of your song, he finally lulls off to a deep, peaceful sleep.

You can feel his body relax against yours, and his soft breaths hit against the skin of your chest as he falls into a slumber. You slowly wrap up the song, keeping him in your hold as you nuzzle the top of his head. You smile to yourself, your heart full of tenderness and warmth, whispering for one last time tonight.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt fanfic #fnaf movie fanfic #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x gn!reader #mike schmidt fluff #domestic fluff #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #physical touch #x reader

[sherlockig]

Hello my little grieving friends (aka my CREW!)

I just want to talk about how much our flag means death has given me. I have not had internet friends since i were a teenager. They all kind of disapeared over time in the same way as high school classmates went away. I have been on this blog on tumblr since 2010 and i have never experienced what ofmd has given me. Not even in my very derranged ca 5 year long sherlock-era did i get to befriend and know this many amazing people who live in my phone. Some of you have come and gone and that is life, but some of you are still here and I hope I get to keep you here for a very long time. Max can not stop us and I want to be here with you until tumblr is put down like the beloved rabid pet it is.

I think we are all taking the news very hard and I think it's important to remember what it is all about really. It's about love and family and above all else the crew so i just want to show some love for my beloved mutuals. And i hope maybe some of you will be inspired to do the same because its what we need in these dark times. We need to be a lighthouse guiding each other to shore.

First of all @gentlebeard - Ella💕 my beloved honey 🍯 I can not explain properly or even believe how lucky I am that I found you and that I get a little good morning from you every day. We have been talking every single day since the first message over a year ago and I don't remember or want to remember how i survived before that. I will treasure the time i spent drinking pina coladas on your balcony in the sun forever and i hope i will get some more time on that balcony this summer. I have found a pirate bar in Sweden so we can continue our expensive pirate drinks theme that we started in Berlin. There is no one else i want to spend 6-8 hours talking to over the phone.💕My partner in crime, lasagna partner and floor person or whatever nicknames we have come up with during this time. You are not just the perfect friend to have, you are also funny, sweet, smart and a expert at making fanvideos that make me cry my heart out and laugh my lungs up - sometimes at the same time 💕💕

@blakbonnet - Meow my darling💕 you were the first one i really started to talk to in the fandom and i am so glad i did. You brighten my days and i love talking to you you brilliant humanbeing (i often find myself thinking i have listened to much to cabin pressure because i struggle to use any other word than brilliant to explain things.. the Arthur runs deep in me) also thank you for being my personal skincare guide in life!! Your fics, your art, your edits, your gifs, your meta the whole you make my dash a better place and we are all happy to have you! There is nothing you are not good at and i am both a bit jealus and impressed by you. Its Meows fandom we all just live in it 💕💕

@youshouldseemeinadeerstalker - Nes my dear💕 We may not be talking very often but I know I always have you there. I loved our vacation together and we had so much to talk about that we didn't even realize that the same song kept playing in my car so long that it messed up my spotify wrapped. It was amazing taking naps with you outside ruins of castles and in botanical gardens and living together in the worlds smallest hotel room. I hope we can get lost together in more cities than Hamburg and Copenhagen. (preferably without rain and sickness and maybe with a map) 💕💕

@darkinerry - Marlena 💕 its a pleasure getting weather and work updates from you and i am always interested in knowing what you have been up to and what you have to say. It brightens my day, please never stop!! Your videos and gifsets can make any day better and you are always kind and funny which are two things i appreciate hugely in my friends!! 💕💕 + You have the coolest haircut out of all my mutuals 😌

@aha-my-villainous-thoughts - Ash my wife💕 my love💕Nothing can make me scream, blush and giggle as much as your fanart. You have this style of everything you make from fanart to dolls to interior design that is so special and breathtaking. One day we will drink so many lattes in a cosy cafe and then sniff lush products for the rest of the day. 💕 You are always there for me - as a online shoulder to cry on or to motivate me with the smuttiest wips ever. I am happy to be mutual married to you 💕💕

@bizarrelittlemew - Ida 💕- my thirsting for rhys brother in arms. I can not imagine tumblr without your gifs or your posts. I love screaming with you over a picture of rhys darbys bicep. I am so happy i got to meet you this summer and i really hope it will happen again. We are not that far from each other, just some miles and a stupid bridge; we can make it. You are always a sweetheart and an incredible friend who write the hottest fanfiction ever💕💕

@dickfuckk - josh 💕 (who I also thought for a long time was called tyler) I dont know where the fandom would be without your bts blog! its a international treasure and a service to humanity. i don't know how you do it. 💕You always have everything i have ever been looking for and as a bonus you are witty and funny like no one else. I am so happy i got to meet you and spend a whole day in your company! 💕

@izzy-b-hands - Holden my absolute darling!💕 I am so glad I got the chance to get to know you! You are smart, funny and kind and my izzy mutual tm. You are always there for me with kind words and I am still forever shipping izzy and the third badminton brother which I think is the best headcanon I have ever helped coming up with. 💕

@funforahermit - Kristina 💕 Your love for Rhys and your gifs are a staple on tumblr and my dash. I know where to go when i need someone to understand how hot Steve is (even if we have agreed that he is yours and Murray is mine which i still think is a fine deal). I very often make or see a picture of Rhys and my first thought is "I NEED TO SHOW KRISTINA THIS" so you live rentfree in my brain 💕

@rainbowcrowley - Addi 💕If i ever start playing wow again you bet i am gonna be talking your ear off about my little frost mages progress but in the meantime i am happy to have you on my dash and even if we don't talk that much are you a beloved part of my dash and brighten it daily.💕💕

@fandomsmeantheworldtome - Maria💕 You were one of the very first people i found in this fandom and your gifs might have helped my rhys obession taking form. You might be into many things I have never heard of but its a pleasure seeing your excitement over everything. You are always a ray of sunshine and i love that so much💕💕

@tabbystardust - Tabby dear💕 You are the kindest person I know who I always get the strongest need to hug and hold close. Your fanart is beyond this world and i adore it like nothing else. Its always both hot and soft in the best way ever💕 I am always excited to get kitty updates and to hear about your ramen receipts. I hope we can still meet at the con next year! I am game if you are!! 💕💕

@hummingbee-o0o - Humming 💕 (i dont know your name sorry) I am always excited to hear your thoughts and metas about everything ofmd related as well as your beautiful art. 💕 it was a pleasure to scream about season 2 after every watched episode!💕

@xoxoemynn - Emy 💕💕 i am so happy to be mutual with you! 💕You always bring joy to the people who get to be around you and fill my dash with the same. We might not talk often but i know you got my back! That is the kind of person you are!💕

@saltpepperbeard - Jodi💕 No one write tags on tumblr dot com like you. There is nothing that can cheer me up more than see that one of my posts has gotten a whole ass novel written in the tags and then i instinctively know that its you who have left your wonderful mark. You are always excited and such a lovely human to be mutual with. 💕 And on top of that you make incredible gifs that make my heart stop!!! 💕💕

@autumnbois - Kai 💕💕 I hope you are doing okay. We might not talk much right now but you were there for me when i needed it most and you are a good friend to have living in my phone.💕💕 I will think of you whenever i see something related to scream and your love for piccrew always make me smile💕

@edsbacktattoo - Jams, jams jams! 💕 We are never online at the same time because of the damn time differences *shakes fist* but you are a staple in this fandom. Your art is incredible and you are the sweetest cookie in the jar. You are funny and always spread good energy to everyone around you and I love that with my whole heart💕💕

@kiwistede - Sam 💕 Your love for stede and rhys is unmet and i love you for that. You are always a good source for some rhys darby insanity and we all know that is what i treausure most here in life! 💕💕

@stedesearring - Kaitlin💕 You are the sweetest and kindest soul out here always spreading joy and love like the sun of my dash. 💕 I always love seeing you and i am happy to have the pleasure to have you as a friend in my phone! 💕💕

@stedebonnets - Ara 💕 Where would we be without your gifs?? without your joy?? without your blog?? without you?? No one knows! I am so happy to call you a mutual and friend and you always bring a smile to my face. Always!!💕💕

@appleteeth - Liz 💕 No one is quite as normal about rhys darby as you and it a pleasure to watch! Speaking of pleasure.. your fic the slightest touch is an all time favorite of mine and i would be embarrassed to tell you how many times i have read it... you are one of my mutuals that i am baffled that they want to follow me. Its a privilege! 💕

@as-a-creww - Caroline dear 💕 You are a beloved mutual and your blog are a permanent part of my dash and i want to keep it like that! you are the friendliest of the friendliest and what is more important than that?? 💕💕

@nandorisms - Ed dear💕 Your shameless reblogs makes the world go around. You are always sweet and a much needed wwdits addition to my life. I count you as a dear friend living in my heart!💕

@londonlock - Londie! 💕💕 The only sherlock mutual i have left and i am very happy to have kept you! 💕 I might have left those days behind me but you know as well as i that sherlock lives in my soul and seeing some sherlock and john love on a daily basis keep me grounded and on top of that are you such a romantic and beautiful human being! 💕💕

@follovver - Tanya 💕 My fellow Swedish ofmd fan! I am very happy to have found you! its nice to be able do discuss it in my mother tongue and i hope we one day can do it live! its to bad we never met when we went to the same uni (or maybe we did but didn't know) Du är fantastisk!! 💕

@wastingyourgum - Al💕(which i always read in my head as artificial intelligence and giggle because it make me feel like you are a robot) My fellow rhys friend. You bring me doses of darby when its most needed and your blog is always on fleek 💕💕

@xray-vex - Xray 💕 100 % one of my funniest mutuals!💕💕 You make hilarious posts that no one else could even dream of coming up with! Always top tier blog content and what more can a girl ask for??💕

@jellybeanium124 - Nina💕 I can not imagine my blog without you! Your posts are always a delight and you are so nice and sweet and funny and incredible (even when you make math mistakes kisses kisses) You bring a honest joy into the fandom that we could not live without! 💕💕

@thunderwingdoomslayer - Nellie 💕 My official rhys darby gif provider who I come to as if i needed a new hit of an illegal substance. I salute you and thank you for your service!💕💕

@forestofsprites - Green my dear 💕You might have gone from ofmd to be the supernatural provider of my dash but that does not stop you from being the kindest forest spirit i know. Your presence is calming in a way i can not explain and i am glad to have you and your love for meg here.💕💕

@cheersmequeers - Kate💕💕 A big puzzle piece to bring my dash together. Always filling it with my favorite gay pirates and i love having you here. Always friendly and full of love.💕💕

@sugashook - Sugaaa💕💕 You know i am in love with your art! Your art is always on top and it bring me back to life every time. I keep the dress i bought from you on the outside of my closet so every morning its the first thing i see and it sets the day right!💕💕 I wear your art on my tshirt to the gym as often as i can hoping to lure in a ofmd fan between the weights but that has not happened yet sadly!! Never stop making your art!! The world would be at loss if that happened 💕💕

@lacefuneral - Jay 💕(should be called YAY because that is what i say when i see a new selfie or fashion post from you) You are a fantastic friend and i love your love for stede and you are always kind and patient in a way that makes me comfortable to ask you questions about something i might not be familiar with. You are forever my moth mutual in my mind 💕💕

@meanmisscharles - Charles 💕 In my head i call you charles but i don't think that is your name but i hope its okay with you! Always friendly and sweet but ready to fight the bullshit the other spread! and such a source for good music recommendations!! 💕💕

@forpiratereasons - Darcy 💕literary no one does it like Darcy! Aways bringing the best ofmd posts to my dash and ensuring i don't miss anything! You are incredible! 💕💕

@blackbeardskneebrace - Miles my dear 💕 You make incredible art both the cute and amazing ofmd art but also the gorgeous historical art you post. Its a pleasure to see you talk about history but also about our beloved gay pirates. Your snoopy ofmd art will live in my heart forever and i think it might be healing me a bit. Maybe even watering my crops and clearing my skin! And those valentine ofmd arts from last year. I am 100 % gonna bring them back this February like beloved decorations you store in the attic. 💕💕💕

@awkward-fallen-angel - Heather 💕 You are one of the sweetest people i have had the pleasure to come across. You bring a big excitement and attention to the things you like and it moves along to everyone near. I mean i have watched long critical role videos just because you spoke so warmly about them and i wanted to know what it meant. I love having you here. 💕💕

@mxmollusca - Mx 💕 (dont know your name so i am just calling you that) I mean you are an incredible writer. I have only managed to read ifwts once because i cried so much that i am scared to open it again because i might just never stop crying. You are creative and funny and absolutely totally normal about rhys darby which in my book is a very good thing to be. And besides that you are a very friendly and nice mutual who is always a pleasure to interact with. 💕💕

@poisonintopositivity - Lilias💕 We have not talked much but we have been mutuals for a very long time and i hope you know that i appreciate you greatly as a mutual and you always but the best posts on my dash!💕💕

@glam-hutchence - Birb 💕💕my dear bird lover! You are a sweet potatoe and i love reading about your love for music and the concerts you go to.💕 Its so nice to take a little part of your life. You are always there for me and i always get happy when i talk to you. You are like a little happy pill! 💕💕

@turtles-on-turts - Turts 💕 Whenever i see a turtle i think about you. Its your brand! You make amazing art! and the ones on canvas always blow me away. 💕💕 Its incredible. You are also so very pretty and i have that picture of you in your depression robe with all the pigeons imprinted in my mind because it such a cute one. You are always very friendly and i love reading your personal posts as well. 💕💕

@vonlipwig - Franky 💕 You bring me lots of normality about rhys darby but these days also a huge bunch of normality about david tennant which i appreciate a lot. You are very nice and i stand by my assesment that you have a very cool aura!💕💕

@haeva - Mar my beloved💕 You bring me my wifes emily and valkyrie and a bunch of amazing posts about everything i can imagine. You are loving and sweet and good at maths which i am always very impressed by. I love being your mutual and doing ask games with you is a pleasure!💕💕

@mykonossalome - Myko💕 When i see moomin i think of you because i know how much you love it. We dont talk as much as i would like but the interactions we have had has meant a lot to me and i love seeing you posting about the things you love! 💕💕

@cottoncandiescupcakes - Cupcake 💕 I love that you are always so excited over our boy the swede and its a pleasure to compare language with you. We can continue fighting if the swede belong to the dutch or the swedes but that is a pleasure!💕💕

@mister-brightside - Andrea my dear💕. Your art is always perfect and whenever i see a picture of izzy giving the middle finger i think about you! Its your brand and its your picture now and no one can change that. You are sweet and caring and a lovely mutual to have. thank you!💕💕

@merryfinches - Kylie 💕 What can i say more than that i ADORE your fanart. The colours the style the softness of it all is exactly what we all need in these times. Every single time it shows up on my dash it makes my heart grows softer and my love grow stronger! I love it so so much. 💕

@ofmd-ann - Ann 💕 You glorious glorious gifmaker! Your gifs are always beautiful and these last days you have saved me with your wrecked edits. As a supplier of rhys darby gifs i love you forever. You are a hero love. 💕💕

@usersukuna - Bia 💕You are a gif magician. Your gifs are perfect and you are also very kind and sweet and i am so glad i can call you a mutual! You light up tumblr like no one else and i am always happy to see you on my dash.💕💕

If you are not in this list it does not mean that i dont love you or have forgotten about you it means that tumblr has put a limit to how many people you can tag which sucks. But if i follow you then it means i love and appreciate you. 💕💕💕 And you know what? We will make it through this hard and trying times of greedy streaming services putting an end to our gay pirates show. I love you all and you know what??

