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#well there was one of those and someone put text over it saying:
welcometomyoasis · 2 days
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Being Kim Mingyu's passenger princess
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Synopsis: a list of privileges you have as the Kim Mingyu’s passenger princess. Mingyu x gn! reader | fluff, established relationship | 2k words | warnings: reckless driving, consensual touching, slightly suggestive, alcohol, petname (baby), food | requested by anon
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❤︎ Being the Kim Mingyu’s passenger princess is a privilege that has been bestowed upon you by the gods. You wonder if you saved a country in your past life because what could you ever have done to deserve this privilege? Well, as Mingyu would say, you were you. 
❤︎ As Mingyu’s passenger princess, it does mean that he’s going to be on call 24/7 for you. Whenever you need a ride, just text him or call him to let him know. We all know Mingyu is practically a night owl so don’t worry about bothering him at 2am in the morning if you need a ride. He loves to drink alcohol, but he won’t if he knows he might need to pick you up. He would rather come get you himself than have you take a taxi or public transportation. He knows you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. But you’re his significant other. He’s going to pamper you like you’re nobility.  ​​❤︎ This man is whipped for you. If he could follow behind you in his car while staring at you with literal hearts coming out of his eyes, he would do it 100%. But alas, he cannot. So, he does the next best thing - he decorates his car with things that remind him of you. 
❤︎ Yea, let’s just say Mingyu might have gone overboard when decorating… there’s an air freshener in the corner of the passenger side dashboard with the scent that you like. Next to it, there’s this little plushie of a golden retriever you bought for him years ago when you first started dating. And there’s even a cute little cup holder in your favourite colour attached to the air conditioner for you to place your drinks/ water bottle. 
❤︎ That’s not it either. He hangs a little locket that has your picture on it on the rearview mirror. It’s open all the time so when he looks that way, he can always see your adorable face. He also places pictures of you (or pictures of you and him) on the sunvisor. Whenever he pulls it down, he can’t help but smile and giggle when he catches a glimpse of you. 
❤︎ Mingyu is the type of boyfriend who will buy 2 of everything for his car. Leather headrests? There’s 2, with one being attached to each seat. Backrests or seat cushions? Again, there’s 2. Branded sunglasses? 2 in the glove compartment. One for you. One for him. You’re in a relationship, of course he wants you both to match! No, it’s definitely not because he finds it very hot and attractive when you hop into his car, put on your dark sunglasses that match his, and smirk his way. Don’t keep smirking at him though, your smirk might just turn into a look of confusion when he short circuits and can’t remember where he’s supposed to go next.
❤︎ Mingyu is an acts of service kind of guy. He could be listening to you blabber about every thing and everything under the sun, and he will still manage to reach over to pull down your sunshade for you, or adjust the temperature of the car, all without you having to ask. He’s always one step ahead of you as well. If he’s picking you up from somewhere, he’ll ask you if you need anything. For example, if you’re going on a date, do you need a sweater (obviously his oversized sweater)? If you do, he’s grabbing it along the way and passing it to you in the car. Or, he’ll make a detour to pick you up some snacks/ drinks if you’re hungry. 
❤︎ His car itself? It oddly suits him and yet, it doesn’t. Let me explain. You thought his car would be big. Like one of those big SUV type porches or a Mercedes G Wagon. But, the first time Mingyu came to pick you up. He pulled up in an all black sports car. That left you kind of confused. You see. As hot and sleek as an all black sports car is, which suits Mingyu’s attractive looks and superstar status, the interior is also kind of small for someone so tall and bulky. You comically imagined yourself having to either push Mingyu into the car to get all those muscles in, or having to pull him out of the car when he needs to get up. 
❤︎ Don’t worry though, the interior has been adjusted to suit him (and you). You have more than enough space to stretch your legs, and your seat is perfectly adjustable. For Mingyu, he has just enough space to spread out, but the interior is small enough so he can be pretty close to you. Was that the reason why he bought the car? Maybe… he’ll never tell. 
❤︎ Honestly, he bought it for a couple of reasons. First, it’s a sexy looking car. Make no mistake, he bought the car for its looks and not its speed. Sure, he has a racing circuit license but he would never, ever speed in this car. Not with you inside. He would never play with your safety like that. He’s a very careful driver, especially with you by his side. 
❤︎ He just likes pulling up next to you on the curb you were waiting at, rolling down the window, raising his brow to look at you through the top of his sunglasses, and saying “hey baby ~” in a deep voice. He’s a romantic at heart. He’s seen this exact scene happen in tv shows and movies. He knows you find it attractive so why not recreate it with you? His tough, sexy facade drops in an instant though once you hop in the car. Then, he’s cooing or sulking at you adorably. Like “Baby :(( i missed you” or “How’s my pretty baby doing today?”
❤︎ Second, Mingyu thought you would enjoy watching your hot, sexy boyfriend fix the car with grease and sweat all over him. He wants to please you. He’s a giver (in many, many ways…). He likes to check the oil, tire pressure, and the engine when you’re next to him. You’re sitting there, all pretty, with your eyes intensely trained on him? You can bet that Mingyu is flexing his muscles and that he’s rolled up his sleeves just for you. He might bat his lashes at you and ask you to hand him a towel for his sweat. He loves when you hop off your seat and dab the sweat off from his form (or is it that he just loves your hands all over him?). Mingyu is also definitely the kind who will change the spare tire in front of you. He’ll pull the jack out of the car boot and unscrew everything himself. 
❤︎ That being said. As we all know, despite how hot and sexy Mingyu is, he’s also a cutie. A clumsy golden retriever puppy. His plan to look hot while checking the car/ changing the tire backfires sometimes. For one, he forgot that he lives somewhere where there is winter. And now he’s sniffling and shivering and cold from having to make sure the pipes in his car aren’t frozen. Two, he’s clumsy and the spare tire for some reason keeps rolling away from him. Still, it’s not all bad. When these things happen, he’ll look at you with those big puppy eyes and pout. And then you’re coming over to give him cuddles for warmth or comfort in an instant. 
❤︎ Okay, moving on. The last reason why Mingyu bought the car in the first place, is that he loves the close proximity between your bodies when you’re inside the car. You’re both separated by the gear shift in between but you’re close enough to each other. Mingyu likes physical touch. A lot. He’ll drive with one hand while placing his other hand on your thigh. He likes to squeeze your thigh for fun, which makes you (1) slap his hand away gently, (2) smirk at him, (3) roll your eyes at him. Sometimes, he might even be a tease and caress your knee/ thigh gently. Or, it might be an unconscious thing for him because he just likes having that feeling of you under his fingertips. He can’t always look at you with his eyes on the road, so he finds it comforting and reassuring to be touching you in some way. 
❤︎ Mingyu is handsy, but he also loves being touched if that makes sense. When he drives, he spreads out his legs, and slumps comfortably against the seat. He likes the close proximity to your seat because it means your arm can also rest comfortably across his lap. You’ll probably squeeze his thigh or his arm when he is driving as well to reassure him that yes, you’re still there (although it’s not like you could have gone anywhere when you’re on the road). You might lean over and give him a pack on the cheek or arm every now and then too, though that does usually leave him whining and sulking with his bottom lip jutting out adorably because he can’t have a peck on the lips like he wanted. 
❤︎ Mingyu is just too cute for his own good. Watching his side profile, and how he purses his lips in a pout in concentration. It makes you want to coo at him. You’ll definitely giggle a lot when you see him and boop your head lightly against his arm. In turn, Mingyu will raise his eyebrows, amused and endeared. Your little giggles make him smile all the time. He doesn’t need to be looking at you to know that your eyes are curved upwards and that you’re happy. A smile spreads across his face and when you see that it becomes a never ending cycle of you both falling for each other all over again. 
❤︎ Well, that’s the positive, fluffy part about being Mingyu’s passenger princess. Let’s move back to the more sexy parts shall we? Like I said, the car is small. You’re close to each other. Sometimes, when you lean towards each other, your shoulders almost touch. There’s this strange magnetism between you when that happens. It’s as if you want to lean into Mingyu, and yet, there’s this force that stops you from doing so. The close proximity, where you can almost feel Mingyu’s body on yours, leaves you with this feathery, teasing, alluring feeling. It breeds an unexplainable attraction and sensual energy between you two. It’s funny because in times like these, it doesn’t cross your mind to hold his hand/ touch his thigh. And the same could be said for Mingyu. Instead, you let that energy build, and build, and build, until you’re left craving each other’s touch. 
❤︎ The next thing you know, Mingyu can’t wait any longer, and he’s pulled the car to the side of the road. Mingyu’s smashing his lips on yours, running his tongue over your lips. You’re grasping at each other, so tightly, tugging at each other’s clothed bodies desperately. Eventually, you both pull away, gasping for breath and looking at each other through half-lidded eyes, kind of dazed at the intensity of your kiss. Looking at Mingyu’s disheveled appearance, you can’t help but burst out laughing. You both just kissed like your lives depended on it, and at the side of the road no less. It’s kind of funny to you, just how much you both love and crave each other’s touch. Watching you laugh, Mingyu’s gaze softens. You have an inexplicable ability to make his insides melt and feel like mush. He’s just so enamoured by everything about you.
