#we see this in the movies. at the age she was she chose to not forgive him.

[freshlybakedfandoms]

star wars would not have worked if luke and leia had not gone to their respective adoptive families and they switched roles. luke would have been a wonderful prince, but leia could not have done what luke did. she is not as forgiving as luke and padme were. luke was able to bring anakin back to the light because he was able to forgive him and persuade him into coming back. he was able to see the good in a man who could no longer see it in himself, as padme would have/did. leia could not do that, it's not her nature. she's too similar to her father to help bring him back.

#prince luke of alderaan would have slayed but leia inherited too many traits from her father to even want to save him #we see this in the movies. at the age she was she chose to not forgive him. #obviously she grows and forgives ben but ben solo is not anakin skywalker. they made this very clear #also she's a lot older with a lot more life experience #star wars #leia organa #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #darth vader #padme amidala

[buckyownsmylife]

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ. 

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

[ieatfanficforbrunch]

Steve is Worthy

He based all his self-worth on others. He knows he got it from years of living with his parents for so long.

They were by no means rich, just rich for Hawkins. Lowest High Class if you will. With that came the constant reminder of their Reputation. His father was an Assistant Director for Coke-a-cola and, whether he liked it or not, the Harringtons were in the public domain.

Of course, that meant he had to be perfect, there was no choice.

When he was three, his father took him to a store to get a toy for his birthday. Little Steven in his kakis and a sweater vest with a collar, wanted a baby doll.

He picked one out, something perfect for him. A baby doll with dark hair and blue eyes. Its body was a cloth material, and its head, arms, and legs were plastic. It came with a bottle and a pacifier; it was everything the toddler could ever dream of.

When he picked up the toy it was ripped from his hands, his father scowling down at him.

“You know better Steven. If you want to make me proud, go find a car. Honestly, what must I have done to get a son who wants a doll?” The words brought tears to his eyes, but he knew better than to cry, he was a boy, and he needed to act like one.

When he turned seven his mother threw him a birthday party. He was grateful, ecstatic that his friends from school would be coming to see his room and his cake. He picked out the best cake in the world, a small one with delicate flowers in blue and white. It was perfect for him, soft and gentle.

His parents told him to stay in his room until 6:30, his mother specified that he needed to wear the outfit she chose for him. He waited for hours, excited at getting to celebrate his special day. When the clock struck 6:30 he took the stairs two at a time, excited to see what his mother had planned.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t see any of his friends from school, he didn’t even see any kids. There were adults from his father’s company, all with a glass in their hand. On the kitchen table there sat a small blue cake with a baseball bat on it, not a single flower in sight.

His eyes once again burned but he knew better than to cry.

“We have to keep up appearances, Steven,” his mother said, “Your friends are not good enough for you, you are no longer prohibited to speak to them. As for the cake, you know better. Flowers are for girls; you are a boy. Your father has signed you up for baseball, basketball, and the Swim team. I expect you to attend every practice.”

Steve just nodded.

For years he did everything they said, everything they wanted him to do. His mother picked out his outfits, his father found suitable friends for him. Those friends made the decisions for him, he followed along blindly. He knew that the only way he was worth anything was if he was perfect and obedient.

He would go to every event his father told him to, only date who his parents allowed, and never once did he step out of line, because when it was all over and he got an award or a date or a good grade he would be rewarded with a “well done, Steven,” from his father.

When his parents bought an apartment close to his father’s office, Steve was left to take care of the house. He was left without direction. He was free.

The first thing he did was get in a fight with Johnathan Byers, the second was kicking his friends to the curb, the third was getting broken up with, and the fourth was fighting an interdimensional monster.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he also (accidentally) became the ‘mother’ to the nerdiest kids on planet Earth.

From a young age, he learned that his worth as a person was connected to what he could give people. For these kids, he would give protection, free movies, and his life if it ever came to it.

Robin tried to help him realize his worth as Steve, but nothing worked, and then things went from bad to worse.

Steve was shell-shocked, to say the least, as he carried Eddie’s limp, bleeding body through the upside down. He was desperate, Desperate to make himself useful, desperate to save his new friend and lover, he needed to be useful.

He got Eddie out of the Upside down, to a hospital, and in the care of the only people who could help him. Then, he waited.

He didn’t get treated, couldn’t, wouldn’t, because one of the kids may need that help, or the earthquake victims, or anyone who wasn’t him.

Robin could only sit by and watch, knowing that Eddie was the only person who could convince Steve that he was worth enough to get his wounds treated.

Eddie woke up 6 days later to Steve holding his hand.

The lights were bright, the sounds were loud, and everything was cold. Everything except Steve. His skin was like fire against his.

Eddie blinked slightly, glancing around the room. Wayne was in the corner, sleeping in some terrible chair, Dustin was asleep on a tiny cot next to the bed, and Robin was leaning up against the wall.

“What happened…?” Eddie asked her.

Robin sighs, “Your Stevie here carried you out, got you to a hospital. The doctors said you should heal with minimal damage, but it will take a couple of weeks…”

Eddie nods, asking, “Is he…okay?”

Robin pinches the bridge of her nose, a habit she picked up from being around Steve so much, “He’s refusing treatment, says the supplies need to go to people who actually need it…I think the wounds are getting infected…”

Eddie sighs softly before gently shaking Steve’s shoulder.

“Stevie…Baby, wake up, it’s time you go to the doctor,” Eddie whispers.

Steve grumbles softly before opening his eyes. A smile spreads across his face as soon as he sees Eddie. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Eddie pulled Steve to his chest. The embrace was anything but silent, sniffles, escaped sobs, giggles, and even ‘I missed you’s are shared between the two.

Eddie doesn’t let Steve leave his chest as he talks, “Ok Stevie, time to get those bites taken care of…yea? Scars are Metal, dying because of infection…not so much.”

Steve looks up at him, prepared to protest, but Eddie shushes him, getting a bitchy glare from Steve.

“Come on Baby, please. You are so important to me, and I need you to get better, ok? I don’t care if you think those people need it more, you not only helped save the world, but you saved my life. Do you understand? No one in this world deserves to be patched up more than you,” Eddie whispered, cupping both Steve’s cheeks.

Silent tears stream down his face and he reluctantly nods. Robin immediately runs to get a nurse.

“You are my everything Steve, my entire world. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. You are Worth Everything. Ok? Everything,” Eddie says, gently kissing Steve’s cheek, then his other cheek, then his forehead, then his chin, then his nose, and finally his lips.

Steve smiled, getting the treatment he not only needed but deserved. He was moved into Eddie’s room where he was showered with love, affection, and encouragement. He felt happy, he felt loved, and, most importantly, he felt worthy.

#eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie the banished #stranger things #eddie x steve #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #wayne munson

[yorshie]

APPY SLICES

Bayverse turtles x fem reader

Turtle fluff, kinda petty jealousy, nothing sexual

Second Person, no Y/N.

Inspired by a pinterest post I saw about having an office turtle and the punch line was "does the big man want his appy slices?" and it just snowballed from there

Aged up turtles

APPY SLICES

Second View Person, Nicknames no Y/N

Your first vacation in a year, and you were stuck with a house guest for part of it.

Well, sort of a house guest.

You stared at the blue, plastic kiddie pool taking up half of the living room, shoved between your TV and the L shaped desk you used as a work space. A sandy colored shell was moving slowly around as Romeo explored his temporary digs, the large tortoise taking everything in with long, slow blinks.

“Boy, does your mother owe me one,” You informed him lowly, shaking out tired arms that still ached from carrying the large cat carrier up the stairwell. “Though, I guess she should be worried you won’t wanna go home on Monday. After all,” you leaned down, watched as Romeo turned those large, multicolored eyes in your direction, “I seem to have a growing collection of turtles.”

He let out a loud huff, the air whistling through his nostrils, and you snorted. “Sorry, tortoise, though I’m pretty sure the rest are turtles.”

He turned back to ignoring you, making slow movement towards the heat lamp you had attached to the back of a stool and swung over a part of his pad.

You hummed, watching him, then glanced over at your phone when it dinged from the couch.

Orange Crush: Hey babycakes, we still good to come get you after patrol? Donnie got ahold of that movie you wanted to see.

Uh oh. You bit at your nail absently, thinking, then typed back:

You guys are welcome to stop by, but I might have put a snag in movie night. I’ve got a house guest I have no idea what to do with.

You hit send, waited a beat, then hit accept before it even rang, expecting Leo’s name.

“Everything good?”

You decided not to comment on the speed dial. “Yea, everything’s fine. I’ve just… got a house guest.”

A beat of silence, “are you in danger?”

You frowned, stared across the room at Romeo, then had a light bulb moment as you replayed what was said. “Oh, god, Leo, no I’m fine. This isn’t a ‘help, there’s someone in my apartment’ type of thing.”

“Well that’s good,” he breathed, and you could hear his dry humor creeping in, “Though you almost gave Raph a heart attack just now.”

“Spiders almost give Raph a heart attack,” you deadpanned back. “But seriously, I’m just babysitting a pet for a friend. Um… actually.” You squinted at the tortoise sunning himself. “Don’t- don’t be weird when you guys get here.”

A longer beat of silence. “O-kay.” The word was drawn out. “We’ll be over in ten.” He hung up before you could squawk about cutting their patrol short, and you was left holding the phone comically to your ear.

Romeo chose that moment to let out a questioning chirp, his beak opening and clicking shut, and you turned your attention back to him. “Hm? You hungry, big boy? Let me go get your food.”

You got Romeo his salad, watching with slight amusement as he once again slowly moved toward the plate of offerings next to his sunken water bowl, high pitched chirps coming from him as he started to eat.

A light tap at your window pulled your attention, and you crawled over the couch to unlock the window, letting Leo do the heavy lifting to actually get it open.

“Heeeyyy,” You said, smiling brightly, trying to block the view behind you while leaning against the frame.

Leo rolled his eyes, “hey yourself. You gonna let us in?”

You pursed your lips, looking over the four of them crammed onto the fire escape, Donnie half hanging off the railing as he avoided Raph’s shell. You held up a finger threateningly. “Don’t be weird.”

You heard Raph scoff as you moved to press against the couch cushions, letting them step in over the furniture. “‘Don’t be weird’ she says to the mutant turtles.”

“Uh.” Leo pulled up short, one foot still on the couch, letting Mikey bounce off his shell as he noticed the kiddie pool.

Romeo looked up from the salad, took in the towering turtles staring back, and let out a low grumble that somehow managed to thrum through the room.

“Wow. That’s impressive.” You popped up on the couch, leaned over the arm, watched as the four turtles spread out a little, all still watching the kiddie pool.

“Sheesh, that’s nothing, babycakes,” Mikey said over his shoulder as he backed to the side to perch on the couch next to you, baby blues fastened on the tortoise like he’d disappear if he blinked. “That little rumble ain’t got nothing on Raph in the morning.”

“Huh. Really?” You glanced at the red turtle, but he shrugged, moving towards the kitchen counter and the cans of soda you’d set out while waiting for them.

“It ain't nothin special, sweetheart. How long you watchin mr. grumpy pants?”

Leo still hadn’t moved from his spot half on the couch, and with a huff Donnie pushed past him, the only one to take a step closer to the kiddie pool and crouch down to get a closer look.

“I have Romeo until Monday morning.” You tried not to sound too intrigued with what was happening, or not happening, but you probably failed judging by the quick look Raph threw your way, slight smirk curling his mouth as he watched you peer between Romeo and Donnie.

The tortoise had one eye on Donnie and the other on Leo, his head swiveled to the side to keep them both in sight as the ominous grumble sounded once more.

“Oh, goodness.” Donnie chuckled, perched as close to the plastic lip as he could get without touching the tortoise’s turf.

Raph whistled, long and low, as the noise lowered deeper until it was a threatening burr. Romeo snapped his beak at the sudden noise from Raph.

“Ok. What’s happening?” You asked, looking from Mikey to Raph for answers.

Mikey winced, fingers drumming out a fast staccato on his bent knees, so you turned your question to Raph, who simply shrugged.

“Donnie,” you whined, and heard him hum in answer. “What’s with the weirdness?”

“Oh, well, I suppose we’re making him a little uncomfortable.” He supplied, twisting around to address you from over Leo’s hip. Romeo let out an angry hiss, and Donnie swayed back out of sight. “Oops.”

“Now you done it,” Raph joked. “Touched the big man’s pool.”

“So I should have coached him instead of you guys?” You smirked, the notion that the bigger turtles were all being trash talked by Romeo amusing.

“Eh, probably wouldn’t have changed much,” Donnie chirped back at you, pulling another threatening beak snap from Romeo.

Raph chuckled. “Careful, Don. He might think you’re after his girl.”

“Oh so now I’m part of the problem?” You put as much sarcasm into the query as you could, moving to sit up on the couch, swaying into Leo’s space.

“Sure.” Leo answered, finally moving his foot off the couch as you brushed against him. “Bunch of big ugly rivals come into his place, touch his home, chirp at his girl. I’d be pissed too.”

“Would you?” You tried not to sound too amused, hand coming up to press against your mouth at the uptick in Leo’s cheek even as his gaze was kept on the tortoise. “So is he gonna get even more cranky if I leave with his ‘rivals’?”

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Raph pushed away from the counter, snapped his fingers under Donnie’s glasses. “Genius, quit harassing the poor dude. He’s stuck in a pool, we get to go watch a movie with his girl. Don’t rub it in.”

“Pretty sure I’ve known you guys longer than him,” You kicked out at Raph playfully as he passed close, connecting with his thigh and making him sway to avoid the pressure. “Think that makes him the interloper.”

“Ah, ok, I see how it is, you’re our girl. You want us to avenge your honor, teach this creep a lesson?” He jerked his head toward Romeo, grabbing your foot with ease as you went to kick at him again. You let out a quick giggle, jerked your foot away from his grip, leaning towards Mikey for protection as Raph made a grab for your retreating foot again.

“Hey, it’s all good babycakes, I’ll hide you from your loverboy’s rival.” Mikey lifted his arm, flashing the charm as he let you wedge yourself between his shell and the couch, feet tucked in the cushions where the larger brother couldn’t reach.

“We better get going before we rile your house guest up even more,” Leo commented, ignoring the playful banter as he stepped sideways out of Raph’s way. “You have everything you need?”

You hummed, twitching further behind Mikey as you felt the youngest brother’s fingers reach back and ghost your far side. “My bag’s in my room. Obviously, I’m gonna have to come check on Romeo tomorrow, but I think he’ll be ok for the night.”

“Especially if he doesn’t have to deal with us,” Donnie added, straightening and stepping around the pool to head down the short hallway leading to your room.

“Oh, shoot, hold on. Can’t forget.” You popped out from behind Mikey, wildly grabbing onto Leo’s arm to steady yourself as you overcorrected on the couch cushion. His forearm tensed under your hand, giving you something steady to push off of as you headed for the counter.

As you turned around with an apple and a knife, Mikey gasped. “He gets appy slices?”

“Yup, every Friday.” You responded, not looking up as you carefully started cubing the fruit.

“He’s get a treat after being an ass?” Raph sounded incredulous, and you blinked, looking up finally to find all three staring at the apple in your hand.

You took in the various looks of envy and mild offense, and reached behind you for the bag with the rest of the apples. “Do… do you guys want some?”

Donnie rounded the corner at that moment, stopped so hard his shoe squeaked on the floor. “He gets appy slices?”

“O-kay.” You pulled the word out long and slow, conscious as they tracked you and the dish of apple cubes across the room to the kiddie pool. It had to be your imagination, but Romeo almost looked smug as he hurried over for the treat you set down.

Behind you, Raph made a noise of disgust deep in his throat, and you fought to keep the smile from your face as Mikey echoed the sentiment.

“I promise,” You rose and turned to face them, “I will bring the whole bag and make you guys as many appy slices as you want tonight.”

Raph took the few steps to the kitchen, grabbed the bag of apples, and crossed back over to the couch and window. His brow raised as though daring you to laugh as Mikey opened the glass and hopped out onto the fire escape.

You fought it successfully until Leo purposely bumped into you, a gentle reminder to get moving, and you followed Donnie out into the chilly air, careful as you pulled yourself over the edge of the window.

Donnie offered you a hand, grip cool and firm as he tugged you up the flight of stairs and passed you off to Raph, whose arms you curled into as he picked you up effortlessly.

“Where’s Fearless?” He asked, stepping up to glance back over the edge, and you gripped tighter as the buildings swelled down to meet the street.

Leo stuck his head out of your window as though summoned, taking a moment to close the latch before he scaled up to where the others were waiting. At Raph’s questioning look, he huffed, the lights catching briefly on his teeth.

“Just reminding Romeo down there that he’s only a house guest.”

You blinked, your face going loose with shock, “Leonardo, did you growl at that poor tortoise?”

The only answer you got was a smug smirk, and Mikey’s bright belt of laughter.

Much later, in the lair, you sat slumped in the middle of the couch, fingers sticky as you peeled yet another apple. You didn’t even bother to lean forward as you offered a slice over the edge. You weren’t sure how they knew it was there, the only light coming from the soft jewel tones of the older movie on the big screen, but the slice was always accepted, much larger fingers grazing your palm the only indication. 

You smiled, and cut off another slice.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #bayverse leo #bayverse leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #bayverse donatello #bayverse donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse mikey #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse turtles x reader #tmnt reader insert #yorshie fanfic

[deadpool15]

Sugarbaby vibes ✨️

I walked out of the fitting room wearing the shit Chanel set. Let's be honest I looked to fucking die for, but once I saw the price it looked mid. Of course I wanted it and speaking of price it's Chanel what did I expect. If anything I suggested, let's go thrifting, as you can tell I didn't grow up with money. I'm still trying to get used to living this life now, it's crazy hoe just last week I was struggling to afford a pack of fucking Ramen at the convenience store and now I live in a penthouse. Your girl did, in fact, come up in life. You all better be proud. All thanks to the one and only Bada Lee.