We will make it through as A CREW!

#i might have spent half my work day on this because i am sad and can not concentrate so please dont tell my boss #personal #my beloved mutuals #renew as a crew #i am just very filled with love for you all #for this fandom #💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[scoopsahoy]

ok I've seen arguably too many "Steve takes your virginity" fics but not enough "you take Steve's virginity". maybe you could do it where the reader has seen him and a girl go into a bedroom at parties and stuff but he reveals that they don't do anything besides make out and/or talk because he didn't feel truly connected to anyone, but he does with the reader, and you're his first. doesn't have to be exactly that but I'd love to see smth like this. (also set before he and Nancy get together!)

ぺ  word count ⋰ 2.1k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

❍  cw ⋰ swearing, dirty talk, fingering, descriptive sex, top!reader

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

What started out as getting paired up as lab partners with Steve Harrington in chemistry class turned into eating lunch together a handful of times, then sitting together at assemblies. But you'd never hung out away from school, which is why it sort of caught you by surprise when he asked you out after class one day.

Obviously you agreed.

Now, you were in his passenger seat looking up at what stars you could see, rain clouds blocking a good amount of them.

You'd been making good conversation the whole time, but after a brief moment of comfortable silence, he decided to change the subject.

"I heard about you and Joey. Sucks."

You nodded. "Yeah. That was weeks ago, though."

"How long were you guys together?"

"Eight months. It's fine. I kinda got the feeling that he wasn't looking for anything long term. Asshat didn't even dump me in person. He called me at like midnight one night to do it. I thought he might've been drunk but nope. He was completely sober."

"What'd he say?"

"Apparently he'd been eyeing a girl in his gym class. He came close to sleeping with her that night before he called."

"Damn."

"Yeah. On one hand, I'm glad he didn't cheat on me, you know?" Steve nodded. "But on the other hand, I almost wish he didn't tell me why he was ending it. Maybe that's just me, though."

"No, it's not just you."

You smirked at him. "Thanks." You looked at each other for a moment. "So... Betty Thompson, huh?"

"What about her?"

"What do you mean, 'what about her'? I saw you guys the other night at Jackson's party."

"What did you see, exactly?"

"I saw her pull you into one of the bedrooms and shut the door."

"Oh, yeah."

"She's really nice. Good for you."

"Yeah. We didn't... do anything, though."

Your brows dipped in confusion. "What? Nothing?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't really feeling it. She's sweet and everything. We just didn't... click. Sexually."

"Mm. So what girls have you clicked with? Sexually." You threw in that last part sarcastically.

He shook his head. "None of 'em."

At this point you felt like he was messing with you.

"Not a single one?"

"I mean, we've gotten along in every other way, and I've kissed a few of them and done some other stuff. It just never moved past that."

"What about the first one?" He was silent, staring at the stars. That was when you understood. "Steve... You haven't-"

"No. I haven't. I've only ever felt that click with one person, but I don't know if it'll ever lead to anything."

"Who is it?" He looked at you, still not saying anything. "What?" He still didn't speak. "Is it me?"

He hesitated to nod. "I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I don't mean for it to."

"It doesn't." He raised his eyebrows. "Not at all."

"Good."

"What is it about me?"

"You're just... more genuine than most of them. With a lot of them it felt like they were only nice because they thought it would lead to sex, not because they were actually nice, you know?" You nodded. "But with you, you're just a really kind person. To everyone."

"Oh."

The energy in the car had shifted, and it started to feel like the space was getting smaller. You reached over and grabbed his hand, which was warm.

"Y/N..."

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

You felt your chest tighten a bit. This wouldn't be your first kiss, but it was the first time you'd been asked for permission to kiss you.

You nodded, and you inched your faces closer to each other. His lips were soft and gentle on yours, and he was almost hesitant.

You reached up and cupped the side of his face, pulling him closer, and his nervousness lifted away and he leaned in to kiss you more firmly.

You pulled away after a moment, your faces inches apart.

"Wanna move to the backseat?" you asked, slightly out of breath.

He nodded immediately, and you crawled over the middle console and rather ungracefully landed in the backseat.

When he joined you, you positioned your bodies so that he was sitting in the middle with you on top of him. Your knees landed on either side of his hips and you sat on his thighs.

You craned your head down to kiss him, but you could feel anxiety radiating off of him, so you stopped after a moment.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling back enough to look at him.

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

"You seem nervous."

"I am. But I'm excited."

You smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I just... I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay. We'll start here." You grabbed his hands and pulled them up to your waist. "How's that?"

"Good."

"How about this?" You pulled his hands up to your breasts, and his breath staggered. "Better?" He nodded. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, slowly dragging it up and over your head, exposing your top half and leaving only your bra to cover it.

But that came off just as quickly, your entire upper half bare and unprotected.

His eyes were wide as moons, and you led his hands back up to them. "Okay?" you asked.

"Way better than okay."

You laughed quietly at that. One of his hands trailed to your back and pulled you closer to him, allowing him to plant kisses across your chest. Your hands landed on his shoulders as he left soft, wet spots on your skin.

After a moment, you reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, studying his body. It was littered with moles and freckles and his skin was smooth.

You bent down to press your lips to the right side of his neck and shoulder, making him sigh with satisfaction. His hands slipped down and landed on your thighs, the pads of your fingers pressing into your skin.

Your fingers began unbuttoning his jeans and he lifted his hips, pulling them down his thighs and leaving them pooled at his ankles. You could see a tent in his boxers that had been restricted by his jeans, and it made you bite your lip.

You awkwardly maneuvered to pull your shorts and underwear off, leaving you completely nude in his lap. He looked down and his lips separated, which made your chest go red.

"Steve," you said, getting his attention. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm good."

He pulled you back in for a kiss and you jumped when you felt two fingers on your clit. You softly gasped into his mouth and he smirked.

"I thought this was your first time."

"I never said I didn't do this part."

One of your hands gripped the seat behind him and the other squeezed his shoulder. His fingers were making almost unbearably slow circles, but when you ground into his hand, he sped up.

"Shit, Steve," you moaned into his mouth as your hands moved back to cupping his face.

One thing you'd come to notice since you became sexually active was how little time you lasted with stimulation to your clit. Granted, it was a lot quicker when it was a tongue than with fingers, but it was never more than a minute. You were just hoping it wouldn't be a turnoff for him.

With your hips slowly yet uncontrollably grinding into his hand combined with how quickly his fingers moved, you knew this orgasm would come ridiculously quick.

You couldn't resist breaking the kiss, both of your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Steve, I'm so close. I'm gonna cum."

He kept going, looking at you as your eyebrows dipped down so far that it made your skin wrinkle.

As quickly as that coil in your belly formed, it broke. You gasped deeply, your legs trembling as your entire body convulsed. You involuntarily thrust your hips back and forth as you came, making the car rock with you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned in a high pitched and desperate voice, your nails pressing into his skin.

He kept you cumming until you had to move his hand away, letting your orgasm fade out.

Your breath was shaky, your thighs twitching. His hand landed on your hip, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"Sorry," you whispered breathlessly.

"Sorry? For what?"

"That was quick. I hope that didn't, like, kill the mood or anything."

"Are you kidding? That was hot."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

You kissed him with a smile, a moment later whispering into his ear, "Take your boxers off."

Without hesitation, he lifted his hips again and pulled his underwear off, his boner springing free.

You raised your eyebrows as the sight. He was a bit bigger than what you preferred, but you couldn't stop from biting your lip at seeing it. You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his girth, slowly stroking.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, throwing his head back and resting it on the top of the seat. You covered his neck and throat in wet kisses and he softly moaned at the combined sensations.

"Do you have a condom?" you whispered, pulling your hand away.

"Yeah, in my wallet." You reached into the cupholder behind you and grabbed his wallet, pulling out the plastic-wrapped condom and tearing it open with your teeth.

"You're sure about this?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah."

You nodded and reached down, rolling the condom over his erection.

"Ready?"

"Mhm. Ready."

You positioned him at your entrance and slowly sunk down onto him, making both of you whimper.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Oh, god, Steve. So good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." The pitch of your voice was a bit higher than you intended for it to be, but it was a huge turn on for him to hear you whine.

His eyes remained glued to your face as you slowly bounced, unintentionally moaning when you took all of him.

You kept this slow pace for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. But when you did finally get used to it was when the car began to rock. You squeezed his shoulders and reconnected your lips, soft moans tumbling from your lips and past his.

That was when raindrops started hitting his car, which neither of you noticed. The sounds of skin against skin, panting, and the creaking of the car masked any outside noises that could've possibly intruded. Your eyes were shut, your head thrown back.

"Shit," you whimpered as he left sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest.

"Is it still okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"More than okay. So good."

"Y/N?" This time, he sounded embarrassed.

"Yeah?" You looked down to make eye contact, but you didn't stop your movements.

"I think... since it's my first time-"

"Are you close?" All he could do was nod. "That's okay. Cum whenever you want to."

Your encouraging words were more than arousing, and you began kissing his neck again. You could tell with how tightly his fingertips were pressing into your hips that he was close, even before he said anything.

Your lips against his skin drove him crazy, and when he began slightly bucking his hips up into you, you knew he was right there on the edge.

"Cum for me, Steve."

And within seconds, he was melting into the seat, pulling your body into his, and thrusting hard into you. His moans were like music to your ears and you could tell he was in heaven.

When you eventually stilled your movements, he didn't move. He stayed completely still aside from his heavy breathing, his head leaned back.

You cupped his face, angling his head up so he could look at you. You kissed him gently, which made him grin.

When you pulled away, you combed his hair out of his face with your fingers.

"Okay?" you asked.

He nodded quickly. "Oh yeah."

You looked out the window at the rain, smiling to yourself.

"I wonder when that started."

You turned back to him, and he tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"Not judging me."

"What would I judge you for?"

"It was my first time, and I didn't last long."

"No guy lasts long their first time."

"Even Joey?"

"Please. It took him not even five seconds to finish the first time. This was much better."

That made him smile. "I'm glad. Next time it'll be longer, I promise."

You tilted your head a bit. "Next time, huh?"

"I mean, if you want to."

You kissed him. "Of course, I do."

He nodded. "Sweet."

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

[dckweed]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman. 

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it. 

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab. 

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.” 

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened. 

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money. 

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.” 

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?” 

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him. 

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..” 

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..” 

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight. 

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand. 

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled. 

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie. 

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. 

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face. 

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no. 

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram. 

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him. 

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits. 

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him. 

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple. 

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..” 

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today. 

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades. 

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval. 

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..” 

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you. 

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..” 

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.” 

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it. 

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you. 

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later. 

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy. 

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath. 

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers. 

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in. 

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway. 

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out. 

taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks @eloquentdreamer @sweetwhispersofchaos @pet1t3 @teacupsandtopgun @milkbummm @purplevortexx @silenterosion

#kara writes #top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #robert floyd #lewis pullman

[twstbookclub]

Unexpectedly Cute

Summary: You were grumbling about Grim and his absurd eating habits, when you found a small cactus in the courtyard. When you picked it up, you didn't think you'd see another side of Jack that day. He didn't expect to see another side of you, either. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romantic/Platonic, Tiny Cactus!!, Tsundere Jack Howl (that's putting it superficially), MC is a short and feisty firecracker in this Word Count: 1, 879 hi, i'm alive. i genuinely have a hard time writing jack, ngl. prompts for him were being switched around, and college is still kicking my ass. it's been months, really. although, i want to thank everyone who stuck around and waited for us to post fics again. i'm going to be busy again some time soon, but i hope i get to my drafts before i have to go back to the grind. again, thank you so much and i hope you enjoy reading 💕

Jack Howl has always been an enigma to you. He was an open book most of the time. His cheeks flushed whenever you pointed out his concern for others. His eyebrows pinched together every time you called him kind. He always averted his eyes and turned away from you whenever you smiled knowingly, as if you held his secrets in the palm of your hand.

Yet, he never talked much about himself. He always tagged along with your unusual, ragtag group of friends. Even if Ace and Deuce’s fights annoyed him sometimes, he still stayed. His ears twitched at every little noise. His tail wagged whenever he was happy, and it slowly swayed from side to side whenever he was content. You always noticed the little things about Jack, but he never breathed a word about his life outside of Night Raven College nor his personal preferences.

He was an open book, but the pages were inked with ciphers and riddles that hid all of his secrets.

“Why the hell…?” You trailed off with a raise of your brow. In your hands sat a small pot with a succulent in it. Its soil was a rich brown, surrounding a round and prickly cactus. Judging by the soil and the color of the cactus, it was well taken care of.