❤︎ At the end of the day, you might be Kim Mingyu’s passenger princess, but Kim Mingyu? Him in his entirety? He belongs to you.
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taglist:
@weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies
@mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii
@scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee
@hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm @bananabubble
@hyneyedfiz @abibliolife @isabellah29 @starshuas @cheolsposts
@carlesscat-thinklogic23 @jjeongddol @jespecially @gyuguys @eros-aurras
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elsafromcabinsix · 1 day
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that kind of love never dies | chapter one
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summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.
pairing: jake x mc
word count: 1.3K
warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.
author’s note: the next chapter will be available tomorrow.
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Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.
i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant
if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow
i'll be waiting for you :)
Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.
After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.
All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.
Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.
She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.
For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.
Except, of course, the FBI.
Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.
Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.
Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.
Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.
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After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.
She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.
She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.
“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.
“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.
The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.
“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.
She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.
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Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.
Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.
“Someone would definitely approve of that.”
Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.
“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.
“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”
“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”
“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.
“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”
“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”
“Have fun, Cinderella!”
Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.
Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.
“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.
“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”
“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.
The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.
“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”
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taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily
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proseka-headcanons · 4 months
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hear me out... SHIZUMIZU!!!
mizuki definitely shizuku to be their personal model for their costumes!! OH OH and ofc they have shopping dates all the time!!
the picnic event made me think of them and I'm going crazy now
YES YES THAT'S AMAZING THAT'S ADORABLE I LOVE THISNDBDNDBBFBFBBSSSSZZZZ - 🎀
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giantkillerjack · 1 month
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Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!
You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!
You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!
You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!
Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!
Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!
So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.
Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!
You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.
Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!
Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.
Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.
Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*
Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...
Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.
Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.
Better not get confident.
Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)
Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people
- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties
- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations
- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you
- you might start loving the effect you have on a room
- you might enjoy conversations more
- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently
- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations
- you might stop apologizing so much.
- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.
Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!
Why, it would be carnage!!
In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!
If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:
- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.
- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.
- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.
- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.
You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.
So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.
#social skills#i have a few posts now in my ' social skills' tag#original#maybe eventually I will compile them and polish them in some meaningful way. I know what I want to call the book title#in big text it'll say 'I'M AUTISTIC' and then beneath that in smaller text 'And I Have Better Social Skills Than You'#or something to that effect. and the cover of the book will be me making an exaggerated smug face like the little rascal I am#challenging the viewer to pick up the book and see if they can prove me wrong.#and then the entire first section of the book is about how actually the issue with our society's social skills is the harsh judgment#for people who have trouble communicating and not the other way around. I don't actually think I'm the#most charismatic person in the world by a very long shot. but i do know that I have put more thought into my social skills than#most allistic people and frankly i have surpassed most of them. not because i am more persuasive or smooth or funny#(tho i am persuasive and funny lol) but bc i have questioned which social functions are more restriction than utility.#and instead i have focused my energy on actively learning how to make people feel safe. i feel social rules would benefit all people by#being a little more autistic tyvm. i don't think every person should dedicate themselves to being better at communicating#i think people should dedicate themselves to being kind and patient to everyone regardless of their ability to communicate#I think our society wrongly links communication ability to intelligence and intelligence to level of humanity.#when in fact all three of those things are fucking unrelated and connecting them inevitably leads to#really fucked up views on disabled people that hurt us. and then with that aspect of the book firmly understood and established I would#go on to recommend some ways to make socializing easier and more fulfilling (and less shameful and terrifying) for all kinds of people#it wouldn't be a book about Leaning In To Succeed in Business or 'here's how to avoid being the awkward loner at a party'#it'd be a book about how if you see someone alone at a party here's how to invite them to join your group without pressuring them#stuff like 'hot tip! if someone takes a while to type or speak a full sentence - talking over them b4 they can finish makes u an asshole!'#I know that a lot of people cannot or don't want to dump a lot of skill points into socializing like i did and they shouldn't have to in#order to experience basic dignity and respect. if we treat people like that then we just validate that people - especially#autistic children and elders and disabled people of manu varieties - have to suffer unless they learn all these arbitrary bullshit rules#and a lot of them are arbitrary bullshit! one of the reasons I throw people off so much is because I harmlessly break a lot of social rules#but I know I'm doing it and I'm not ashamed and people just don't know what to do with that! but a lot of them like it actually!!#i think it's a relief to be around someone so openly and unrelentingly weird bc what am I gonna do? judge you for being weird??#I only care if you're kind. not necessarily 'nice' or passive. Kind. Brave enough to care about people being treated well. Kind.#also I recognize that at least some of my ability to be openly weird is white privilege so that's important to acknowledge too
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Fanfic Thieves on Youtube
A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.
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”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”
That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.
In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:
Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.
Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.
If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.
Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.
The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.
My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.
Links under the cut.
YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics
What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime
quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).
https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about
DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.
https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about
InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about
WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about
WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll
FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about
WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).
https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW
MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.
https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about
Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.
https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about
https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos
ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."
https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about
FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.
https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about
LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.
https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about
brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"
https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about
whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.
https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about
NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.
https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about
weebxds - Same again.
https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about
ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.
https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about
WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.
https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about
SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.
https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about
https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about
theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.
https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about
SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.
https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about
RosieRealms - Naruto alt.
https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about
DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.
AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.
https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about
Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.
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Chapter 15: Mo leannan
Johnny isn’t stupid. 
Or blind, for that matter.
Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.
And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.
And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.
No, this was different.
Personal.
And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.
They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.
But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…
And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.
It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.
Both of them way too glued to their phones…
His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could… 
And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz. 
That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…
That they would text each other sweet nothings…
That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.
And, well, it was none of his business…
But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.
So, he tried probing.
Just a little.
Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.
He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.
Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.
But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…
And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same… 
So he froze his investigation for a moment.
And he picked it up right. now.
As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.
Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.
And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.
The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.
He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.
Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.
An extra piece of the puzzle…
He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…
There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?
Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?
Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.
A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.
Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.
“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.
“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.
Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.
“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.
“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.
“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.
“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you “deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.
“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.
“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.
“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”
“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”
“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.
Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex. 
“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny. 
Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols. 
His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.
“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.
“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.
He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.
“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.
“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.
Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.
“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.
“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.
The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.
Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.
You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.
“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues. 
“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.
Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.
Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.
You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket.  “Just never thought something like this would happen.”
Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.
“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.
Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.
Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.
Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.
“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth. 
He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.
“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.
“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”
From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.
Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”
“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.
“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.
“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak
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walpu · 4 months
Text
pre-relationship stage with them
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characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country
Gepard
Poor poor Geppie.
He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.
I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.
"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"
"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.
Sure, Gepard. Sure.
He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.
Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.
Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.
Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.
If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.
Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.
Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.
Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.
He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.
Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.
Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.
If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.
Loves giving you head pats.
Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.
Aventurine
Good lord.
This man is such a mess.
Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.
You have to be patient with him okay.
I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.
But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.
Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.
I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.
Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.
Even if it's scary.
Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.
Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.
It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.
On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.
Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.
Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.
Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.
Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.
Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.
Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.
LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.
Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.
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spencerscoven · 1 month
Text
the alternate … art donaldson
Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.
warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!
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It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.
Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.
"Maybe just get it?"
"Why?"
"So you... can tell them you're busy."
He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.
Patrick.
His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.
Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.
He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.
"He told me to look for you."
"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.
"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.
"We both know I look fine."
It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."
"And we both know you don't want to babysit."
"But I'm a good friend."
"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."
He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.
He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."
"It's a free country."
"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"
"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"
His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,
"Chelsea?"
You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.
"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"
"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.
"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.
"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.
"This is not the same."
Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.
"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."
"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."
You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."
"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.
Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.
Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.
And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.
"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."
Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.
"What? What now, Art?"
"You never gave me your number."
He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.
You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.
And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".
But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...
"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."
It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.
"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"
You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.
Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.
After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.
His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.
Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.
"Art, I need--"
"I know,"
I know,
I know,
I know.
He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.
His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.
The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.
Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.
You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:
"Is it good?"
You don't answer.
"Does it feel good?"
Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.
"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.
You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.
You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.
On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.
And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.
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wonbriiize · 6 months
Note
bestfriend!Anton who puts you on his lap to give you affection, touches your hair, kisses you on the neck...being super clingy and fluffy :(
pairing; anton x reader
genre; fluff, best friends to lovers
note; i thought this was such a cute idea so i wrote something based on it.. hope u like it anon ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
listen to your heart
while working in retail isn’t all that horrible most of the time, you despise it over the holidays. everyone goes crazy as they search for last-minute christmas presents for their loved ones, friends or anyone else.
today was one of those days when everything was so annoying that you really thought about quitting your job right then and there.
luckily, your shift has ended and you are now on your way back home. you seem to be forgetting what a terrible day it has been so far as you imagine yourself curled up in your warm bed while drinking hot choco and watching your comfort movie.
“*y/n*, someone is waiting for you in your room,” your mom says after giving you a big hug when you arrive at home.
you‘re confused as to who it could be, until you recall that your best friend anton texted you saying he‘d drop by later as you were spamming him with messages about that one costumer who was extremely rude to you.
you run up the stairs to your room. you’re not so sure why you’re so eager to see anton, but you can’t help yourself. being with anton after a tiring day makes you feel at ease. he just has that effect on you.