Bada is about 28, and I'm 22, so there is a slight age gap if you care about any of that. Shit I didn't. I just needed someone to pay my bills. How we met it quite an interesting story if you think about it, I mean, I didn't sign up for a sugar mama like on the weird ass movies or stories you see on Wattpad. I was, in fact, working as a waiter in this high-end restaurant with might I add a shitty pay. Why are we serving all this expensive ass shit and in only getting made a few bucks in an hour? It's giving slavery, and not mentions my boss who, like most men, convince himself within the 3 minutes of hiring me that I was destined to be his furtre wife and the mother of his children as he call it. If you wanted to know what crazy looks like, we'll Mr. Kim is a prime example.

But we are getting of topic. See, I don't wanna tell you about my overly obsessive ass boss. I wanna tell you about the women who turned my life around. Serving tables is absolute shit, especially when no matter how rich one is, they never tip. "Hey Blue, bossman says he needs you at table six." I turned around to my partner in crime, Leslie. I'm happy to see her until I realized what she said, "I'm on break, though, like all these people around here . Can't he bother someone else." She gave me a sad smile and shrugged, "no, you know he likes to watch you suffer, because he expects after a while you will give in and let him take you out on a date." I stare at her with disgust.

"Yea, never mind your you're right. I'll take my chances with the wolves again. I'm just get going. If he asks again, make sure to tell him I chose getting screamed and yelled at my rich elderly woman over acknowledging his existence. " I hurried and jog off before she could say anything, grabbing my notepad and pen out of my pocket I had towards table six. With the biggest fake smile on. The love I have for these customers is crazy.

I stand there saying my usual line in the most chipper voice one can muster, whiteout even looking at the person sitting down in front of me. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm blue and very happy to serve you tonight. So what can I get, you folks?" I hear someone speak before muttering something about how I'm pretty, then I finally gather the courage to look up and see a group of women. All dressed to perfection, clothes tailored just to fit their figure. Those majority of them look around my age or slightly older. After a moment of being caught in a daze while overanlyzing them, I turn to her the tallest one of the bun speak up. "I would like to have a water to drink and just some shrimp pasta."

I make eye contact with her and my God. This is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life. It almost feels like i should have to pay a fee to look upon her face. My stare moves down to her lips and not e how nice and pump they are. I would kill to suck on those lips, to feel what they tasted like even. I realize I've just been staring at her while the rest of the women have spoken uo about their order already. "Oo, I'm s-so sorry." I state being an absolute nervous wreck while looking down at my notepad. I hope she didn't notice that. "It's fine, sweetheart," I heard the girl that was referred to ad Lusher somewhere in the conversation state to me. I hurry up and excuse myself to go get their orders. She keeps staring at me, bitting the inner part of her check. Eventually, they leave after a while, leaving a $200 tip for me. I almost couldn't believe it. This I'd the first time someone has ever given me that much money as a tip.

After a while, the girl continues to come to our little restaurant. Same table, same confidence aura and everything. She makes it seem as if she is trying to just get something to eat. We continue to see each other even after work. She would pop in on my breaks, and around the time, I would clock out. She was intimidating. I'll get her that. I spoke with class, and her vibe just let you know she had money. And it seemed she had her eyes on a certain girl. Me. Though, after beating around the bush, Bada told me exactly what she wanted. "I want to take care of you. You'll never have to worry about a single thing when you're with me. Or lift a finger. Give you the life you deserve, baby. I mean, you are a cute little waitress, but you can be so much more. Why waste your time when you have me. Just say the words, and I'll take care of you."

Some might've immediately said yes, and to be honest, I would've to. Until Bada told me there were rules. Which did kinda throw me off a bit. I mean, I thought I had the whole idea down until well, I realized I didn't. It wasn't just about the money it was the pleasure. How much would she give me, and fuck did she give me a lot. Well lived by only a few rules, but Bada took them very seriously.

Rule 1: Don't question anything

Rule 2: Don't talk back

Rule 3: Don't touch yourself

You should've seen the look on my face when I heard the third rule, I mean, at the bright age of 22, who the hell doesn't masturbate. Literally made no sense to me until she tried to explain it further. "I give you pleasure. I'm the only one who should be touching you. I'm general baby. You belong entirely to me. That's how this works. Therefore, you shouldn't be doing anything without my permission cupcake." After finally going over the terms, I agreed in the end. At the end of the day, I was a broke college student who desperately needed the money, and Bada just so happens to be the sexy older one willing to give it to me. In a sense, I was happy with my current predicament. My life was going well. Now, back to what I was saying earlier.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I forget that I can look this good. "Yea, ayye, get it, girl." In the process of hyping myself up, I finally hear a voice speak up from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me. "I'm glad you like it, baby. It does look good on you, I told you I have an eye for beautiful things. I mean, just look at my baby girl." She says while holding on to my waist, kissing my neck slowly. I smile for a while until I realize what she is doing. "Baby, we are in public, a fitting room at that. We aren't doing that here," I say, trying to be firm while avoiding her glaze in the mirror.

"What did I tell you about saying no to me, huh? Do you make the rules?" She forcefully grabbed my chin when she caught on to the act. She grabs my breast while still making eye contact with me in the mirror. "That's right, just stand right here, ok? Gonna be my good girl, right?" I stare at the door, thinking about the people outside that will hear us. While I'm thinking about them, Bada moved the hand that was holding me under my top, slowly circling my right nipple. "Gonna be good, right?" She asks again,she never has enough patience to ask again. It seems she is being nice today. I nod my head at her question this time.

"Word babygirl, I need to hear you. Let them hear you. Just stop all that thinking for me." I whimper at her words. Finally, forgetting about the staff in the store. She moves her hand down my body, teasing me with her pace. "P-please, I'll be g-good. Gonna be so good for you." She smirks, looking down at my face before moving her hand towards my soaked pussy. "Always so f-fucking good for me, aren't you? My precious little baby. Just needs to be filled, like always." I look into her eyes in the mirror about to answer her before she insert a finger into me, all while still playing with my breasts. She knows my body like the back of her hand. Doesn't even have to try to find the spot.

"Yea, right there, come on. I can't hear you, baby girl." I know exactly the game she is playing at, but I can only stand there moaning like a bitch in heat being held on my weak jelly-like legs as she adds two more fingers. While she grinds her hips into me, fuck those bloody dancers and there hips. "Y-yes y-yes... shit o fuck right there". She just smiles at my reactions. Assuming to her if anything. "Were gonna buy this little outfit, then I'm gonna by 28 fucking more just to fuck the shit out of you in them. And you gonna let me, aren't you?. Gonna take it like a good girl who just needs her holes filled, right?" I shake my head, screaming yes over and over again while nodding profusely. Seems that's the only word my brain can come up with as she starts to suck down on my neck leaving marks while circling my clit with her thumbs. And she still continues to thrust those same three fingers in and out of me ob command.

"Fucked you dumb, aww that's adorable baby. But we just started, " She says while smirking, and I stare at her in a mix of fear and pleasure. "Now open those legs wider for me, baby girl."

#swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee #bada lee x reader

[alotofpockets]

Midnight meeting | Kate Bishop

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Spider-Woman!Reader

Summary: After not being able to help a civilian in need, you decide to clear your head in a dimly lit park. You didn't expect to see anyone at this hour, especially not your Avenger coworker Kate. [Full request]

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

All you ever wanted to do was help people, so when you got these abilities, you put them to good use. Spider-Woman, that’s the name the media chose for you. And when people started to see more and more of what you were doing, they proclaimed you The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Woman. You lived by this status, so when you weren’t able to help people like they expect you too, it’s hard on you.

Sadly, tonight was one of those nights. You had already changed back into your regular clothes, not feeling worthy of wearing the Spider Suit that Tony had made for you. Going home didn't feel right, and going to the Compound felt even more wrong. That's why you were walking around a park at 11pm. 

It had been a while since you had seen people around, so when you heard a voice call out to you, it scared you at first. When the person came closer, you recognized her from the Compound. "Y/n, right?" You nod your head, not really in the mood to have a conversation with someone you barely know. The woman continues nonetheless, "Kate, Kate Bishop. I've seen you at the Compound right?" You nod again. "What are you doing out here so late?" She asks. It's the first open question, so you won't be able to nod your head in response. "I could ask you the same thing." 

Kate laughs at your response, "You're right. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk. Your turn." You quietly say, "I messed up." A frown makes its way onto Kate's face. "What happened?" The tears start forming in your eyes. "I wasn't fast enough, I couldn't save him. He's dead because I wasn't fast enough." You tell her how you went straight to the location the notification told you, and that when you got there the dying man's wife was crying by his side. He had suffered a heart attack and help wasn't fast enough to bring him back.

Kate is quick to reassure you that you didn't do anything wrong. "You did everything you could, it's not your fault. You got there before the paramedics did. You were there first, there was nothing anyone could have done." Kate places a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to emphasize her words, and even though you don't know her well, your emotions get the better of you and you break down in her arms.

She holds you while you sob in her arms. When you feel like you've cried all your tears you step out of her arms and thank her. You look her in the eyes, expecting judgements or pity, but instead you see compassion and understanding. Kate took you by the hand and guided you to a nearby park bench. You talk about anything and everything, until you feel raindrops falling from the sky. 

"Come on, I’ll walk you home." Kate says. She sees the hesitation on your face and is quick to offer a second option, "Or we could go to my place? I live above a pizza place, so we can have some food, and maybe after we can watch a movie. How does that sound?" You nod, "Sounds good, I don't really want to be alone tonight."

As promised Kate bought a pizza to share before heading up to her apartment. You ate it while watching your comfort movie. She made sure you had enough blankets and pillows to spend the night on her couch, which you were very grateful for. The next morning she made sure you had some breakfast before you both had to head to the Compound for combat training. 

When you arrived at the compound together, everyone's eyes were on you. No one said anything, but they were glad that you had found each other, whether that was as friends or more. The two of you were around the same age and were from similar backgrounds, the team didn't want to force any relations but they had high hopes for the two of you connecting. 

Kate didn't leave your side at any point. When she wasn't your partner during the exercise, she made sure to be next to you. She was making sure you were alright, especially after you told her that you didn't want to be alone. It was comforting to know that there was someone in your corner. 

The only moment that she wasn't near you was when Natasha took you aside. Kate wanted to follow, but you told her it was okay. "Hey malen'kiy pauk [little spider], I noticed Kate keeping an eye on you the whole morning and I just wanted to check if everything is okay." You smiled at the nickname.  

She had told you that since the day that Tony had brought you to the Compound, it gave you a sense of comfort. "Yeah, I'm okay. Something happened last night, and Kate was there to help me and take care of me. Thank you for looking out for me, Nat." Natasha nods, "Of course, if you need anything let me know, okay?" You let her know that you will before heading back to training. "Everything okay?" Kate asks between punches. "Yes, all good. She just wanted to check on me."

When the training is over you desperately need a shower. You walk up to Kate, "Do you have plans today?" You ask her. "Not really, probably just hang around the compound for a bit." You take her phone from her hand, add your number to her contacts and send yourself a text before handing her phone back. "Text me when you're ready? I'll come pick you up." 

And so she did. You picked her up from her room and took her down to the game room. You spend the rest of the afternoon playing all sorts of games on the big screen. Clint and Natasha smiled when they heard your laughter coming from the game room as they walked by, they instantly knew that the two of you were going to be okay.

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a tip. Funds will be used to see my (long distance) girlfriend. 💗 

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate hawkeye #kate bishop fic #marvel #marvel imagine #kate bishop imagines #kate bishop imagine

[itsharleystuff]

↳ II. 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘋

Read part one here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (once again, I’m sorry)

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after your steamy encounter with Joel during your homecoming party, things between you have been stagnant. Although, fate seems to be on your side when both Sarah and your dad have to leave town for a short while.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, Joel hits it from behind, blowjobs, some teasing, a bit of spanking, pet names (darling, sweetheart, honey), unprotected sex (pls do not attempt), cum eating, taking nsfw photos, Joel tries to be dom but fails, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), reader is kind of a brat, fluff and feelings (yes, this is a warning), alcohol consumption, brief mention of family death. Barely edited, sorryyy. No use of y/n.

—A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone but I suggest reading the previous part for a better understanding. Btw, there’s a couple of Easter eggs from the game in this! Also— I tried making a moodboard and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’ll probably stick to gifs in the future, lol.

“I like Indiana Jones," you babble, taking a sip from your coffee without looking at anyone in specific. "I was twelve and in love with Harrison Ford..."

"Okay, so that's one movie we're definitely not going to watch." Sarah chimes in, lazily chewing on her scrambled eggs. "How do you feel about Robert Pattinson?"

"That depends," you reply, moving your head side to side in a contemplative manner, "are we talking twilight or Harry Potter?"

You hear your dad snort on the other side of the table and see Joel chuckling beside him. Sarah crosses both arms over her chest and raises a brow at them. “What's so funny?"

"Nothing," your dad clears his throat and side-eyes his friend. "Just thought you two were a bit old for those crappy vampire movies. Maybe watch-"

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's a good idea to take recommendations from either of you," you cut him off, leaning back on your chair. "You're both obsessed with die hard, think The Godfather is incredibly complex and in your spare time watch construction programs. We'll be fine on our own."

"Touché..."

It's been three weeks since your homecoming party, and ever since then it has become a habit to have breakfast together every weekend. Today, Saturday, it was the Miller's turn to cook, which consequently had you and your father sitting at their table. As of now, you and Sarah were discussing your movie night, which had to be postponed due to her road-trip to San Antonio— apparently, she and her friend Ellie were going to visit some college campuses there.

It's also been three weeks since that little, hot encounter you and Joel had in your kitchen. And, contrary to your better judgement, both of you were more than eager to spend some extra time alone. Things since then had been uneasy, specially when being surrounded by others; always worried that someone might notice those stolen looks you'd share or sense the palpable tension that rose when you would stand too close to each other.

You try not to think about it. Except when you do. A swirl of memories would come flooding your mind in the most inappropriate moments, creating that heat that made you remember exactly how his fingers felt inside you, his tongue between your folds, the sloppy kisses and that feral, hungry look in his eyes while eating you out, touching you like you were the most precious thing on earth.

"How about pride and prejudice?" the girl wonders, standing up to clean her dishes and snapping you back to reality.

"Shit, I love period dramas!" your dad shoots you a reproachful glare at your language, but you chose to ignore it. "As a matter of fact, most of my designs are inspired by the Victorian and regency eras."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah recalls, "I remember I read about it in one of your blogs. Dad showed it to me, by the way..." Joel clears his throat loudly, making her giggle.

Although she had mentioned it before, it was still kind of weird that he acknowledged your work. At first you thought it was merely because he wanted to connect with you somehow, but lately he'd been asking if he could see your new sketches and would let you borrow some old magazines he had around the house. Your best friend, Sophie, mentioned he might've been trying to show his interest in you subconsciously. And she was that one psychic friend who believed in zodiac signs and angel numbers, so you decided to believe her.

In that moment, your dad receives an incoming call on his cellphone; he excuses himself and heads to the living room. Your eyes lock with Joel's, and the fact that he was uninhibitedly staring back at you drew a smug smile on your face.

"Are you interested in fashion, Mr. Miller?" he sulks out a dry 'no', but you could see him fidget with his watch nervously. "Pity. I thought maybe you could model some of my male designs."

Sarah genuinely cracks up at your comment, slapping one hand on the table. "You want dad to pose for you? Seriously?"

"Why not? I brought my Polaroid camera, I can get some very nice shots." You were partially joking, but deep down you just wanted to see how he'd react.

"I mean, I know dad's got his charm with women, or so they keep saying-"

"No way anyone says that," he rambles.

"But the idea of him modeling is probably the funniest thing I've ever heard."

The fact was that you didn't want to take pictures of him so anyone else could see them. You wanted them exclusively for yourself. A couple of naughty Polaroids to keep around for whenever you were aching for him —which has been nearly every fucking night since your arrival—.

"It was a silly idea," you finally agree, shrugging. Joel stands to take his things to the sink. "Do you really have to leave for the weekend? You're like, my only friend here."

"Uh, about that..." she leans in towards you and you can practically smell a scheme on her. "Would you be mad if I gave your number to someone?"

You can quite literally feel the man standing behind you tense up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, like... To a guy." She moves in her place, but there's still no answer from you. "He's my English teacher. His name is Will and he's super smart, young, really funny and very handsome, I might add. I believe he can be your new male model." Sarah adds that last bit with a grin.

When you turn your head to see Joel, there was a deep scowl etching on his face, his body remaining still as a stone.

"I don't know... As friends, maybe." You weren't sure why, but the idea of meeting anyone new didn't really sound appealing.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could actually do so, your dad walked in again. He appeared upset, gesturing nonsense and muttering impassively.

"What's wrong?" your tone comes out concerned.

"I have a meeting in Boston," he sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder apologetically. "Apparently it's urgent and I have to catch the next flight if I want to be there by nightfall."

"Oh, don't worry," you smile at him warmly. "I understand. Besides, I'm an adult. I can manage a weekend by myself."

He nods, still seemingly aloof. "I know but- I just wanted to spend some more time with you."

And of course you wanted that too, but saying it out loud could literally bring him to quit his job. He was always very extreme when it came down to you.

"What time d’you leave?" his friend asks him.

"Half past four. Why?"

"I can drop Sarah off at Ellie's and then drive you to the airport, if you'd like." Such a caring friend, Joel Miller. So selfless. Helping your dad out, attending his daughter's every special need...

"Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Take care of my little girl while I'm away."

You see his eyes gleam with a mix of unknown emotions, "Will do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The last few days had been no less than torment for Joel. Each moment that went by in which he didn't get a chance to be near you had him losing his mind. Badly. And it wasn't necessarily a physical thing— not always, at least.

Every morning, he would wake up and go to work, knowing for certain that when he comes back home he'll find you hanging around with Sarah or sitting out on your porch with a sketching notebook on your lap.

He liked to guess what you'd be doing.

Would you be playing board games with his daughter? Watching a movie or baking desserts? Maybe you were thrift shopping with your dad or simply going to the mall. And later on, when he finally gets to see you again, you'd tell him all about it.

Joel also liked to imagine what kind of clothes you'd be wearing. One thing he noticed is that you never stick to one particular style or aesthetic. One day you could be wearing pastel sundresses with ribbons in your hair; the next one could be long, black skirts paired with basic tank tops and multiple necklaces, or even something more extravagant, depending on your mood.