Your hand hovered over the thorns, but you pulled away with a shake of your head. As mesmerized as you were by the tiny and cute plant, you had your priorities.

For example, why the hell was a succulent—that was given this much love and care—lying on the courtyard?

You were on your way to Sam’s store for a quick restock of tuna cans for Grim (that tiny rascal got greedy and ate a month’s supply), when you found this little thing. It laid on its side on the grass near the stone pathway. The moment you held it in your hands, you couldn’t help but admire how adorable and pretty the cactus was.

“Now, what are you doing here?” You mumbled to yourself as you continued on your way to Sam’s store. “You look like you’ve been really loved by your owner, so how did you end up here?”

With how engrossed you were in admiring the little cactus, you failed to hear a choked noise and the abrupt halt of footsteps behind you. You continued to give the succulent all of your attention with gentle hands and more murmurs.

You were an enigma to Jack Howl. You rarely talked about yourself, yet you revealed so much of yourself. He remembered how a scowl always marred your face, specifically the times when someone annoyed you. He remembered the fire in your eyes when you gnashed your teeth at Leona’s insults. He remembered the curses that spilled from your lips, whether it was spite for the assholes in NRC or your everyday self-expression. There was never a day that you spoke without cursing like a sailor drunk on booze and the salty sea air.

Jack was reminded of a wildfire every time he saw you. You wreaked havoc everywhere you went. A single touch—maybe a glimpse—from you seared your presence into someone’s mind, like an ember swelling into an inferno among a sea of trees. Like a moth to a flame, he gravitated towards you despite that faint voice warning him in the back of his mind.

The Savanaclaw freshman watched you smile, a miniscule quirk of your lips. The hands that cradled his potted cactus were the same ones that punched a sophomore, who mocked you for your short height. The eyes that held so much contempt and rage were looking at that succulent with quiet admiration, as if you were looking at the stars rather than a single plant.

Just now, you reminded Jack of a pure, white dandelion whose seeds danced and twirled in the wind.

Before Jack realized it, he clapped a hand on your shoulder with a gruff, “Hey.”

You jumped, clutching the little cactus close to your chest with a loud, “Son of a b—Jack!” One of the wolf beastman’s ears twitched, catching a hint of relief and exasperation in your voice. His eyes never missed the way you pulled the plant close to you, as if it was a child that should be protected. The soft admiration in your gaze was replaced with harsh and guarded eyes, the usual. Jack noticed how much he paid attention to you, and he became a bit embarrassed at the thought.

“That’s, uh, mine,” he stammered. Your eyes were drawn to the light flush on his cheeks. His gaze averted to the side, and he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. Subtly, you glanced at Jack’s tail.

It was wagging from side to side, for some reason.

Looking back at the taller beastman, you drawled, “I didn’t know you have a green thumb, Jack. Maybe I should ask you to help me with gathering ingredients for Professor Crewel next time.”

The embarrassed blush grew worse, darkening his cheeks. The sharp edges in his eyes returned with a glower. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face when you heard Jack growl.

“... Don’t push it, Prefect. It’s not like I’d help you out every time you call me.”

Yet, he always did.

You shrugged and laughed with a playful nudge to Jack’s side. Careful hands returned the succulent to him as you chirped, “You say that, but you always come running whenever I do. Just admit it, Jack.”

He shot you an unimpressed look, and you laughed as he took the tiny pot from you. Jack’s ears twitched again. His eyes drank in the way your smile lit your face; how your irises hid behind the chub of your cheeks. For someone who’d pounce at anyone with murderous intent in that petite body, he didn’t think he’d see you smile like that.

Jack’s tail wagged behind him, fast enough to fan cool air to anyone who stood behind him. You silently mused about how it could sweep the dirt off the ground if it wagged any faster.

“It’s not like you to lose something,” you pointed out with that grin still on your face. 

Jack clutched the pot with a stutter and a furrow of his brows. You nearly laughed at his embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but muse to yourself.

Jack can actually be cute like this. He’s even being gentle with the pot. Cute.

“I-I was taking the cactus out for some sun,” Jack began with a frown as the blush was fading from his cheeks, “when Ruggie found me and told me that Leona needed me for something. The next thing I knew, it's in your hands.”

“The little guy took a tumble, then,” you concluded with a look at the cactus in Jack’s hands. “It was on the ground when I found it. Where did you leave it earlier?”

“On that bench.” Jack nudged his head towards one of the benches in the courtyard. A patch of sunlight shone over one of its edges, while the shadow of the tree stretched across the grass.

Jack watched you stare at the bench with a hum. With your attention occupied like this, he observed you without warranting unwanted embarrassment.

You bit your lip, pulling the bottom into your mouth. A million thoughts seemed to run through your mind behind that gaze of yours. A faint breeze rustled your hair and tickled your skin—and Jack couldn’t look away, for some reason.

Your eyes darted towards Jack, and he nearly flinched from getting caught staring at you. Although, you didn’t seem to think of it that way.

“I tried to scoop back some of the soil that fell out,” you told him with a lopsided smile. It looked awkward on you, as if you’re not used to smiling this much in a day.

“You’re lucky that the pot’s made of plastic. Maybe some jerk decided it was funny to ruin someone’s day like this.”

Jack continued to watch you mumble speculations under your breath. He didn’t realize it, but his hands gripped the pot and his tail wagged faster.

Who knew you could be this mellow? Your concern for his plant was kind of cute.

“Thanks,” Jack told you with a small smile, “for finding my cactus.”

You stopped mumbling, and you looked up at Jack again. You looked surprised at his gratitude, as if being thanked was rare for you. While Jack drank in the foreign expressions you made, a thought suddenly dawned on him.

“By the way, what are you doing out here?”

That seemed to snap you back to reality. The familiar frown returned, one that Jack vividly remembered from the little time he spent with you.

“Grim ate too much tuna,” you grumbled with an annoyed glare. It was as if you could see the monster-cat right in front of you.

“Now, I gotta buy more from Sam. That little bastard, I swear to the Seven—”

Jack noticed that you mentioned the Seven, rather than the usual God. You were getting comfortable with the lingo here. The corner of his lips twitched at that. Still, he made sure not to smile. If he did, you’d just tease him more, and this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“I’ll walk you there. It wouldn’t feel right if I left you after you helped me out.”

You paused at Jack’s words. A closed-lip smile lit your face, and the beastman couldn’t help but admire the sudden change in expression.

“Really?” You asked, and he caught the relief in your tone again. “Thanks. You sure you wouldn’t mind? I mean, you still have that little guy to take care of.”

You kept calling his tiny cactus a little guy. Cute. That was all Jack could think about. For someone who was callous and confrontational like you, you were being cute right now.

“I don’t mind. Besides,” Jack slightly raised the potted succulent to make his point, “think of it as returning the favor.”

You saw Jack’s tail wagging and his ears perking up. He probably didn’t notice, and you grinned  at that.

“If you insist!” You chirped, before slipping an arm in his and leading him towards Sam’s store. He stumbled and stuttered again, before he exclaimed, “O-oi, hold on!”

“No can do.” Your grin grew wider, as you tugged the taller and larger freshman with you. Even if he was stronger and stockier than you, Jack let you drag him around.

“You put yourself in this situation, so I’ll make you carry the rest of the cans!”

Who knew he could seriously be this cute and earnest? For someone as intimidating and quiet as Jack, his reactions are earnestly cute.

You and Jack fell into another conversation—teasing him and earning an embarrassed blush—as you two walked to Sam’s store. The silence in the courtyard was disrupted with amused laughter and mortified grumbles.

As the afternoon sun showered the two in a golden glow, the cactus seemed to look more lively and vibrant in Jack’s hands now. It basked in the two’s company, as if it was the sunlight it needed all along.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl x reader #jack howl & reader #why are you so hard to write for #i was going for him being a plant dad but this happened #i love you jack #but seriously #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jack howl #twst jack #fluff #twst fluff #romance #platonic #reader insert #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #AdminCressa🦋 #CressaWrites🦋

[morallyinept]

hi can you recommend the best way to break into the fanfic world on here? i'm new, yay, and don't know how the tagging system or anything works

thank you in advance!!

Hello Lovely Non! 🖤

Oooh! Exciting!! YAY! 🎉🎉 Firstly, welcome, welcome. How wonderful it is that you wanna write and share something with us all, that's so cool! ✨️

Look, Dieter's excited too!

I suppose the best way to break in, is to take the leap. I know, groundbreaking advice Jett, right? Hehe! 😆

From experience, these are all things I've learnt and had guidance on myself during my time on wacky Tumblr, so here are my pearls of wisdom for ya...

So you've written the fic. WOO! 🎉 Now what? Well, firstly, have a treat. Some cake or vodka, or both. You've earned it. 🍰

Then, when you're no longer hungover and throwing up cake, do these things:

And make yourself a banging banner of some kind, or use a picture/GIF. I'm personally more likely to be drawn to a fic to read if there's a cool banner, or you've made a mood board or have a GIF. Kinda sets the tone, you know? We love a bit of the ol' aesthetic. Like a bookcover, we're immediately drawn in with our eyes. Be creative, go nuts. Use the free trial of Canva to go design crazy.

Check it through for grammar and spelling as much as you can.

You can always have someone beta read it for you. And look at your formatting to ensure you don't have massive spaces between your paragraphs etc... When I copy and paste into Tumblr, it screws up the formatting from Google docs, just to test my already thin thread of patience further, no doubt... 😑 It's not a massive deal, but I guess presentation is a hook in itself, right?

Beware of glitches when saving your drafts on Tumblr too. The app especially loves to auto-post it when you hit save, 🤬 so double check you're saving it in draft, not in post, before you're ready to post it to the world.

Everyone has their owns tastes and comforts when reading fic, and quite rightly so. Variety is the spice of life. 🌶 And look, you'll NEVER please everyone. So don't even try. But what is important is that you give the reader a choice to read it or not.

⚠️🚫🔞👉🏻👌🏻 Ensure you list any trigger warnings.

Look, there's this age old debate that continually surfaces on whether we should list every single trigger or warning in our fic, or should we just... not? 🤔

The simple answer is, it's up to you, ultimately. Not everyone does this or feels the need to do this. I mean, published books don't, right?

HOWEVERRRRR. And it's a capital letter however. There are so many people who won't want to read stories about certain topics. Age Gap, Anal, Noncon etc...

Kinda looks like a sandwich to me... I'm hungry 🥪

I personally won't release a fic without listing all the triggers as I don't want any of my readers to encounter something that could be triggering for them later on. Yes, to some degree it can give away "spoilers" but it's up to you as the writer ultimately about how much you want to give away. If you fic contains Age Gap, you can simply write "Age Gap."

Use the Read More/Keep Reading divider.

It looks like this on the app:

Some people write a paragraph or two before they place it on, others hide the whole fic and just leave the intro/warnings etc... on show. How you do it is up to you, but please, please use it!

Nobody likes to scroll through a whole chapter of 10k+ words trying to get to the next post... nobody. Cue ranty Anons in your mailbox if you don't. We've all been there and made that mistake. 😬

Plus, using this will also hide any explicit or triggering content from immediate view. People more than likely won't read your fic if you don't have one of these on it.

# Tagging

Tagging - to tag or not to tag?

Tagging is a massive topic, but essentially it boils down to two types of tagging.

Tagging using a # which is at the bottom of each of your posts, and tagging people in your posts by using the @ and then their username.

So say, for example, you've written a Joel Miller fic.

Oh, hey Joel... we're talking about you handsome, not to you.

You can tag it "joel miller" or "joel miller tlou" or "joel miller x reader" etc... People can follow the tag, so they'll see your work in it if they're following it.

If you search the tag on Tumblr it'll tell you how many people are following that tag too, so you'll know which ones are more popular and will be seen by the most eyes.

Currently (as of writing this response) the 'Joel Miller' tag has 225k followers! 👀 So if you write a Joel Miller fic, you deffo want one of your first 5 tags to be that one!

Someone's popular, eh Joel?

@ Tagging

He loves it really.

☝🏻Note that the first 5 tags you use are the ones that Tumblr actually uses to make your fic show up in those tags too. You can put up to 30 tags on a fic and yet Tumblr only counts the first 5. Dumb, I know. 🤦🏻‍♀️ The rest is just for your own use to find it again on your blog.

If you search your own blog using "Joel Miller" everything you've ever posted with Joel Miller will come up. So you can use your own tags or words for yourself too. I use "Jett's fic recs" for example, when I re-blog someone's fic so I can find it again.

⚠️ And you can use tags to highlight triggers too, for example you can write "tw blood" for a blood warning. (tw = trigger warning) People can block tags so certain things don't show up in their feed as a way of shielding themselves from content they don't want to see/read. So if I've blocked "tw blood" I won't ever see your fic, even with all the other tags you use.

So be mindful of how you tag, not only for yourself, but for others too.

And essentially tags are how some people choose to comment and interact with you. Some people write mini fics in the tags! It's really quite fun. Just remember, there's a limit of 30 tags per post and put your best 5 first.

You can also tag users! You can offer up a tag list to users who you think might be interested in reading your fic (feel free to tag me, I'd love to read it!) A lot of writers have a bunch of regular readers who they'll tag @ username on their works. They're called tag lists. Readers may reach out to you to ask to be tagged too.

There's no shame in hyping your own work - you wrote it, be proud of it! 🙌🏻

Others choose not to do this and instead create a side blog for notifications of their works. It's up to you how you choose to do this, but if you tag specific people, chances are they're going to read your work because they want to.

You can tag up to 50 users on a single post, I believe. (Or at least it's 50 users and 50 links when I do my fic rec lists) I think it varies if you're on app or desktop. Someone will correct me if I'm wrong... but there is deffo a limit.

Reblog your own work for time zones.

So, I'm in the UK and the majority of my followers are in the USA, so when I'm in bed snoozing away, they're awake and reading smut at work.... 😏 So I'll schedule my fic to release at various points in the day and night so everyone can see it on their feed.