“ohhh, slow down,” anton sits up on your bed. you can tell he made himself feel at home because just a second ago he was laying in your bed as if it was his own. “why are you running? is the rude customer after you?”
since you can’t tell anton that you hurried up to your room because of him, you just throw yourself on your bed. “no, i just really missed my bed. it has been an exhausting day.”
“and here i was hoping that you were running because you couldn’t wait to see me,” anton pouts, leaning back on your bed.
you’re right, you think. but i can’t let you know..
“well, apparently you were missing me because how are you at my house when i’m not even there?”
anton shrugs. “so what if i missed you, is it so wrong to miss your best friend?”
you’re shocked at how casually anton can say things like this. does he truly not realise how much of an impact his words have on you? it irritates you that he's saying these things and acting so dreamy when you're already trying to shake the thought that you like him — much more than you could ever imagine liking someone.
you sigh, laying down on your back. “i just really need to rest.”
“hey, come here,” anton pats next to him. “we can rest together.”
for a second, you’re not sure if you should really go and sit down next to him, because your feelings are all over the place today and you don’t know what could happen, but you push those thoughts aside and just go for it.
“you can lay your head on my lap. i will give you a head massage. i‘m a pro,” anton softly smiles at you.
god, he really isn’t making it easy to not fall in love with him, you sigh. your head is telling you not to do it, but for once in your life, you decide to listen to your heart instead.
you place your head gently on anton‘s lap. you’re afraid you won't be able to resist kissing anton if you open your eyes and see him staring down at you, hence why your eyes are closed.
anton starts massaging your head softly and you’re surprised at how good it actually feels.
“i didn’t expect you to be actually good at this,” you say.
“i told you i‘m a pro,” anton chuckles. hearing him giggle put a smile on your face and usually you would try to hide that, but right now, you’re just letting it happen.
“there it is,” anton whispers softly as he touches your cheek, causing you to open your eyes immediately.
“what?”
“your beautiful smile.”
you start laughing nervously. what’s his deal? why is he being extra sweet today?
“don’t say such things, anton.”
“why not?" his hand returns to your head, but instead of giving it a massage, he plays with your hair, twisting it around with his index finger.
“best friends don’t say that..” what you just said has a sad undertone, but you don’t care. maybe if anton knows that he’s kind of playing with your feelings, he will stop being like that.
anton shakes his head. “no, they don’t.. but here’s the thing, *y/n*..”
the sudden change in the atmosphere makes you nervous so you sit up. still close to anton, but there’s a little distance between the two of you now.
“i‘ve been trying to tell you for the longest time that i don’t want to be just best friends with you,” anton blurts out. “i thought it was obvious that i like you.”
world stop. anton likes me?
“but everytime i try to make a move you put me back in the friendzone, saying things like ‘best friends don’t do that..”
with a sincere expression of sadness that makes your heart hurt, anton glances down at his hands.
“i guess you really don’t like me in that way and i was just stupid to to think that-”
refusing to let anton continue, you take hold of his hand and place it directly over your heart.
“do you feel this?” you whisper.
anton nods unsure.
“my heart beats this fast everytime i‘m with you.”
“is that a good or a bad sign?” anton pulls his hand away and looks questionably at you.
his question makes you laugh. “of course it’s a good sign.. it means that you’re the reason why my heart feels so alive.”
“oh,” anton nods, a little smile forming on his face. “so you do like me.”
now it’s you who’s nodding.
just a while ago you didn’t want anton to know how you really feel about him because you were so afraid that the feeling was one-sided, but now that you know it’s mutual, you’re ready to take the initiative.
you slip closer to anton and sit down on his lap. first he’s surprised at your sudden move, but then you feel his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.
seconds later, your lips meet his. not only was your heart racing faster than before, but because your bodies were so close, you could literally feel anton‘s heart racing as well.
you weren't expecting it, but as anton plastered kisses all over your face and neck, things heated up quickly. you didn't want him to stop, but knowing that your parents could walk into your room at any point made you want to go slowly.
“maybe we should continue this when we are alone, like completely,” you whisper as anton was kissing your neck.
“hmmm,” kiss. “maybe..” kiss. “you‘re..” kiss. “right.”
he stops, looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.
“this big smile looks good on you,” you put your arms around antons neck.
“and you know why i’m smiling like this? it’s because of you,” anton softly whispers before he plants another kiss on your lips.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
Ugh, Whimsical!reader x James (not together yet) where anytime she says something he just has the most lovesick look on his face and Sirius is like “we’ve lost him, boys” but then reader quips back with something about looking at those you’re comfortable and friendly with boosts your seratonin and you’re glad to have James look at you if it makes him happy
Thanks for requesting babe!
James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 932 words
“You seem like you’re feeling better today, Remus,” you say, passing him a cup of tea. You give one to Sirius, too, then James. It’s got a couple of little flowers floating on the top, James notices. Adorable. 
Remus looks a bit caught offguard. “I am, thanks. How’d you know?” 
“Your aura’s looking less gray than usual.” 
Sirius snickers. “Just like you to have a gray aura, Moons. Boring.” 
You settle on the couch beside James, crossing your legs underneath you. “I don’t think Remus is boring,” you say, voice soft and airy as dandelion fluff. “His color often just looks a tad sapped. It’s bluer today.” 
Remus seems to perk up a bit at your appraisal. He does look well, James thinks, but your noticing improves his color even more. Remus doesn’t like being viewed like a helpless, afflicted lamb, and you never have treated him like one, save whatever you put in his tea (it takes a few minutes longer to make than the rest of yours, though James pretends not to notice). 
James watches you watching Remus, and his heart gives a happy little throb. You’re so kind, considerate in ways which you play off as incidental, but he can see the effort you put into taking care of the people in your life. He doesn’t know how you know half the things you do, but you’re always looking out for them. He’ll be waiting for Sirius to come home late at night and you’ll text to ask if everything is okay, or Remus will be having one of his worse days and you’ll show up unannounced with chocolates and juniper bound with twine to “cleanse” their flat, whatever that means. Or when James was sick with the flu a few weeks ago, and Remus and Sirius both swore they hadn’t said a word to you but he’d woken from a nap to find you sitting beside him with soup and a very strong elderberry tea. He’s fairly sure your presence had healed him just as much as the sustenance. You have that effect on him. 
“Do we all have auras?” Sirius asks, and James comes out of his reverie to find his friend watching him with a poorly concealed smirk. He supposes he’s had that look on his face again. Lovestruck.
“Of course.” You give Sirius a funny smile, like this should be obvious. “Everyone has an aura,” you say, “we just can’t all see it all of the time.” 
“What’s yours look like?” James asks. 
Your lips part in surprise as you turn to look at him, your knee bumping his thigh. “I can’t see my own. I’d have to ask someone else.” 
“What about mine?” Sirius asks. 
You turn back to him. James feels the loss. “Right now, it’s mostly orange.” 
“Right now?” 
“Yours shifts a lot. A couple of minutes ago, it was pinker.” You tilt your head, considering. “You’re very sunset-y today, Sirius.” 
Sirius grins, and James knows that whatever his friend may think about auras, he’s going to carry that compliment with him for the rest of the week. “And what about our Jamesie? What’s his aura like?” 
“Oh, James’ almost never changes.” You look over at him with a small smile on your face. Maybe James is flattering himself, but he feels as though there’s a faintly secretive quality to it, like some part of your smile is just for him. “His is always yellow. Though I have been noticing a bit more red than usual lately.” 
James isn’t sure he can speak with your eyes on him like this. You’re so lovely it’s choking him. Thankfully, Remus comes to his aid. 
“Is that a good thing?” he asks. “It shifting, I mean.” 
You don’t turn away from James like he expects you’re going to. You hold his gaze, that smile broadening just slightly. It has all the soft radiance of moonlight. 
“I don’t think so,” you say. “It’s not making him any less himself, it only means that something has changed.” 
“Good god,” Sirius stage-whispers to Remus. “Look at him, we’ve lost him completely. Bet it gets redder every time he looks at her.” 
“It does, a little.” Your eyes flit upwards, presumably to colors which he can’t see but he imagines his face is starting to match. “It might be the serotonin boost. Looking at people you care about will do that.” You set a hand on top of his, thumb stroking over the knuckle of his pinkie finger. James’ mouth is a desert. “I’m happy to have James look at me if it makes him happy.” 
Sirius lets out a short laugh. “I’m sure it does, sweetheart. He’s—” 
Remus must elbow him, because he goes blessedly silent. 
“I’ve been wondering,” Remus says mildly, “do you give us different kinds of tea? They always look different from each other.” 
“Oh, yes.” You finally break your gaze away from James’, but your hand stays atop his. It’s hardly a whisper of a touch, and yet he’s very concerned you’re somehow absorbing every thought and feeling he’s having through some freaky osmosis. It doesn’t seem wholly out of the realm of possibility for you. “I make them with different ingredients for each of you.” 
Sirius quirks an eyebrow. “In that case, can I try a new one next time? This one tastes a bit like dirt.” 
You shrug, nonplussed. “If you like, but it might not do as much for you.” 
“What do you put in them?” Remus asks curiously. 
You take a sip of your own tea. “Just what you need.” 
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b0nten · 6 months
Text
HOW ARE BABIES MADE?
