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#oh thank god my tags are fixed
benoits-neckerchieves · 11 months
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Omg literally everything he does is so sweet I’m gonna die 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
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four-pointed-leaf · 3 months
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love ur human loop, most normal and deranged guy ever, other people drawing human loop in elaborate outfits, meanwhile loop in a big t- shirt and boxers (not to say im not a fan of elaborate outfits on them but like The Contrast (tm))
no literally like dgmw i love loop in Outfits and will probably draw that at some point soon but like. to me post-canon loop is like. a guy who is convinced they are living in the epilogue of their successful clone’s life. Eventually they will slay but it’s gonna take like three years of therapy and probably a considerable amount of lexapro. for now it’s depression fit
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waitineedaname · 6 months
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@patron-saints tagged me in a "list five topics you can talk about for an hour without preparing any material" post!
I'm echoing what julianna said, the fact that the two of us called each other for six straight hours to talk about the untamed really says something lmao
outer wilds!! do not get me started on that game. oh my god. I will talk your ear off about it.
star wars, specifically how I think I could fix her
medieval literature, especially arthurian romances. I just think they're fun <3 gotta put that english degree to good use!
is it cheating to say the thing I am literally in grad school for? I could probably talk for hours about sociolinguistics since that is my academic niche lmao
I'll tag @gamergirlcrustacean, @puzzlehat, @buffintruder, @birbliophile, and @daychiie!
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qqqqqqqqqqq0 · 3 months
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i've been having some trouble falling asleep lately
#art#i'll be yapping in the tags#its not that im depressed or anything. it is the opposite actually#ive been using this medicine for quite some time. and it made all my negative emotions disappear#“oh wow huh but isnt it great you don't feel bad anymore”. this is the same thing my psychiatrist told me when we were discussing this topic#in hindsight it was kinda silly of her to say. i can't believe i pay a ridiculous amount of money per session just to hear shit like that#but she's cute and im a pathetic homosexual who'll seethe at the sight of other specialists like a beaten dog so I will let it slide i guess#we see each other twice a year anyway and all i need from her is the prescription for happy pills. anyway the happypillen#i would fight god if it means i can use stertraline for the rest of my life. thanks to it i can and i do live#but I don't really feel like myself anymore. do you get what i mean#the things that have been giving me anxiety attacks or flashbacks not so long ago? i feel almost nothing about it at this momet#it still haunts me to this day but the intensity of my feelings and emotions does not reach even 1/5 of what it was before#i do not want to disclose more specific topics so i will use a simple example. i used to be afraid of dogs#the fear was so severe that the mere sight of the tiniest little barfing creature was enough for me to freeze#now i can pass one without any problem. the fear i feel today is nothing more than a shadow of bygone times (something i do out of habit)#but i guess this example is not objective enough since my close irl friend has a dog that i became fond of#im still pretty sure this dog of her is capable of biting my ass off if necessary but im not afraid of it#because fear is not an option in this brain of mine at this moment#i don't feel any anxiety sadness or anger anymore. even if something close to it begins to rise in me it shuns down within a few minutes#i can't even cry. i am craving emotions that i was so eagerly trying to dispose of back then#i feel the most mentally stable I have ever been and at the same time i feel pretty much dead.#perhaps i just got used to the fact that sorrow accompanied me for a very long time and i should learn to live without it#perhaps sorrow is just as important as happiness and its absence is a mere side effect of the happy pills#and i have to put up with it in order to have a functional brain#perhaps we people are never happy with what we have in our hands. also i hate drawing#one's can tell since the picture i attached is raw as fuck#but even despite my praised mental stability if i were to stay alone with it even for a minute longer i would go insane#next time i will draw something lighter and cuter. like my favorite kpop boy or fortnite. maybe in the next century#thanks for coming to my tedtalk. bye#i made a typo in the word “sertraline” but im too lazy to fix it i would fight god for you but i will not do this im sorry zoloft
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squuote · 3 months
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mori at age 10-12 after their entire hunting crew that took them in was just brutally slaughtered: wow. prometheus is so nice to shapeshift into the crew to comfort me when I need it. he’s such a great guy