Seeing you was an experience— one that he could never get tired of. It's like every time he sets his eyes on you there's a certain color palette that changes constantly, or the feeling of gathering all your favorite songs into one playlist and then hitting the shuffle button. He never knows what to expect. Hence why he had given up on trying to relate you to the silly things around; like seasons, animals, artists or foods. Instead, he started associating you with feelings.

You were creative, unique and incredibly fearless. In a way, you made him feel uneasy, excited, thrilled, confident and many more emotions at the same time. If he had to describe you in one word, he'd say evoking.

Oh, how you pestered his brain.

He hated how much he thought about you, and how little guilt he felt from it.

Right now he was sitting on the drivers seat of his truck, waiting at the airport's parking lot. You asked him if you could walk your dad to his corresponding gate and he agreed. The downside: it had started to rain, probably not too bad for your dad's flight to be delayed but enough for your clothes to get soaked on your way back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you muttered, shutting the passenger's door behind you. “The seats are gonna get all wet..."

"Here," Joel takes off his jacket to place it over your shoulders.

It feels warm and it smells like him, "Thanks."

He starts the car without saying anything else, keeping his eyes glued to the road. You, on the other hand, could not stop staring at him. Now that no one else was around, there was no shame in admiring his side profile, the way his muscles flexed and his hands grasped the wheel. There was something inherently attractive about men driving, but- Jesus... This image had your mind roaming around dark places.

Suddenly, realization sinks in— you're alone.

Alone with him.

"I, uh..." he taps the wheel with his thumb, still avoiding your gaze. "I wanted to take you out for dinner. The weather kinda ruined it."

The corners of your mouth hitch up in a silly smile. "Too bad. I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

Joel hums, appearing somewhat distraught. In reality, he was fighting for his life. The clothes you chose to wear today were not fitted for the rain; denim mini-skirt, high pair of boots and a white top that complimented your upper body. He tried not to look at the raindrops rolling down your thighs or note how transparent your shirt has become, forcing himself to stare at your hands and the many rings that decorated your fingers, seeing there the one he gifted you.

"How about you come over to my place?" you suggest, trying to catch his attention. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes but... Maybe we can do something afterwards."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, still avoiding your gaze, "Like what?"

This time your voice goes lower, a smirk spreads across your face and something in your eyes flickers; a darker, sensual spark.

"Oh, you know..." your hand carefully comes to rest on his knee. His thigh tenses but he doesn't say or do anything to push you away. "Whatever you want."

He swallows hard, feeling the pads of your fingers run circles on his leg, your nails mildly scratching over the jeans in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin and eases his nerves.

"I've got a better idea," he says, keeping his tone calm —barely—. "Why don't you come to my house instead?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Sure, but- what about my clothes?"

And then he smiles cockily, as if this had been his plan all along, "Wear mine."

Well, there was absolutely no way you were going to turn him down. With a bit more boldness, you slide your hand a few inches up his inner thigh, still rubbing soothing patterns. His jaw clenched, but remained silent and apparently unbothered.

"Joel?" his name rolled off your tongue sweetly, in a way only you knew how to. He uttered a 'hm?' in retort. "Did you miss me?"

"I've seen you nearly every day," he answers playfully.

You laugh, stopping your movements and simply resting your palm there. "So... No?"

"Didn't say that, darlin'." The truck suddenly stops at a red light as he exhales heavily, giving in to you at last. "But I'll let you guess."

A push and pull game, like a cat chasing a mouse. Your smirk widens. "I don't think so. Not as much as I have."

His eyes scan your body from head to toe, the way you sit with your legs slightly parted, back laying flat against the seat and face turned towards him with heated cheeks and low gaze. Unexpectedly, your hand draws back from his lap as you start looking through your purse and a frown forms on his face, baffled by the loss of contact.

"Which is why..." you take the Polaroid camera out and see a whole shift in his eyes, like he's about to burst in laughter. "I brought this."

"No," despite his categorical denial, you still held the object up.

"You have a green light," he curses under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. "Just let me have one, please."

He sighs in defeat, "Why'd you want that?"

The rain had started to settle down but the air was still pretty cold, all that could be heard besides your own voices being the drops that crashed against the car.

"Cause you're handsome," he rolls his eyes sarcastically. "And I like you."

Hell, you were always so straightforward. It made his heart jump inside his chest, wondering if it was gonna burst out.

"You won't like me as much once you meet that Will dude," Joel prattles through gritted teeth, remembering his daughter's suggestion from earlier.

"The guy Sarah mentioned?" your brows furrow subtly. "Why? What's up with him?"

He yanks his head to the side, glancing over at you for a second, "Nothin'. Just thinkin' out loud." In spite of your puzzled expression, he decides to grant your wish. "I'll let ya' take it. But only if I get one in return."

Your lips purse in a smile, "As many as you like, Miller."

He doesn't say anything in response, but his grin doesn’t fade either and you managed to capture it on paper. The image slowly started to become visible and your first thought was how well it captured the whole 'Joel Miller' essence. It was a simple photo of him driving with one hand on the wheel and the other arm thrown lazily over the backseat. That denim shirt hugged his arms exquisitely, the rolled-up sleeves adding to his appeal. He was looking at you when it was taken, so you could see more than half his face— and the way he was grinning, you couldn't help but think he appeared so much younger when he did that. The entire thing felt so much like him: snuggly, blue, genuine and you absolutely loved it.

"There," you show it to him as he started to pull over. "Isn't it nice?"

"Just keep it to yourself, aight?" the man grumbles.

"F'course," with a spark of joy, you slide the photo inside your wallet. "Wouldn't want anyone else peeking at that gorgeous smile of yours. That's a treasure of my own."

"Shut up-" he rumbled, turning his face the other way and opening the door, seemingly flustered. And out of all the amazing things you've accomplished in your life, making this rugged looking man blush was probably your greatest pride.

When he helps you out of the car, holding your hand firmly and cleaving to your waist; you wanted nothing more than to kiss him under the pouring rain, wildly and unhinged, just like last time. But this particular spot possibly had too many curious eyes of which you were unaware of. He obviously doesn't need to guide you through his house, since you already know nearly every corner of it, except for one. His bedroom. And apparently, that's the precise location he's taking you to.

"Please excuse the mess," he says, placing one hand on the door handle, "I haven't had a woman in here for ages, so I'm afraid I probably won't live up to your expectations."

"Joel," you snort, "it's been a decade and a half since you last dated anyone. Trust me, my expectations are pretty low."

He scowls, squinting both eyes. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

It's honestly better than you thought. His bed is nicely done, brown bedsheets striking as warm and welcoming; the walls were painted a pretty, light shade of blue that matched the grayish curtains on the left. The drawers in front of his windows had a bunch of stuff scattered on top of them: a CD player along with a few music discs, some papers, a cap and a pair of reading glasses, batteries, one screwdriver and a framed picture of him and Sarah at the beach. Meanwhile, the nightstand simply had one lamp and an alarm-clock on it. Over the bed's headboard were one poster of a music festival, the image of a landscape and an advert of what you guessed must've been a club, that read 'tacos and beer" on it. The door to the bathroom was on the right.

Messy, yet tidy at the same time. Very Joel-like.

"No way..." you murmur, eyeing the guitar beside his bed. "All this time I thought it was a myth."

"What?" he asks from behind you.

"Dad told me you used to serenade girls back in college and that you wanted to become a singer." A giggle escapes your lips, unable to contain it. "I remember saying he was surely making it up, but..."

"I didn't- I mean..." he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his chest swell with your laughter. "Oh, shut up!"

"Make me." The lingering, mischievous smile on your face made his heart pound and blood rush. "Come on, Miller. Shut me up, I dare you."

His eyes darken, but you don't falter for a second. He doesn't move a muscle, solely watching as you took off his jacket and threw it to the bed.

"You dare me?" his voice goes drops an octave, following your every move closely. "That's rather bold of you, sweetheart."

"Mhm," without breaking eye contact, you start taking off your boots. "And yet you're doing nothing about it."

Joel starts walking towards you slowly, holding your gaze intently. Your hair was damp and your clothes were still wet; it didn't really matter that the air was chilly cause you still felt warm all over. He soon invades your space, cupping your chin in his big hand and lifting your head upwards.

"Well, you're awfully quiet now, aren't ya'?" his hot breath fanned across your cheeks, the gap between your faces being basically invisible.

"I'm just waiting for you to start singing some random song by Alabama or Johnny Cash," you scoff. "Like a good ol' Texan ma-"

He doesn't let you finish the sentence, abruptly crashing his lips into your own. Joel isn't delicate about it and the fervor with which he kisses you makes your body stumble a few steps backwards. Your shoulders hit the wall and he pins you against it as your mouths find a way to mold perfectly, at a much nicer pace than last time. You throw your hands around his neck and let your fingers tangle in the curls around his nape, tasting the fresh mint on his lips. His hands rest on your hips, chests pressed together as the temperature kept rising with each second that went on.

You part your lips in order to grant him deeper access, feeling his tongue slide past your teeth and meeting your own in an ardent, heated way. It was perfect, until he broke apart, looking down at you with an asserted confidence.

"You really know nothing 'bout country music," he says in between shaky breaths, beaming. "S'that what you wanted?"

"Yes," you manage to say.

"Then say 'thank you'," Joel indicates petulantly, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, don't be such a brat."

You blink twice, your brain still buzzing with the sensation of mouth on you, barely capable of processing anything else. "But I want more..."

"You'll take what I give you."

Shit, when he said it like that- "Thank you."

"That's my girl," he straightened his back, opening the door next to you. "Now, get your pretty ass in the shower before you catch a cold, 'kay?" You roll your eyes and hear him chuckle. "There's clean towers under the sink. You can take some clothes from my drawers, or Sarah's if you feel like it. I don't think she'll mind."

"Understood." He can tell you're annoyed, which he finds funny.

"Don't be mad at me, angel." Joel tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

You nod distractedly, lost in the cocky spark on his eyes. "I'm not mad. Just hoping you fuck me real good if you're making me wait for it."

Your words almost make him choke on his own saliva. "Sweetheart, you're making it real hard for me to be a gentleman."

It makes your ego boost, in a sense. "I'll be quick. Can you get something for dinner, though? I'm starving."

"Shit, darlin', pick a struggle," he mocks as you enter the bathroom, "are you horny or hungry?"

"Oh, you jerk!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

6:15 pm.

You take a quick glance at Joel's alarm clock once you come out of the shower. It's been little more than an hour since your dad's plane took off. You hope the rain hadn’t made his flight any difficult, cause the weather turned out to be quite a blessing for you.

The cozy feeling of a nice, warm shower after being soaked under the rain was starting to settle in your bones, making your limbs relax. Then you realize, you smell like Joel. The scent of his soap, his shampoo, even his laundry detergent, is all over you. It's intoxicating in the most fantastic way possible, making your insides burn with a thrill of excitement. You took one on his flannels, —dark green with red stripes— and decided to wear it without anything besides your underwear. It was pretty big anyway, and covered just the necessary areas.

You slid your socks back on when all of the sudden you hear the faint sound of music from the floor beneath. Curious, you walk towards the noise, finding out Joel was in the kitchen, crouched down in front of the opened fridge. The CD player that you saw earlier on his room was now on the table, playing a melody that you recognized almost immediately.

"I like this song," you say, leaning against the wall. "That's Billy Idol, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he recalls, taking out a medium sized plastic box from the fridge. "Tommy made that mix. There's plenty of hits from past decades. I think you'll enjoy it."

The man finally turns around to face you and his face fails to hide his surprise. The way his prying eyes sweep your body in detail, taking his time particularly on your bare thighs, almost made you feel self-conscious if it weren't for that shadow of desire that crossed his eyes and the way his nostrils flared from a contained breath.

"How is he, by the way?" you ask, still on the subject. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"Who?" he clearly forgot what he had just said.

"Your brother," you call to mind, "how is he?"

Joel sets the box down on the table and drifts his gaze back to your face. "Fine, I guess. Last time we spoke he said he'd go to Dallas." He takes two glasses from the pantry and what it looks like a bottle of wine. "I-uh... There isn't any real food in here besides those strawberries and chocolates that this guy brought for Sarah. Should I order something?"

You shake your head and walk over to him, "This will do. Won't she get mad if we eat them, though?"

"Don't think so," he replies, pouring the red liquid into the glasses. "I'll blame you if she does."

"Oh, okay-" you cock an eyebrow at him and hold back a giggle. "Thought you didn't like wine."

"It's a fancy drink," he explains, "s'only for special occasions."

"Oh?" you take a sip from it, eyes boring into his. "And what's tonight's?"

Joel smiles conceitedly, jutting his chin out. "I've got you all to myself."

You snort, feeling the heat soar across your cheeks. He takes the snack box and with a sly gesture asks you to follow him into the living room, the melodic sound of the eighties tune turning to background noise as you do. The only lights on are the ones in the kitchen and the lamps beside the couch, shining a perfect light on his features.

"Come here," he calls, the leather squealing under his weight when he sat down. You set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the tv, going to sit next to him. "No, sweetheart," he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I meant here."

His legs part slightly, making room for you to sit on his lap. Your smile broadened toward a soft chuckle, settling yourself on his thigh. Joel immediately gets his hands on you, one on your lower back and the other merely resting on your upper leg.

"So, who's this mystery man that's been giving gifts to your darling daughter?" he scoffs in response, reaching for a chocolate from the box.

"Honestly? No fuckin' clue." You hum in surprise, drinking from your wine. "She never involves with them, thank god, and once they meet me they never come by again."

"I see,” you muse, “you're the overprotective type," you bite on a strawberry next.

"I wouldn't say it like that..." he sees the sarcastic glimpse on your expression and holds back laughter. "It's a dad reflex, I can't control it."

"Right, sounds convincing."

You stretch your arm behind the couch, setting your elbow and laying the side of your face on your palm. His face is very close to yours but all you do is simply stare at each other; Joel's big brown eyes glimmer with infatuation. “Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" he asks lowly. "Somethin' more serious."

You wince in confusion, but still nod, "Sure."

He inhales sharply, taking a couple of seconds to actually say what he meant to. “Why are you here?" your frown deepens at his words. "I mean- Texas. I know you said you wanted to make up for the lost time with your old man, but... I feel like there's something else you're not saying."

It takes a minute for you to really sink in on his question. You nearly gulp down the alcohol before setting the glass down, avoiding his ardent gaze.

"Honestly?" you sigh, "There's so much to unpack that I don't even know where to start."

"Try." Although he didn't sound harsh, the effort he was asking you to put in wasn't something of your liking.

"Well, first of all," you meditate, clearing your throat, "the city didn't feel like home since my mom passed. It made me realize how much I missed here." He nods comprehensively, caressing the exposed skin of your thigh in a reassuring manner. "And then there's this- fear. Yeah, I guess it is fear... I've managed to accomplish so much in such short time that it actually fucking scares me to go any further and see that-" you stop, sighing and shaking your head. "That I've reached my limit."

For a moment, there's just silence floating between you, all that could be heard were the rain and a song by tears for fears.

"Darlin', look at me," he asks softly but you can't bring yourself to do it, embarrassed by your confession. "Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours."

And it's practically impossible for you to deny him anything. Specially when he asks so nicely, when his hand grabs the side of your face so gently— you give in, just like that.

"You're afraid to succeed because you don't know what to do with yourself afterwards. Is that it?" You nod faintly. "Can I speak frankly?"

"I have a feeling you will anyway-"

"Yeah. A bit of tough love, but you need’a hear it." Joel strokes your cheek sweetly and you get shivers from the affection in the action. "Sweetheart, I know what you're going through. Shit feels like it's either moving too fast or not moving at all. And I know how scary that is. Trust me, there's still plenty of time for you."

You square your eyes to his, "Sure, bet you were frightened when you were twenty four."

"Terrified," he spoke truthfully. "Everyone I knew was getting married, moving out or working their asses off."

"And you?" he grunts, taking a strawberry from the box. "What were you doing?" Joel eats the fruit patiently, simply staring at you silently. "Come ooon, don't play hard to get."

"Gotta promise you won't laugh."

It's a tricky business for someone who makes fun of everything, and yet you simply reply: "I swear."

"Fine," he rasps out in fake annoyance. "I used to make my own guitars and- sell 'em sometimes. I'd also teach guitar lessons and horseback riding."

Your eyes widen in surprise and something flutters in your stomach. "Shit, that's actually pretty cool!"

He groans, rolling his eyes at the same time, "I told you not to make fun of me."

"No, no- I mean it." You shuffle on his lap, resting a hand on his chest. "And you sound passionate about it... Why'd you stop?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, tightening his grip on your waist. "It went well for a couple years but I eventually had to get something more solid. More so after Sarah was born." He takes a deep breath in, the smell of his own shampoo on your hair hitting his nostrils and catching him off-guard.

"You should teach me," you suggest with a smug grin. "I always wanted to learn."

"What, guitar or horseback riding?" he wonders, suddenly nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Guitar. I'm pretty good at riding, if you must know." You feel him chuckle against your body, his facial hair scratching your sensitive skin.

"We'll see 'bout that," his voice comes out husky as he starts kissing along your jawline.

Joel's common sense jumped out the window long ago, but the string of self control that kept him sane all this time couldn't bear the weight of you wriggling on top of him, semi-naked and with his scent all over you. Something primal took over him, a glimpse of possessiveness that he didn't believe himself capable of feeling towards you specifically. He wanted you to wear that flannel around town so people would look at you and know who it belonged to; whose bed you've been visiting. He wanted you to smell of his cologne so other men would know that you weren't free for them.

Your fingers run through his soft curls, messing his hair while he grabs the back of your thighs and manhandles you onto straddling his lap. He nips and licks over all your vulnerable areas, making your breathing start to labour. How could he possibly know this well the easiest ways to have you so desperate this quick? Leaning into his touch, yearning for him even with the smallest action? He wasn't aware of the answer himself, he just knew.

Joel instinctively throws his head back when you tug at his hair and seize the opportunity to duck down and lay a sweet kiss on his forehead. His hands coast up your thighs, splaying his fingers on your ass to squeeze the flesh. You hold back a giggle, kissing the curve of his nose before catching his soft, soft lips on yours.