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.
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RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”
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meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”
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SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.
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TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”
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KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.
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if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.
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IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.
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xhoneygirlxx · 10 months
Text
WANTED U
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader
summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?
warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!
*if I miss anything please let me know!
a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3
All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 
That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 
It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 
You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 
Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 
So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 
The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 
As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 
“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 
Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 
Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 
A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 
“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 
“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 
“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 
Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 
“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 
“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 
“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 
“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 
“Promise? What about Jacob?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 
“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 
“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 
“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 
The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 
With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 
Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 
__
The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 
Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 
“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.
“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 
You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 
“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 
“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 
“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 
“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 
With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 
With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 
“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 
Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 
“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 
The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 
It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 
“Fuck it.”
Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 
It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 
“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 
“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 
Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 
Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 
Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 
“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 
“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 
Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 
Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 
“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 
Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 
Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 
When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 
“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 
Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 
“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 
“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 
Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 
“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 
Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 
“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 
Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 
“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 
“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 
Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 
“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 
“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 
“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 
That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 
Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 
“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 
“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 
After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 
“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 
Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 
“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.
With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.
Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.
Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.
"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.
"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.
Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.
You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.
His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.
Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.
"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.
"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.
"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."
"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.
"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.
With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.
The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.
"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.
Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.
Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"
If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.
Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.
"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."
"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.
Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.
"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.
"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.
Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.
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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!
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atticrissfinch · 1 year
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Gimme What I Want: A Fic in Texts
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pairing: joel miller x afab!reader summary: the wrong number that texts you ends up being a man much hotter than you’d ever expect… warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, porn w/o plot i’m sorry but not really, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink and degradation!kink (we love duality), light dom!joel vibes, pet names/degrading terms (darlin’, babygirl, pretty girl, whore, slut, bitch, etc), age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), implied masturbation (m & f), mentions of cream pies, sexting a stranger but it’s ok cause he’s a dilf, really bad innuendos word count: ~2.2k | ao3 a/n: biting the bullet and posting my first fic in literal years because Pedro is just…an inspiration what can I say. So I’m going with something a little lighter (conceptually, not topically…this is just smut lmao). Pls be nice I am c r u s t y with my writing rn ty <3 (gif from ketokitsune on reddit)
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
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[5:32 PM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hey Doug, this is Joel. Tommy gave me your number, he mentioned a build job you might have for us? Happy to chat whenever, just let me know. 
[5:40 PM] You: Good to hear from you Joel. Unfortunately I’ve vowed to never do work with a man whose name starts with the letter “J”. Nothing personal 
[5:46 PM] Joel: Uh…no disrespect intended…but are you jokin?
[5:52 PM] You: ‘Fraid not. J is reserved for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen 
[6:10 PM] Joel: Well…I guess in that case, let me know if you change your mind. God bless, I suppose 
[6:12 PM] You: I’m totally fucking with you, man. You got the wrong number 
[6:12 PM] You: Sorry I couldn’t resist 
[6:15 PM] Joel: Wait, serious? 
[6:16 PM] You: As a heart attack. Sorry about that 
[6:18 PM] Joel: You got me good, I gotta admit. Head is still reeling a little bit LOL
[6:19 PM] You: I get my kicks where I can 
[6:23 PM] Joel: Well sorry to bother you. Thanks for the chuckle 
[6:27 PM] You: So you’re construction or something?
[6:30 PM] Joel: Yup. General contractor at your service
[6:30 PM] You: Your own business?
[6:31 PM] Joel: Is indeed
[6:32 PM] You: Damn, big bossman. Pretty hot
[6:35 PM] Joel: You’re silly. Im just an old man who’s put in too many years of work. Got achy bones
[6:40 PM] You: I know you’re not supposed to ask this on a first date, but how old are you, Joel?
[6:42 PM] Joel: HA! You’re a funny one! LOL
[6:42 PM] Joel: 56 very long years old
[6:45 PM] You: Oh, now, that’s not so old! 
[6:50 PM] Joel: Tell that to my knees. LOL
[7:03 PM] You: You lay a lot of pipe as a contractor, Joel?
[7:06 PM] Joel: Suppose I do. Gotta have plumbing. Why do you ask?
[7:15 PM] You: Actually been looking for someone to come snake my drain
[7:19 PM] Joel: I mean you’re probably lookin for more of a plumber in that case. I got some contacts if you need one
[7:25 PM] You: I prefer someone who knows how to lay pipe to snake my drain 😏
[7:36 PM] Joel: I feel like you may be talkin about somethin different than I am. Less appropriate maybe
[7:37 PM] You: It’s possible
[7:46 PM] Joel: if we’re breaking those rules I suppose I should ask how old YOU are. ‘Fore I say somethin stupid
[7:46 PM] Joel: or illegal
[7:47 PM] You: Well at least you’re careful. I’m 25. Safely out of “jail bait” territory 
[7:48 PM] Joel: Golly. 25. Jesus was I a hellion at 25. Hope you’re better behaved than I was 
[7:50 PM] You: I bet there’s still a little hellion in you 😉 
[7:51 PM] You: I could stand to have a little more hellion in me, if you catch my drift 😉
[7:58 PM] Joel: You’re a bitta trouble ain’t you
[7:59 PM] Joel: What you doing flirtin with a man over twice your age
[7:59 PM] Joel: A STRANGER at that
[8:00 PM] You: Oh I found you on google about an hour ago already. Not so strange anymore. 
[8:00 PM] You: Miller Contracting, right? In Austin? 
[8:02 PM] Joel: I’ll be damned. We got a regular Nancy Drew on our hands. 
[8:03 PM] You: Wasnt terribly difficult 😂 Already had your first name, area code, and occupation. 
[8:03 PM] Joel: Well shit if that ain’t a reminder to be more careful…
[8:05 PM] You: You’re a very handsome man, Joel Miller
[8:07 PM] Joel: Think you’re lookin at Tommy. He’s the face of the operation. I’m just the brains. 
[8:08 PM] You: Oh no, I see Tommy here. But he’s not who I’m looking at. There’s a couple pics of you on google. 
[8:08 PM] You: Salt and pepper hair. Scruffy beard. Nice sturdy build. Little scowl. Sound like you?
[8:09 PM] Joel: Damned if it don’t I guess
[8:09 PM] You: Definite silver fox 
[8:10 PM] Joel: Well I’m blushin over here. Thanks darlin
[8:10 PM] Joel: I’m sure you’re a beautiful young woman
[8:15 PM] You: How about you let me know
[8:15 PM] You: [Image Attached]
[8:15 PM] Joel: SHIT
[8:15 PM] Joel: Darlin you can’t just be sendin stuff like that!
[8:16 PM] You: I’m fully covered! 
[8:16 PM] Joel: Barely! 
[8:17 PM] You: I suppose I should have asked if you’re married
[8:17 PM] Joel: Might’ve been smart. But luckily no. Wouldn’t want to have to explain that shit to no one 
[8:17 PM] Joel: Wrong number suddenly sending me…pics like that
[8:19 PM] Joel: Not that it’s a BAD picture. You certainly are an undeniable beauty 
[8:19 PM] Joel: But you ARE trouble just like I said
[8:20 PM] You: Well then I have to ask. Do you like trouble, Mr Miller? 
[8:21 PM] Joel: Hey now don’t be callin me that…Mr Miller, that was my daddy 
[8:21 PM] You: Is that so
[8:21 PM] You: How would you feel about me calling you my daddy?
[8:22 PM] Joel: Jesus christ darlin…you are a forward little devil aren’t u
[8:22 PM] Joel: A little temptress
[8:22 PM] You: I tend to know what I want.
[8:22 PM] Joel: Seems like it
[8:25 PM] Joel: Ok. I’ll bite. In that pic…that really you? That what you’re wearin right now?
[8:25 PM] You: It is. You like?
[8:26 PM] Joel: Lord strike me down, but I do. You wear it real nice. Skimpy little top. Those wicked little daisy dukes. Like you’re right out of a fuckin dirty magazine 
[8:27 PM] Joel: What would your daddy say if he saw you takin pictures like that and sendin em to strange old men like me?
[8:27 PM] You: I dunno, daddy, what would you say?
[8:27 PM] Joel: Fuck me. You’re a naughty fuckin thing aint you  
[8:28 PM] You: VERY naughty. And I think you like that.
[8:33 PM] Joel: Goddamn it. Alright if you wanna be naughty who am I to stop you, darlin
[8:33 PM] Joel: Show me a little more 
[8:42 PM] Joel: Shit I’m sorry that was too much
[8:43 PM] You: [Image Attached]
[8:43 PM] You: Just wanted to get it right
[8:43 PM] Joel: Christ, you are…..
[8:43 PM] Joel: That is the finest pair of tits I may have ever seen in all my years. All pulled out of that flimsy little shirt. Absolutely perfect
[8:43 PM] You: Thank you, daddy. I’m glad you like them. 
[8:44 PM] Joel: I more than like em. God would I love to…
[8:44 PM] You: Love to what? Tell me, daddy. 
[8:45 PM] Joel: Goddammit somethin about you callin me that darlin
[8:45 PM] Joel: Got me all fucked up in the head
[8:45 PM] Joel: I want them in my hands. In my face. My mouth 
[8:45 PM] Joel: Bet they look fuckin exquisite bouncin up and down on…
[8:46 PM] You: On what, daddy? 