prometheus who is most certainly not a shapeshifter:
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cestacruz · 6 months
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Mmm Jeanne
#servants cant learn new stuff (i'll talk about jalter in a second) therefore#jeanne shouldnt know how to read or write#we actually Dont get a confirmation that she can do those things in summer 3. because the book that jalter thought jeanne wrote#was actually Her own book#jeanne works with marie. maybe she comes up with the ideas and does rough drawings that marie would be Delighted to bring to life#marie reads to jeanne is my image#jalter taught herself how to read and write and i think that was possible because of the unstability of her existence#if you try to teach jeanne how to read and write it will stick for a second but if like idk 15-20 min pass she would likely find herself#unable to read again and her writting to be suboptimal#she can sign her own name ofc thats historical#she can recite the bible from memory iirc#i love jalter's ability to be her own person even if it comes with the fact that she is very much. an ephemeral dream#like her FCKING SKILL IS CALLED.#WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS FGO#anyway. now jeanne again but physical#oughhh thank u for the support in the tags when i said jeanne should have self image issues because she looked different in life#i hadnt fully talked bout it i just went with hair but yeah. i need to check again because im pretty sure her body wasnt Suuuper different#but i just gotta confirm#but im just so i love the idea of her just not liking the way she manifested abd not knowing Why she manifested like that#when there are Countless depictions of her with her short brown hair#sieg looks to the side whistling (its not his fault but he knows the pseudo servant part#and its probably a mix of . fate apocrypha's manifestation and of how some people imagined jeanne looked like#but it still upsets her#not that she'd ever complain to people#you can probably get it out of her tho#unrelated and only to those who reached this far: im thinking of a singularity set in 15th century orleans in the Middle of the hundred year#war. but the difference aint “oh jeanne d'arc came back to life evil” rather than “there seems to be a battle here where it shouldnt and oh#my god is that jeanne- oh god jeanne d'arc fucking died--#and chaldeas has to try and fix the war without living breathing jeanne d'arc#actually thats not the middle of the 100yearwar but yknow what i mean. also haha jk unless...
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daydadahlias · 1 year
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hey btw your ao3 profile still says you’re 19
oh no !!!!! I’m basically catfishing
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echthr0s · 9 months
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lightning-bolt thought: Osiris-called-Azem is an Extinction Entity
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catzgam3rz · 1 year
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OKAY HOLD ON why the hell can my physiotherapy office change my appointment to HALF AN HOUR BEFORE SCHEDULED with NO NOTICE THREE HOURS BEFORE I NEED TO BE THERE
BUT STILL SAY CANCELLATIONS WITHIN 24 HOURS WILL HAVE A FEE??????????
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mikey-stardust-way · 3 months
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Excuse me everyone I gotta go like kill myself-
BECAUSE I'M DYING ALREADY FROM EMOTIONS OH MY GOD HELLOOOO AHHHHHHHHHH HI!?!? HELP! HEEEELP!?!?!
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I MAKE STUPID POST ABOUT CLUTCH- AND SUDDENLY IM THE KING OF POSSOM SHITPOSTING AND DILF LOVERS UNTITED!?!?!??!!!!!!!
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chuluoyi · 9 months
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
general masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
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strang3lov3 · 6 months
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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tasteleeknow · 9 months
Text
LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
2K notes · View notes
limethefirst · 2 months
Note
PART 2 OF VOID RUNNERS PLEASEE😭🙏
Void Runners Pt.2
pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader
warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, crude humor, Deadpool
summary: After escaping Cassandra's lair you find yourself tagging along with Deadpool and Wolverine in hopes of saving their universe as well as getting out of the void
Part 1
a/n: Ask and you shall receive! This is a continuation of Void Runners since people seemed to really enjoy it! I hope it lives up to what you guys were expecting, I was thinking of ways to involve the reader a bit more! Request are open
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You had no idea what was happening. One moment you were watching as Cassandra was about to let the giant monster known as Alioth eat you, the next you were being squished by Deadpool on some type of rocket soaring through the sky escaping the close clutches of death itself.