Keep it circling too, I'll go back and re-blog older works when more people follow me so they don't miss out. And as a writer, you'll want people to love your older works as much as the new.

And finally, some basic etiquette...

Please don't be disheartened if your fic doesn't get the traction you want right away.

It does not mean that your writing isn't good. We all started in the fandom with 0 followers and 0 reblogs. Its important to remember to write, first and foremost, for your own enjoyment. The right people will find you and love your work, it just takes a bit of time.

You can jazz your fic up with dividers and GIFs. Just ensure you give credit by @ tagging the person who made the divider you're using, if you choose to use one, and use the GIF search function on Tumblr for your GIFs, as they auto tag and credit the creator of the GIF for you. And that way, everyone stays happy. ✌🏻

And finally...

Interact with your comments and reblogs. People took the time to read your work, even just a simple thank you back is always appreciated and well received.

Re-blog, re-blog, re-blog what you love!

The like button is for bookmarking only. It does absolutely nothing to make posts get seen like it does on other socials. Re-blogging is what gets yours and others work seen and put on people's feeds on Tumblr. If you want people to re-blog your own work, you'll need to give back and re-blog theirs too. Tumblr is all about sharing in the form of re-blogs.

Love you! 🖤

✨️HAVE FUN!✨️

I'm so excited you're here and can't wait to read your fics! 🤗

Apologies if any of this you may already know, I just wanted to share what I've learnt in abundance.

And if you have further questions, feel free to reach out. I'm no expert, but I'll try and help if I can.

And if anyone else has any tips/hints/advice etc... feel free to share in the comments.

#jett's asks #pedro pascal #joel miller #dieter bravo #new writers yay! #welcome!

[papiliotao]

MOVIE NIGHT

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti

♡ — Synopsis: immersing yourselves in the wonderful world of films.

♡ — Content: modern!au, fluff, crack, established relationship in Venti’s, mutual pining in Kazuha’s, friends to lovers in Kazuha's and Heizou’s, Scara being a little mean and grumpy, reader is roommates with Scaramouche, Xiao is oblivious, but he's got the spirit

♡ — A/N: welcome to another episode of Rei can’t write the same amount for each character. No, I’m definitely not biased lmao I’m so sorry, Venti enjoyers </3 I hope you enjoy the fic though! Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💕

Heizou

Shikanoin Heizou is a splendid friend, but he’s also the last person anyone wants to watch movies with. For one, he always chooses films of the same genre: mystery, and in addition to this, he’s too smart for his own good. You’re certain your friend must possess some sort of sixth sense because he never fails to predict the most ludicrous of twists. On one hand, you’re impressed by his superhuman abilities, but on the other hand, you can’t get through a single film without Heizou spoiling the ending for you.

This leads to you making a bet with Heizou. If he can watch one movie with you without giving away anything about the critical plot points, you will do one favour for him — anything he wants (within reason, of course). When you propose the idea, you’re surprised by how quickly Heizou agrees. It seems that he’s confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut.

The two of you choose to watch a detective movie. For the first half of the film, he’s able to hold himself together impressively well. He simply sits still and stares at the screen with interest lacing his gaze. Heizou doesn’t speak, doesn’t express surprise or grief when the first victim of the fictional murderer is found dead, and doesn’t chime in when the detective is investigating leads. However, one particular scene shatters his resolve.

The detective has caught the killer in the act, but their figure is hidden beneath a thick cloak. Their identity is obscured, and they do not speak a word. As the detective starts ranting about how they have connected the dots and figured out the identity of the murderer, Heizou starts shifting uncomfortably next to you. You look over to him and see that he is struggling to stay quiet. Finally, he gives in to temptation.

"What kind of detective are you? That’s — " before Heizou can speak another word, the figure pulls down their hood to reveal that the detective's conclusions are completely off the mark. Your jaw drops. Heizou regains his composure and breathes out a sigh of relief. Thanks to the film’s impeccable timing, he hasn’t lost yet. He manages to make it through the rest of the runtime without spoiling anything — not that there’s much left to spoil. Once the credits roll, Heizou brings up the favour you promised him.

"What do you want?" you ask, breathing out a sigh of defeat.

"A kiss," your mischievous friend smirks at you. His eyes glitter as he speaks. You stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

"Where is this coming from?" you inquire, narrowing your eyes at Heizou.

"For someone who’s been forced to watch so many detective movies, you sure are bad at deciphering clues. I love you — as more than a friend. I thought I was making it fairly obvious, but it seems you’re just as clueless as the characters that were onscreen mere minutes ago."

Kazuha

As your childhood friend, Kazuha has spent countless nights sleeping over at your house and watching cheesy films with you — emphasis on cheesy. Even though the two of you are now in college, your tradition of having movie nights every week has never ceased. However, your feelings toward the boy have changed dramatically.

There was a time back when you were in elementary school where Kazuha was nothing more than your best friend. The two of you would cuddle on his couch while viewing Disney movies. At the time, you thought nothing of the close proximity, too focused on the film to read too much into Kazuha’s actions. You didn’t notice the way he would stare at you instead of the screen. You didn’t notice the way he would gently pull you closer whenever you seemed scared. And you didn’t notice the way he would sigh wistfully whenever you watched romance movies that you found abhorrently cringey.

However, now that you’re an adult, you are able to catch on to Kazuha’s subtle affections, prompting you to consider the prospect of the boy having a crush on you. Your theory causes you to come to the startling conclusion that you reciprocate his sentiments. In an official capacity, you’re still best friends, but deep down, you know that there’s more to it. He likes you, but you’re too scared to confront him about his feelings, too afraid of taking one wrong step and decimating your precious friendship.

It doesn't help that Kazuha is only becoming more and more bold with his advances. Case in point: today’s weekly film viewing. As always, Kazuha has his arm wrapped around you, cuddling with you for comfort. He’s so close that you can feel his breath tickling the side of your face, so you try your best to direct all your attention toward the movie to prevent your visage from turning a vibrant cherry red.

Kazuha has chosen to watch something romantic this week. In hindsight, letting him pick the film was a mistake. As a result of your poor decisions, you are now seated on a couch in a television-lit room beside your best friend-turned-crush. Sappy dialogue plays in the background as Kazuha gently plays with your hair. You risk a glance at the boy, and you are rendered breathless.

His white hair catches the weak light of the screen in a way that makes it seem as though it is made from strands of moonlight. The gentle smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Most beautiful of all, however, are his vibrant red eyes. Piercing crimson meets your gaze as Kazuha notices you staring at him.

"The pickup lines in this movie are a little generic, don’t you think?" Kazuha asks you. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t bring up the fact that you were very obviously admiring his appearance just a few seconds ago.

"I guess you’re right," you reply. "Does my favourite poetry nerd think he can do better?" you tease your friend.

Kazuha seems lost in thought for a second before responding. "I like to think that I would be more genuine with the one I love. Instead of repeating the words of lovers before me, I would like to offer the person dearest to my heart words of affirmations specific to them." His answer makes you melt on the spot. Kazuha is such a sweet and thoughtful person.

"Is there anyone you’re thinking about in particular?" you innocently inquire.

Kazuha chuckles lightly. The sound of his laughter is swoon-worthy. "There is. I could write pages upon pages of poetry about them — in fact, I already have. Perhaps we’ll be able to read them together someday."

"And who is the lucky person you’re crushing on?" you ask Kazuha. You try to make your tone light so that your question don’t make him feel as though you’re interrogating him. However, you’re almost certain that desperation oozes from the subtle cracks in your soft voice. An awkward silence hangs in the stagnant air.

"It’s you," Kazuha whispers. "It’s always been you." You feel your heart soaring out of your chest. Despite the fact that you have been somewhat aware of Kazuha’s affections for an eternity, hearing him confess his feelings still causes the blood to rush to your face. Your lips can’t help but curve into a tender smile.

Kazuha makes eye contact with you, desperately searching your gaze for any semblance of reciprocation. He seems to find what he’s looking for because a split second later, the boy relaxes completely.

As the film in the background ends, you and Kazuha come to a mutual understanding. His heart belongs to you and yours to him. The first act of your love story with Kazuha has concluded, but you are sure there is still much more to come.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is nothing short of an interesting roommate. You’re not quite sure why, but he often goes out of his way to avoid you. To your dismay, it almost feels as though you are living alone. You’ve always wanted to get closer to the boy, but he refuses to speak to you unless necessary, and he hardly ever leaves his room. When he does decide to talk to you, his responses are either blunt or straight up snarky. He pokes fun at you in attempts to provoke you. Although you find his attitude infuriating, you also long to understand him. Scaramouche has piqued your curiosity in every way possible.

It just so happens that you find the perfect opportunity to spend time with him on a rainy summer day. Initially, you are intent on heading to the local park to meet your friend for a picnic dinner. However, after taking only a few steps outside your apartment complex, a few light drops of rain hit your head. Despite this, you continue forward, hoping that Mother Nature will take pity on you and calm the cries of the storms at hand. Your wishes are not fulfilled, as after only a few minutes, you are forced to head back as gentle rain becomes a raging thunderstorm.

When you re-enter your apartment, you notice that the place is almost completely dark. The only light inside the small space is a faint glow being emitted from the living room. Cautiously, you walk into the room. As you approach, you notice the faint sound of people conversing coming from the room. Strange. Does Scaramouche have guests over?

Your questions are answered when you step into the living room. Hushed whispers ring out over menacing music, evoking an ominous feeling within the depths of your soul. However, as you look over at the couch, you feel all the tension in your body dissipate into nothingness. Scaramouche is sitting down on the black cushions, remote in hand, and he appears to be watching something on the TV.

As you make your way toward your roommate, the floorboards creak and groan, causing him to whip his head around. His eyes widen as they land on you.

"What are you doing here?" Scaramouche asks you, furrowing his brows as he speaks. He regards you with an unreadable expression.

"I live here," you tell him. You know that he didn’t mean the question in that way, but you want to get a reaction out of him.

Scaramouche heaves out a heavy sigh. "Whatever," he mutters dismissively. He turns back to the screen.

"What are you doing?" you question Scaramouche, slowly walking over to the couch. You stand beside the piece of furniture, hesitant to sit down. Scaramouche doesn’t respond for a while. Perhaps he is hoping for you to leave. However, you continue to stay by his side, so he finally gives in and speaks.

"I’m watching a horror movie," he informs you in a dry tone. "Why? Do you want to watch with me? Somehow I doubt you would be able to handle it." Even in the dimly-lit room, you can see the wide cheshire-esque smirk spreading across Scaramouche’s face.

You roll your eyes. "I’ll be fine!" you insist, sinking down into the couch. The cautious thoughts that had been plaguing your mind just moments prior have now vanished. All that remains is a burning desire to prove Scaramouche wrong.

Despite your determination, you have to admit that your roommate is right. The film is frightening. However, as you look over at Scaramouche, you notice that he appears rather indifferent. It seems that he really isn’t scared. On the other hand, you feel yourself getting somewhat jumpy. The movie keeps catching you off-guard.

Chills run down your spine as ghosts emerge to confront the protagonist at every twist and turn they take. The backstories, motifs, and physical appearances of the entities cause you to shiver, and the gruesome nature of the characters’ demises has you shaking.

Subconsciously, you edge closer and closer to Scaramouche throughout the runtime of the movie. Around three fourths of the way through, you’re shoulder-to-shoulder. You don’t notice anything, but Scaramouche does. He doesn’t comment on it.

"How are you feeling?" Scaramouche suddenly asks out of nowhere, causing you to jump. He hits the pause button on the remote he’s clutching and waits to hear your response. The room is now completely silent. Scaramouche’s gentle breathing is audible in the stillness, and a sense of calm washes over you as you listen. You gradually regain your composure.

"I’m fine," you say. Although you try to make your voice seem confident, it comes out shaky. By the light of the television screen, you can see Scaramouche’s brows raise in a skeptical manner, and he turns off the TV.

"I don’t believe you." Scaramouche declares, his voice steady in stark contrast to yours. You pout, but you don’t try to argue with him. He’s right. The film has scared the wits out of you. "Listen, it’s obvious that you don’t want to watch more. Why don’t you just go to sleep or something?" he waves his hand dismissively.

You yawn upon hearing his words. Although it is still early, something about freaking out over a movie for a solid hour is immensely tiring. Perhaps sleeping is a good idea, but you are also afraid that the images of the ghastly figures within the film will follow you and materialize within the realm of nightmares. The mere thought makes you tremble. Gathering up all your courage, you ask Scaramouche a nearly outlandish question.

"Stay with me?" you stutter, shyly looking into his eyes. In a normal instance, you would not even consider requesting such a thing, but desperation often drives people to do crazy things.

Initially, the only response to your plea is an empty silence. You look down, wishing you could take back your words. If Scaramouche rejects you now, you will never be able to look him in the eyes again, but to your surprise, your roommate sighs and nods his head when you finally find the strength to meet his gaze.

Instead of leading Scaramouche to your room, you simply adjust your position on the couch and lay your head down on his lap. Your roommate opens his mouth to protest, but he sees the relaxed expression on your face and relents. Finally content knowing that you’re with someone who will protect you, you close your eyes and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Instead of nightmares, your dreams are filled with sweet cotton candy skies, shimmering beaches of bejeweled sands, and oceans of the deepest azure.

As you are sleeping, half-coherent thoughts form in your unconscious mind. You begin to realize that perhaps Scaramouche isn’t as bad as he appears on the outside. With him, you feel a sense of serenity like no other, despite the fact that you are not all that familiar with each other. For now, you are content with the fact that you and your roommate have taken the first step in a long process of opening up to each other.

Xiao

Xiao doesn’t watch movies often. He doesn’t have a preferred genre, doesn’t have a favourite actor, and hasn’t watched more than five classics. In other words, the man lives under a rock.

When you learn of this, you immediately take it upon yourself to introduce Xiao to a wide array of cinematic masterpieces — and some laughably terrible movies just for the fun of it. Even though the two of you only know each other through mutual friends, you feel too much pity for Xiao to not help him explore the world of films. He's been missing out on absolute gems for years.