[8:47 PM] Joel: You got my filter all turned off babygirl. Thinkin some things that’ll send me straight to hell. Specially with a young thing like you 
[8:48 PM] You: Let me be real clear then. I like older men, Joel. Like how much they KNOW. All that experience. All that practice. 56 years, I know you know how to talk to a woman. So talk. 
[8:49 PM] Joel: Shit
[8:49 PM] Joel: Fuck it then. I certainly don’t aim to disappoint
[8:49 PM] Joel: Those gorgeous tits would look downright sinful if you were bouncin on my cock
[8:50 PM] You: Fuck yes daddy
[8:50 PM] Joel: You touchin yourself babygirl?
[8:51 PM] You: Just my tits right now. Imagining those big, rough hands of yours all over them. 
[8:51 PM] Joel: That’s good, babygirl. Squeeze those tits for me. 
[8:51 PM] Joel: Fuck. Sendin me dirty pics. Callin me your daddy. You’ve got this dick nice and hard. Might pull it out in a second
[8:51 PM] Joel: Would you like to see it?
[8:52 PM] You: Yes please daddy
[8:52 PM] Joel: Good girl
[8:54 PM] Joel: [Image Attached]
[8:54 PM] Joel: All for you babygirl
[8:55 PM] You: Holy fuck
[8:55 PM] You: I know every girl says this but I mean it, you are so fucking BIG
[8:55 PM] Joel: Haha believe me I know darlin
[8:55 PM] Joel: Had a lotta girls over the years have to take me real slow at first
[8:55 PM] Joel: But they all end up screamin my name just the same
[8:56 PM] You: Fuck I want it. Make me one of those girls. But don’t go slow. 
[8:57 PM] Joel: Yeah? You want it rough pretty girl? Want to be split open on this cock? want me to make you take it like the filthy fucking whore you are?
[8:57 PM] You: FUCK. Yesyesyes please keep talking to me like that i’m touching myself daddy
[8:58 PM] Joel: I know you are baby. Can’t fucking help yourself. Begging and drooling over this cock since you started talkin to me. Slutty little girl wants to get fucked and degraded by an old man 
[8:58 PM] You: Yes daddy I do I need your fucking huge cock in me PLEASE
[8:59 PM] Joel: Surprised a whore like you knows her manners so good, sayin please all pretty and nice
[8:59 PM] Joel: Matter fact when I put this cock in you, I better fuckin hear a thank you as well
[8:59 PM] You: THANK YOU DADDY
[9:00 PM] Joel: That’s right babygirl take that fucking cock and touch that pretty clit
[9:01 PM] You: Im already close daddy please please
[9:01 PM] Joel: Fuckin right you are. greedy little whore throbbin for this big cock. cum all over those soakin wet fingers thinkin bout me. god such a slutty little bitch aren’t you
[9:01 PM] You: Yessssss daddy im a slutty little bitch youre gonna make me cum
[9:02 PM] Joel: Stop textin and take a video of that dripping cunt comin for me. That fuckin orgasm belongs to me doesn’t it babygirl. Im givin it to you so I deserve to see it
[9:03 PM] Joel: So fuckin pretty babygirl got my cock so fuckin hard let me see that fucked pussy
[9:05 PM] You: [Video Attached]
[9:05 PM] Joel: Shit baby you are the filthiest thing I ever seen. Sound so sexy those little whimpers when u came fuck
[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna make me cum all over my fist baby
[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna pump this pussy full of my cum take this cock and this huge fuckin load up your cunt babygirl
[9:08 PM] Joel: [Video Attached]
[9:13 PM] You: Shit. That was. Fuck. 
[9:14 PM] Joel: Not so quick-witted when you’re fucked stupid are you LOL
[9:14 PM] You: Shut up…
[9:15 PM] You: Goddamn you sure know how to sext I’ll tell you that
[9:16 PM] Joel: As you said. Had some practice over the years. Wink. 
[9:16 PM] You: Oh god, do you not know how to use emojis to wink? 😂 
[9:16 PM] You: Dinosaur 😝 🦕🦖
[9:17 PM] Joel: Yeah, well, if this “dinosaur” ever gets ahold a you, you’re gonna be real sorry for pokin fun at him, little girl
[9:20 PM] You: Well since you mention it…
[9:20 PM] You: It’s possible I might be in Austin too 
[9:21 PM] Joel: I may have suspected. The area code n all 
[9:22 PM] You: Wouldn’t it be REAL embarrassing if I did end up actually being that guy you were looking for? 😝
[9:24 PM] Joel: Shit, if Doug looks as fine as you I wouldn’t give a good goddamn LOL 
[9:25 PM] Joel: I ain’t givin out any dick discounts though 😉
[9:25 PM] You: *gasp* you do know how to use emojis!
[9:26 PM] Joel: Quick learner 😉 Gotta be if I’m gonna be your daddy after all 😏
[9:30 PM] Joel: Well I’m mighty glad I texted the wrong number darlin 
[9:31 PM] You: Me too 😊 Maybe someday we can try this in person…
[9:34 PM] Joel: I’ll bring the snake
[9:35 PM] You: 😂😂😂
____
Part 2
Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow@atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!
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cy-cyborg · 3 months
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How your disabled character's allies react to their disability can make or break the representation in your story: Writing Disability Quick Tips
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[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: How your character's allies react to their disability matters” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text are 2 poorly drawn people icons in green, one is standing with their hand up to the face of the other, who is in a wheelchair. /End ID]
Something I brought up in my big post about Toph Beifong was how the other characters reacted to Toph pointing out that things were not accessible to her and setting boundaries regarding her disability, which were ignored. I had more to say about it than I thought I did, as it turns out (when isn't that the case lol) but I feel like this is an important aspect of disability representation that is all too often over looked.
You can write the best, most accurate portrayal of a specific disability ever put to screen or page, but it won't mean much if all the other characters, specifically those we're supposed to like and empathise with, treat your character terribly for being disabled and having needs relating to said disability, especially if the story justifies their behaviour.
You see this most often with autistic characters and especially autistic-coded characters. The character in question will be given a bunch of autistic traits, most often traits relating to not understanding certain social dynamics or sarcasm, and when they get it wrong, the other characters we are supposed to like jump down their throat, tease them or outright abandon them. Autism isn't the only disability that gets treated this way, but it is one of the more common ones that get this treatment. It doesn't matter if you do everything else right when creating an autistic character if the other "good guys" constantly call them annoying, get angry at them or laugh at them for the very traits that make them autistic, or for advocating for their needs.
Likewise, if you have a leg amputee character who is otherwise done well, but is constantly being criticised by their allies for needing to rest their legs or taking too long to get their prosthetics on, it undermines a lot of the other work you've done. Same goes for having a wheelchair user who is accused of being a bore or a stick in the mud because they point out the places their friends want to go to on a group holiday have no wheelchair access, or a deaf character who is accused of being entitled for wanting their family to learn to sign, or anything else.
This isn't to say you can never have moments like these in your stories, but its important to remember that a) people with the same disability as your character will be in your audience. If you spend a whole season of your TV show shaming your autistic character for real traits that real autistic people have, they're not exactly going to feel welcome and may not want to hang around. b) it's going to very, very heavily impact people's perceptions of your "heros" who do this, especially in they eyes of your audience members who share the character's disability or who have had similar experiences. This isn't like calling someone a mean name or being a bit of a dick when you're sleepy, it's going to take a lot to regain audience appeal for the offending character, and depending on exactly what they do and how frequently they do it, they may not even be able to come back from it at all. And finally, c) there should be a point to it outside of just shaming this character and saying the other guy is an asshole. Like I said before, you're character is criticising real people's real disabilities and the traits or problems that come with them, things that they often have no control over, it shouldn't be used as a cheap, quick way to establish a quirky enemies to lovers dynamic or show that one guy is kind of an ass before his redemption arc. If you really must have your characters do this, be mindful of when and how you use it.
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sinofwriting · 2 months
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Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader
Words: 4,549 Summary: Charles and Max are together and she needs to move on, get over them before her feelings get any bigger and harder to handle.
Note(s): Partial SMAU. No part two will be written
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Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration
This was far more difficult than it should be, she couldn’t help but think.
When Max and Charles had told her that they were together, she knew that the days of being a trio were over. She had made her peace with it as soon as the next day had rolled around and she had let herself cry, because it hurt more than she expected seeing the two people she liked so much being in love with each other. She knew that they’d want time alone, time to go out on dates, to just spend time with each other, without other people, without her.
So, she retreated. Started texting to ask if she could come over to Max’s or Charles’, double checking that they still wanted her to come over when they asked, knocking on front doors instead of just letting herself in like before. She nearly gave back her keys to both their places, but kept them. They’d give them to her in case of emergencies, it just so happened that they then urged her to use them to just let herself in at any time. She did however take back her own spare keys, slipping it off of their key rings when they were distracted. The one going back in her safe in her bedroom, the other going to Arthur, who thankfully hadn’t asked questions just kissed her on the forehead with a murmured breath of idiots before threading their arms together and making her walk with him around Maranello.