There wasn't much time to process anything because you were already about to crash, and were flung straight into the hard, dusty ground you've come to know as the Void.
A groan escaped you lips as you sat up, looking towards your new companion's, Deadpool and Wolverine; noticing how Deadpool was on top of him, your brows raised a bit.
"What cha' thinking 'bout?" Deadpool asked him, his voice laced with an innocent tone.
Logan wasn't fond of this at all, "Get the fuck off of me," he said, almost growling at the man.
"Shh shh, almost done"
"Almost done what?!" he look up at Deadpool, concerned about what he meant by that.
Deadpool now changed his tone to a more annoyed one, "Getting my knife out of your buttock, you pervert! Get your bind out of my pants!" Both men were now getting up, "I'm telling Blake!"
Deadpool looked over to you and grabbed your arm pulling you up next to him. Then he gave you a silly thumbs up, which you didn't understand why but just gave him a smile in return as a thank you for the gesture.
"New rule!" Logan began again, "I talk now" this time he looked at you as well.
"I haven't even said anything?!" You looked at him confused. Throwing your arms up a bit, and looking at Deadpool as well.
"Hush little one, Papa is talking right now" Deadpool looked over to you, holding up one finger to signal you to be quiet as he talked to Logan. You threw your arms up again now looking at Logan as he groaned at whatever was going on, obviously exhausted.
"Shut the fuck up!" Logan had now turned around, "Let me fucking think, we gotta get back to paradox right? Right?"
"Am I allowed to speak now?" Deadpool asked him sarcastically, you could tell he was smiling.
"Just nod asshole" Logan was fed up at this point.
Deadpool gave in and gave Logan a slight up and down, letting his buddy say what he needed to. Logan then looked at you as if something in his brain clicked.
"Johnny said something about others before you got him killed!"
"Poor kid? He was like fifty!" Deadpool shoots back, insulted by the comment.
Logan looked back at you, "You've been here longer then any of us have, do you know where we can find these guys?"
You hesitated before speaking to him, "I have an idea," you said, Logan looked back at Deadpool and nodded.
"You're gonna help us find them and get us out of here," Logan told you. He wasn't willing to listen to any protest, but you didn't care to argue, this was your chance at escape and by God you were gonna take it.
"Alright, I'll do my best then." You nodded at him, jumping on the bandwagon of opportunity.
"Oh I knew it was a good idea to bring you along sugar sprinkles!" Deadpool said as he patted your back, which honestly felt more like a hard slap, that lightly pushed you forward.
"You better fix my shit like you fucking promised," Logan pointed his finger at Deadpool's chest as you stepped to the side, look straight ahead noticing something in the distance.
"I smell a quest!"
"I smell food,"
This caused both men to look at what you were looking at.
A little restaurant not to far from here.
Logan was turning the place upside, you were unsure what he was looking for as he'd already found you guys some unopened spam to eat.
Deadpool finally had his mask off and you noticed what he looked like without it, you couldn't help but feel bad for him, even with the way he is, something tragic must have happened for his face to be all scarred the way it was.
"So what made you finally wear an honest to God costume?" He asked in between bites, "Mines red so they can't see me bleed." This time he turned to you and gave you a strange smile as he took yet another bite. "I can see how yellow can be useful too!"
Logan turned around and stared him down, "Have you been checked for ADHD?"
"Nu uh," Deadpool answered, mouth full with a big smile.
"You should," This time you answered as you finally tried the spam, it wasn't too bad for God knows how old it could've been.
You could hear a chuckle come from Logan as he continued his search.
"Though I've had several STD's, probably caused by ADHD" Deadpool told you guys.