Besides, Xiao's reactions are always priceless — his reactions and, well, his lack of reactions. As an example, whenever the two of you watch horror movies together, Xiao stares at the screen with a straight face. He even goes so far as to criticize the logic of certain scenes.

"This doesn't make any sense. How did the protagonist trip over nothing?"

The absurdity of cinema logic never fails to puzzle Xiao. His comments, although slightly too serious at times, are always amusing, and they never fail to elicit a light chuckle from you. Unbeknownst to you, Xiao’s heart feels as though it’s about to leap out of his chest whenever he hears your laughter. He doesn’t quite know when or how his feelings toward you began to fester like a storm within his feeble heart.

In any case, Xiao is undeniably starting to fall in love with you, but he never says anything because he fears rejection. His crush on you is why he never says no to your invitations to enjoy films together. Over time, your monthly movie nights turn into weekly hangouts — rather uncharacteristic for the typically anti-social Xiao, leaving you wondering why he treats you differently.

This leads into your current situation. The two of you are sitting down in your living room, watching a teen romance movie. Subtle uncertainty lingers within the air, but you don’t really feel uncomfortable. You never feel uncomfortable with Xiao. Despite his cold exterior, he’s actually an absolute sweetheart, and it shows in the way he’s reluctantly cuddling you to keep you warm right now — albeit a little shyly.

The movie the two of you are watching is rather cringey and overly dramatic. It’s almost painful to watch the protagonist pine over their love interest, refusing to confess because they’re afraid of being turned down. They talk about how incredible their crush is, the comfort that they bring, and how they would love to have them by their side forever. Despite all this, the protagonist is still afraid to declare their affections, retaining a mindset plagued by the woes of doubt and insecurity.

You begin to realize that the main character is rather relatable, but you can’t quite put your finger on why — until you glance over at the amber-eyed boy sitting next to you. The realization that the film just perfectly described your feelings toward Xiao hits you like a truck.

You love Xiao.

You’ve loved him for a very long time.

But you were just too oblivious to tell.

You are so tangled up in a web of your own emotions that you don’t notice the way Xiao stares at you. He longs for you just as much as you long for him, but the two of you are both far to oblivious and fearful to confess your feelings right now. So for the time being, all you can do is steal quick glances at each other and shyly link your pinkies together, hoping that the seeds of affection within your hearts will give you the courage to turn your friendship into a blossoming romance.

Venti

Whenever it’s Venti’s turn to pick the film you’ll be watching for movie night, you just know that he’ll choose one of two things: a Disney movie or a musical. It’s no secret that Venti loves music, so he sings his heart out to all the musical numbers. He has memorized every lyric to every song flawlessly. The duality of your boyfriend’s voice makes you think that he himself could be a movie star. Sometimes it is light and airy to portray the carefree and joyful atmosphere of a scene, reminiscent of a light breeze on a sweltering summer day. However, Venti is also able to make his tone dark and wild — like the unpredictable gale of a fearsome storm.

Despite the fact that the beguiling melodies that leave Venti’s lips are no less impressive than the songs of sirens, sometimes he becomes a little too obnoxious for your liking. There are times where he can’t stop singing, even after the characters have stopped. Although his voice is delightful, it gets irritating because you can’t hear what’s going on in the film. In these instances, the best course of action is to take matters into your own hands.

You can usually get him to shut up by playfully nudging him with your elbow. Squishing his cheeks so that he can’t sing properly also works, and as a bonus, he looks adorable. However, this time, you decide to try something new.

You turn to your boyfriend and stare at him until you catch his attention. Once he is looking back into your eyes, you lean closer to him and wait until he gives you a sign that he’s alright with what you’re about to do. Venti seems to understand and nods, lips parting slightly. He never rejects your advances. Then, you close the distance between the two of you at an excruciating pace, savoring the frustrated expression on your boyfriend’s face. By this time, he has forgotten all about the movie. He is focused on you and you alone.

At long last, you plant a passionate kiss on his lips, fulfilling all his desires. Something about the way he tastes reminds you of freshly-baked apple pie — warm and sweet. You kiss him until he is breathless and red in the face, and when the two of you finally pull apart, your boyfriend is at a loss for words.

He stays silent for the rest of the film.

#r.archives *ೃ༄ #heizou x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader

[mvltisstuff]

Hi I was wondering do you write for Bobby Nash? If you do, I wondering if you can do something like the whole 118 (including reader) surprising Bobby with Father’s Day gifts and tho him a little party. If you don’t mind writing a little late Father’s Day special.

I think it would very cute bc we can all agree that Bobby is the Father of the 118 crew, and I feel like he needs to be appreciated more :)

I hope ur doing well and keep it up with the good writing, I love all of your fics ❤️

kids - b.n

summary: request :)

bobby nash x platonic!reader x the 118 being his children fr

a/n: i’m a little late to the father’s day game… but i hope you all had a wonderful day and i hope you checked up on those who might not be as fortunate that day <3 enjoy ml, thank you for this sweet request!

y/n had caught bobby just getting off the engine after a call, practically appearing out of nowhere to grab him. she brought him away and up the stairs, leading him to the kitchen.

when bobby walked in, everyone had been in there with small wrapped presents and gift bags. bobby shook his head, “what is all this, guys?”

“happy father’s day!” buck yells, blowing a little party horn as he pushes the gift closer to bobby.

everyone at the station considered bobby as their non-biological father. not a single day went by where bobby wasn’t by their side. he was their captain, but also their friend. bobby fought alongside all of them and they all fought his battles for him. he never imagined that he would have all these people who loved him after what happened. he carried crushing guilt and was prepared to leave it all behind, making it impossible to open up. everyone at the firehouse saved him in every way a person can be saved. he brought out the best version of everyone. he never gave up hope on anyone and everyone there couldn’t thank him enough. y/n was hired by bobby, being her first accepting captain who actually cared about her and the job. she was a light to his day, and his guidance made her a better worker and person. he was their number one soldier.

“bobby, you’re the dad of this firehouse,” hen said.

“you did not have to do any of this,” he says. as kind of a gesture as this is, it’s making him miss his own children even more. however, he didn’t lose all of his children.

“c’mon, cap,” buck speaks excitedly. “you treat me more like a son than my real dad ever has. and you didn’t have to do that. so, open these gifts right now!”

bobby takes bucks first, stripping the bag of the paper and taking out the figure inside. it was a bobble head dressed in firefighting gear, who had similar features to bobby. “where the hell did you get this, buck?” bobby laughs and grins.

“the internet is a very big place, cap.”

“mine next!” chim yells, practically throwing his box into bobby’s arms. when he ripped the red and blue wrapping paper open, it revealed a red tumbler with captain nash on it, along with an LAFD badge above it. chimney weakly taped a picture of his face onto it. “your coffee cups are practically all falling apart, so i wanted to get you the best one out there. and i added some personalization to it,” he winks.

“thank you very much, chimney,” bobby smiles. “i’ll always think about you with my coffee from now on.”

bobby receives an extremely lavish watch from ravi, and his face drops as he opens it. it had little designs on the inside of the glass. “panikkar! how much was this?”

“oh you know, just pocket change,” he teases.

he opens the rest from eddie and hen, along with a few other gifts he received from people. he saved one of the closest for last. y/n gently handed her gift to bobby and set it down in front of him. she had curled the ribbon and wrapped it almost perfectly.

laying on top of the main gift was an air freshener for his car, shaped like a turnout jacket and an axe. it had his name on it and was his favorite scent. underneath was a board, with clear wooden writing. it wrote, captain nash, a true hero. all the names were in a circle around the quote including, diaz, buckley, wilson, han, y/l/n, panikkar. there was small pin on the inside with the word hero on it. “it’s a good luck charm, from all of us. you can wear it on your uniform or whatever you want to wear it on.”

bobby had suddenly been overwhelmed from the love he had been faced with. it was something he wanted for years, but never thinking he was worthy of something like it. a few years earlier, he was ready to leave the world after making up for his losses. when hen and buck found him knocked out from the amount of booze he’d consumed, he knew people were on his side. he was the most they could ask from a father. his eyes became glossy, but he refused to cry any form of tears in front of his crew anymore, even happy ones. he forced a strong front, but the appreciation from his kids brought down the walls.

now, bobby walks into the station every morning, the pin on one of his pockets, his tumbler in hand, a t-shirt from hen or eddie, his new watch. lastly, of course, he walked into his office to see the bobble head of himself on his desk.

he wore all of these items as much as he could, every single one meaning more to him than words. he never thought of himself as a hero, but the complete opposite. everything he is given was a gift, and represents the pure love everyone has for him. however, nothing can ever beat the true family gift of the 118.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #chimney han #911 chimney #may grant #maddie buckley #bobby nash x reader #bobby nash fic #eddie diaz oneshot #bobby nash fluff #911 fic #911 show #911 fanfic

[moonswolfie]

can u write for iwaizumi +2, 3, 7 and 8 for the event? congrats on 200 followers!

Prince!Iwaizumi x Knight!reader (gender neutral)

Thanks so much 🥰🥰

Seriously how do these anons accurately guess every fic plan i've ever had because I wanted to write a prince!Iwa x reader au for a while now😣😣 like are yall psychic i'm genuinely scared

The thing you would have least expected to happen was travelling back home in the same carriage as the crown prince. You were sent on this trip with him as a means of protection, of course. It's your job as a knight.

But knights don't usually sit with the person they're protecting.

You realise what this means for you. The royal family trusts you a lot more than you thought. You grew up during the same time as the prince, sure, but you were never super close to him, only seeing him in passing or during training sometimes.

Even so, Iwaizumi has always been a very amazing man to you. Both looks and personality wise. He is a little rough with others, but kind and strong willed nonetheless. You respect those qualities a lot, especially in a leader. Have you mentioned how attractive his muscular arms are yet?

In fact, it was about time for him to get married now. A wedding with him painted your deepest fantasies.

You know you shouldn't think of his majesty that way, as you are just a knight working for the royal family and it would be very arrogant of you to even attempt a relationship with him. So you've settled on gazing at him from afar.

The grip on the sword in your hand increased, you tried your best not to stare at him for too long. You're supposed to be protecting him, not crushing on him!

"Here is our stop for tonight." The other knights outside announced in a firm voice, the carriage stopping in front of a luxurious inn. They really are pulling out all the stops here, aren't they?

Well, you probably should have expected that the royal family spares no expense for their son. The carriage driver opens the door, and you step out first, standing to the side to let his majesty exit.

As the knights, including you, sorround him for protection while walking inside the inn, the royal advisor who was assisting Iwaizumi with the work on the trip calls you over.

"WHAT?!" Everyone in the room turned to you, and you quickly corrected yourself. "I mean excuse me, sir?" The royal advisor glared at you for a second before explaining again, now with everyone's attention on the two of you. Yet that didn't make you feel any less mortified.

You were to share a bedroom with Iwaizumi Hajime. Nobody said anything in response but you could tell by the look on Iwaizumi's face that this was not a pre-arranged matter or atleast it wasn't discussed with him. It was as much of a surprise for him as it was for you.

And so the two of you walked to your room for the night. "I'm sorry about that. It wasn't my decision." He apologised, and you immediately reassured him that everything is fine. Well, mostly.

The two of you entered your room... to find a single bed.

"I'll sleep on the floor, your majesty." you offered before he could say anything. You've slept on the dirt as a knight before, and while it wasn't the most fun, you are not about to let the prince sleep anywhere but on the bed. And besides, the clean floor is much better than dirt.

"Absolutely not." the conviction in his voice surprised you. He was that unwilling to let you sleep on the floor?

"I will go back and request another room for-" Iwaizumi walked to the door, fiddling with the door handle that looked to be stuck. "Hold on- A new room just for- you!!" the door refused to budge.

"What the hell?" Iwaizumi muttered. He isn't a weak man, and you know that well. So that must mean...

"...The door is locked." both of you came to the same conclusion, saying it out loud at the same time. You would smile at the timing, but that meant you were stuck together. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but rumors will spread and you do not want to dirty the prince's image.

"Dammit... who did this?" the door was locked from the outside, and neither of you could discern a good reason as to why someone would want you two in a room together.

An abstract assasinaton plan? But then why would they need you to be locked in for it? You're extra protection, the opposite of what an assasin would want. Are they scheming something with the royal advisor? Or are the two of you just overthinking it?

Iwaizumi sat down on the bed. "Well, nothing bad has happened so far. We can relax our guard for a bit." he stretched his neck, removing the sword from his belt and placing it on the ground.

"You can take your armor off. Wearing all that crap on you all day makes your back hurt. I would know." he said, looking off awkwardly into a random corner of the room.

He takes on a surprisingly gentle tone when talking to you. And you know that isn't the case with all of the other servants. Not because he's arrogant or overly bossy to them, but there's just this... kind, gentle undertone to his voice when talking to you.

You slowly and cautiously take off your armor, looking to him with a sense of uncertainty. He simply gave you an encouraging nod in response. Without armor, you look a lot less intimidating, or so you would like to think.

"Why are you just standing there? Join me." He tapped the bed beside him.

"But your-"

"Just shut up and join me. My reputation will be fine." Somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking, and you silently joined him by his side. He looks even more handsome up close.

You didn't even realise you were staring before his eyes met yours. You quickly looked down. It's quite embarrasing for a member of the royal guard to be so easily distracted, no?

"Um, we should get to sleep, you know?" he suggested, albeit a bit awkwardly. Despite your inhibitions, you are to follow the prince's orders and suggestions. (You definitely were not over the moon to sleep in the same bed as him deep down.)

You lay down next to eachother, your entire body stiff and too afraid to move. There's no way you're getting any sleep tonight.

Even so, you close your eyes. After god knows how long, you got a bit more comfortable, rolling over on your side, facing away from Iwaizumi. Though you still felt far away from being able to sleep. You're living every noble lady's dream right now.

You tried your best to steady your breathing, trying not to make it obvious how much this is affecting you. Agh, he's probably asleep anyways, why are you so worried?

Suddenly, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, and you had to hold back from flinching. You heard a satisfied huff behind you as his chest pressed against your back.