She had figured it would be easy to fall away from them, that they’d like the time to be together just them. But she’s still getting invited to come over for random lunches and dinners. For movie night whether it’s over discord when she hasn’t joined them at a race or in Max’s living room or Charles hotel room.
It hurts to say no to those offerings, to not say yes every time they offer, but it also hurts to see them together and she can’t be around them as often as she used to with her feelings so large for them and hopefully not apparent.
So, she asks for Arthur’s help. She loves them, yes, but she isn’t in love with them. And that means the world of difference, because she can get over them, will get over them.
Her feet are in his lap as they scroll through her tiktok that’s displayed on her TV. It makes her miss the F2 weekends, the races she always attends, just to tag along with Arthur. To support him, and how always the night before the feature race no matter how much Max or Charles will plead, she’ll go to his hotel room and they’d do the same thing. Scrolling through her tiktok, either laughing or scoffing at what’s shown.
She curls her toes gently into his thigh, laughing at the slight hiss he gives. “How are your toes so cold?” She shrugs, wiggling them a bit before he puts a blanket over them, setting his hand on top of the blanket where her toes are underneath. “Why is your hand so warm?” “Do you really want to know?” She makes a face at him and he does the same back and they both break into giggles.
“I was wondering,” “Oh?” He looks away from the TV, eyes focusing on her. “If the offer to set me up with someone was still on the table.” His eyebrows are raised. “But what about,” “They are together, happy and in love. I’m happy with being their friend, but to be a better friend I need to get over my feelings before it hurts them or their relationship and that is the last thing I want.”
She means it as well. She is happy for Charles and Max even if she hadn’t thought that they'd get over themselves and admit that they felt something for each other. It also helps that the distance has helped with the hurt she feels seeing them. It’s more bittersweet than anything to see them so happy together.
He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Of course. Paul is interested.” Her eyes go wide. “Paul is a child!” “He’s nineteen, that’s not a child.” Arthur denies. “And I’m twenty-three, same as you. I don't want to rob the cradle so to speak.” “Okay, no one that young.”
She watches as he thinks about it before smirking at her. “Ya know, Pierre and Kika have talked of having a third.” She scowls at him. “Maybe someone single and who isn’t best friends with Max or Charles.” “Fine.” he chuckles. “You know I only know people in motorsports, though. They will know them.” “I’m aware, Thur.” She gently prods his thigh. “Now, give me a name or two.” “Logan.” She feels blood rush to her face and looks away from her best friend at the sound of his name and Arthur’s eyes narrow.
“What is that about?” He reaches forward to poke at her temple that’s now facing him. “I may have slept with him.” “No.” He’s shaking his head when she looks at him again. “When?” “Last year at Abu Dhabi before his Williams testing.” She tells him, laughing when he gently hits her calves. “And you never told me?” “It happened one time!” She defends herself. “And we both agreed not to really talk about it.” He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. Do you want me to set you up? Give you his number?” Her eyebrows raise at Arthur having his number as she thinks about it.
She liked Logan, maybe not entirely like that, but she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. He was sweet, funny and earnest. She could see herself having a good time with Logan even if it didn’t end up being a relationship that lasted forever or went too serious. Afterall she had a good time with him the last time they saw each other.
“Yeah, I’d like his number.”
Arthur didn’t know how he had ended up in the house of the enemy (it was said enemy offering him to use his sim) but he was already regretting that he came over, especially with his brother being over as well and the fact that the enemy, or now two enemies wouldn’t let him use the sim.
“What is wrong with her?” “Nothing is wrong.” He repeats, feeling bored of their worries about Y/N. It was stupid that they thought he’d be this relaxed if something was wrong with her, she was his best friend after all, despite what Max and Charles liked to think. “Really? Because we haven’t seen her in a week, a week Arthur! We have been home.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her just today.” “So, she’s at home.” “No.” Arthur looks around the living space of Max’s place, eyebrows raising at the grand piano that now resides by some of his trophies. “I drove her to Nice, this morning.” “Nice?” Max eyebrows are furrowed. “She never goes to Nice.” Arthur shrugs, leaning back in his seat and taking out of his phone, swiping through his messages. “She has a date.” “She has a what!?” Arthur has to hide his smirk as the two Formula 1 drivers yell. “I’ve been trying to set her up with someone for awhile now. She finally said yes.” “With who?”
“This was really nice.” She smiles up at Logan, liking how she has to tilt her head up a bit to look at him with how they’re standing. “I had a really good time.” There’s a hand now resting on her waist and she shudders at the touch, at how Logan is looking at her, at how this whole day had gone. It had been so long since she went on a date, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
“Maybe next time we could do this in London?” He grins at her, “Really?” “It wouldn’t be fair if only you were flying.” She pauses, “I need a bit of notice, but I could also do Florida.” His smile and eyes soften. “I’d like that. I’m going back for Christmas until the fourth of January. But maybe if our next date,” Her smile widens at the words next date, the quiet but sure confidence in them. “Goes well, you could fly down on the third and we do a little road trip, explore some of America.” “I’ve never been before.” “I mean, I’ve only really been to places for racing other than Florida.” “So, you’ve only been to Florida.” He laughs but nods, “yeah, only to Florida.” “I’d like that. Just tell me how much time you want to spend there and I’ll use my vacation days up.” “You don’t want to wait until our next date?” “I don’t think I do. Do you?” She asks, stepping closer. “No.” He murmurs and then he’s bending, their lips just separated. “I don’t think you do.”
She’s brimming with excitement when she gets to Arthur’s place. Her fingers keep brushing over her lips and cheeks where Logan had kissed her. Her mind keeps replaying his words, his laugh, the little sigh he gave when she kissed him again before they parted ways.
She doesn’t bother knocking on Arthur’s door, he had told her that if she wasn’t going to let him pick her back up that’d he keep the door unlocked for her so she could come straight to him after her date.
“Thur.” She calls, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I’m back, all safe and sound.” She rounds the kitchen counter, opening his fridge and stealing a beer before making her way to the living room and plopping down on his couch. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she can’t help but remember how excited Logan had gotten when he realized that her dress had pockets. The fresh memory, barely seven hours old, has her grinning again.
“So, it went well?” She looks up and sees Arthur standing in the entry of the living room, a beer in one hand while his other is taking a towel to his hair, explaining his silence. “It did. In a few days, I’m gonna fly to London, spend the day with him.” “It went really well.” He sits beside her, eyeing her. “You seem excited.” “I am.” She laughs. “It was just, it was so nice, Thur. And at first I thought maybe it was just going on a date, but on the way here, I think it was not only that but it was him.” He looks at her and wonders why he ever thought there was a possibility of her being in love with Max and Charles, not just liking them as she claimed, when after one date with Logan she looked like this.
“We’ve missed you.” Charles murmurs, holding her tight to him, Max has his arms around the both of them. “Where have you been?” He asks, pulling away to gently touch her face, to run his thumb under the dark circles that aren’t as prominent as they usually are. “I’ve been busy.” She tells him, squeezing Max’s arm that’s still wrapped around her before stepping away from the both of them. “Work always gets weird in December.” Max frowns, “Just work?” Her eyebrows furrow, “Not just work. But mainly.” “We’ve been home for over a week and this the first time we’ve seen you is all.” Charles smooths out the slight tension. “Usually we see you on our first day back and when we swung by your place you were never home, never made plans to see us, never just dropped in.” She smiles at Charles and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Max’s smile did the same thing to his heart as well.
“How has being home been? How are my loves?” She asks and then there’s two cats winding around her ankles and she’s bending to pet and coo at them. “Hello my loves! Look at you both, so pretty and handsome.” Max huffs out a laugh. “I swear you love them more than us.” “Oh absolutely.” She laughs. “Jimmy and Sassy are far better than you two. Huh babies?” She directs the last part to the cats who let her give them one more pet before darting away.
“How have you two been?” She asks when they all sit down in the living room, the three of them all on the large couch that Max’s living room holds. “We’ve been good.” Charles smiles, eyes lighting as he thinks of the past week that had been pretty much just him and Max. It had nearly been perfect, so close. Max nods. “I’m very happy Brad isn’t my trainer anymore, he’d have a heart attack if he saw what was in the fridge.” She laughs, whole face brightening. “You always do this in December though and it’s not as if you stop your training. It will be weird not seeing Brad.” “Rupert will be an adjustment.” The Dutchman sends Charles a look. “He won’t ever be in Monaco other than the GP. Not when Andrea is willing to work with me as well. We both know that Rupert is just to save face mostly.” “And to have a trainer with you in Red Bull.” Charles pouts at the two of them. “I don’t like this.” Max and her both share a look before laughing and she wraps an arm around Charles, giving him a side hug. “The poor baby.” She coos. He flushes at the word baby, nearly shuddering at the idea, the sound of both Max and her calling him baby at the same time.