You just rolled your eyes at him, wondering where he gets these ideas from. You guys both sat there longer watching Logan. Deadpool sat on one side of the booth, you sat on the edge of the table a bit, and Logan was still searching.
"What are you even looking for?" You asked the bigger man, curious what was making him more frustrated then the red masked fellow next to you.
All you heard was a mumble before you saw him grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
"No no no no no, that's rubbing alcohol, you don't want to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Logan had already chugged most of it down, you turned a bit to him and sat yourself next to Deadpool watching Logan come towards the table, "Oh yup there you go, there you go, fuck that liver."
"Don't come to me when you need a liver transplant," Deadpool gave an amused snuff at your comment and turned back to the big fellow.
"What the fuck are those?" Logan was looking at, staples in Deadpool's head? You turned to look at it and you stared a little too hard that you could see the little strands of most likely fake hair pinched in between it.
"Oh, back in civilian life I wore a toupee, but nobody knows," Deadpool gave a little smile as he looked at you guys, touching his phantom hair.
Both you and Logan began to laugh a little at this, "They fucking know" you told him.
Logan joined in on the teasing, "Everybody knows," Logan gave you a smile, being glad someone else is there to help him tease the annoying red suited vigilante.
"Wanna talk about what's haunting you, or are we gonna wait for a third act flashback?"
"Ughh go fuck yourself," this was all it took for Logan to go back to the bar stools as he sat there, drinking his rubbing alcohol.
You gave Deadpool and annoyed look at elbowed him a bit, trying to get him to lay off the man a bit; it seemed to get through to him, as he rolled his eyes and began to talk again, "In my world, you're uh, well regarded."
"Not in mine," Logan didn't look back, he just took another sip.
"Well they don't like me much in my world," Deadpool said trying to lighten the mood.
"We couldn't tell.." You told him, as you stood up and threw away your empty spam cup.
"I wanted to be something, you know? Shit, I wanted to be an Avenger!"
"Fuck the Avengers,"
"I didn't make the cut though, same with the X-men," Deadpool paused, picking his next words wisely. "My girlfriend left me,"
"You had a girlfriend?" Logan asked, with genuine curiosity.
"Yea, Vanessa, when we met she was a dancer, made a whole life, it was good, but oh boy I just, uh"
You stood by the trash, leaning against the wall, not wanting to intrude on their moment.
"But fuck, you were an X-men, fuck that you were the X-man. You, uh the Wolverine, you were a hero in my world."
"Yea well, he ain't shit in mine." Logan finished his drink, if that's what you could even call it.
Deadpool turned to you, as if asking you to say something too. You let out a bit of a sigh before speaking.
"You saved me in my world."
Logan turned his head a little bit, and Deadpool gave you a somber look, unlike his normal self.
"I was in an accident, but I saw this man with metal claws, he helped me, he got me out." You closed your eyes and breathed.
"It inspired me to become who I am today, every Wolverine, is a hero in every universe, no matter what." You looked up at the both of them, "Well it's what I think at least. I didn't recognize you at first, but when I heard your name, I knew who you were, even if you aren't from my universe."
Logan looked back down at his empty hands, he began to think. The silence was killing you. Deadpool could tell and so he went back to his normal demeanor. "Alright sugar tits," Deadpool looks at Logan, "Time to go!"
It was time to continue your adventure in finding the people who would help you escape this place.
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interstellarflare · 3 months
Text
A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton
-PART FOUR-
Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.
Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @catalinabaylors
|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|
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Sooner than he would have liked, the time to leave for Lady Danbury’s ball crept up on Anthony. Truth be told, he really wasn’t looking forward to tonight.
Eloise still wasn’t speaking with him, at least politely anyway. She would glare, scoff in annoyance every time he opened his mouth, and often snapped a snide remark in reply to a question.