He slides an arm around your waist, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you as close as possible. You feel your nipples harden when his tongue ran along your bottom lip— tauntingly slow, until you allowed him full access to your mouth, letting him taste the sweet mixture of wine and strawberries on your tongue. But his vehemence didn't make you any less eager, kissing him back with just as much passion and vigor, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and mildly pulling at it with minor strength.

The action ignites a fire within him, seeing you on top, feeling your fingers roam around his cheekbones and along his jawline like you knew just how much fucking power you had over him... It was a new sensation, a new kind of desire he didn't recognize at first.

Joel's lips were swollen and his own excitement was starting to feel evident underneath you, which created a blunt ache between your legs. He usually appeared so big and mean, with those broad shoulders and permanent scowl on his face. Now, though... He seemed like he'd let you do just about anything with him, to him— it didn't really matter as long as you kept staring at him like that; through heavy lids, eyes sparkling with a profound, desperate need that spoke without words, saying 'only you get to see this side of me'.

You start grinding your hips against his, rubbing your clothed core above his growing boner in small, calculated circles as you shore yourself up with a hand to his chest. He merely admired you from his position, letting you have your way with him; all the while his gaze reflected patience, like he could take over the situation any second but enjoyed watching you lead.

"Joel," you call his name, leaning forward to kiss his chin, moving your lips all the way down his throat and feeling the nice scratch of his beard. Your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you come up to whisper in his ear: "Stay still."

Panting, he narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?" Though you don't give him enough time to figure out your words, getting back on your feet and parting his legs further with a light thump of your knee.

He observes your every move quietly, amused by your confidence and determination when you drop to your knees in front of him. Joel's cocky expression doesn't sway, not even when you drag your nails across his inner thigh, inching closer towards his very visible hard on. However, his body betrays him, selling a whole different story. His muscles tense, his jaw clenches and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," he hissed, refusing to place his hands on you.

"Or what?" you drawl, coming to rest your palm on his crotch. A simple, feathery touch that made his pulse accelerate.

"You'll regret it," he warns grimly.

"S'that so?" you start to unbuckle his belt, way too slow for his liking, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I think I can handle it."

He smirked, his hand slithers to the back of your scalp and forces you to lock eyes with him. "Don't test your luck, sweetheart."

You pout mockingly, doing exactly the opposite of what he was saying while dragging down the fabric just enough to free his cock. Your new found courage falters for a second, finally seeing him in all his size and girth. He was, by all means, a big one, the amount of precome oozing on the tip telling you just how much he loved being teased, despite whatever words came out of his mouth. The mere sight of it sent a new heated wave of slick between your thighs.

Joel mimicked your expression scornfully, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, "Too big for ya'?"

"None of that," you wrap your hand around the base, not really applying any pressure; though the sole warmth of your touch was enough to give him goosebumps, "we'll make it fit."

"That's my girl."

With a chuckle, you lower your head to kiss the inside of his thigh, the pads of your fingers softly grazing the veins on his length. His whole body shudders, leaking onto your hand and letting out a subtle gasp as you spread kisses all along his shaft. Your eyes peer into his soul when you gently place your lips to the slit, tasting the salty precome as he calls your name in what resembles a desperate plea. In a swift move, you finally take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and deciding to put an end to his suffering. He mutters a gruff 'fuck' when you attempt to take him farther, pumping what you couldn't yet fit and snaking your free hand under the hem of his denim shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly.

"Shit, darlin'-" you feel the heaviness of his palm simply resting on the back of your head, not pushing or forcing you in any way, but allowing you to adapt to his size. "The only way to get ya' to stop talking is with a mouth full of cock, ain't it?"

You hum in response and the sensation is completely enrapturing for Joel, his callused fingers tangle in your hair to ground him as he releases a shaky breath. It's a huge challenge to focus on anything else but him; your mind whirring with a familiar dizziness while you bob your head up and down his shaft, intoxicated by the taste of him, the smell of him and every sound that escapes his lips, making your clit throb with need and your arousal pool in your panties, uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

For Joel, it's overwhelming.

He's never really been the noisy type during sex but heck— you were doing it for him. He's a panting mess above you, his hips buck ever so slightly in tandem with your mouth, trying not to lose it entirely. Your spit drools down his dick and the way your dark, dilated pupils sparkle with lust as you hollow your cheeks around him pulls a groan deep from his throat.

"That's it, you can take it," he coaxes when your nose nudges his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "Good fuckin' girl, just like that..."

Enticed with the praise, you keep repeating the motion, sliding one hand to hold his hipbone for support and feeling his burning skin under your touch whilst the other plays with his balls to aid his pleasure. The obscene slick sounds mix in the air with his hoarse cursing, the rain and the faint music of kings of leon, sex on fire.

He looks so good from this angle, chest rising and falling with heavy, irregular breaths, head thrown back and both hands on you, keeping you angled for his cock. Drops of precum roll on your tongue as you keep changing the pace at which your head moves, tears welling in your eyes and jaw going slack. Shit, you're aching for him so bad that the only thing you can think of to relieve the need is squeeze your thighs together in order to create some friction. And it works, the action eliciting a moan from you that makes him fucking whimper your name.

"Bet your cunt's drippin' just from sucking my dick," he muffles a laugh that turns halfway into a sigh when you pay special attention to the ruddy, sensitive tip. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

You can tell he is by the way his cock twitches in your mouth; his spine straightens at the heat gathering between his legs and he tries to pull you off against your will, uttering a warning that you chose to ignore. Joel's lips part in a throaty groan when he reaches his high, feeling the outline of your fingers digging harshly on his hip, your hand rubbing his length and your tongue lapping at his slit, taking in every single drop of his release until he's spent, right before pressing a soft kiss to it that makes him shiver. And hell— contrary to others, he tasted good; warm and thick, coating your senses.

His heart beats aggressively against his ribs and he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to get back on your feet while resting your hands on his waist. Although his eyes are barely open, he can quite literally feel your smile when you chastely kiss his lips. He chuckles breathlessly as you sit beside him, tugging himself back in his pants.

"We're not done yet," he says, grabbing the back of your knee and promptly engulfing your leg around his waist, maneuvering your body so that your back rests against the couch and he's crouched down, caged in the middle of your thighs. "I said I'd make it up to you and I will."

"Well, you've certainly got some stamina in you, old man," you poke fun at him, raising a hand to move those rebellious curls away from his eyes.

Joel smiles, caressing your cheek affectionately. "Always got somethin' to say, don't ya'?"

"Oh, Mr. Miller," you coo, enveloping your arms around his neck, "we both know just how much you love to hear me talk."

"Mhm," he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, "yes, I reckon you're right."

His big hand covers nearly half of your face as he holds you still, crashing your lips together. He kisses you deeply, vigorously, in a way that makes you wonder if you could possibly drown in a person's essence. His other palm slides between your bodies to start undoing the buttons of the flannel —his flannel— you were wearing. You can't help but whine when he draws back, watching you from above.

"Joel-" blood rushes through your ears and can feel your cheeks warm up as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers coasting down your throat and to the valley of your breasts, licking his lips when he sees your hardened nipples.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he speaks freely, without holding back emotion, and it makes your heart skip a beat. "Such a sweet, sweet girl I can't get enough of."

"Then take a picture," you purr, "it'll last longer."

He stares at you through a measuring squint, a lighthearted smile forming on his face. "Since you insist." It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, until you finally recall that there's actually a camera inside your purse; one that he reaches for. "If I remember correctly... You said I could take as many as I like."

You lightly squeeze his waist with your thighs, feeling your whole body burn with anticipation. "I did say that..."

"Let's just pray your dad won't find these hanging around," he ponders, turning your face slightly to the side. "He'll have my head."

"And that would be terrible..."

He takes the Polaroid with one hand, the other coming to grope your breast as he backs off for a better angle, ultimately deciding to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck instead, purely holding you there. You glance at the lens, making your best "fuck me" eyes added to a cheeky smile, hearing him curse under his breath prior to snapping the picture.

"You've got the prettiest fucking tits I've even seen, sweetheart," he snarls, laying a palm flat over your lower abdomen while he waited for the photo.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got such a marvelous way with words?" he suppressed a laugh, safeguarding the picture on the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just a few women." Before you can even begin to act annoyed, he sets the camera aside and leans down to kiss your collarbones, the pad of his thumb kneading circles around your sensitive nipple. "Look at you, honey," he murmurs, "you're so easy to please... Or is it just because of me?"

You're panting, your back arching in response to his constant ministrations, every inch of your skin blushing under his attention. "I think it's-" you're cut off by the sudden need to swallow when he sucks a mark on the vulnerable skin between your breasts, "you."

His body vibrates with a laugh and you feel his hand palm your clothed sex, dragging his tongue over your delicate nipple, gently nibbling at it. You screw your eyes shut and let a single, fluttery moan slide past your lips when his thumb nudges your clit.

"So wet just from giving head?" Joel shakes his head in fake disapproval. "Who knew you were such a horny little thing?"

You are holding onto his bicep for dear life, fearing you might collapse into oblivion if you part from his body. His index glides across your slit over the drenched cotton fabric, making you squirm beneath him.

"You- you tasted good," you babble, mind all over the place. 

"Yeah?" his chest swells with pride, "you should taste yourself, angel," his mouth travels across your abdomen, "sweetest thing I've ever had."

It's pointless trying to conjure a response, you're simply too far gone by now. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your thighs, flattening his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You whimper, running your fingers through his locks and bucking your hips to meet his face.

"Please," you blurt out, "Joel, please..."

"What, sweetheart?" he asks, moving the underwear aside to directly touch your clit, fondling it as he watched your slick coat his fingers. "What do you want?" But you can't conceive an answer, all that could come out of your mouth were those pathetic, desperate moans. "Use your words."

With his free hand he plays with your nipple, grabbing your breast with his entire hand. "I want you."

He tauntingly moves his fingers around your seam, refusing to go any further. "Say it again."

"I want you, Joel."

Cocky bastard.

He licks his fingers clean and starts getting off the couch, leaving you with a confused, dumbfounded expression that nearly makes him crack up.

"You didn't really believe I'd be fucking you on the couch, did ya'?" he teases, but all you can muster up is a barely audible 'oh'. "Come on, let's take this to my room. And don't forget to bring that camera of yours."

Mind still dazing, you obey his instructions, following him silently upstairs as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. For a second, he glances back at you, gifting a soft, reassuring grin before extending his arm to grab your fingers, holding your hand in a pure, intimate touch.

And just for that moment, you forget that he's actually your dad's oldest friend, that he's Sarah's father or any other thought of the sort. He's just Joel. Joel Miller, the only man that has managed to make you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, or that made you blush with merely a few compliments.

"Ask me to kiss you," he urges, taking the camera from your hands and carefully placing it on his bedside table, his eyesight fixed on you.

"Kiss me," you don't ask, you downright beg.

He does, though it's not like the previous times. He's tender, almost languid about it. His hands are on your bare hips while yours cup his cheeks; Joel's fingers reach to remove the flannel from your shoulders and moves his lips to the newly exposed skin, murmuring constant admirations. You feel your lungs clench and a tingly sensation on your lower belly.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'." You let the shirt slide down your arms and fall to the floor. "Gonna show you what you've been missin' out on by fooling around with those stupid boys." His words go straight to your core as he takes a step back to sit on the edge of his bed. "Take them off," he gestures to the last piece of clothing on your body.

You compel to his wish, stripping under his prying eyes while he lazily gets rid of his boots. His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the glistening mess he's made of you, promptly dragging you on top of him. Your hands lay flat on his exposed chest shortly before he switches positions, readjusting you on the middle of the bed.

"Joel, please just-" you whine when he keeps playing with your entrance, stretching you with his fingers. Your skin scorches with desire, knees weak from the growing heat on your lower body.

"Stop nagging, sweetheart," he grits through his own lust, his gaze impossibly dark. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Joel, I'm too worked up, I-" you gasp when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that particular spot that made your toes curl. "Fuck..."

"Come on, baby." He ducks down to kiss the skin behind your ear and his beard tickles nicely. "It's just the two of us now, feel free to be as loud as you need to."

His pants are undone and hanging loosely on his hips, the image being so blatantly erotic that only managed to get you more aroused as you fumble to get rid of his shirt. He chuckles at your eagerness, shrugging it out of the way and haphazardly kicking off his jeans and underwear altogether, discarding them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You take a second to revel on his naked figure, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, the marked collarbones and every noticeable mole. His hair is messy from your fingers, a thin layer of sweat sticks some curls to his temples as his wild, hungry eyes bask in the view of your sopping pussy when he parts your shaky legs further. But the moment of appreciation is brief, both of you being edged and spurred on.

He maneuvers a hand to your lower back and aligns your hips with his, watching the way your hole drips for him, wetting his bedsheets. You're a panting mess beneath him, lightly scratching his shoulder-blades and biting on your bottom lip, looking up at him doe-eyed and all splayed out for him to take. Joel wants to tell you just how badly he's longed for this— how he's been yearning to have you so achingly bad. But right now, feelings overrun his thoughts, especially after hearing his name spilling from your lips, begging for him to take you.

"Relax, darlin'." Joel teases your slit with the head of his cock, rubbing it along your sex and coating it with your slick. Your head tilts backwards, dipping on his pillows, small whines keep spilling from your mouth. "I won't go easy on you."

"Great, cause I don't want you to-" your slurred words get muffled by the sudden feeling of intrusion as he finally buries himself in your cunt, letting out a filthy, guttural groan.

You close your eyes, feeling lightheaded and staggered from the way he was filling you up so nicely, the stretch being a tad painful at first, but the kind of pain that could only ever feel good. Then your whole body quivers from head to toe.

"That's it, you can take it," he mutters, peppering kisses to your chin and collarbones as he bottoms out. "Fuck, you feel divine-" The tight, warm grip you welcome him with resembles nothing he's ever had before. This is new, this is you.

You bear down on his cock, enveloping your legs around his waist and lifting your hips to encourage him. He holds you down with a firm grip around your neck, starting to set a pace with his hips as he draws out and then back in slowly, roughly, making your back arch. Your erect nipples brush against his strong chest and create a delightful friction that has you moaning louder than you could've expected. You're amazed by the way he thrusts into you, somehow mindful to hit every right spot inside you —needless to say that it was something that others could hardly manage before—, his pubic hair tickles the skin below your belly button, sending shivers down your spine that prompt you to drag your nails down his back.

"Look," he indicates, despite your inability to even think straight. "Look," he repeats harshly, using the hand that was on your hips to tilt your head downwards, forcing you to stare at where your bodies connected. It was obscene, the wet noises of your pussy and skin clapping against skin sounding purely pornographic. "Look at the mess you're making."

"Joel, I-" you can't form sentences properly, all your attention being focused on how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, for god's sake..."

"Lemme help with that," he speaks breathlessly, pining your leg over the crook of his elbow to make his thrusts deeper, more precise. You cry out in bliss, feeling the heat expanding from your stomach to your legs. "Yeah, you're close, I can fuckin' feel it- fuck..."

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his dick just right. He knows he's in too deep when you call out his name like it's the only word you can remember, when he wallows in the glorious view of your pretty face contorted in pleasure. He looses the grip on your neck and strokes your lower lip with his thumb, prodding you to keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. It's electrifying, a feverish kind of sensation that gratifies every nerve on your body.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, overcame by the intense feeling of euphoria that your body was providing. You realize in that moment that the reason why Joel could fill that void so easily was because he kept prioritizing you above him. Your pleasure was his, too.

"Jesus Christ, Joel-" you mewl when he abruptly pulls out, “… Worth the wait.”

He laughs shakily, kissing your lips shortly. "Turn around, sweetheart. I want to fuck you from behind."

With a buzzing dizziness, you follow his instruction. God, right now you'd do just about anything if he asked you to. You notice movement from his part and patiently wait with your butt up in the air for him to stuff you again; instead, you hear the familiar clicking sound of the Polaroid camera.

"You fucker," you chuckle, "did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Couldn't help myself," he groans, caressing the soft flesh before lightly slapping it. "You look too damn gorgeous." The hit on your skin burns nicely and you can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shit- do that again..."

You can practically hear his smile when he talks, "You into that?" he repeats the action with a little more force and the pain sends a shock of pure pleasure between your legs, your own fluids dripping down your thighs. "F'course you are, I should've guessed with that attitude of yours."

He plays with your swollen pussy, enjoying your tiny moans and the way your legs tremble as you fist the sheets underneath you, burying your face on his pillow when he spanks you again— this time so hard that it probably left a mark. But before the sting washes away he takes the opportunity to enter you in one swift move, holding your hips steady and trailing his fingers along your spine.

"That's my sweet girl," he praises a midst, starting to grind his cock inside you. "Taking me like you were made for it."

This is way more intense, the angle allowing him to hit deeper, harsher. His gruff moans become more frequent as he speeds up his pace, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. The sensation was purely fantastic, melting every thought away and just leaving Joel Miller to fill you in every sense of the word. His hands are never still, roaming your responsive areas, caressing the most sensitive and always taking care of your aching clit.

You might cry from the overwhelming ecstasy— the way his tip constantly hits the depths of your cunt with each relentless thrust has you seeing stars. Joel gets a thrill from the way you can't seem to get enough of him either, throwing your hips back to meet his unwavering pace, clawing at the pillows and moaning helplessly, pushing him close to his climax.

"Joel, it's too much..." you mumble. "Please, I can't-"

He hunches over you, kissing your nape to ease the overpowering sensations, "Yes, you can. You're a big girl, you can take it." And then your vision goes blurry, all you're able to hear being his disjointed, lewd moans; all you can feel is his hard, hot body flushed to yours, his cock twitching inside you and the wetness of your own body. "That's it, give me another one, baby- fuuuck..."

The buildup is so strong you nearly collapse, feeling yourself tremble as he chases his orgasm, fucking you through yours. His fingers reach your bundle of nerves and apply barely any pressure, which has you coming undone in seconds, absolutely soaking his dick and the sheets beneath you, chanting his name like a prayer. A string of curses falls from his lips as he pulls out and quickly manhandles your fucked out self to lay on your back. He exhales sharply through his nose, spilling his load all over your stomach without even touching himself.