“What have you been up to?” Max redirects, easily taking the focus off of Charles as his poor boyfriend takes a moment to compose himself. “Work mostly.” She gives a tired sigh. “Thankfully though I’ve only got another week and then I’m off until January twentieth.” Both of their eyebrows raise. “The twentieth? But you usually go back on the second or fifth.” “I have a bunch of vacation saved up. I want to use some of it to bring in the new year, start it off stress free, or as stress free as I can get.” “They still won’t let you go fully remote?” Max asks, frowning. She shakes her head. “No. Which is ridiculous considering that I’m allowed to go with you guys for race weekends and such as long as I do my work remotely. I mean, I’m already doing so much of it at home.” She shakes her head again and the smile that had been on her face is gone, whole face covered in stress. “Have you given any thought to leaving?” Charles is careful as he broaches the topic. He knows how much she loves the company she works for, despite them not allowing her to go fully remote. “A little.” Max rests his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze seeing her sad smile.
Charles, seeing the smile and the touch on the knee from Max, nudges her lightly. “We should go somewhere, the three of us. Right after the new year. Go to Bali, Malta, or Greece again.”
Greece had been amazing when they went, just before Max and him had kissed for the first time. Getting to see both of them enjoying the water and sun, skin all on display as she chased them around with sunscreen. The tipsy nights in the living room of where they were staying, furniture pushed back as they danced around, pressed all up against each other.
“Right after the new year?” Charles nods and Max joins him, also remembering Greece. “It would be fun. Another trip just the three of us.” “I have plans right after the new year.” Both of their eyebrows furrow. “Plans?” Charles asks. Her eyes drift to her lap for a second. “Yeah. I started seeing someone and we agreed to do a roadtrip. I’m gonna fly out on the third to meet him.” “Oh.” “Is it serious? Between you two?” She smiles at Max, “I don’t know yet. It’s still early.”
“I’m not telling you. It is none of your business.” Arthur tells Charles, a frown on his face. “Arthur,” “No.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice like Charles has, obviously not wanting Lorenzo or Maman to hear him. “C’mon Arthur. What if he doesn’t treat her right? Hurts her?” His jaw twitches, lips thinning. “You really think that? That I’d set her up with someone that might hurt her? She’s my best friend, Charles. I wouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” Lorenzo asks, as he and Maman join them at the table again, Charles’ face having softened, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Y/N started seeing someone. I set her up. Charles wants to know who.” “Charles.” Maman scolds and he ducks his head. “I just,” he stops, struggling. “Max and I didn't think that she’d start seeing someone. We thought we’d have time.” Lorenzo's face looks a lot like Arthur thinks his face looks like. “You have to be joking.” “What?” “Charles, you and Max are lovely together. We are happy for you. But you got together knowing that you also wanted her in the relationship as well, but you never did anything about it. It’s been six months and you still haven’t done anything. You can’t begrudge her for finding some happiness.” “No.” Charles shakes his head. “Never.” He glances at the faces of his family. “We know that we may be too late. We just want to make sure she is treated well, right. Is taken care of and is happy. Max and I love her, we want the best for her.” “Arthur wouldn’t set her up with someone he thought would make her unhappy.” “I know.”
“Logan!” She squeals as he picks her up, his chest dripping with water pressed against her back. “Put me down!” She laughs. He laughs as well and does put her down, but quickly spins her around, the two now chest to chest. “That better?” She loops her arms around his neck, nodding. ”Much better.” Tilting her head she presses their lips together, humming when he presses her somehow even closer.
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Liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2778 others yourusername: Florida, you have treated me so well and I couldn’t think of a better place to start the roadtrip off, though it does pain me to leave. First stop is New Orleans! (and until next time Miami, I miss you already)
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charlesleclerc: Looks beautiful user1: You look so pretty!!! And that water! arthurleclerc: Did he not tell you about other things in Florida? ⤷ yourusername: but the beach Thur, the beach! user2: Ooh a boy user3: Charles commented!!!
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Liked by paularon, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 1521 others yourusername: New Orleans! Beignets are a must now and I will be attempting to learn to make them as soon as I’m back home (along with gumbo, oh my god). Thank you for buying me about a hundred beignets in two days and coffee!
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maxverstappen1: Will you share? ⤷yourusername: of course, Max! user4: Love that bar! user5: Where’s your next stop? ⤷yourusername: our next stop is Dallas/Fort Worth! user6: Beignets are so good, I don’t blame you for eating nearly a 100
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Liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 3028 others yourusername: When in Texas, cowboys hats are a must! (though they make kissing a bit difficult) We both had only been to the Austin area, so getting to see a bit of Dallas and Fort Worth was lovely (not pictured me crying from happiness as I pet a horse and my boyfriend laughing at me) Next stop is Phoenix, Arizona
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arthurleclerc: I’m going to need that picture ⤷yourusername: Not happening user7: I know we talk about the girlfriend effect, but can we talk about the boyf effect??? My girl seems to be glowing ⤷user8: for real! Whoever he is, he is treating her good charlesleclerc: I am familiar with that part of Texas ⤷yourusername: Definitely user9: Every post makes my dreams of the lestappeny/n throuple die ⤷user10: THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! ⤷user9: girl, tell that to Max and Charles
“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrows furrow at the weird tone in Charles’ voice. “What?” “Your instagram post. You call him your boyfriend.” It’s weird for Max to be the one clarifying. It’s always Charles between the two to do it. “Yeah. I mean that happened in Florida. Right after I got off the plane he asked me.” She smiles at the memory of the candy in his hands, the little anklet with the letter L on it that he gave her in the car. “And he is good to you?” “Yes. He’s the best, Cha.” “Maybe we can meet him when you get back? Before the season starts.” She glances at Logan, who is talking on the phone, his free hand gesturing. “Do you want me to invite Arthur as well?” “No.” Charles’ answer is swift as is Max’s. “If you trust him, we can trust him.” She smiles, eyes crinkling when Logan winks at her. “Of course. We’ll be in Monaco in a week and half for a few days before he goes back to London. Let me know when you're free, yes?” “We will look. Be safe.” “Wear lots of sunscreen!” “I will!”
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Liked by jensonbutton, maxverstappen1, joristrouche and 1023 others yourusername: Thank you to the random person for taking our photo and I promise we didn’t just look at cacti while in Arizona. Time for our next and last stop California!
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user11: Your welcome! You and your bf were real sweet! ⤷yourusername: Too kind! jensonbutton: You two up for some babysitting? ⤷yourusername: Jenson… you better not be joking about getting to watch the baby buttons ⤷jensonbutton: I would never arthurleclerc: I just know he touched a cactus user12: Every day we get closer to finding out who she’s soft launching
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Liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, logansargeant and 2,064 others yourusername: California! The last state on this trip! It’s been fun and hopefully next year we can do another road trip and explore some other states (perhaps in a few years have all 50 checked off).
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user13: I didn’t realize that they had been together for so long user14: Is that Laguna Seca? ⤷yourusername: It is! user15: Race track!!! arthurleclerc: Can’t believe he got you to go karting user16: The club vibes in the last photo
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Liked by yourusername, jensonbutton, jamesharveyblair and 3,218 others brittnybutton: Thank you yourusername and boyfriend for watching the kiddos! Loved having you stay with us for the two days.
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yourusername: Thank you for letting us! jensonbutton: Well behaved bunch they were user17: Brittny is helping her soft launch… I can’t user18: yourusername would be such a good mom user19: parents
“Max! Charles!” Her voice is bright, smile wide and Max swallows thickly, wrapping his arms around her. “You look good.” He tells her, pressing his lips to the top of her head before letting her go, Charles eagerly swooping in to hug her.
She’s glowing, Max thinks as he watches Charles and her hug. His boyfriend murmuring some compliment or complaint in her ear as he gently sways her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this happy before. It hurts but is also relieving to see.
“Where is your boyfriend?” Max asks when Charles finally lets her go. She smiles at Max as they all sit down at the table, a spread of food and drinks already laid out, plates and silverware in front of them. “He’s changing.” “Do we get to know his name? Or will we,” Charles starts to ask but his voice dies in his throat making Max look at him in concern before following his gaze and understanding fills him. “Logan, hi.” The Williams driver smiles at them, sitting in the empty chair next to Y/N. “Hey guys.” Max watches as she beams at Logan, her whole face just brightening before she looks at them, a sorry smile on her face. “I should’ve told you both sooner, who it was, but I didn’t know how.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We are just shocked is all.” “Very.” Charles agrees. “Arthur set you two up?” Max squeezes Charles’ hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I was a little shocked getting the message from him, didn’t even know he still had my number.” Logan laughs. “But he asked if I was interested, I was, so two days later I flew to France for our first day.”
“You two look happy.” She smiles at Charles before looking at Logan. “We are.” “And Jenson knew about it?” Max asks, remembering Jenson’s comments about babysitting and then his wife’s post. Logan blushes and she laughs. “Yeah, Jenson’s really been helping me out since July and I told him after she booked her tickets to Florida.” “That’s good. It’s always nice to have a grid dad, no?” Logan flushes even more as Max laughs. “Just because Seb treated you like a child does not mean we all need to have a grid dad.” “But, Lance had Checo, Oscar has Mark, you had Fernando.” “I didn’t have Fernando.” “You had Fernando.” She agrees with Charles. “He was the only driver not talking shit about you, Fernando was all about your chaos. He’s your grid dad.” Max pouts but it’s quickly chased away by a kiss to the cheek from Charles that makes him grin.
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Liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and arthurleclerc and 4274 others Tagged: logansargeant yourusername: Who knew a date in Nice would turn into this? Hoping for many more months (and years) with you.