Eh?! Is this a dream? Is what you think is happening actually happening?

"Mm, I love you..." he mumbled, and you damn near died on the spot. You tried your hardest not to show that you're still awake, not wanting to make things awkward. And besides, with how flushed your face is right now, you worry that you might not have the confidence to adress his words anyways.

He chuckled slightly. "God, I'm such a coward..." he sighed before resting his head on the back of yours, slightly squeezing you in his hold.

You weren't going to lie, his arms were a very comfortable and warm place to be. But you had bigger issues right now.

He... loves you. Huh.

If you couldn't fall asleep before, you're definitely not sleeping now. Not with your heart beating a thousand times a minute.

.

"Was it a success?" the queen asked the royal advisor, who nodded briefly. "Well, when I checked in, they were all cuddled up, so I assume it was atleast somewhat successful."

The king huffed, satisfied with the answer.

"Ahh, the plan is going along swimmingly! We'll have that knight falling for our little Hajime in no time!" the queen clasped her hands, happy at how things turned out.

"Shouldn't we atleast apologise to them for locking them together so abruptly? They must have been scared." the king reasoned.

"And reveal our plan?! No, that won't do. And besides, you know Hajime. Being the good respectful son he is, he would just help our knight get a new room if I hadn't done this."

hahaha i'm sorry i didn't know how to include the "locked in a room" prompt realistically so i just made iwa chan's parents sneaky lil bastards

#˗ˏˋ ★ ☁︎ 「Wolfie's works」 ☾ ★ ˎˊ˗ #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #x gn reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #royal au

[99hook]

Insufferable | Part Two

Synopsis: Two people who swear they hate each other’s guts but still can’t leave each other alone.

Warnings: angst, pining, oral (female and male receiving) choking, Tyler is still arrogant and still has that filthy mouth, YN is still a smart ass who brings him to his knees. Also, jealous!hook. An injury and some blood too.

A/N: you guys really wanted this and I couldn’t resist writing it. I just wanna let you know that I read all of your suggestions for this and they’re all incorporated in this filthy fic. So I hope you enjoy and if you’re lost right now, you can read part one here! 🫶🏼

Proceed with caution cause there’s like 2 different smut scenes 😮‍💨

You had a couple of little secrets now. Things you couldn’t tell your friends no matter how bad you wanted to, simply because for the longest time you swore you hated everything about that man. You still do, but it’s a weird kind of hatred you feel towards him, now that his hands have been all over every inch of you. A kind that makes you want more reasons to despise him.

Tyler, on the other hand, finds the whole thing pretty hilarious. He spots you in the hallway and notices that you no longer look at him with that infuriation you used to, but what looks more to him like desperate desire you clearly were way too prideful to admit. You still had the faintest shadow of purple discolorations on your skin and he starts to realize how long it’s been since he had you a moaning mess in the showers.

Of course that just makes him want you all over again.

You were doing a better job than he expected you would. You haven’t even tried to shoot him a text when you’re alone at night in your room, thoughts of his body against yours running rampant through your mind. It surprised him to say the least but he knew you well enough now to know that you’re the second most prideful person on the planet, and he’s the first.

He held a smirk on his lips as he stopped in front of you, his eyes lingering to the faint marks his lips left on your skin one week prior. You felt your cheeks heat up beneath your skin and did your best not to let that show, but he already saw the red blush creeping up from your chest to your face and this only made that coy smirk spread wider.

“Can I help you?” You bit out, bringing your hair over your shoulder to hide those marks you knew he was feeling way to proud of. His eyes then met yours, and you hated the way they instantly made your heart violently pound against your chest.

“Are you avoiding me now?” He takes a step forward, lingering his eyes down your body that he would deny, but he hasn’t stopped thinking about.

“I’ve always tried to avoid you.” You snap back, watching as his dimple deepens on his cheek.

“No, not always.” He lets his hand linger out, the tips of two fingers roaming over the band of your shorts, earning chills to skate down your spine at the simplest touch. “If that were the case you wouldn’t have been moaning my name last week.”

You swallowed hard past the dryness of your throat and boldly stared into his dark, amused eyes. His fingertips trailed a line across your stomach before you felt one hook underneath the waistband, just to pull the fabric back and pop it against your skin.

“One time thing.” You managed to say, even though your voice was suddenly shakier than you wished it would’ve been. “And I already forgot about it, but thanks for the unpleasant reminder.”

His hand fell to his side but that smirk on his lips remained as he shook his head from side to side slightly. “Seems like you forgot something else” he tilts his head to the side, taking a single step closer but closing the space between you completely. “What did I tell you about that smart ass mouth?”

You were flashed right back to one of the many moments that’s been playing through your mind like a movie. Dropping to your knees so easily for him, letting him fuck your throat while tears streamed down your cheeks and reveling in all the strained sounds that he let out. You immediately felt a wetness seep into the fabric of your panties and you hated him for it.

Just then, he took a step back, his eyes adverted to something behind you, that ended up being Willow when she walked up to you. She had a little bit of a confused look on her face, just seeing Tyler standing there in front of you because from what she knew, you absolutely despised that man and most of the time you’re doing all you can do to avoid his constant banters.

But all he did was take a step back and stand there, keeping his eyes held firmly on you as you forced yourself to recollect your thoughts enough to appear like everything was normal.

“Hey girl, we were just looking for you. We didn’t see you after your match last week.” She says as she reaches over and smooths a couple flyaways fluttering around your hair.

“Yeah I went home early.” You blurt the first lie you could think of, and Tyler had to drop his head to hide the prideful smirk on his face. “I wasn’t feeling that great. Something made me sick to my stomach.” You let your eyes linger to him to make sure he caught those words, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Damn, something you ate?” Willow asked.

And that’s when Tyler cut in, ever the most arrogant man that he’s always been. “Nah, she ended up choking on something. I saw it myself.” His eyes had a mischievous gleam to them and you wanted more than anything to blacken them with your fists.

“Oh God, are you okay? Did you need like, the Heimlich Maneuver or something? Why didn’t you tell me that?” Willow asked, then she glanced over at Tyler when all you did was remain silent, simply because your veins were on fire with the rage you felt towards that cocky man.

“I was fine, it wasn’t as bad as Tyler’s making it sound. I just wanted to get back to the hotel and try to forget all about it.” You piped back up, keeping your eyes on him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright. We missed you in catering. You gonna meet us after your match tonight so we can all leave together?” She asked, and Willow always had a thing for playing with your hair while she talked to you but, that’s when she caught sight of the purple patches right below your ear, and even though you tried to hide it, she caught it before your hair was pushed back over your shoulder.

“Umm, what the fuck is that?!” She nearly gasps. “YN, you didn’t even tell us-“

“Tell us what?” Skye’s voice finds you as soon as she walks around the corner. Tyler was practically beaming now, loving the way you were getting caught up by two of your friends, exactly how he wanted it to happen.

“She has a hickey” Willow says as she points at the side of your neck.

“No, it’s a bruise.” You quickly blurted, but caught the way Tyler’s brows raised the second you said that.

“A bruise? That’s not a fucking bruise” Skye said when she gets a good look, moving your hair back with her hand. “I’m sorry but who the hell gave that to you? Was it Daniel?! You didn’t even tell us you were seeing him again.”

Tyler’s teeth clenched behind his lips when your ex was mentioned. The man just couldn’t help it.

“I’m curious too.” He chipped in, holding his eyes on yours with that agonizing look of pure pride and enjoyment. You cut your eyes at him, and he smirked back effortlessly.

“Nobody important.” You bit out, making sure you stared him down just as strongly as he was you.

“No?” Tyler chipped back in, tilting his head to the side as he leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

Skye and Willow both picked up on the tensions arising between the two of you, feeling the atmosphere shift around them.

“Nope. Just some meaningless fuck I don’t care to talk about.” Then you glanced over at the girls next to you. “It wasn’t even good.”

But that’s when tyler took a step forward and Willow and Skye both took two steps back, their eyes wide and nothing but shocked when Tyler’s fingers squeezed your cheeks and his lips lingered against your own.

“Remember what I told you? Right before I made you come all over me?” He reminds you of something you surely hadn’t forgotten, but all that was going through your mind was the way you wanted him filling you back up all over again.

Willows mouth dropped open and Skye’s eyes were as wide as the moon as they stood there, unable to speak.

“I’m not letting anyone else take credit for the way I ruined you that night, so tell them the truth, or I’ll have no choice but to prove you’re nothing but a pretty little liar.”

You held your eyes on his, your heart hammering ninety beats a minute as his lips barely grazed over yours, and when you finally were able to pull your eyes away, all you saw was willow and Skye taking more steps back with looks of confusion, shock and most of all, complete disbelief painted on their faces.

“You two hate each other?!” Skye eventually spat, staring dead at you, wondering how long they’ve been in the dark about this.

“That’s what she wanted you to think, but maybe you don’t know your best friend the way you think you do.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on you as he slid his thumb across your bottom lip.

“I-I don’t- I’m so-“ Willow stammered.

“Yeah, anyway, we have some unfinished business to take care of, so I’d get out of here if I were you.” He glances over to watch as they both give you a dumbfounded look before slowly backing down the hall.

Once they’re gone, he has your full attention again.

“I didn’t want them knowing. I didn’t want anybody to know.” You spat, taking a step back.

“I told you already, nobody else is getting my credit. Should’ve hid those hickeys with more makeup if you really wanted to hide it that bad.” He shrugged. “But I think we both know that you’re lying again. You would’ve ended up telling your little friends everything. You’ve probably been dying to.”

He was right, but you weren’t gonna tell him that. You attempted to shoot him that infamous glare you’d perfected just for him but he was completely unfazed by it at this point that all it did was make him chuckle.

“Since your little secret is out, I guess I can leave as many marks on your neck as I want to now.” He steps closer, his hands easily finding your hips as he pulls you against him.

You had to take a second to recollect your thoughts but once you did, you managed to say, “I have a match in half an hour, I can’t do this right now.”

But you felt his lips lingering against your neck the second those words slipped out and just like before, your eyes rolled back and nothing but breathy sighs came out of your mouth as you involuntarily melted into him, like pure, delicate putty in his dangerous hands.

“That’s gonna be a tough match for you” he mutters against you. “Don’t know how you’re gonna perform when you can’t even walk straight”

You clenched around absolutely nothing as his words sent shivers down your whole body. An affect you wished wasn’t so strong but unfortunately for you, it was.

You threw all caution to the wind and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, immediately giving in to him as soon as his lips latched to yours. It was filled with desperation from you both, and it was something that completely snatched the all the oxygen right out of your lungs.

He’d be lying if he said he had any control over this. All he could think about from that moment you left the shower room to now, was exactly what he plans to do next.

The locker rooms were right across the hall and that’s exactly where he pulled you to the second you detached. Despite the fact that anybody could come in at any second, all he could think about was getting between your thighs and letting your sweetness embed in his tongue all over again.

He was surprised at how easily you let him take all the control. You didn’t even attempt to make a smart remark and in a way, it was refreshing, but he also kind of missed that bantering the two of you always did.

He guided you over to the bench and slid your shorts down to your ankles before you fully sat down. Then, he was on his knees once again, eager for the sweet taste of you.

This time, he wasted no time warming up. He was impatient and he didn’t care that he was showing it. His lips locked around your clit and he started suckling pulsations against the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking aggressively over it as he watched your head hit the lockers and heard those beautiful sounds slip past your lips.

His fingers slid inside of you, finding that familiar spot that he knew made your head spin. He knew he had limited time to do this and he was wasting none of it as he used one hand to keep your thigh pinned against the bench, and the other one pumping your g-spot harshly.

“Fuck- fuck tyler that feels so good, you can’t stop” you cry out, making no effort to keep your tone minimized. He smirked against you before his lips cupped around your clit again, tilting his head to the side as he kept lapping his tongue.

“Thought you said I wasn’t good?” He teased, muttering hot breaths against your slick core. “Sounds like it feels pretty fucking good to me. Sounded like it felt good last week, too.”

His fingers pounding against your sweet spot kept you from being able to banter back, which was exactly why he slowed those pumps down to almost nothing and waited for your eyes to lock with his.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He brought that condescending edge back to his raspy voice. “You want more? Even though you said it wasn’t even good? Is that why you’re clenching my fingers this tight?”

You bucked your hips in a silent plea but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Nah, that’s not gonna work this time, angel. Need to hear you admit it. Own up to something for the first time in your life, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

You rolled your eyes and laid your head back against the lockers. You felt frustration overpowering you but especially when his fingers slowly, painfully slowly curled against your sweet spot.

“You could be coming all over my fingers right now if you weren’t so stubborn” he chuckles darkly, “all you have to do is say the word, baby, and I’ll have you seeing the stars all over again.”

He gave two more slow pumps before you couldn’t take it anymore. You nearly groaned as you arched your hips, desperate for more and breathed out, “fuck tyler, it feels so fucking good, I need more, just stop fucking teasing me, please!”

He smirked, then thrusted those fingers with a quickness that pulled an abundance of whines and moans out of you. He watched your thighs tremble and felt your walls clamping down so tight it was hard for those fingers to even move.

That’s when he rose up, his lips coming to linger over yours as he continued pumping against your g-spot. “Taste yourself.” He muttered, and as you parted your lips, his freehand snaked around your throat, gently squeezing as his tongue slipped over yours.

You felt your blood rushing to your head and that familiar dizziness that you didn’t even realize you missed so much. The taste of yourself mixed with mint lingered on your tongue and it only took three more curls of those long, slender fingers before he felt your walls pulsate and that warmth coated his whole hand.

He smirked against your lips, then pulled those fingers out as much as he wanted to toy with you a little, because he knew time was running out.

He pulled his shorts down halfway and his cock sprung free. Your eyes slightly widened when you saw it again. You somewhat forgot how big he actually was until it was proudly displayed, and you licked your lips without realizing it.

“You really do deserve this dick shoved down your throat, but there’s another place I want to put it right now.” He whispered heavily as he pulls back and picks you up, sitting himself down on the bench with you straddling him.