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath and looking intently at each other’s eyes before he rolls over, going limp beside you. You stare blankly at de ceiling, suddenly feeling aggressively aware of your sticky skin covered in sweat and cum, the numbness on your lower body that will surely feel sore in the morning and all the marks he's left dispersed on you. You feel satisfied, fulfilled even. Joy bubbles up your chest and comes out in form of a giggle, one you're unable to hold back.

"What?" he asks, turning his face towards you with a half-smile.

"I don't know, I just..." you shake your head, still laughing. "I don't know."

He chortles in disbelief, holding out a hand to take some tissues from the bedside drawer and going to swipe his mess off your tummy and inner thighs. "Shit, I think I might’ve just fucked the sense out of ya'."

Joel sets himself between your parted legs, laying the weight of his upper body on top of you, resting his chin on your chest, eyes boring into yours. He looks so young like this, despite the greying hair and the small wrinkles, his beautiful brown orbs sparkle ever so brightly under your attentive gaze.

"What will your dad say when he returns and finds out his only daughter has completely lost her mind?" he jokes, cradling you in his big arms.

"Come on," you roll your eyes playfully, "we both know that if I had been in my right mind since the beginning, I probably wouldn't be in your bed right now." He doesn't reply, but his smile doesn't fade either. Joel nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse zone briefly before closing his eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp in utter silence.

The wind was howling outside, rustling the tree branches, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your ribs, his deep breaths fanning across your shoulder and his unique scent all around you, on you. In spite of the cold air, your naked bodies are warm enough to stay comfortably in this position, at least for a while— however, there's something deep inside you that doesn't want this moment to end.

"Hey," you call him lowly and he hums in response, "can we order pizza?"

He nods faintly, "Anything you want, honey."

Anything.

If only.

"I'll call," you say. "Any specific requests?"

"As long as there isn't any pineapple on it, we're fine." You glance down at him, almost appalled.

"You don't like pineapple on pizza?"

"No. That's disgusting, come on."

"Oh, grow up!" he opens his mouth to retort, but when he sees your dismayed expression he can merely bark a laugh that you get infected with.

"Order whatever you want," he whispers in your ear. "But you'll have to promise something."

"What's that?" you raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Say you'll stay," he murmurs, slightly hesitant. "Stay here and spend the night with me."

The proposal takes you by surprise, so much that you actually stopped breathing. You ponder wether if you could or you should; because, at the end, what would a night really mean? What could possibly change?

Nothing, right?

Besides, no one had to know.

(...)

A few moments later you're downstairs looking for your phone, wearing nothing other than his green flannel. Joel decided to take a shower while you ordered the food and you chose to walk around the house, paying attention to the little details you hadn't quite noticed before.

Now that you see it, there are plenty of horse images here and there. Very Texan of Joel, you can't deny. Lots of pictures of Sarah growing up, some of him and Tommy and a good deal with your dad. None of his ex-wife. In fact, there's no proof that she even existed. You decide not too think too hard about it, since it was none of your business after all.

You pour yourself a glass of water and wander your eyes across the amount of pills he usually takes. Anxiety pills, painkillers, vitamins. What could possibly be troubling this middle-aged man so bad? Again, you decide to turn a blind eye and simply pick up the phone, expecting a message from your dad to tell you he arrived in Boston well and safe. Instead, you find that your direct messages in social media have new requests. Curious, you open them to see what the fuzz was about.

Hi!

This is Will

I don't know if Sarah mentioned me...

I'm her English teacher, haha

I hope you don't find this creepy, your profile popped up in my 'people you may know' section and since Sarah said she wanted to introduce us, I thought I might just say hi 😉

Honestly, with everything that went down you had nearly forgotten about Sarah's 'you should hang out with people your age' speech. And now that you were stalking his profile, he appeared to be maybe a couple years older than you— handsome in a boyish, intelectual way, if that made sense. Apparently, he studied in New York too, and lived in Queens.

Hi!

Yeah, I reckon she did

What's up, Queens? :)

You don't really expect a reply, not giving much thought to anything in the moment. Though, an involuntary smile twitches your lips when there's a quick message that reads "Not much, Brooklyn" and the writing bubble underneath.

After all, having a friend in Austin wouldn't hurt.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #smut

[multifandomfanfic]

you should totally do a messi x daughter fanfic. One where she is in a relationship with Kylian Mbappe’s brother, Ethan Mbappe.

I love you writing btw. it’s awesome. Keep the good work!

A/N: So about this request--seeing as Ethan Mbappe is underage, I'm uncomfortable writing something for him. I'll do the fic with Kylian Mbappe instead, but I'm sorry, I won't do Ethan seeing as he's 16 and barely even legal in France.

I also combined it with this request: "will u make a fan fiction about Messi x daughter in which the daughter is an actress and they all go to a, premiere or an award show where she is nominated (and she wins), with her. Also an after party part will be good!"

Face claim for most photos: Haley Lu Richardson

Messi x daughter!actress!reader (also Mbappe x reader)

yourusername

liked by leomessi, sydney_sweeney, dannyramirez, and 3,328,498 others

yourusername: tiempo familiar, pt. 1

monicabarbaro: this movie better be good if you dyed your hair for it 😭

yourusername: i promise its worth the wait!! chrishemsworth: I can attest to that!

leomessi: Te ves hermosa, cariño! (translated from Spanish: "You look beautiful, sweetie!")

comment liked by antonelaroccuzzo and yourusername yourusername: gracias papa🥺 antonelaroccuzzo: 💕💕💕

neymarjr: obrigado por vir ao jogo, y/n, foi bom ver você de novo! (translated from Portuguese: "thanks for coming to the match, y/n, it was good to see you again!")

yourusername: you too! ❤️ user307: 👀

fanaccount1: how is she so pretty as a blonde and brunette???? she's so lucky

user203: she's literally anto roccuzzo's daughter be fr

user892: my favorite nepo baby

yourusername added to their story

celebritygossip

liked by pierregasly, ethanmbappe, and 837,238 others

celebritygossip: The first photo was posted on @yourusername;s story yesterday morning. The second one was posted by @k.mbappe just hours afterwards. Coincidence? We think not.

user487: i'm not sold at all but i'm glad it's not (possibly) neymar. i was not for the whole age-gap, dad's best friend thing.

fanaccount2: Totally agree. user008: me three, but we really shouldn't have any opinions on who y/n dates. we don't know her. fanaccount3: no one asked you to act all high and mighty.

user918: Y/N could have any man in the world and she choses someone who looks like a teenage mutant ninja turtle.

fanaccount4: She said we'll find out eventually, maybe this is it??

user773: i don't think she meant some random gossip account 'connecting the dots.' we still have to wait

yourusername

liked by leomessi, k.mbappe, glenpowell, and 2,385,019 others

yourusername: "Figures and Strangers" has officially ended production. I would like to thank everyone who I've worked with on this project; you have made every moment of this past year special, and I will remember our time together for the rest of my life.

"Figures and Strangers" is about family, love, and perseverance in the midst of hard times. While I may not have had hard times, the other themes of this movie pertained to my life when I auditioned:

Without my family's unwavering support and direction, I would not be where I am today; seriously, without my father, I wouldn't have been tipped off about Spielberg shooting his first film in Paris, and I would not be typing this today.

A year ago, I had gone on one date with the man I now call my love. Since that day, he has been with me through thick and thin: from nights spent crying over hard-to-memorize lines, to entire weeks when I was hardly home. He saw me through my highs in lows, through enjoying life then doubting every choice I've ever made. Honestly, I believe he's more love and understanding than man. I would have never known the man my father introduced me to would be such a blessing, but I am so glad to call him mine.

And, finally, perseverance: when I heard about this movie, I was still struggling with the notion that all I would ever be was my dad's child. I love my dad with all my heart and all my soul, but seeing myself called "Lionel Messi's daughter" instead of "Y/N Messi" in headlines about my own accomplishments damaged my self-esteem (not to mention all the "nepo baby" comments--yes, I read all of those). Yet, all of this motivated me to work even harder and persevere, as my character in "Figures and Strangers" does. I am glad to say that I am happy with where I stand right now, and I have made myself proud.

Anyways, to wrap this up, I'll quote the ever so wise Winnie the Pooh by saying how lucky I am having something that makes saying goodbye so hard. I am eternally grateful for everything that has happened in the past year because of "Figures and Strangers," and how it has transformed me as a person.

Thank you all again, and I'll see you in the movies.

~ Y/N Messi

leomessi: También nos has hecho sentir orgullosas, Y/N. (translated from Spanish: "You have also made us proud, Y/N.")

yourusername: muchas gracias, papá. te amo más de lo que sabes. ("thank you very much, dad. i love you more than you know.") comment liked by leomessi and antonellaroccuzzo

zoeisabellakravitz: Best Actress nom when

evanpetes: can't wait to see it!

psg: All of us are so happy for you!

comment liked by yourusername, k.mbappe, neymarjr, and leomessi

masonmount: seriously, y/n, congrats on everything. you deserve all the awards.

yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️ fanaccount5: guys???

k.mbappe

liked by celebritygossip, yourusername, chloegmoretz, and 3,389,291 others

k.mbappe: 🖤🤍

tagged: yourusername

chrishemsworth: Had a fun premiere with you both! Here's to more success yet to come!

comment liked by anyataylorjoy, jayrellis, and k.mbappe yourusername: you too!!

antonelaroccuzzo: You look stunning, sweetie 💕

yourusername: thank you mom 🥺🥺

fanaccount6: WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH

user940: how did we NOT see this coming it makes so much sense yourusername: i told you you'd find out eventually 😉

fanaccount7: they're so perfect omg????

user038: my wife and husband

leomessi

liked by yourusername, cmpulisic, leonardodicaprio, and 7,289,064 others

leomessi: (translated from Spanish) I couldn't be more proud of my daughter tonight. I remember the little plays you used to put on with your cousins and brothers, and today I watched you walk across the Oscars' stage to accept the Best Actress award. All of your hard work and dedication has paid off, and you've truly made a name for yourself. Congratulations on everything you've done and will accomplish in the future. I love you very much.

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i'm going to cry dad! i love you too!

antonelaroccuzzo: We're both thrilled for you, Y/N. You've exceeded our expectations and turned into an incredible young woman.

yourusername: thanks mom!

k.mbappe: proud to call you mine💕

comment liked by yourusername leomessi: Take care of her!

yourusername

liked by k.mbappe, keleighteller, antonelaroccuzzo, and 3,510,389 others

yourusername: can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you

tagged: k.mbappe

k.mbappe: mon amour ❤️

leomessi: The best daughter and son-in-law a man could ask for.

comments on this post have been limited

#messi x reader #leo messi x reader #lionel messi x reader #messi #leo messi #lionel messi #messi insta au #leo messi insta au #messi x you #leo messi x you #mbappe x reader #mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #mbappe insta au #kylian mbappe insta au #messi!reader #messi x daughter #leo messi x daughter #mbappe #kylian mbappe #insta au #instagram au #soccer fanfic #psg #x reader #x you #x y/n #football fanfic #futball fanfic

[onboardsorasora]

omg deaged daniel has my heart:(( he’ll feel so much more comfortable I bet once he gets to talk to his mom:((((

he does!! ok this is literally spiralling lmao!

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | Part 4

Max watched as Little Daniel watched him through his lashes as he made his calls. His sticky red ring pop was always close to his lips and Max could see how stained his tongue already was.

“Do you like ring pops?” Max asked kindly, Little Daniel makes eye contact for a moment before looking at Max’s shoulder again and nods. “I like them too, I love the green flavour.”

“‘Shell likes the green one.” Little Daniel offered softly. 

“All the more red ones for you!” Max smiled when Little Daniel grinned. 

“Ok so I ordered the pizza, would you like to play with the cats while I make another phonecall?”

“Your phone’s weird like the one’s in the movies.” Little Daniel mumbled. And Max figured that must be true, an iphone wasn’t exactly the current tech in 1994.

“It is, I’m still learning it too. May I lift you up Daniel?” 

Little Daniel nodded softly and Max lifted him onto his hip. He walked the few steps into the living room and placed the boy gently on the couch. Jimmy was the first to be curious. Little Daniel looked at him dubiously before reaching his hand out slowly to pet the cat.

Max watched them out of the corner of his eyes while he scrolled through his contacts. Grace picked up after three rings, and Max hoped it wasn’t very late in Perth.

“Max, lovely to hear from you!” Grace’s voice was a balm, Max felt completely out of his depth.

“Hey Grace, unfortunately this isn’t a social call.”

“What’s happened?” Her voice was immediately tense and Max kicked himself, he could have handled that better.

“Nothing terrible. I’m gonna show you.” After hearing her noise of agreement he changed the call to a facetime. She looked at him with worried brown eyes, Max flipped the camera to show Little Daniel stiltedly petting Jimmy’s head. His ring pop clutched tightly in his other fist.

“Oh.” Her gasp was sharp. Max watched her eyes grow soft and yearning. 

“Blake said he’s been stressed lately, it happened not twenty minutes ago.”

“So its temporary then.” She spoke to herself, eyes still staring at the little boy who was her miniature in every way. “He likes the show Lamb Chops, and The Wiggles. Don’t let him choose the pizza, he likes the pictures but he doesn’t like the peppers or olives. He’ll eat pepperoni or hawaiian.” 

Max groaned because Little Daniel absolutely chose the pizza and there were all sorts of peppers and olives. 

“Do you still have the epi pen?” She asked quietly.

“I do.” 

“Good. You may need it.”

“Pistachios, hazelnuts, peanuts. I remember.” Max smiled. 

Grace made that ‘oh honey’ face that Daniel sometimes did when he thought Max was going to be in over his head a little. “Some kinds of grass, milk, ice cream, air fresheners, may make him puke–”

“How did you let him move to Italy on his own??” Max laughed when Grace snorted. He had no idea Daniel had been allergic to so many things.

“He grew out of most of it. And he was very convincing.” She smiled, before biting her lip. “Can I talk to him?”

“Of course!” Max crossed the room quickly and flipped the camera back to the front facing one. “Daniel, I have someone who would like to speak with you, is this ok?”

Little Daniel looked up from where Jimmy was trying to climb onto his small lap and nodded softly. Max sat beside him and brought his phone to Daniel’s face.

“Mum!” Little Daniel screamed, scaring Jimmy a little. He scooted forward on the couch to get closer to the phone, Max brought to phone to him. “That's my Mummy!”

“Danny my baby, are you being good for Max?”

Little Daniel gasped, his mouth dropping open. He nodded quickly, his head bobbled like a toy. “Uh huh! Mum are you coming to get me?”

Grace sniffled and covered her mouth with a palm. “Soon my baby. It’ll take a little bit so be good for Max ok? He’ll take care of you until we get there.”

“Ok! I promise!” Little Daniel chirped, he nodded again like a bobble head. 

“That’s my baby. I love you Danny Wanny.”

“I love you more Mummy Wummy!” Little Daniel grinned and looked up at Max when the screen when dark. Max bit his lip, not expecting the cute aggression that took hold of him.

“Do you want to watch The Wiggles?” Max asked instead, smiling with Little Daniel nodded happily.

#answered #anonymous #de aged daniel #maxiel

[evangelifloss]

Oh my God guys they actually chose a child actress for presumably Maria. This is fantastic news

Maria's bond to Shadow and relevance to his character, is intrinsically tied into the anti-military message of the OG SaB2 storyline. Ageing her up would have been tragic, of course, but it wouldn't carry the same weight. Maria didn't choose to live on the ARK, she wasn't an adult who was in charge of how she wanted to live or where she wanted to go. Gerald Robotnik made those decisions for her with her best interests at heart as any good parent (or in this case, grandfather) would do. She was terminally ill. She was on the ARK so that she could receive immediate treatment for her terminal illness once Robotnik found a cure via Project Shadow. And you know, the ARK would've been an incredibly sterile place-- another safeguard to keep her alive. It's even said the lighter gravity on-board helped ease her progressing disease.

And due to decisions made by the U.S Military based on arbitrary reasoning, they shot her. Point blank. She had no weapon, she was running away, and she was twelve years old.

She was only on the ARK because the same people that authorised her murder, had authorised Project Shadow ergo, the ARK, to begin with.

Robotnik wanted to heal. To help. He took the offer from the U.S Military to lead the Project, because an 'Utimate Life-Form' would theoretically be medically Perfect. No genetic mishaps, no illnesses, viruses, or anything to threaten its life outside of physical attacks. Something like that, could become a blueprint for cures. He could cure Maria, and ontop of that, start to heal others like her.

The caveat of course, was to create a lifeform with immortality and he decided if there was a chance to give his granddaughter an opportunity to grow up and see adulthood, the price was worth paying.

However his experiments whilst chaotic in nature did too well and the whole thing was shut down. All personnel related to Project Shadow with the exception of Robotnik himself, were to be killed. Age, race, relation, rank, if you worked on Project Shadow or knew what it was, you were to be shot on sight.

And that's why sonic/shadow fans go so rabid for ANY Sab2 content as this backstory ties into the whole plot of the game whose main links run straight to Maria Robotnik's fate.

Granted, it has become somewhat of a meme regarding how many times we get to see her die and in how many formats of that horrific sequence of events but the root message behind it carries more weight than many post Sab2 games. In fact, we rarely get to see such narrative driven themes from SEGA due to its constant mis-handling of the sonic franchise.

So yea, shoot that blond child on screen in cinemas. I want that white girl ELIMINATED on screen in front of parents who thought it was going to be a "lol sonic go fast" movie. The Masses Must Know that Sonic games Can and Will Go Hard (when Sega puts effort in.)

#sonic 3 #sonic adventure battle 2 #sab2 #maria robotnik #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #gerald robotnik #space colony ark #project shadow #sonic movie

[dreamauri]

‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾

— you are reading: part three !!

╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┊ summary . . . a day for max and leila ) ┊ genre . . . angst/fluff ) ╰╮ warning . . . bleeding, passing out, mentions of cpr

( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )

Max found himself petting the sleeping pup gently as he watched Leila sit on his lap and read through a dictionary, helping her pronounce the occasional words.

He had found out that his means of communication of her was through German, one that she'd find muse in making fun of him in while they waited for their flight. "Um . . . Thirsty?" She said confused.