Anthony could see that his mother, Violet, was incredibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. She had warned the two of them to sort out their differences before arriving at Lady Danbury’s residence, otherwise the two would be an embarrassment to not only themselves, but the Bridgerton House. Even if was only just for the night.
The carriage jostled about along the cobblestone street, with Violet, Eloise and Anthony sitting in complete awkward silence. Anthony could feel his sister’s glare burning holes into his head, the tension weighing heavily as his gaze moved to settle on his mother. Violet looked between her two children nervously.
They were to be at Lady Danbury’s residence any second now, appearing before the ton in such a state was not a good look for anyone. “Now I don’t know what is bothering the both of you, but you two need to resolve this matter quickly. You are both the face of our family tonight-“
“Mother-“
“Enough! I have never seen the two of you bicker like this before, it is unlike you both. Now I suggest that you settle this matter here and now, before we are to arrive” Violet snapped, glaring harshly between her two children before her. All Anthony could do was sigh. He heard Eloise scoff, shifting uncomfortably beside him as she grumbled “Fine. I will play nice for now, but you need to actually open your eyes-“
“Open my eyes to what!?” Anthony exclaimed, turning his body to face her fully “You had told me nothing! What exactly am I supposed to be looking for here?”
“It is so plainly obvious, even Colin could figure it out”
“Then why don’t you tell me!?” Anthony shouted, hearing his mother sigh heavily across from him.
Eloise glared, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was progressing. He noticed that her hands had now clenched into fists by her side, her eyes falling to the carriage floor. “I…I cannot, I am sworn to secrecy-“
“Oh for the love of-“
“Oh thank god, we’ve arrived…” Violet breathed nervously, fixing her cream and gold patterned dress as she adjusted her gloves anxiously. Both Anthony and Eloise fell into silence, anger bubbling in his chest as he continued to stare at his sister.
Something was going on, and it irked him to not know what it was. He felt the carriage stop, and turned his gaze towards his mother as she quickly exited the carriage and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Next was Eloise, who cleared her throat and fixed her skirts as she moved toward the carriage door, but Anthony stopped her. He gently grabbed her forearm, stopping her from moving as she quickly turned to face him, a furious expression on her features.
“Does this have something to do with Y/n? The girl we met this morning?”.
He’d been wanting to ask that question since their return home, since Benedict had bothered him all afternoon about his feud with their sister. If this was supposedly about you in some way or another…why? He knew that you and Eloise were close, good friends even. But what did Eloise, and supposedly Colin know that the rest of the ton did not? What was going on in the Worthington household?
The way Eloise’s expression softened confirmed his suspicions, she sighed heavily. “I can say no more, but I will say this to you, and I want you to think about it…really think about it. The ton knows that Lady Worthington married Lord L/n upon his late wife’s passing, and she adopted Lord L/n’s daughter alongside her own. So, think on this dear brother…what happened to her?”
Anthony froze, his brow furrowing as he though on Eloise’s words. He hadn’t thought about it really, no one had seen Lord L/n’s daughter since his passing. He’d heard rumours that she had run away in grief, leaving behind her family estate and fortune to Lady Worthington and her daughters. He remembered he’d only seen her once, he’d attended one of Lady Danbury’s balls as a child with his mother and late father. He had been quite nervous being amongst all those people, but he couldn’t take his eyes off a young girl about his age, perhaps a little younger, dancing with some of the men and women at the ball.
She had the brightest smile, and a contagious laugh. It was only after the ball upon their return home that Anthony had asked his father who that girl was. Upon hearing that it was the daughter of Lord L/n, he’d hoped to see her again. But he never had.
Violet stuck her head back inside the carriage, glaring at the two of them harshly. “Will the two of you get out!? People are watching!” She exclaimed in a hushed whisper, urging the two of them out with her hand. Eloise forced her arm out of her brother’s hold and stepped outside, smiling forcefully up at her mother as she tried to appear happy.