Your hands instinctively found his shoulders as he held his shaft, positioning himself right where he’d been dying to be before he used his other hand to hold your hip, lowering you down until you felt him in the pit of your stomach.

That familiar sting upon first contact made you moan out, but it was overpowered by his breathy sigh the second he felt your walls squeezing him with that same, hard grip that he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the last time.

He angled his hips to see just how deep he could push himself in and watched as your eyes instantly rolled back, teeth biting hard on your lower lip, so hard you’d probably draw blood in a second.

He watched you carefully as he angled his hips, slowly thrusting deeper. His brows knitted together as soon as you started meeting his thrusts halfway, and the slow, fluid motions quickly turned into harsh snaps of his hips as soon as your head fell against his shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably tight right now” he groans out, wrapping his arms tightly around your back. “Squeezing the fucking life out of me, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered at the use of the pet name that had been running through your mind for a week now. The simplest of names that made your whole body tingle.

His hips thrusted upwards and you did your best to keep up with the pace, but he was merciless. He wasn’t planning on slowing down and all you could do was hold onto him and let him take you on this wild ride, just how he wanted.

His lips latched to your neck, finding that spot below your ear that shot a blaze through your whole body. He felt your nails raking his shoulders as his teeth grazed your skin. The sounds of skin harshly slapping and wet suctions was likely filling the hallway right outside but he didn’t give a fuck about it.

He pulled back to admire the fresh mark on your neck, his hot breaths puffing against the slick skin. “Gonna be hard to hide that” he smirked, letting his lips linger against your shoulder. “Know what else would be hard for you to hide, baby?” He slides down slightly and squares his feet for leverage. “Me putting my baby in you”

He felt your nails dig deeper into his skin, knowing you wanted to banter back but you were way too fucked out to do it. “How would you cover that one with one of your little lies? Stuck with me forever, cause you just can’t seem to leave me alone for some reason.”

He thrusted harder, reveling in the way you were trying with all your might to keep your voice down. “Feels like that’s exactly what you want, baby. Feels like you’re tryna drain me right now. I always knew it. Always knew you were just dying for me to fuck you senseless.”

You pulled back, dropping your head against his. His eyes stayed intently staring into yours, loving the way you just couldn’t seem to collect yourself in the slightest.

“No control over yourself now, huh? That smart ass mouth just doesn’t have anything to say when I’m shoving my cock up your tight little pussy. You just sit there and take it, cause that’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

You tipped your head back and screwed your eyes shut. You felt his lips brush against your collarbone as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, his teeth grazing your skin as he fucked into you with a force so strong you were unable to process anything except exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Fuck tyler” you moan out, grabbing a fistful of his hair in your hand, earning a groan to reverberate through his throat. “you don’t even know how good you feel right now!”

“Oh I know, baby” he smirks, “i can feel it”

You dropped your head back down, lips parted and puffy before he crashed his into them, before pulling back slowly.

“Harder, please” you whimpered.

With that, he angled his hips more and thrusted even deeper, knocking his tip against your cervix with each push in, and it was only moments before your whole entire body was quaking, fingers trembling and thighs shaking as you arched your back and let that high power through you.

“Fuck you’re so hot when your coming on my dick, baby. So fucking gorgeous letting me fuck you senseless. Taking me like a good girl, no tears this time” he groans, rocking you through the high as his own quickly creeps up on him.

You collapse against him and he just holds you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he fucks into you a little slower, knowing how overly sensitive you probably were, but fast enough to still keep you a moaning, whimpering mess for him.

“So good for me, every fucking time. Coming on my cock like you’re supposed to, letting me fill that tight little pussy while you take every last drop. Can’t wait til my come is dripping down your thighs in the ring. Hope the cameras don’t catch that, or else your little secret is gonna be out for the world to know, not just your little friends.”

You moaned against his shoulder when you felt his cock twitch, before that familiar warmth engulfed you. His arms tightened, his hips stuttered and hot, heavy breaths were puffed out against your neck before he pushed himself all the way in, and gave two extra thrusts for good measure.

Once he slid out; you realized you were fucked. You attempted to stand but he had you by the arm to steady you the second he saw you wobble on your feet.

You glared at him, but ended up smirking instead.

“Your match is in, like, ten minutes” he tells you as he pulls up his shorts. “I’ll be watching you struggle from the viewing room. Can’t wait to see how you try to hide the fact that you just got throughly fucked backstage.”

You pulled your shorts up and shot him another look, attempting to fix your hair but you could feel the tangles and knots all throughout it.

“I would go find some make up for that neck, too, unless you just want to let the world know I’m fucking the shit out of you, in which case, I’m not really opposed to that.” He shrugs with that sly smile plastered to his lips.

“I bet you would love that.” You bite back, doing what you can manage to make yourself decent.

“I would really love it, actually.” He grins, and that’s when you shake your head as you back up towards the door.

“Never gonna happen. I need to go figure out how to hide this shit on my neck, again.”

He sits back down in the same spot on the bench he was just fucking you, and can’t help but feel prideful once again at that remark.

“There’s no point, yn. We both know I’ll just give you more next time.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped out the room, but didn’t realize it would’ve been smarter if he stepped out first to make sure nobody was around and caught you leaving the men’s locker room with fresh hickeys all over your neck.

Unfortunately your brain was a little scrambled but it was fully aligned once again when you came face to face with your ex, Daniel.

“Uh, hi” you awkwardly greeted him, stepping away from the door as if you didn’t just walk right out of the room itself.

He eyed you, then the door behind you. “Why are you coming out of the men’s locker room?” He asked, and that’s when his eyes lingered down to the fresh marks on your neck you weren’t smart enough to hide sooner. “Yn, are those hickeys?”

You could see the flash of pain strike his eyes and looked down at your feet to avoid it.

“What the fuck?!” He spat, a little louder than you wished he’d be. “You’re just going around fucking people now?! That fast?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Who the fuck are you with?!”

He tried to step around you but you moved to the side to stop him. “It’s none of your business Daniel, we’ve been done for a while now.” You tried to be gentle about it but he was evidently hurt and, probably really angry.

“A month, yn. A month isn’t that long. You’re already spreading your legs and all I’ve done is try to get you back!”

“I am not just going around spreading my legs!” You snapped, “and I don’t want to get back with you! I told you that! I-“

Right before you could finish that sentence, you heard the door creek open behind you, and you couldn’t help but to screw your eyes shut.

“Wait” Daniel pieces it all together when he sees Tyler standing behind you, his hair a wild mess, more than the usual. “This guy?! Are you fucking serious?! You told me you couldn’t stand him!”

“She lied.” Tyler piped up, stepping closer until you felt his body heat lingering against your back. “Get over it.”

Daniels eyes darkened, Tyler’s eyes narrowed, and you felt the sliceable tensions escalating.

Daniels eyes adverted back down to you, pure disbelief scattered throughout. “Everyone was right about you.” He scoffs coldly. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”

As soon as he said that, you felt Tyler brush right past you, moving you out the way before the sound of knuckles to a bone filled your ears and Daniel was sliding down the wall.

“Tyler! What the fuck!” You shout, grabbing him by the arm to pull him back.

He spun around with flames in his dark eyes, his cheeks red and splotchy. “Don’t let that stupid motherfucker talk to you like that!” He spat, his teeth gritting afterwards.

“You can’t just punch him in the face like that!” You shout back, watching as he glances over at Daniel, and the smears of blood over his busted lip. Tyler avoided you, turning to face him instead.

“Count your blessings shes here, or you’d be chewing on your teeth right now.” He pointed down at the injured man before he eyed you over, and headed down the hall. You didn’t have the time to make sure Daniel was okay nor did you now have the chance to stop by hair and makeup to cover those worsening marks on your neck, so you really wanted to scream at Tyler for that but, no time for that either.

You did your best to make yourself presentable as you raced to the gorilla. Tyler had just gotten himself comfortable in the viewing room when your music hit. He watched with a smirk as you walked out, hair an absolute mess and those hickeys so prominent against your skin.

You tried to keep your hair over your shoulders to cover them but it was absolutely no use once you stepped in the ring. The only good thing about that match was the fact that you were gonna win, and you wished you could see Tyler’s face when you do, but that was the last thing you should’ve been thinking about.

He kept his fist over his mouth to hide the smirk since there were a few others in the room with him. But he couldn’t help it. He absolutely loved the fact that you’d just gotten fucked by him and had to drag yourself out to the ring immediately after. Rocking Daniels shit was the cherry on top of the worlds tastiest cake to him, even though he was sure he’d be hearing about it later.

You felt an ache on your inner thigh when your opponent kicked you. You knew exactly why you were so sore but again, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about that. You didn’t have time to shower, obviously, so you still felt Tyler dripping out of you, and all it was doing was making you want to call this whole match off and go find him immediately.

In other words, you were fucked. Figuratively and literally.

As soon as you got the three count and secured your first win in a while, Tyler got up from the couch and headed right out the door. You took a little bit of time flaunting around the ring but not as long as you usually would have. You wanted to get off the camera as soon as you could.

You sped up the ramp and through the tunnel, rounding the corner to find Tyler leaning against the wall with a bit of a softer smile on his face.

“Congrats, it’s about time you beat someone’s ass.” He pushed himself off the wall and you shot him a daring glare as you kept walking. “How was that match? Looked like you were struggling a little bit.” He chuckled, and you felt that wetness seeping into the fabric of your panties once again. Just his voice, for some strange reason, did unspeakable things to you.

But you managed to force past that as you kept heading down the hall, aiming to go straight to the showers, alone this time.

“You know you really hurt Daniel?” You snapped when you came up to the doors. Tyler’s brows knitted together and a look of sudden annoyance played on his face like you hadn’t seen before. “And I think you should apologize.”

He sarcastically laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s never gonna happen, yn. He disrespected you, remember? Why are you even defending him right now? He called you a whore.”

“He was hurt cause he still loves me, and I don’t blame him for that.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched his eyes narrow.

“So that makes it okay that he disrespected you like that? Just because the dude is still in love with you? Nah, I don’t play that shit. He’s lucky I didn’t break his neck, honestly. He should be thanking you for that.”

You stared back into his fired up eyes, unable to speak when he took a step closer, like always. That affect he had on you was probably eternal at this point. In this lifetime and the next, you’d most likely always be putty in his hands.

“Are you still in love with him or something?” He asked, sliding his tongue over his plump lips as he eyed you with skepticism evident.

“No.” You honestly admitted, holding his stare.

“Then why are you so upset with me? I defended you, cause you clearly weren’t gonna do it yourself.”

You clamped your mouth shut when you realized that he wasn’t lying. He did defend your honor but you didn’t expect it.

He watched your face soften. Those piercing eyes rounded out and your hands fell to your sides as you stared up at him.

“Exactly.” He eyed you over when you said nothing more. You sighed and looked over at the door, remembering the shower you desperately needed. Tyler took a step back, as if he could read you mind. He turned the knob and pushed the door opened for you, but he didn’t step in after.

Part of you wanted him to but, even though he fucked you senseless less than two hours prior, you were too hesitant to ask. He nodded before he closed the door behind him, leaving you standing there with a million thoughts rushing through your head.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror and noticed just how dark those patches had gotten on your neck. Your finger roamed over them and you winced at the sting, but it was nothing but a reminder of those moments with him.

You couldn’t even shower without having the images of the two of you attack your mind. It’s all you were thinking about since the first time he touched you and you couldn’t even fight it.

You stood there as the water cascaded down over your sore body, thinking solely about his hands gripping your hips. Flashing back to the moment like it happened just a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but remember all the sweet nothings he whispered when he was trying to get that high to sky lengths.

All the times he called you baby, for some reason just won’t stop replaying in your mind and the weird sensations that it brings just keep getting stronger the harder you try to fight against it.

You knew it from the very first time you felt something ignite for him and only him. If he ever got his hands on you, you’d be addicted, and like addiction tends to creep up on people, snatching them when they least expect it, so did he to you.

You’ve never craved another man’s touch quite like this. There was no justification for it. You just simply wanted him every time you remembered his lips on yours. It was nearly impossible to fight, which is why you ended up in the locker rooms earlier but, at what cost? The man you spent so much time trying to hate is quickly becoming your greatest weakness.

You sighed as you stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around you, tucking it tight so it stayed clasped. The locker room was just one over so you weren’t worried about it anyway, that was until you stepped out and heard Tyler’s voice a little ways down the hall.

Turning around, you spotted him leaned up against the wall talking to some girl you didn’t even recognize. His eyes found yours but only for a second before he gave her his attention again, a wide and toothy grin on his face.

You suddenly felt rage like you hadn’t before boiling over and did your best not to show it, but when you watched her fingers trace the cross on his neck, you had to get away immediately.

You closed the door behind you and threw your clothes down on the bench. You had a million and one thoughts running through your mind and they all consisted of him. He saw you watching him and didn’t make an effort to even try to hide that cocky ass grin on his face.

You made quick work at throwing some sweats and a t-shirt on but as soon as you stepped back out in the hallway, they were both gone. The first thing you thought was him taking her to the shower room, or the locker room or wherever else he thought about.

It was enough to make your whole entire body buzz with anger and the best thing you could do was get out of that arena before you made an absolute fool of yourself.

And as much as you knew you had no solid ground to stand on, because you and Tyler were absolutely nothing but two people who randomly fucked a time or two, you still found yourself unable to control the questions that kept buzzing around your brain that he absolutely needed to be asked so, at midnight, after your intrusive thoughts got the best of you, you knocked on his hotel door.

He opened it with hair wildly disheveled, no shirt and sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips. He looked a little taken back to see you standing there but he knew exactly why you had those rosy red cheeks and fiery eyes to match.

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quipped, and watched as he shook his head and opened his door wider. To you, he looked like he just got hands ran all through his hair and that thought alone was making your stomach coil.

You slowly stepped in and eyed him before you glanced around his room, looking for the signs that someone else was in here but, no woman’s clothes or pieces of jewelry were anywhere to be found.