"You're thirsty?" Max looked down into the book, confirming the word. "Let's get you something."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MEDIA DAY THURSDAY JULY 21 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

Max had come to learn a lot more about Leila during the flight. Including, the fact that she could not sleep before washing her face, can not sleep with socks nor shoes on, and can absolutely not sleep alone.

He found himself laying back in the business class chair, watching some movie on the presented screen while patting the child that was laying on him.

He's come to like her very much, reminding him of Victoria, his sister, and the relationship he shared with her.

Arriving at Hungary was easy, the two were quick to get settled into the hotel before going down for breakfast. "She eating cereal." Max talked with you over the phone, updating you on his new responsibility.

"If you could get her to eat some protein that would be great. Eggs or chicken, anything." "I have bacon." "Avoid pork." You winced at the idea.

"Omlete?" "Yeah, that's good." Cutting up ⅔ of his dish into bite pieces, he gestured for her to ear. "How's he doing?" "He's OK. Still sleeping. But recovering." Max nodded even though he knew you couldn't see him.

"Leila, eggs?" "Ya3." [ew] She pushed the plate away putting her tongue out in disgust. "Hot chocolate?" "Eh?" She looked up at him confused looking at where the dutchman was pointing, the drinks station. "She likes mango. Try that instead. Alright."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Ba7lam M3ak, besafina." [i dream with you, about a boat] The girl sang quietly as she held onto Max's hair as he carried her on his shoulders through the paddock. Sadly enough, the tween was wearing a red ferrari cap that contrasted with Max's navy blue shirt and orange lion cap. "Wen ba7ar tani." [where we go sailing again]

"Aussieee." Mkayla cooed once she spotted the australian shepard, leaning down and showring the pup with affection. "Thank you, Max. I'll take it from here." She gestured, ready to take the child off the driver. Leila clung to Max's leg once he put her down, hiding from the middle aged woman. "allez, ma chérie. Max a des choses à faire." [come on, sweet heart. Max has things to do]

Leila shook her head. "je veux rester avec Maxie." [I want to stay with max.] "She can stay with me." Max nodded with a soft smile, gently placing his head atop Leila's head to comfort her. "C'est charles." The tween whispered watching the ferrari driver pass by.

"Lets go say hi." He picked her up from under her armpits, setting her on his waist. "Thanks, Mkayla. C'ya, Aussie." With a quick farewell, Dutch boy quickly caught up to the Monégasque. "Non non non, tu vas m'embarrasser." [no no no, you're going to embarrass me] "I don't speak French." He reminded her, even though he could probably put together what she said.

"Charles, Mate." "Max!" The drivers greeted each other, sharing a quick, hand shake. "What's this?" Charles was obviously curious, its not everyday you get to see max carrying a child wearing Ferrari merch. "Babysitting. This is Leila. She's a big fan." He introduced, holding the girl towards Charles like she weighed nothing.

"Well Hello." "Salut." Her voice was small as Max set her down. "Ah, tu parles français?" he kneeled down to her height, a small smile covering his face. "Oui, J'habite en France." "Très beau." He winked at her, taking the hat of her head and signing it. "I'll see you around, Leila." He ruffled her hair, putting the cap back on. "She doesn't speak english." Max told him. "You might want to stick to the french." ". . . How have you been communicating?" "We haven't."

". . . Did you kidnap her?" "What?! Why would you even think that? Look, if I put my hand out she'll take it— Leila seriously? You're dumping me now?" The girl took Charles' hand smiling happily. "I thought she doesn't understand what you were saying. I think I'll keep her." The Ferrari reminded, picking the girl up to his chest. "She doesn't." Max folded his arms as the girl giggled, sticking her tongue out at Max. "You owe me a football match." He booped her nose.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

FREE PRACTICE Friday July 21 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

"Goan!" [goal] She whisper shouted, as she kicked the ball ( she somehow got her hands on ) between Max's legs. He could only smile as he watched her kick the ball around the garage as everyone packed up for the night.

"Bist du bereit, zurückzugehen?" [are you ready to go back] "Dein Akzent ist sehr schlecht." [Your accent is very bad] She teased making Max once more give up on using the language for being made fun of by an eight year old.

"Yallah." [come on] He held out his hand. It was the only word he knew, disappointingly for you. After spending a week in an arab house hold, he was able to pick a few words, including: la2 [no], inshalla [in gods willing/never gonna happen], and khalas [enough]. He already knew Habibi [darling/sweetheart], but that wasn't making anything any better.

"Leila, seventeen is going to kill me." He picked her off the floor starting to make his way out of the garage. "attends- uhhh . . l'anniversaire de nunu c'est demain, on doit lui faire quelque chose." [wait uhh, nunu's birthday is tomorrow. we have to make her something.] "Anniversaire, birthday? Who's birthday?" "l'anniversaire de dix-sept, seventeen." "You want to buy her something?" "Make."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Fuck mijn nek." [fuck my neck] Max groaned, flexing his musche as he opened his eyes after they adjusted to the sunlight. He was sleeping on the ground which had become a mess of paper, glitter, and beads. The only thing was missing was the girl that had passed and left him do all the work.

"Lei— Oh shit. Leila?" He quickly stood up, sobering up from his sleep to start starting for the tween. "Lei—" "Shh." You came out of the bathroom, covering his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed in surprised as you put a finger over your mouth, which held your toothbrush. "She's sleeping." Your mouth was muffled as you pointed at the girl sleeping in bed in her pyjamas.

Max sighed in relief, moving to the night mare that has been haunting hm for the past two days, adjusting the blanket over her. "She likes me more than you." Max whispered, putting his hands on his hips proudly. You could only glare at him as you continued to brush your teeth.

"Cousin thief." You mumbled going back to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste. "Hey I— I got something for you." Max came back with a neatly wrapped up box. "Happy birthday." You looked between the gift and him, a small smile creeping its way onto your face.

"You don't have to—" "—I'll keep it then—" "—mine." You took it out of his hands, gently starting to unwrap it. "It's a bottle." "It's water bottle." He chuckled clarifying, smiling with a shrug. "You broke yours so and I know you loved the last one. So, I thought I'd get you a new one." "Oh that is sweet. Thank you, thirty three." Your turned around, starting to fill it up with water.

"Thirty three?" "Yeah, since you keep calling me by my number." "That's because I don't know your name." "You kon't know your teammate's name?" You gasped, faking heart break. "I didn't— Hey! Don't know!" You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows as you exited the bathroom. "Senta." You answered.

Max peaked his head out the door, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, his toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Is that your name?" "It's my middle name." ". . . Isn't that German?" He asked confused. "Pick a country. First France, and then one from the middle east, now Germany? What's next?" "Netherlands." You joked making him glare.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

QUALIFYING Friday July 21 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

"There he is! Lighting up the whole paddock!" You cheered as Daniel rolled passed on the scooter in the Alpha Tauri fireproofs. "Seventeeeeeeeeeeeen~" He pointed at you with the laugh that made your heart warm. "Danieeeeeeel RIIIIIcardOOOOOOOOO." You sang as you swung Leila's hand.

"Up you go." "ba3raf atla3 lewa7di." [i can get up on my own] She huffed folding her arms as you set her on the couch in the hospitality. "ana 3arfa, bas enti betegbari besor3a awy." [I know, but you're growing up so fast.] You kissed her cheek gently. "lazem aro7 delwa2ti. wa3d mesh hatemshi men hena?" [i have to go now. promise you wont leave] "wa3d." [promise]

Q1 :: you easily made it into q1, sitting in the top ten comfortably knowing you wouldn't be knocked out. rolling back in the pits, you waited in the garage with the warm tires which you'll stick with till the end of Q2.

"Who's out?" "Sargent, Magnusson, Hamilton, Tsunoda, Albon." "Hamilton? Huh." You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "He forgot he's in a Mercedes?" You joked as the team started pushing you out for Q2. "Danny is in, whoo!" You cheered to yourself as you waiting for the go.

"Who's P1 right now?" "Zho." "What? You're joking. Good for him." "Not for you though." "Eh, easy peasy lemon squeezy."

Q2 :: "We are P3. P3." "Who's ahead?" "Norris and Kraus." "Which Kraus?" "Killian." "Alright, you think I have enough time to give it one more?" "Negative. Negative. We are ok where we are. You will have a chance in Q3."

A sigh came from your mouth as you rolled back in your garage to get a change of tires.

Q3 :: "P1! P1! Great job Seventeen." "Yaaaaay." You cheered quietly giggling as you let the other cars pass by on their hot laps. "And Max?" "Max is P3. P4, P4." "Oh? Who's up?" "Kraus is P1." ". . . Which one?" "Meike." "Really?" Your voice darkened. "I'll give it to him."

"Starting grid tomorrow is Meike, you, Killian, Norris, Verstappen, Zho—" "Wait you're joking. Max P5? Are you sure? Is he ok?" "Affirmative." "Dang it. I'm sandwiched by two brothers now, I swear if they drag me into their family drama I'm going to **** **** ****** ******** **** ******." Safe to say you traumatized Jj. "A—alright. Just don't fined."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Happy birthday to you." You heard the team and Lando sing down the pitlane. Happy birthday dear Meike, happy birthday to you." Laughs errupted throughout as Leila watched quietly. "Yala halan balan. Heya Abu El fasad. Haykoun 3iedmilad El Leila as3ad El a3yad. Fal yaha Abu elfasad." [an egyption (?) continuation of the birthday song] You hummed quietly.

"Betghanilo leh?" [Why are you singing for him] Leila asked taking her back pack off. The garages were mostly empty now, you had dismissed a Mechanic, taking up his sweeping chores instead of him.

You shrugged in answer to the question. It just felt right. "Toz fih." [A vulgar/extremely rude way of saying who cares] "3andi 7ega liki." [I have something for you] Getting up in a random chair and dumping her bag on the table. "Max!" She called. "Found a cupcake from the Aston Martin hospitality!" Max raised the cupcake as he entered the garage, proudly placing it in the table top.

"What is this." You laughed looking at both of them as Max held up a lighter. "Sanna 7elwa ya gameel." "Oh no." You sighed hiding your face as they begun singing. Leila had apparently force-taught Max the arabic version of the happy birthday song, and his accent was horrible, with the occasional mistake. "Sanne 7elwa ya gameel. Sanna 7elwa ya, nunu/senta. Sanna 7elwa ya gameell~."

Leila did a little zarghroota ( failing miserably ) as you laughed blowing out the little flame. "How old are you now?" Max asked leaning on the table, with a look of mischief on his face.

"The big two three." You joked folding your arms, leaning on the table as well. "Hah, I'm older." "Older than dinosaurs." You mocked, a genuine smile on your face as Leila pulled you away from Max, handing you a pop out card.

"Aw look, is that me?" "Da enti, Dija, baba, teta, gedo, ana, we da Max lewa7do." [that's you, dija, dad, grandma, grandpa, me and that's Max in the corner] you could only laughed as she pointed at the drawing Max.

"He looks just like you." You teased as Leila pulled out 2 handfuls of accessories. "I technically made these since, Leila slept and abandoned me." You laughed as she put the bracelets and necklaces on. "I love them. Shukra, ya 2amar." [Thank you, beautiful] You kissed Leila's cheek, offering a hug to Max next.

"Thanks Max, you made my day."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RACE DAY Friday July 22 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

"Killian." Walking down the pitlane, the older of the Kraus Brothers looking to his side seeing his dad, gently holding his shoulder. "Give us a minute." Leon dismissed the mechanic, pulling his son aside.

"Deal with that Seventeen girl. She losses this round. We won't have to worry about her nor her ego again. Make sure your brother wins." "I- . . . Alright." He couldn't even protest because the man walked away, walking to the pole winner car.

"Killian? Killy willy?" "Huh?" Everything alright, mate?" "Yeah . . . Everything is-" He got in to his car with a deep sigh. "Everything is. Peachy."

"It's lights out and away we go at the Hungarian Grand Prix."

Lap 1 :: "Meike gets away well, so does Seventeen, so does Killian. It's masked driver sandwiched between two Krauses." "I can already tell this will not end well for Seventeen."

"There is contact on turn one, and the two Alpine drivers are out! Zho drops a few positions and Riccardo spins out."

Lap 6 :: "Verstappen overtakes Norris on turn 3 and he is now in P4,  one position away from the Kraus vs Seventeen battle. Max is charging forward to aid his teammate."

Lap 38 :: Killian felt his heart beating in his mouth, you were going to over take his brother any moment now, and gain P1. He couldn't let you lead. He couldn't over take you either, the plan that he had scripted had failed. And he had no other choice.

"Sorry." He whispered to himself.

"OH! AND- KILLIAN DRIVES INTO THE REAR OF SEVENTEEN!" "Massive crash there catching Norris, Hamilton, Leclerc and Sainz!" "Verstappen was able to get away safely. And that is a red flag."

"Oh fuck! Y/N? Is she okay?" Max's voice popped up on the big speakers as he begun to slow down. "She has not responded yet." "I need to-" "Max stay in the car. Stay in the car. The marshals will take care of it. Red flag. Red flag."

As soon as Killian managed to get out of the car, he heard crying. Like a seven year old balling her eyes out.

Back in the garages, Max was quick to leap put of his car, running through to your garage. "She's up. She's—" "What is she doing?!" He yelled, gripping his hair, watching you on the screen. You were lifting up the side of Lando's flipped car so he could crawl out.

"YOU'RE BLEEDING!" He shouted at you even though you couldn't hear him. Lando was the quick to run to the medics once he got out. "GET TO THE FUCKING MARSHALS!"

You could feel your head spinning as you let car drop the few inches you lifted. You couldn't hear anything, and you your limbs were numb. Your ears were pulsing as you took a step forward to the Marshals, only for you to find yourself weaken.

"And she's on the ground— she fell!" "Where are the marshalls?! She's bleeding! WHERE ARE THE MARSHALLS?!"

Max could hear the commentators, his ears ringing as he watched someone come to your aid. The world was blurring before him as he watched them commence CPR.

Sobs. Snapping out of his trance, Max found a lost Leila at the entrance of the garage, crying her eyes out. Not even waiting a second he was quick to lift her into his arms, bouncing her gently as he tried to calm her down.

Mkayla was quick to come for support, whispering reassuring words to the tween in her second language. "C'est bien. C'est bien, Leila. Y/N est bien." [It's ok. It's ok, Leila. Y/N is ok]

Max himself didn't even know if she was going to be okay. He's seen crashes like that, and they never ended well. Especially after seeing the fate as the previous holder of the number Seventeen had met.

Final Lap :: "and Max Verstappen takes the win. Breaking the record of the most consecutive wins with 12 races in a row."

"This is for, Seventeen." He sighed as he crossed the line. "This was her win." "Thank you, Max." The Dutch heard Christian over the radio, a deep shaky sigh coming from the driver.

Hopping out of the car, Max was quick to go to where his team waited for him, patting his back gently as he pulled the reaching Eight year-old into his arms. Pulling her over the fence ( not giving a single shit about getting fined) , he kept her in his arms as he walked to the cool down room.

Sitting in between the two Krauses, he braided the girl's hair gently, occasionally wipping the silent tears that streamed down her eyes. When it came to the podium, Max had failed convince Leila to wait for him, ending up with her joining him, hugging his leg on the top pedestal as they played the National anthems.

He felt anger, raged. Watching Meike celebrate made Max want to punch him in the face. But he held back, holding up his trophy slightly for his team, before walking out hand on hand with Leila.

17: oh no im bleeding to death

lando: *not injured, is fine*

17: i want to play prince charming

( taglist ↳ @lorarri - @benedikwonn - @mycenterfold - @iamahallucinanionnn - @lizzieolseniskinda - @chelseyyouraverageluigi - @michellekstyles - @ironmaiden1313 - @azxulaa - @mistrose23 - @lazybot - @hockeyboysarehot - @iloveyou3000morgan - @livster

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #f1 #formula 1 #formula racing #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max x reader #max x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fics #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n

[halfmoondaze]

Flickering Desieres

A fic collaboraton with @heavyhitterheaux

Born and raised in Y/H/T, Y/N knew from a young age that she wanted to be a singer and that she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way of her dream becoming a reality. 

She would go on to perform in local bars and coffee shops that were known to have open-mic nights and spend the rest of her time writing her own songs and posting videos of her singing on Tik Tok. 

She posted a song that she had written called “Drowning in the Blue” on the platform, not thinking much of it. However, the song quickly gained traction and went viral, amassing over 230 million views. 

As the song gained popularity on Tik Tok, she quickly caught the attention of music label executives who were eager to sign her. 

After careful consideration, she chose the small independent label “Adagio Records Co.” And the rest was history.

Every single time an opportunity presented itself, she would sing. Whether it be around the house, performing for family, or local talent shows. When she saw an opportunity to sing, she took it.

Meanwhile, Jack had just finished filming his latest movie starring Matt Damon and Casey Affleck called “The Instigator” in Portland. Overall, Jack felt more inspired than ever to go back to the studio and create new music. The last thing that he ever wanted anyone to think is that he was leaving music behind for acting, because that definitely wasn’t the case.

“Look if it isn’t the movie star.” Urban said as Jack entered the recording studio.

“Hey man.”

They did their secret handshake as Jack sat down next to him.

“How was Portland?” Nemo asked.

“Wet.” 

They started laughing from Jack’s response and Nemo just simply shook his head. 

“The label got me this list of the possible female singers we could bring in for the feature” DJ Drama said as he sat down. 

“Shoot, let’s hear it.” 

“Doja Cat?”

Jack thought for a second. “No” 

“SZA?”

“No”

“Y/N?”

Jack pauses for a moment. 

“Who is Y/N? I’ve never heard of her. Is she a new artist?”

“Her song blew up when she posted it on Tik Tok not too long ago. Since you hardly ever go on there, I didn’t really expect you to know.”

As Jack quickly learned about Y/N’s music, he became captivated by her sound as a singer which was something unlike anything he had heard before. A sound that was both fresh and somehow nostalgic. With hints of 90’s R&B, soul, and smooth jazz; mixed with contemporary pop. He found her songwriting skills impressive and authentic. He was hooked. 

At this point in time, the choice was obvious and he couldn't wait to meet her in person.