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logansargeant: Happy 3 months baby! user20: 3 months??? user21: wdym they’ve only been together 3 months user22: She’s dating Logan? Crying user23: omg mom gave us a dad and it’s america man
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@teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @namgification @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @fanboyluvr @darleneslane @ironspdy @eutrizbea @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @hiireadstuff @tallrock35 @casperlikej
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spamgyu · 3 months
Text
Biggest Regret // Mingyu Oneshot
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DESCRIPTION: Mingyu had many regrets in life, he had made many mistakes... ruining the best thing to happen to him, since joining Seventeen, was his biggest one. PARING: Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst WARNING: Cheating
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You knew there was someone else.
You could feel it.
He had pulled away – no longer swooping down to capture your lips in the middle of a sentence, he no longer texted you sweet words through out the day while he was overseas, his free time was no longer spent with you.
You could see it.
You watched as the eyes that once held the stars grow dim; he looked at you as if you were nothing but a stranger. He no longer looked at you with those soft eyes as you pretended to not feel his gaze; hell, he rarely looked over at you.
He was always far too preoccupied with his phone. Preoccupied with her.
You could smell it.
Her lingering scent of sweet vanilla hanging on to his clothes as he strolled into your apartment – it had completely masked your once favorite cologne of his. There hadn't been a day in the past four months that she didn't linger, and he didn't even bother hiding it.
As if you were too stupid to notice.
More importantly, you heard it.
The soft hum of his voice had gone; speaking to you as if you weren't the girl he had promised forever with. He no longer told you he loved you throughout the day unless you were the first one to utter those three words – and even then, he never did say all three of the words.
"You too."
He was stupid to think you didn't know but you were even stupider for sticking around this long.
You thought it was just a minor bump in the road, being blinded by the love you have for him. You chose to turn an eye on the infidelity you had caught on to immediately; wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.
But as one month turned into four, your lack of reaction had given your boyfriend the confidence to keep the deceitful act going – almost as if he wanted to get caught.
Her presence was once something you only knew through his actions, but she had become quite bold just as him.
It was one of the quite rare occasions where he decided to spend his days off with you, inviting you over to his shared living space for dinner and a movie. You didn't know what it was, maybe it was the universe or your gut feeling, but something told you to go into his room while he was busy in the kitchen – using an excuse of wanting to borrow one of his hoodies.
That feeling was right.
You didn't need to go digging for any clues, it was right there in plain sight.
Sitting atop his desk was a stack of dainty gold bracelets.
You wore silver jewelry and haven't been at his place in nearly a month.
All sorts of scenarios played in your head as to how this had come to be, but one specific one fought its way to the top – the one where it required her to not only shed the jewelry she wore for the day, but her clothes as well.
You felt sick to your stomach at the thought of her taking space on the side of your bed; marking her territory.
You knew he was being unfaithful to you, but seeing the evidence of it was different – bringing a new sense of pain. This one was crippling, feeling your knees wanting to give out from under you as you tried to process the grief that you had been trying your best to push back over the past few months.
You had always told yourself that the second you physically saw evidence of her, you would walk away – the time had finally come. She had set up camp in the heart that you once resided in and by the looks of it, she wasn't planning on leaving.
Taking your bottom lip in-between your teeth to stop it from quivering, you reached for the clasp of the beaded Tiffany bracelet around your wrist – the one he had purchased for you when he had asked you to be officially his.
"The day these beads fall off, is the day I stop loving you." Mingyu laughed softly as he helped you put the silver jewelry on.
Both the beads and double linked chain it had been threaded through were sterling silver, there was no way they were coming off.
There hadn't been a day since receiving it that you did not wear it, and it still stayed intact; a stark contrast to the love he said he would have for you.
You walked over to the desk and placed the item he had used to profess his loyalty to you right next to hers; taking in a deep breathe to regain your composure before walking right back out to finally meet your inevitable fate.
You watched him silently one last time, taking in how beautifully he had grown in the four years you two had been together – right before you pulled the plug he had been too much of a coward to do himself.
"I'm tired." Your cold voice took not only him by surprise, but you as well.
Maybe you were an even better actor than you thought yourself to be.
Looking up from the meal he had just finished plating, Mingyu sent over a pout. "Dinner is ready, though."
You shook your head.
He thought you meant physically.
"No, Mingyu– I'm tired." You repeated. "I– let's end this. I thought I can handle dating you but– I can't take the busy schedule anymore. I need someone who I can see more than once every two weeks."
It was a shitty excuse, you both knew you could handle it perfectly well – you two have been separated for far longer when he would do his overseas tour.
But you couldn't bring yourself to confront him of the sin he had committed; not when you can't even bring yourself to accept it in the first place.
"He- hey." He rushed over to you, brows furrowed in confusion. "What– where is this coming from?"
In his defense, this did seem as if it was being sprung out of nowhere – there had been no signs of your uncertainty.
Not a single one.
Just before you had walked into his room, you two had been discussing the upcoming weekend trip you would be joining with his family. Going as far as discussing the plans you had made with his sister and mother while he and his father were golfing.
"I was going to do it after the trip." Another lie. "But– I can't do that to your family."
"Y/n." He scanned your face, trying to show any hints of a possible prank. "Come on."
But your eyes remained staring off behind him; focusing on the silver knob of the white cabinets. You couldn't look him in the eye as you began to tear down the only world you have known in the past four years.
Not when he should have been the one to end it months ago.
"I loved you." You continued.
"Loved?"
"Thank you for everything, Mingyu– I really did cherish my time with you."
"Baby," He tried to reach for your wrist but something else had caught his eye – or at least, the lack of it. "Where's–"
Bringing your arm back, behind yourself, you took a step back from him. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
"How can I when– when I don't even know where this is coming from?" Mingyu exasperated, hesitantly taking a step towards you.
"Goodbye, Mingyu."
"Stop calling me that!" He cried, closing his eyes – as if things would be any better if he did.
Swallowing the pain that had grown to the size of a golfball in your throat, you turned your back from him – heading to the couch where you had placed your purse.
"So that's just it?" He called out as you continued to prepare yourself from walking out of the love you could have sworn that would have lasted forever.
You remained silent until you reached the front door; ignoring his eyes that were practically burning a hole into your skin.
"Don't do this." You could hear the tears in his voice as you twisted the handle.
"I'm sorry." You whispered before quickly exiting the apartment – the tears you had done so well keeping in had now came rushing down.
By the time you had stepped foot in the elevator, your knees had giving out on you – using the railing to stop you from collapsing on to the floor as the sobs echoed throughout the walls of the confined space.
The end had come and it was far more painful than you had thought it would be.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
When you had walked out on him that spring night a year and a half ago, Mingyu felt nothing but lost – unable to fully comprehend as to why the relationship he had been in for the past four years had suddenly come to an end.
You had not once complained about his schedule since being together, it didn't make sense as to why it had been the reason you had used to walk away from him.
It wasn't until he had walked into his bedroom when it clicked – the silver bracelet he had asked about sitting right next to the the evidence of his crimes.
The crimes he had finally put an end to after being caught by his best friend just days ago – talking, yelling, some senses into him.
But it was far too late, and he knew what he had done was unforgivable; there was no use in running after you. Not when you knew about all that he had done.
He knew there were no words, no actions, no grand gesture he would have done that could win you back. And you deserved to walk away from the pain he had brought you, you deserved better.
You deserved someone who respected you.
There wasn't a single day he didn't beat himself up for what he had done to you, allowing for the constant nightmare to haunt his every actions.
Mingyu didn't care how much he was breaking as each day passed, he knew he deserved it – long as he knew you were okay. You deserved the happiness you were experiencing now; at least, the happiness he had seen through your social media posts.
He didn't dare to move on from you, subjecting himself to the sentencing that could have been avoided if he hadn't given in to his selfish needs. It was all his fault and he had no issues owning up to it; his contributions to all their new songs seemingly relating back to you.
His words that were once empty, relating to not a single pain his friend's experience, now carried the weight of his past. Mingyu didn't try to hide it either, being quite vocal of, his mistakes when asked about their songs – which he seemed to have been credited quite often than before.
Fiddling with the silver beads around his wrist as he focused on the journalist in front of him. Mingyu tried his best to gather the words in his head to answer the question asked.
"What's your biggest regret?"
Unlike other magazine spreads he had been featured in before, this one didn't purely focus on looks or a brand deal – no, this was was feature was in the intention of stripping away mask artists put on. It was the magazine's way of showing the people idolized by the public were human as well.
"We can skip the question." The young man chuckled nervously.
"No- no it's okay." Mingyu shook his head, shaking away the image of you in his head. "I– Hm... I think I've been in the industry long enough to talk about relationships, right? I– I was with this person for some quite some time, and I– I let my weaknesses get to me. I let it ruin the one thing, no– I let it ruin the person that loved me like I was their whole world. I took their trust and their love for me for granted. I think–"
He let out a pitiful laugh as he felt the tears well up – he shouldn't be the one crying. Not when he was the one that put himself in the situation he was in.
"I think," Mingyu's fingers reaching for the jewelry he had not taken off since that night he had discovered it sitting on his wooden desk – a habit he seemed to have developed when he felt that he needed to ground himself back on to earth. "I think I will forever have my regrets about this one mistake."
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