But Anthony was stunned. He felt rather uncomfortable now, unsure of what to think or do now with this knowledge. It irked him, made his stomach churn uneasily as he stepped out of the carriage and fixed his jacket. His eyes met Eloise’s once again, and he couldn’t help but feel sad. He entered the ball by her side, his arm looped through hers as they moved about the crowd of people. His mother had disappeared to speak with Lady Danbury, he could see the two on the other side of the room gossiping to themselves happily.
He felt as if he was in a trance. Amongst the dazzling light of the chandelier and the multitude of candelabras strewn about the room, he couldn’t focus. The sounds, the surroundings, everything was blurring into one big mass. He left Eloise for a moment, allowing her to mingle with some other debutants while he chose to escape outside for a moment of fresh air.
He felt sick, an uneasy feeling settling in his chest. It had only been an hour since their arrival, but all Anthony wanted to do was leave. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t actually come to terms with what Eloise was suggesting…if she was even suggesting that in the first place. He took a deep breath in, now turning back to face the congregation inside.
He couldn’t go back inside, not after seeing Lady Worthington and her daughters enter the room with an extravagant pose. Upon seeing Lady Worthington, dressed in a deep blue gown with golden shawl draped over her shoulders, Anthony jumped the small balcony and landed in the gardens below. He fixed his jacket, releasing a quick breath as his eyes quickly darted around to make sure no one had seen him.
Though…he had to be the most unfortunate man at the ball tonight.
“What the hell are you doing!?” Benedict exclaimed in a hushed tone, a confused yet furious expression on his features.
Anthony flinched, lifting his gaze upward and giving his brother an awkward grin.
“Cover for me”.
“Excuse me!?”
“Just…be there for Eloise…” Anthony groaned in annoyance, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly “…I have some business I need to take care of-“
“Don’t you dare leave me here with…” Benedict growled, his entire form freezing as he heard the shrill voice of a woman call out to him, one that Anthony couldn’t help but snicker at “…that.”
“It would appear that Miss Mary Worthington requires your presence, dear brother. Perhaps it is I that will enjoy your misfortune instead-“
“Oh, oh ha ha ha…” Benedict snapped sarcastically, glaring down at his older brother with annoyance “…you’re such little bas-“
“Give my sincerest apologies to our mother, and I shall see you upon my return home!” Anthony called out as he spun on his heel and jogged away, laughing quietly to himself as his brothers’ pleading cries faded into the distance.
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racecardilfs · 4 months
Text
aegean - fa14 smau
fernando alonso x fem!singer!reader
summary: fernando alonso and his girlfriend break up, but is it really over?
warnings: angst no fluff! some slut shaming moments, fernando does NOT look good in this one, but theres more going on behind the scenes i promise xx
a/n: this has no specific face claim, and the songs mentioned are from a variety of artists! there will be a list at the end of the post ♡ there is a part two to this all planned out, it will be posted shortly, hopefully!
my masterlist ❀ part two
Twitter
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Instagram
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Liked by yourbsf2, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 212,964 others
yourusername shout out to my girls 🫶 i love you forever!
tagged: yourbsf1, yourbsf2, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes
yourbsf1: YOURE SO PRETTY I LOVE YOU WIFE!!!!!
yourusername: NO YOU!!
alexandrasainmleux: pretty pretty girl!!
yourusername: can’t wait for another date with you gorgeous 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 charles_leclerc: excuse me? yourusername: you’re excused, vroom vroom boy 😒
user1: gorgeous gorgeous girls have breakup parties together
yourusername: you know it!!! user2: CONFIRMATION? IM DEVASTATED. RUINED. WALKING INTO THE OCEAN.
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Liked by f1, astonmartinf1, and 375,599 others
fernandoalo_official Greece, you were beautiful🤩A few days off before it’s back to the track again! 🏎️
User3: Sir, I don’t know what you did, but you better fix it right the fuck now.