He felt as though this would be a good move for him seeing as the most he ever did with another female artist was hop on the remix version of a song. However, this time they were starting from scratch and knew that this was something that his fans had been waiting for. New features with new people.

It was true that he was worried about the hype surrounding him and his career dying down, but knew for a fact that as soon as he made the announcement surrounding the single being released, it would pick back up. 

That morning, Y/N showed up early to the studio wearing a men’s button up shirt as a dress, knee socks and sneakers wanting to be comfortable for however long that she was going to be here for. 

“Y/N, you must already know Jack.” DJ Drama introduced her.

Jack went in for a hug but Y/N stopped him reaching out for her hand for him to shake. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you.” 

Jack smiled. 

“Good things, I hope” he joked as he shook her hand. 

Jack went on and introduced Y/N to Urban and Nemo. 

“We are glad to have you here. Thank you for helping us out” he smiled. 

“Happy to help.” 

“Would you like to go over the song?” 

“No, I’m good,” she said as she entered the recording booth and put on the headphones. 

Jack was taken back by her confidence but thought it was very attractive.

“Ok. Whenever you’re ready” he said. 

That’s when Y/N who was supposed to sing the chorus to his song “Locked In” however, she completely changed the lyrics and Jack stopped her mid performance. 

“Can we stop?” Jack asked as he looked over at Nemo who simply nodded his head.

Nemo stopped the track and waited for the both of you to agree on the next steps.

Y/N takes off her headphones and turns to Jack wondering what the problem was, but deep down she knew.

“Those aren’t the lyrics” he said and turned to Nemo. “Do you have a copy of the lyrics you can give to Y/N?. 

“Oh, I know what the lyrics are” 

“Then why aren’t you singing them?” Jack asked not understanding what was happening at the moment.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, I was told to come here to help you with your lyrics which is what I did.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Your label approached me to help you write a hit. And that’s what I'm trying to do."

“My last album was very successful.” 

“I don’t think an album that scored 2.9 on Pitchfork would be considered successful.” 

Jack looked at her stunned, not knowing how to respond.

“No offense, but your music is on a surface level” you replied not missing a beat. “You talk about all this generic stuff like proving your haters wrong, bragging about your conquests…nothing groundbreaking” you paused. “You never reveal anything about yourself.”

Jack clenched his jaw as he crossed his arms, but he didn’t look away from you as you were talking to him.

“I’m sorry?” he raised his brow, feeling a mix of surprise and irritation. No one had ever challenged him like this before.

“You’re not really saying anything” Y/N pressed. “If you want to stand out, you need to be more vulnerable”

He scoffed. 

“And just spill my dirty laundry into the world?” he shot back. “I’m not doing that”

“Suit yourself” Y/N shrugged. “But don’t expect your fans to care for your music if you’re not willing to be real with them.”

With that Jack left the studio without another word, clearly pissed off because of the exchange that had just happened. 

Y/N turned to look at DJ Drama who couldn’t contain his laughter. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Y/N curiously asked because as far as she was concerned, she was simply being honest with him. 

Jack walked out of the studio and headed over to Craig Kallman’s office who was the CEO of Atlantic Records and he quickly knocked on the door. Hearing his voice say ‘Come in.’ He proceeded to enter.

“Jack, what’s up?” He asked as he looked up at him.

“There’s a bit of an issue with the collab with Y/N. I don’t think she’s the right fit.”

Craig simply looked at him before offering his advice.

“Jack, I know it can be challenging working with a new artist, but I think Y/N can bring a fresh perspective and new life into your music.”

Jack sighs as he sits on the sofa across from Craig’s desk. 

“I’ve built my career on my own terms and I don’t want to compromise my authenticity for the sake of a hit song.”

“We’re not asking you to compromise Jack. We’re asking you to explore new possibilities and push your boundaries as an artist.” Craig says, his tone gentle but firm. “Let’s just call it a day and start over tomorrow; I’ll let Y/N know” 

Jack was feeling somewhat reassured but still conflicted. 

He stood up, thanked Craig and exited his office hoping that things would go better tomorrow

#jack harlow imagine #jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x you #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #singer!reader #famous!reader #harlow jack

[itsloverrrboy]

──aliens

i. twilight

ii. emmett cullen x m.reader

iii. language/cussing, fluff

iiii. a/n: I haven't written twilight before so this is my first time, IS THE TWILIGHT FANDOM STILL ALIVE??😭

It was a few days after the first day of school, your sister already made friends while you had not. You sat with them at a table, the fact that you didn't know them or didn't know where to go besides the cafeteria.

All this time you hadn't listened to a word they were saying besides gossiping about the "Cullens?" You guessed some popular teenagers like in those terrible high school movies, all you were doing was eating Bella's food.

You burped out loud to have the whole table glance at you.

"What?" You attempted to say with your mouth being stuffed down with the cafeteria food, meanwhile: the brunette was disgusted.

"Cover your mouth, (Name)" you simply chewed louder and made noises; doing the complete opposite of what Bella asked. Some laughed, and others were grossed out.

"Please go somewhere else" she shoved your face away from hers as you pouted and stood up anyways, grabbing your- or more like Bella's tray to throw it away.

"Fine. You don't deserve my love and affection" you walked away; being a little extra and chose to stick out your tongue at her, not seeing the little smile on her face.

"Very mature" she mumbled, glad you didn't hear her...otherwise you two would be arguing the whole lunch period.

As you went towards the trash can, you didn't notice another boy your "age" standing a few feet behind you. Turning around again, it felt like you bumped into a hard brick wall...

Glancing up to make eye contact with a tall male. He was definitely not a wall.

He had broad shoulders and saw his strong muscles through his white jacket. His golden bright eyes gazed back at you with wonder as his pupils dilated, despite his large scary figure, you smiled up at the handsome man.

"You should watch where you're going big guy" you joked.

Surprisingly he laughed or more like chuckled at you, was a bit taken aback, he still responded with the same energy.

"You were in the way," his handsome face had a playful smirk. You put your hands up defensively at his comment "you got me there" he then stuck out his hand out unexpectedly.

Did he wanted to talk to you?

"I'm Emmet."

"(Name.)" You shook his hand and felt his pale skin was cold like ice, you winced and pull your hand back immediately.

"Jesus, what are you? A vampire?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement, funny to him that you were right all along and had no idea.

"You believe in vampires?" You shrugged your shoulders and walked with him to get another tray "uh, no but I do believe in aliens" he scoffed and watched you get a salad.

You looked back at him at the sudden noise he made "what? Aliens are real, why wouldn't they exist...we have the whole earth, space, and universe to ourselves-" as you kept talking and grabbing a couple of things, you didn't realize his eyes soften.

As soon as you burst in through the cafeteria door, he smelled your scent and felt a deep connection with you; knowing you were his mate. He was surprised you were a male but was glad you weren't some old man. His sister encouraged him to talk to you and...was not disappointed.

His snorting caught your attention, you looked at him again with a confused look.

"Sorry." He clearly wasn't.

"What's so funny?"

"You're just really cute" he complimented with an adorable smile as you felt warm at his sudden bluntness, you coughed awkwardly and thanked him.

Talking for a few more minutes-or more like Emmet listening about your silly theories, but before your went to sit down with your boring sister. You gently put your tray down for a second and got out a pen.

"You know...if you ever want to talk about aliens sometime, here's my number" you shyly mumbled out as your bad hand writing was stain to his arm.

The buff man doing his victory dance inside his head, he nodded and tried to stay calm by not freaking you out. He knew his brother was reading his mind and would probably tease him later for acting like this.

At least now you've had a friend.

#twilight #twilight fandom #twilightfic #fanfiction #fiction #reader insert #male reader #emmet cullen #twilight x male reader #fluff #male reader blog #oneshots #fanfic #ftm mlm #mlm blog #bxblove #lgbtq #gay love #bisexual #not nsft #writers on tumblr #writing blog #bella swan #x male reader #emmett cullen x you #emmett cullen x reader #fantasy #not a request

[katsu28]

hi darling what about spider flower w rooster 🫡 xo @familyvideostevie

hi baby thank u for this request u are my angel <3

spider flower: a joke about getting eloped turning serious, bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, 1k

You weren’t exactly sure how the topic of marriage came up tonight. Maybe it was the effect of the wine, maybe it was the sheer bliss of being snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms on the couch. Maybe it was the romcom you’d mindlessly turned on but neither of you were really paying attention to. Maybe it was the fact that right here, right now, with Bradley, you could see your whole future laid out in front of you. 

Your relationship wasn’t new by any means, but still seemed ages away from even thinking about getting married. Not that it stopped you from thinking about it. In fact, you thought about it a lot. 

Every time he brought you coffee and croissants when he came home from his morning run, the thought of weekend breakfasts and lounging around in bed with him crossed your mind. Whenever he burst through the door after work with a loud “Honey I’m home!!!”, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest at the prospect of possibly hearing it for the rest of your life. Every time you bumped elbows while brushing your teeth at the sink and he tried to kiss you with toothpaste still in his mouth, you thought about forever and ever with the love of your life. 

So yeah, you thought about it often. You just didn’t know that Bradley had been too. 

“Why would the bride say she was okay with the flower arrangement her mom chose when she really wasn’t?” Bradley wondered out loud, more to himself than anything. He was squinting at the screen all confused when you looked up at him, pinched brow almost comical had his question not been entirely serious.

“Sometimes it’s just easier to let your mom have her way than go against her.” You replied. You understood the complications of mothers and daughters far too well. 

“But it’s your wedding day, you should be able to have a say in what you want or don’t want.” 

“Maybe it’s not that simple?” 

“Wedding planning seems too stressful.” Bradley sighed, rubbing an idle hand down your arm. "We should just elope when the time comes for us.” He chuckled at his own joke and went back to watching the movie like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bomb on the conversation. 

Those words lit a spark in you that you didn’t know was there and you sat up, letting the blanket fall from around your shoulders as you turned to face him. This was by far your favorite version of him, soft and sweet and relaxed and yours. It was a side of Bradley only you got to see, one that only made an appearance every time he stepped through the door of your shared home. He wasn’t Lieutenant Bradshaw, he wasn’t Rooster, he was just…Bradley. Your Bradley.

You wanted this Bradley and every other version of him forever. You’d known that long ago, probably since your first date, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and no way of knowing he’d randomly picked the perfect type. 

He just tilted his head at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s up?”

“Why not do it now?” 

“Do what?” 

“Elope. Get married. Right now.” 

“Are you—are you serious?” 

“Were you not?” 

“No, no, I was. I am.” He insisted, propping himself up on the cushions. His mustache twitched the way it always did when he was fighting a smile as he reached for your hand. “I just…I didn’t think you wanted to get married so soon. Or like, at all. Is that stupid to say?” 

You shook your head profusely. “Not stupid at all. We’ve never really talked about marriage and shit, you’re right. But I gotta tell you, I think about marrying you all the time.” 

“Really?” 

You nodded. “Really.” 

“Then what are we waiting for?” He said softly, bringing your hand up to his face and kissing your palm. “Tomorrow morning, first thing. I think we just need some paperwork and we should be all set. I’ll take care of all of it.”  

“We’re getting married?” You could barely contain the grin bursting its way across your face at the idea of it all. 

“We’re getting married, sweetheart!” He echoed. You let out a noise you could only describe as one of pure joy, flinging your arms around his neck. He caught you against his chest with ease, pressing his lips against yours in the sweetest of kisses that you reciprocated immediately. 

You were ready for your happy ever after with the love of your life. 

That was how you ended up at the courthouse the next morning, hand in hand with your soon to be husband as you waited to be called to go before the judge. Bradley’s thumb rounded out circles against the top of your hand, but it did nothing to soothe your jumpy nerves. 

You’d get holy hell from your family for eloping, you were sure of it, but you didn’t care. All you needed was Bradley and you’d be just fine in life. That much you knew. 

“Hey,” He murmured, knocking his knee against yours. You pried your gaze from the marble floor to meet his reassuring one. “You okay? Got quiet on me there.” You managed a small nod. “We don’t have to do this right now. I promise I won’t be offended if you don’t wanna.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “No. We’re doing this. I want to do this, I wanna marry you. I want to be your wife.” 

Bradley let out a whistle, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “My wife. Man, that sounds too good to be true. Can hardly even believe it. You…my wife.” 

“You better believe it, Bradshaw.” 

“I love you.” He said, so simple and so sweet like he was saying ‘I am alive’. 

And in a way, it was true. Loving and being loved by Bradley Bradshaw felt like being alive in every single aspect of the word. It was thrilling and comforting and exciting and relaxing, all wrapped up into one. 

Then someone called your names from inside the courtroom, and you grinned at him, squeezing his hand tightly once more before standing. 

“Let’s do this?” 

“Let’s fucking do this.”

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #miles teller

[jarofstyles]

Flame 4- Blaze

Hello my loves!! Here she is. Flame part 4. Please let me know what you think!

Check out our Patreon!

Warning: smut!! Dirty talk!! Filth :)

WC: 3.4k

———-

For people who were supposedly best friends with benefits, they were acting more like a couple than anything he had ever experienced.

He fucking loved it.

Dates. What used to be hang outs were dates, really. Harry was having a ball planning them. The movies, new dinner places, brunch, walks in the park, a water park, and recently the zoo. But today, it was simply cooking dinner together and watching a movie on Harry’s projector.

She was wrapped up in his arms, in his sweatshirt again. The pasta sauce emergency had been a result of not securing the lid on the blender, meaning there was splatters of red sauce on the ceiling he may never get off, ruined clothing and a stomach sore from laughing. They had cleaned it together, still managed to have enough to use for their hand made pasta and ultimately had beautiful blackmail photos of one another covered in red sauce.

The lights were dim as they watched Pretty Woman. It was one of Y/N’s favorites, so she was relaxed perfectly in his arms. Sitting right between his split legs on the couch, she rested her head against his chest as her hands held his forearms. Boldly, his own hands were dipped under the borrowed sweatshirt, stroking the soft skin near her ribs. It was mindless, gentle, and driving her a bit crazy.

He pretended not to notice, but he did. Harry could read her like a book. Being friends for years and years on top of learning her intimately had a hand to hold in that. Y/N wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, and he felt fucking honored to be the one she chose to be soft with. When she turned the other night and nuzzled into his neck, he about died with giddiness. Harry had been the clingy one for ages, and now she was close to letting it be a battle.

“Why have you never asked me to be your sugar daddy?” His voice vibrated against her back, making her roll her eyes. Harry always interrupted moments with dumb comments like that but she catagorized it as part of his charm.

“Because you can’t afford me.” She deadpanned, not even turning around to catch his reaction. She didn’t have to. The offended scoff and grunt spoke enoigh- but she hadn’t accounted for how close his hands were to her breasts. The slight pinch to her nipple made her squeal, turning slightly in his arms to give him a wide eyed gape.

“Harry, what the fuck?”

“You just said I don’t have enough sugar to be a daddy.” He groused. “That’s offensive and rude. You know, I could very well afford you. We are sitting on a beautiful couch! And you're wearing my Gucci jumper.” The tone made her aware of his jokes, which didn’t help the fact that the action she had tried to be pissed about had turned her on. She never had anyone pinch her nipple before but she could kind of see the appeal of nipple clamps.

“Shut up, moneybags. I meant what I said. I’d drive you crazy. Besides, you’re literally getting the sexy stuff for free. Do you want to start paying my rent or something? Wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Harry wanted her to move in. But even he recognized that was kind of a ‘what the fuck’ thought and way too soon. He just really enjoyed her staying here, being with him, not separating at night. Waking up to her in his bed. Finding her in his kitchen on her laptop when he got home. She had always kind of had a drawer here, but now her clothes- as much as it drove him a bit mad- mixed with his in the drawers. He didn’t feel like splitting the laundry. It was comfortable and it filled his chest with flutters. The good kind.

“I was thinkin’ more like going out to buy some pretty lingerie for you to wear for me. But I suppose I could pay your rent. Just out of spite. Can’t believe you said that.” He muttered, happy when she turned back to lay on top of him. Her open affection without her pushing him off if her anymore was a welcome change. He didn’t feel any sort of hesitancy anymore, wrapping his arm around her waist while the other toyed with the ends of her hair.

“Fine. Both. If you want to talk like a big shot, I want it Venmo’d to me later. But if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna have to at least suck you off.” A playful glint hit her voice, fingers tangling in his necklace and feeling the cold metal wrap around her skin. She. Had gotten him the phallus banana as a joke but he wore it every day with an almost concerning amount of pride. “Haven’t gotten to do that nearly as much as it should be considering we’ve been doin’ all this stuff.”

Harry swallowed the slight tension in his throat as he listened to her words drop to a whisper. Y/N had opened up to him in a completely different way than he had expected since they’d begun to fool around. It was like she was finally letting the more vulnerable parts of her show, even if just for a few seconds at a time. She was still a cute little bully, still called him out on his shit and his bad jokes but… the new softness she granted him had made his emotions a bit more raw. He’d already liked her, loved her, even, before they’d touched in any way besides their drunken make out sessions. Now? The thumping in his chest had intensified. Bigger fleets of butterflies invaded his stomach. Y/N had made him feel things he never had before, ad cliche as it sounded.

“Well, I’ve no complaints. I do think i could go with a a few more blowies, but I like this too.” He mumbled, pad of his finger brushinge tresses from her cheeks that had fallen in her turn over. “Just letting you be a softie and not getting bitten too much.” The bliss of having her lay in his arms was something that he didn’t take for granted for a single second. He loved it. Their dynamic shifting had made him significantly happier. “I like your mouth regardless. Even though you’re a bit of a bully when you aren’t lettin’ me kiss on you.”

Y/N shyly. smiled, leaning her chin on his chest as she looked up at him. “I only bully you when you deserve it. You’re a menace, especially when you get all smug. It’s only hot when you’re touching me and we’re doing dirty shit. Other than that, it makes me want to smack the dimples off your stupidly cute cheeks.”