You heard the door softly shut and turned to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest as he walked over to you, holding that smirk you wished you really had enough hatred to slap right off of his face.

“What’s got you all fired up?” He asks, knowing good and well what it was but he really just wanted to hear you say it. Then maybe he would admit that he had that all planned out the entire time.

“I’m not.” You blurt, glaring at him. “I just wanted to-“

“Wanted to what? See if I was fucking her?” He stepped closer, tilting his head like he always does when he tries to read right through you, which was becoming way easier now that you finally let your guard down.

“Who was she?” You retaliate, watching his lips tip upwards once more.

“A friend.” He chuckles before he brushes past you, making his way back over to his bed.

“A friend?” You repeated. “Didn’t look like she was a friend.”

“Well, she is.” He shrugged as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “No reason for you to be jealous.” He smirked.

“I’m not jealous.” You rapidly spat back. “But you just fucked me not even two hours before you were basically eye fucking her!”

He shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair. “You sound pretty fucking jealous to me.”

You felt your cheeks burning when he looked back up at you with those amused eyes. He loved everything about this back and forth shit and you knew it, but you just couldn’t fight against it. Secretly, you loved it too. You just hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Don’t you know by now that if you want to fuck me, all you really have to do is say that?” He chuckles lowly, holding his hands out on each side, which felt like an invitation you were dying to accept but, you stayed with feet practically nailed to the floor.

“Haven’t I shown you I’m a pretty willing participant?” He smirked. Having way too much fun with your anger at the moment.

“Willing participant?” You repeated those words. “More like the one who begs for it.”

That’s when you watched the corner of his mouth slide up with a gleam in his dark eyes you recognized all too well.

“No baby, you’re the one who begs. Remember?” He stands up, but you’re so caught off guard by the use of the pet name he only ever called you in the act. Before you realize anything else, he’s standing right in front of you with not even a centimeter of space between.

“Or do you need a reminder?” His hot breath fans over your lips before you feel his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, and just like before, you’re fucked all over again.

His lips land on yours and you feel him pulling you towards the bed, but you’re so lost in the moment you don’t even realize it until your back lands on the mattress and your legs involuntarily spread wide, allowing space for him between.

Your fingers tangle up in his hair as his tongue rhythmically dances over yours and in the midst of it all you can feel his hardening bulge beneath the thin fabric of his sweats pressing hard against your inner thigh.

Once again you were in full desperation, suddenly so needy as you whimpered against his lips and he loved it. He leaned back on his knees and took a second to admire his view of you, laying underneath him with pretty puffy lips and purple marks all over your neck. He could’ve taken a picture and put it on a billboard proudly.

He slid your sweats down to your ankles and slung them across the floor before he made his way back up your body, needy and desperate himself but he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He slid some hair out your face and made sure you were looking dead in his eyes when he whispered, “If we do this again, you’re mine. No more games. I’m done playing. You win.”

You were suddenly taken back at the words that seemed more like a verbal commitment but you couldn’t even take the time to think about them when his lips latched to yours once again, but so much slower this time. So much more passion emitted that it was rather undeniable.

Your head was nearly spinning when he pulled back and waited for your eyes to flutter open.

“All mine.” He breathlessly muttered, rubbing his thumb over your lip. “This.” He said, before he roamed that hand down to your aching core, just barely grazing your clit with the pad of his fingertip. “This.” He added, then he brought that hand right back up, snaking it around your neck, making your eyes roll back instantly. “This, too. You’re all mine.”

Even if you thought about objecting, you wouldn’t have been able to. You felt him applying that slight pressure and it had your cheeks flaming immensely. His lips collided with yours once again as strained moans got lost somewhere within his mouth, before he let go of your neck and grabbed himself instead, gliding his tip over your drenched cunt before he pushed in without a single warning.

“Oh my God” you gasped out, your head lifting from the pillows. Eyes caught his as he pushed himself all the way in and held himself there, allowing you a minute to adjust like he typically did before he slowly pulled back out of you halfway, and pushed in once more.

Your head fell back against the pillows again and his fell to your shoulder, low grunts and heavy sighs being muffled by your skin as he rocked into you, but not nearly as rough and rigid as the times before. His thrusts were smooth and languid, easy for you to meet them halfway as you arched your hips off the mattress, just to feel him hit as deep as he could possibly go.

“Feel so fucking incredible baby, every single time my dick gets buried in you, I swear it just keeps getting better and better.” He heavily whispered against you before he picked his head back up, resting his forehead to yours.

That gold cross bounced off of your lips with each deep push and pull of his hips, and when he leaned up on his elbows, you hooked your finger through the chain to pull him back down to your lips again.

He hummed against you, his mouth opening slightly when he felt you clenching around him.

“Fuck you’re killing me, baby. You know that? Gonna be the fucking death of me.”

You let a high moan rip through your lips when he sped up, pulling back and crashing into you with a strength that had you clawing scars all down his back. You felt his muscles flex beneath your fingertips and a low groan fly into the air when he felt those nails breaking skin.

“You like that, don’t you baby? You like when I’m rough with you. You want to be fucked like a little slut? Well, I got you.”

You were flipped over within a split second, your face pressed against the pillows as he lifted your hips and slammed into you again. Your high pitched moans were muffled by the pillow, but he wanted to hear them better.

“Nah, pick your head up and let me hear how good it feels.” His hand tangled up in your disheveled locks as he snatches your head back, fucking into you so hard you couldn’t keep from letting his name bounce off the walls.

“That’s right baby, fuck these people. Make them hear you scream my name all fucking night long.”

He was no good for you at that point. All the coaxing only made you louder. You couldn’t help it even if you tried, but you gave up that fight when he repeatedly pounded your sweet spot, making your sweet juices drip down onto the bedsheets.

“Such a good girl, always so wet and tight and ready for me to fuck you.” He groaned above you, before he folded over your body and let go of your hips. You couldn’t help but to collapse against the bed and didn’t mind it. His hand snaked beneath your stomach and made its way down to your clit, feeling your walls bear down the second he started rubbing circles over it.

“Don’t- don’t stop” was all you could manage through the broken moans and whimpers. He obliged to your plea, continuing to rock into you while his finger rubbed rotations against your clit, but his other hand found it’s way back up to your neck, wrapping around it as he turned your head to face him.

“Look me in the eyes when you come on my dick, understand me?” He demanded, and all you could do was nod as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He noticed, but this time, he didn’t say anything. His lips locked with yours and his teeth sank down into your bottom lip, pulling it back before he let it go.

You felt his finger speed up, along with those thrusts and the quick arising warmth swirling through your lower stomach each time he hit that one spot only he was ever able to. He felt you clench down, felt your body stiffen beneath him and he didn’t miss a beat.

“So fucking gorgeous” he muttered under his breath as his hips kept rocking against you. He buried himself deep, making sure you felt him filling you all the way, and judging by the sounds flying through your mouth, he succeeded at that.

“Like it deep, don’t you?” He mused before he pushed himself even deeper, earning a stinging sensation at first, before it quickly morphed into something extraordinary.

You were too fucked out, as usual and he could tell. He applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck all the while his fingers spun rapid circles over your clit and it was then that he felt your entire body quake, your walls once again sucking him right back in and holding him there with a vice grip that made his elbows tremble against the mattress.

“Look at me” he demanded, even though your eyes were fluttering, you managed. His lips were parted and puffier than usual, hair stuck to his skin and wildly spread across his forehead. He only gave you a second to glance before he couldn’t help himself and had to taste you again.

His lips collided with yours as that high powered through you, taking you and throwing your limp body into a complete bottomless pit of euphoria. The low moans that got lost from his mouth to yours were making your head spin wildly out of control but his tongue lingering around yours was somehow keeping you locked in the moment, hypersensitive to every little move he made.

You felt a rush of warmth spill out of you just as he pulled his hips back. There were drenched spots underneath you on the sheets and when he leaned back up on his knees he looked down, pretty proudly at that.

You felt his finger collecting some of the salty liquids, yours mixed with his and spread it all along your folds with a smirk plastered on his face, especially when your body jerked from the featherlight touch.

“Don’t think I’ve seen that from you before.” He said as he wraps his hands underneath your thighs and turns you over.

“What?” You asked, glancing down between your legs to see the massive wet spot taking up almost half of that side of the bed.

You glanced back at him and that proud look on his face and couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at that arrogance you were sure was permanently a part of him.

He made his way back up, placing a kiss to your forehead tenderly, which caught you off guard but you didn’t object to it.

“From now on, I’m gonna be aiming to make you come that hard.” He whispers before he rolls onto his side and turns you to face him. You felt his arm lazily drape over your hip and his fingers absentmindedly traced little circles on your lower back.

“That’s if this ever happens again” your smart mouth was brought right back and he could’ve expected that much, but again, it just doesn’t phase him. He leaned in and placed another gentle kiss to your lips, basically telling you to stop talking in the nicest way possible before he pulled you into his chest.

When you let your arm wrap around him, he let an easy smile spread across his lips, but you were tracing the new tattoo on his chest, so you didn’t see it.

“If I wake up alone in the morning, I’m coming to fuck you all over again, so you might as well stay the night with me.” He barely muttered as his face melted into the pillow.

“Is that your way of saying you want morning sex, too?” You teased, but felt those strong arms tightening around you.

“That’s my way of saying I want morning sex every morning when I wake up next to you from now on.”

#hook aew #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #hook #send hook #aew dynamite

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi’s Valentine’s Special & Follower Celebration

Dear Everyone,

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I thought, since this silly little blog hit over 1.1k followers yesterday, I want to give you something special.

First of all, though, I want to thank you. I’ve been on here since (and I checked with the archive) July 19, 2022. I can't believe that it has been almost two years. I started watching Daredevil after watching Spider-Man: No Way Home in December of 2021 and hearing Matt Murdock say, "I'm a really good lawyer," after catching a brick. So, I started watching the show, and that was during a time I was really miserable. Mentally and physically, I wasn't in a good place, but after watching Daredevil for the first time and falling in love with Charlie Cox as a genuine person and an actor, it felt like I found a reason to keep going.

I started writing fanfiction again, which I kind of neglected because I felt like this hobby of mine wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't inspired at all until I watched the show. If I hadn't, I probably would not have gotten back into writing and using it as an outlet for my feelings, and I probably wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks to Charlie's portrayal of Matt Murdock, and watching his interviews, I felt like I could do the things that I love again and follow my dreams. He's the reason I chose to major in English. And while I owe him that much, I owe you guys here on Tumblr and AO3 even more.

When I first posted here, I didn't think people would even be interested in what I had to say and write. But then more and more people started visiting my profile, you guys started following me, and it kept me motivated to keep writing, even when I'm miserable, and I sometimes only post once every blue moon.

I feel so honored that you guys chose to follow a silly little blog run by a silly little 20-something-year-old whose first language isn't even English (but made it her entire personality), and who chose to write about traumatized dark-haired characters portrayed by Charlie Cox. I'm overwhelmed by the love you continue to show me, and every time one of you chooses to reblog or comment on one of my works, saying that it resonated with you, I feel like I'm doing something right. I'm sharing my ideas, my own experiences, my wishes, and even my deepest, darkest dreams through my writing like it's a fucking diary, and you eat it up every single time.

I'm just so glad that this community exists, as chaotic as it sometimes is, and that you chose to stick around, even when I suck at keeping promises sometimes. You keep teaching me new things about who I am, my writing, and how important it is to put myself first. I don't know if you've heard it lately, but you guys are incredible and I appreciate the hell out of every single one of you.

Thanks to Tumblr, I made lifelong friends (especially looking at you, @blackshadowswriter) and found like-minded people that made me feel less alone. That alone was worth making this account and continuing to post on here.

You may think that I'm being dramatic, but for someone who has never really experienced the kind of validation this community gives me, I want to celebrate this milestone. It means more to me than I can even put into words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all so much! Please, don't ever forget how amazing you are.

That being said, I've got some exciting things planned.

The other day, I found a folder in my Docs titled "the vault". I completely forgot about it because I usually keep my WIPs in a different folder. As it turns out, I made that folder for fics that I originally never planned to post, or ones that I'd finished but wasn't happy with. It’s many, but it’s a few. Some are deeper than others. I also jotted down rough ideas and outlines last year that I stuffed in there, some of which I've actually shared with you but never started working on. Until now. And the contents of that vault are what I want to give to you now.

INTRODUCING: The Vault

6 stories from the vault. 1 bonus fic. 7 days.

I went through a myriad of emotions while I wrote these. For some, I actually bled my soul onto paper. For others, it was merely a brain fart that led to their existence. They're sad, horny, and at times angry, but some of those were originally written for me, and only me. Those that weren't started as a few sentences in a folder before I forgot they existed. Either way, I don't want them to catch dust. And I wouldn't want to share them with anyone else.

Starting February 14th, I will be posting one fic every day until February 20th. My “The Vault” works are Matt Murdock x Reader works, but I've made an exception for the bonus fic. I won't tell you what they are about, but I will give you a list of installments and what kind of fic they are so you know what to be excited about (and maybe which ones are not your cup of tea).

-> The number at the end tells you the date I will be posting it on, but I put it in chronological order as well.

INSTALLMENTS:

1. If You Need To Be Mean (angst, hurt/comfort) 14.

2. Mismatched Bridesmaid (fluff, smut) 15.

3. Weed Cookies (humor, fluff, cw: accidental drug use) 16.

4. the grudge (songfic, angst, hurt/comfort, cw: death of a parent) 17.

5. Halloween (Smut) 18.

6. I Want To Fuck A Priest (Smut, cw: priest!Matt) 19.

BONUS:

7. Now That We Don’t Talk (Part 2 of Is It Over Now?) -> Frank Castle x Reader (smut, angst) 20.

A few more words: You are free to send me an ask if you want to know more, but be prepared that I won't be answering in much detail. I don't want to spoil the fun. I would, however, not mind talking about them as vaguely as possible (if you’re interested).

Thank you all. For everything. And I hope you stick around to read these little gems.

With love from yours truly,

Lizzi <3

#lizzi writes #follower celebration #valentine’s day #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #charlie cox