User4: how do you know it was his fault? we don't know anything yet User3: bc that woman is literally a saint, there’s no way it was her fault User5: don’t get me wrong, i love y/n so much, but there’s no way for us to know what happened. it might not have been anyones fault, and neither of them need this energy if they’re trying to get over their breakup :’( i’m rooting for both of them
Hater1: Always knew she was bad for you, congrats man!
astonmartinf1: see you soon, sir!
Twitter
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Instagram
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Liked by yourbsf1, charles_leclerc, maisiehpeters, and 264,978 others
yourusername been a little busy lately, but i’ve got something cooking for you all!
yourbsf2: love you so big <3
yourusername: i love you the biggest! 💓
alexandrasaintmleux: can’t wait for everyone else to hear it!!
user6: PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW!!!! 🙏 alexandrasaintmleux: 🤫
user 7: oh… this is gonna wreck me, isnt it.
lilymhe: yeah… you’ll thank her though
user8: the last photo 💔 i promise it gets easier, y/n
Liked by yourusername
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Liked by finneas, coltonherta, yukitsunoda0511, and 516,785 others
yourusername remember when i said i had something cooking? my album ‘aegean’ is out now. a lot of love and hurt went into this album, and now it’s yours. i hope it means as much to you as it does to me <333
finneas: it was such a blast to work with you on this album, lets do it again soon!!
yourusername: yes please!
francisca.cgomes: so proud of you babe, just lmk when you want to run away and elope!
yourusername: my bags are packed and waiting! pierregasly: guess i’ll just leave you both to it 🧍
yourbsf2: wow look at how cool and pretty and talented my best friend is, everyone!!!
yourusername: ugh i love you so much
alexandrasaintmleux: still so excited!!! can we please go get late night ice cream to celebrate
yourbsf1: seconded francisca.cgomes: thirded! yourusername: ok to the groupchat before this is a long chain xx alexandrasaintmleux: as you wish, babe 👩‍❤️‍👩
user8: oh my god???? surprise drop???? queen behavior
user9: i’m not crying, YOU’RE crying!
user10: ur crying too, dont lie! user9: ok yeah. have you HEARD aegean? how could i not be screaming crying throwing up.
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Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, yourbsf1, and 228,531 others
lilymhe this amazing, beautiful girl did something amazing and beautiful again! y/n, i am so so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. please never let the hurt keep you down, because you are absolutely incredible. We will always be there to pick you back up if you need it! midnight ice creams with you are something i will cherish forever 🫶
tagged: yourusername, yourbsf1, your bsf2, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, maisiehpeters
yourusername: i love you sooo much lily <33333 thank you for being such an incredible friend
lilymhe: i love you forever 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
francisca.cgomes: pretty best friends stick together forever and ever
yourusername: men are temporary, girlfriends are forever
maisiehpeters: might need to move to monaco so i can come to every midnight ice cream from now on
lilymhe: you’re welcome every time!
user11: how do i get this kind of female friendship in my life? 🥺
yourusername: be kind, be yourself, and be open! your people will find you, user11 💕 user11: OMG HI QUEEN ILYSM KEEP BEING YOU!!! thank you so much!
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Fernando Alonso's Instagram messages
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a/n: and that's my first fic! first smau too, so i hope the formatting isn't too bad? i love when reader is friends w the wags, but i also always love to have y/n have friends outside of the paddock, so i hope no one minded! sorry if any of the wags are ooc i just rlly needed a big group of girl friends for this and idk how normal people talk. also was this just propaganda for some of my fav songs/artists? maybe 🤭i'm actually super nervous about this, so i hope you all enjoyed!!! please send me any questions or comments you have!
the songs mentioned are:
While You Were Sleeping - Laufey
Black Hole - boygenius
Lovesick - Laufey
Goddess - Laufey
Wendy - Maisie Peters
anything - Adrianne Lenker
opposite - Sabrina Carpenter
Aegean - Push Baby
Mud - Delaney Bailey
things i wish you said - Sabrina Carpenter
(I Would Have Followed You) - Delaney Bailey
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