Yes, it was a bit of an insulting tease but he couldn’t help the light it brought up to his chest, the festering warmth motioning him to pull her up to his mouth and capture the sweet tasting lips for his own. Y/N had been caught slightly off guard with how tenderly he treated her lately, especially with how he had seemed so overjoyed to do it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been clingy and soft in the past, it was just… a lot more now. A lot of stuff that he hadn’t done before. Holding her hand closer to his mouth and kissing each knuckle, stroking imaginary hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Even stroking over her eyebrows as they cuddled which felt strangely more intimate than anything else. He didn’t ever seem to tire of looking at her.

It was living in a state of delusion, perhaps, but it felt so real. So real it almost hurt to think of it as anything but.

“Cute cheeks, hm? A compliment? You’ve been awfully generous with the compliments lately, little angel girl.” He crooned, tapping his finger against her nose. “I like it. Keep ‘em coming. Cause I can return the compliments all day long. I love your eyes. Could look into ‘em forever, really. Prettiest girl in the world. Not even just saying that.” He shrugged. “Always thought that but you used to punch me in the chest for saying your hair clips looked cute. So.” The man’s tongue pointed out at her, making her give him a look.

“Shut up.” Again, she felt a bit itchy under his scrutiny, his compliment. It made it feel even more serious. Not that she didn’t want it, but she felt a little antsy when the idea of it came about, because how did they transition to that? Would she ever have the balls to say anything about it?

“Nope.” His lips popped around the P, sitting up with her on top of him and adjusting so she was sat on his lap, arm wrapped around her waist to keep her stationary as he moved. “You’re beautiful.” Fingers of his free hand stroked down the side of her neck. “So beautiful. Especially in my clothes. I think you’ve been doing it on purpose.” Her eyes were shy when he complimented her like this, dropping to his chest. Harry’s never left her. He could notice all the subtle changes. Any twitch of the lips, the swallow in her throat. He knew her inside and out. “No one compares to you. Mean it.” He lightened his tone but there was the weight of what those words could mean. “Y’know… I know you say aren’t fond of me being my sweet self to you, but you are. You love when I’m soft with you. You’ll never admit it to me, but it’s true.” His lips delicately pressed to her cheek, exhaling through his nose.

Y/N didn’t like how well he knew her. Well- she hadn’t. Now? Now… that glittery, plushy, bubblegum pink feeling in her chest when he littered her with compliments and kisses had her clinging on and craving more. Allowing him to do these things because Harry meant them. He wouldn’t lie to her. Never. Not about things like this. He had taken the lead on being more domestic and sweet but she hadn’t felt even the slightest bit of resistance to it. She decided to be quiet, grumbling as she sagged into him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders while she felt him chuckle under him. Her face tucked into his neck, hesitantly placing three kisses to the hot skin while she tried to navigate these feelings.

Harry’s smile was soft. Holding her to him, hand splaying across her back and rubbing over the jumper as she cuddled him. “I like when you’re my sweet girl. Makes me so happy.” He let the words out quietly, turning his head slightly to rub his nose against her hair. “Not trying to tease you. I really like when you’re soft and let me be nice to you. I enjoy your bullying… but this?” He laughed. “This is my favorite.”

Y/N couldn’t help it. She wasn’t good with words the way he was, so she decided to answer with her body. Pulling from her neck with a soft sound she couldn’t quite place where it came from, she slotted their lips together lazily and kissed him. Soft. So, so, soft and delicate. A simple lip lock in appreciation for his kind words. The only person this type of vulnerability felt okay with. That she was warming up to. That tough shell Harry had managed to crack and pick away the hard exterior for. He had picked her apart piece by piece in a way that hadn’t felt too bad. After a while, she had begun to find comfort in revealing new things to him.

It was just a scary revelation. Being in love with your best friend.

“Dork.” She resorted to a soft insult but the smile against his lips made him return it. She didn’t know how to express it verbally yet, and he was okay with it. “Irritates me cause… now I really want to suck you off.”

“Think I want to be close to you right now.” Harry loved her mouth but… he simply wanted her. He wanted to be inside of her and feel her as close as humanly possible. “Can I have you? Nothing too crazy yet. Just…” he sighed. “Want to be close.”

Y/N couldn’t say no. How could she when she wanted the same exact thing?

It didn’t take too long. Being wet had aided in her preparation, Harry slipping inside of her and letting himself feel the stretch. The condom that had been placed conveniently in the coffee table drawer did little to hide the way she was clenching around him, slowly letting her fall down further on his length as she sat on his lap.

“There she is. That’s my girl.” His words were gentle, the arm around her firm as he looked into her eyes. “Take your time. Feels so good already.” The praise naturally fell from his lips to her. Y/N whimpered at the feeling of him filling her, her body adjusting to him, but it was a delicious feeling. Her nails slightly dug into his shoulders as she exhaled a moan, falling down as much as she could before she began to grind her hips a little bit.

Harry groaned along with her, fingers flexing on her hip as he encouraged her slow movement. “Just like that. Fit me perfectly, don’t you?” He kept his forehead against hers, wanting to keep that closeness. His sweats around his ankles, shirt on the floor and his hand on her now bare torso, this was intimate. There was no rush. Simply enjoying each other. “Like you were made t’be filled with me. Such a perfect girl.”

This wasn’t best-friends-with-benefits type of talk and they both knew it; but neither were ready to admit it quite yet.

Y/N never felt this comfortable with any of her partners. Harry was attentive. He knew her body. The way he fit inside of her filled every inch she had, brushed against the most sensitive spots and made each rock on top of him shot hot sparks of pleasure down her spine. Soft moans left her mouth as she continued the movements, enjoying every second.

“Feels perfect.” She whispered. This was a bit different than their other times. Not as filthy… not as deprived. It was intimate. Soft. Needy in a completely different way. Y/N was sure she would overthink what it meant later but right now, she felt cherished. Adored. This was so wring she wanted to bask in. “Harry-“ the gasp left her lips as he shifted slightly, the angle changing just enough that he was pressed against the spot that had her shaking a little.

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, his own breathing rougher as he held the back of her neck, bringing their lips together for a messy kiss. She was tight around him, Harry lifting his hips a bit as she rocked to get as deep as he could and enjoy her motions. Y/N was the best he had ever had and probably ever will. He wanted to keep her. “You feel so good around me. Could stay inside of you forever.” His nose brushed over hers. They could both feel the change. It had been brewing for a while, but right now it was getting to be a lot. Getting to be so much that neither could ignore it- though Harry wasn’t trying to for his sake.

“Stay.” She swallowed the word with a kiss, letting it reverb off his lips. “Stay, stay in me forever.”

Harry couldn’t help take it. Flipping them over so he was on top, gently laying her on the couch and making sure she was cushioned, he began to thrust inside of her. Slow, deep, feeling her cunt flutter around him as she gasped wetly into the air. Her hands clung to him, one buried inside of his hair and the other digging into his back, leg wrapping around his waist to pull him in.

Close. She wanted closer. “Oh my god- oh my god.” She gasped, feeling him deeper than she had before. The angle was perfect, the one lifted leg allowing him to slot right in. “There, there- H, baby-“ she let out a whine as he covered her mouth with his, snapping his his particularly hard and staying still for a moment.

“Baby- angel, please.” He pleaded. “Gonna make me cum when y’sound like that. Feels so fucking good, you keep clenching… trying to milk my fucking cock.” He grunted, almost frustrated. It felt too good like this, her body was trying to take it. “Want to go bare one day. I want it.” He nuzzled against her, the hand returned under her neck and pulled her head up so he could kiss down her neck.

“Want to be the only one you have. Haven’t wanted anyone else… just want to be bare and feel you around me. Want you to be mine.” The words slurred against her skin, Y/N whining with each thrust. The statement aroused her and soothed at the same time, her head nodding frantically.

“Yes- yes, yes, next time. Please- next time, bare. Want to be the only one. You are. Only one I want inside me like this. Harry- please.” She pleaded with him. “Please, please, want you to cum inside me and I want-“ she hiccuped, his speed increasing and the power of his thrusts making her feel so good that her mind was a bit scrambled. “Want to feel you dripping out of me and I want… want you to own it. Want to remember it when I go out or when we go with our friends.” It was what she had been thinking finally dug out by the sheer connection and pleasure. Harry had a knack for getting her to admit things.

“Fuck baby you can’t-“ his sharp inhale was felt against her lips, his hips stuttering as his thrusts got sloppier. “Can’t tell me that. I’ll do it. I’ll fill you, I’ll have you. I’ll be the only one bare inside you, fuck- I’m gonna cum.”’he warned. Usually he lasted far longer, and honestly would probably be a bit embarrassed at how quickly he came this time but… the things she was saying. It struck a white hot nerve in his mind that had his cock throbbing inside of her, ready and eager to give her exactly what she asked for.

“Harder. Go a bit harder and I’ll-“ Y/N didn’t even have to finish her sentence. Pulling her leg up more, he went for it. The timed thrusts, her hand going between her legs and rubbing frantically at her swollen clit, the sheer energy in the room having these confessions had her near the edge. The sound of their skin and his grunts, her whimpers bounced off the walls, the TV long forgotten as they chased their orgasms.

Harry was first. He hadn’t meant to, but looking right into her eyes and seeing the pleasure all over her face, feeling her cunt at the brink of her own release had him spilling into the condom. Imagining it next time. No barrier. Painting her cunt with his cum, making a mess. Letting it slip down her thighs and know that she would feel it- it was too much for him. A deep, guttural groan left his mouth as he unloaded inside of the condom, face pulled up in sheer bliss as Y/N followed.

She shook, clawing at his back with a soft wail of his name as she felt the final slam inside of her, fingers rubbing over her slippery clit as the electricity of their gazes only spurred her over the edge. His beautiful face, his noises, him being the one inside of her. It was everything. Swirls of color behind her eyes as she felt him collapse inside of her neck again, a weak groan of her name solidified it.

This was everything. He was far more than a best friend. This wasn’t just sex.

This was love.

When would they confront it?

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #Harry styles best friend #bffrry #bff smut #bff harry styles #bff!h #flame #flamerry #flame Harry #bff harry #best friend harry styles #best friend h #best friend harry #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

[probablyhuntersmom]

As Hunter puts the work in to recover and heal, looking back on Belos's 'kindness' in offering him a staff, taking him in, and providing the opportunity to be special as the Golden Guard...will be confusing and will involve seemingly conflicting emotions.

Having that treatment from his 'uncle' was the only reference point of feeling loved, while experiencing terror deeper down. This lasted for years before he met Luz and co.

He has overall spent less time in the new framework of healthy found family, than the years in the Castle.

I was looking at scenes from a couple of movies - the Black Widow movie and also Blade Runner 2049 (spoilers for both movies ahead, obviously) - as psychology references to see how two other fictional characters recalled their confusing but significant memories.

These examples carry some big concepts, one of which is that we "recall with our feelings". Not with pure impersonal logic that neatly trims away false info and discards it. If only it were that easy to dust our hands clean this way when healing from trauma.

In Black Widow, Yelena is the character who wears her heart on her sleeve the most, like Hunter naturally does. When confronted with the revelation that her happy childhood was staged, naturally Yelena feels betrayed:

(the GIF file for above was too big so lol I just screencapped a still frame from it)

But she quickly makes a conscious decision on how she wants to view those good memories, when hearing her sister Natasha saying it was all fake. This is perhaps her most important line in the movie:

She still chose to believe it had all been real. She is actively claiming the meaning that her good childhood had provided for her. Choosing what kind of lens she'd like to view those memories through. Defending that good meaning. Because her life fell apart after that good childhood came to an end. She could choose to say it was all fake, if she wanted to see it as fake.

She confronts Melina, her (staged) maternal figure who obviously isn't her biological or even a proper adoptive mother, and says: "You are my mother. You were my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one."

When it comes to Hunter, he wouldn't find it as straightforward to acknowledge that the times when Belos was nice to him "felt real". Would he ever want to view the late Emperor as his uncle? Not via any conscious decision, I'm sure...since he's the opposite of Yelena here. Hunter's safe haven was after he escaped the Emperor's Coven, but Yelena's haven was at the start of her life, which she wished had been permanent.

Those months of summer when Hunter spent time away from Belos in the human realm must've been so special for him. But when faced with inevitable confusing flashbacks especially after Belos's death (that involve the subconscious, not conscious, part of his mind), he's still going to feel that the Emperor was a close family member whom he had an attachment with. Belos was the closest thing he ever had to family for so long.

In the Black Widow example, Yelena felt that Melina was her mother, from an early age. Around two decades later in her young adulthood, she still feels that this is the case, and consciously still wishes for that. She was lucky to be able to reconcile with Melina in the movie.

Hunter isn't as lucky. While he recovers, I don't think he can simply dismiss what it felt like to be told that he is part of a family (even if it was a lie) in such fragile formative years:

As an example, if I had first been told at age 5 by a parent that they promised to protect me, only to find out a decade later that they actually wouldn't have ever cared if I died...I would be hella confused.

Quoting a guest lecturer from my first year of therapist training, the part of our brains responsible for reasoning and logic - the prefrontal cortex - does not begin to seriously mature until our late teen years. Which is why early childhood memories can't just be viewed by our adult selves and easily trimmed away and viewed in black-or-white as truth-or-lie. Those early years are sensitive for us all, in how they shape us later in life. That inner child is still in each of us.

Blade Runner 2049's protagonist, K, has an arc that takes a different direction: he had actual false memories implanted that were not even his own, but the theme that is consistent for this post is those memories still felt real to him, and thus affected him emotionally. He felt unfulfilled and wanted something new, to feel like he had a soul, which led him on this risky quest. Sadly, he easily believed in a lie because it matched the truth he wished for. Thus, even false memories could feel real to him because he was desperate for meaning in life.

This movie has a cyberpunk dystopian setting, so it's of course more bleak. K was made to believe so strongly in those memories because he was ultimately used as just smokescreen, to keep the real person (who had those memories) well-hidden. Below, he speaks to the memory maker who formed his false memories. She is a very skilled deceiver, and successfully engineers experiences that didn't actually happen because she inserts fragments of truth here and there.

And she makes some good points about how she succeeds at implanting false memories:

Especially the last two lines, "We recall with our feelings. Anything real should be a mess."

Linking back to Hunter, it would be a tough process to learn how to make peace with his childhood with Belos. Because anything that felt real would be a mess.

And K has a similar line as Yelena did:

The running theme I spotted is the realness of confusing memories for these characters, because their inner conflicts involve questioning themselves: whether or not they were just imagining the good feelings they felt.

While we never got confirmation whether Belos used false memories or not, I'm inclined to think he didn't...in order to work more subtly and over a long period of time on Hunter as his latest grimwalker project. The deadlier lies are the ones with many bits of truth scattered throughout their intricate webs, like what the memory maker in Blade Runner 2049 could pull off.

Belos's treatment would've felt kind to Hunter at the time. As they say, how we feel about any experience we have is "what we make of it". Or how we choose to view the experience.

I think Hunter needed to believe his uncle really was kind, while maintaining his own image, in order to keep going and survive.

This tragically meant he had to believe he wasn't doing enough.

It is always scarier for an abused child to see that their parent in fact isn't loving after all/isn't a good person, compared to imposing shame upon themselves and believing they aren't good enough.

Of course, all this would've changed by the time we get to here and beyond:

Memory is subjective and our minds are so powerful that they find evidence to seemingly confirm any kind of beliefs that we form.

All three characters in this post were cogs in a machine, reduced to being pawns in a scheme...until they later had the space to decide things for themselves.

As seen in Hunter's efforts in his Golden Guard days to be good enough in the role, Yelena taking a stand to preserve the purity of an untainted childhood (even if it was staged and not organic), K defying authority to cross a line in his duties and get answers about who he was....this is how much we as humans will clamber to grasp onto a sense of personhood, to give our lives meaning and survive the best we can.

Yelena wanted to preserve the memories of her childhood as good, as a haven or a warm fuzzy bubble to look back on, because it got torn apart before she reunited with her family many years later.

Obviously Hunter can't do exactly the same i.e. preserving the entirety of his time in the Castle as "good", since he has now been able to see that Belos was a constant threat upon his life. However, he could still look back on smaller pockets of his childhood as pleasant, by isolating those specific memories.

We have two examples in canon: the way he grins when remembering the experience of being left on top of the mountain and climbing back down. And him saying that "weekends were nice" since he tasted partial freedom by being outdoors going on missions.

In fact, he would likely start out wanting to erase his childhood, view it as entirely bad and terrible to revisit, and try to force himself to forget its significance and start afresh. But this would only worsen the unpleasant emotions associated with this time of his life that he'd rather wish had not existed.

Mental health recovery is counter-intuitive: avoiding or denying emotions tend to make them grow bigger and scarier, while letting them feel seen and heard can help them along to shrink and positively transform over time. Hunter's therapist would have to provide him with psychoeducation on this so that he doesn't feel like he's grieving wrongly. It would bring him more peace if he can acknowledge both of these seemingly conflicting truths:

Factually, Belos did lie to him and betray him.

(Here's the important part) Emotionally, if the 'kindness/love' offered by Belos felt real at the time, received by Hunter's very legit need for attachment and meaning, then yes, it was real.

Both these points can coexist. Belos's love was untrue in the factual sense (we in the audience can easily see this), yet true in the emotional sense for a young child like who Hunter was. Which is what makes it hard.

Someone would ask Hunter, "Do you think he loved you?" and the answer isn't simple. Maybe it'd be something like "He didn't, but I felt like he really did." And the second half of that sentence ("but I felt like he really did") honestly doesn't need to be changed or removed, and the grief in those words should be honoured. Belos only cared about meeting Hunter's emotional needs as a means to an end, and as strange as it sounds to say this...it did help Hunter survive long enough, however mistreated he was. Because he still clung on to meaning and a purpose in his life.

The love wasn't there in the technical sense: instead it was a twisted version of Philip's love for Caleb, not any love extended towards Hunter. But this love still felt mostly real to Hunter before he fled the coven.

And I bet that even if it was for a split-second, Belos's gaslighting of "Why are you hurting me? I only wanted to help you" felt real and true to the poor kid here:

before Hunter expressed that he knew who Belos truly was as a person: a liar.

#toh hunter #the owl house #toh analysis #loz writes a meta #another spontaneous meta after I watched Blade Runner 2049 today #I keep writing about my little baby and I ain't sorry #abuse mention #trauma mention