#i would put this in my wip tag but i don’t have one
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Winter's King 14
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Another work week :(
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Not long after the king’s departure, Lord Jaskier excuses himself to see to his horse. Queen Jazlene sends him off with a similar quip about serious matters. You don’t quite understand her. She should be concerned with the weeks of travel ahead of her, not only of the time, but of the climate.
She finishes the bottle on her own. Much of it went to her cup. You think of warning her but it isn’t your place. You can only watch her head wobble as that hazy look softens her features. On her last gulp, a droplet trickles down her chin. You suspect she might be as unhappy as her husband claimed of himself the previous night. They make a rather sad pairing.
It’s early still. Perhaps once they are settled, it won’t be so tense. They will have a chance to know each other better without the stresses of a war or the road ahead.
Your thoughts stray and your vision fogs as you stare at a blue tapestry. Jazlene continues to babble and suddenly, the clink of her cup jolts you from your trance. You look at her as she slumps against the table. Her shoulders are slack, her arms bent around her head as it droops onto the wood. You can see her breath as she hunches weakly in her chair.
“Your highness?” You call to her. You sway on your feet as you watch her. Come on, move. “Your highness?” You take a step toward her, “Lady Jazlene?”
She groans and slips to the side. You rush around without a thought to catch her. She garbles drunkenly as you hold her in her arms, one leg still on the seat as her other hangs limply. She’s heavier than you would expect.
“Your highness?” You squeak as you struggle to keep her off the ground. You can’t drop the queen.
Her head lolls as her lashes flutter. She is certainly not conscious. The acrid scent of wine rises from her lips. You try to hike her higher, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you grunt. She’s not that big, you’re just weak. You can carry a cask or a chest, but a person is a much different matter.
You wrap your arms around her and haul her around the table. Her slippers drag and you clatter into the chairs and nearly trip on the edge of the rug. Your leg muscles thrum with the effort and your back racks. You look around. The bedchamber is too far.
You turn and little by little, step by step, drag her to the couch. Her feet loudly scrape across the floor. You angle her around with another laboured grunt and as you do, the hinges whine and the left door opens. You look up as the king enters and your lips part in surprise. You’ve been caught. Rather, the queen has.
He stares at you and eases shut the door. He comes around as your arms quake. He wordlessly takes his wife from your grasp and lays her across the sofa. You put a pillow under her head and back up, rubbing your upper arms.
“Your highness, she was not feeling well,” you say.
“She has drunk herself into a stupor,” he snarls as he backs up, crossing his arms as he glares down at her. “Do not lie, especially on her behalf. It does not become you.”
“Your highness, I apologise. I only worry for her--”
“You shouldn’t,” he intones, “she doesn’t worry for you. Or me. Or anyone but herself.” He turns and goes to the table. He rights the overturned cup and you reproach yourself for not doing so first. “But I do appreciate you attending to her. I’d rather not have found her upon the floor.”
“Your highness,” you bow your head.
He’s quiet. You’re unsure what to do next. Should you leave him with Jazlene or stay to tend to her? He will need sleep for the ride.
“Little maid, you will send to have a bath drawn. There will be little chance to wash upon the road,” he commands.
“As you wish, your highness.”
“Mm, if only,” he murmurs as she sits and grabs the empty bottle, sneering at its hollowness.
You set off to have water brought to his chamber. You assist the other servants in carrying the vessels of steaming water. All the while, the king ruminates at the table. He picks at his index finger and his cheek ticks. When at last the tub is full, you go to trail out after the castle servants.
“Little maid, I require assistance,” he says.
You remain and the doors close in the tension. You watch the king, your fingers twined together as you cautiously approach. He glowers at his fingers and huffs.
“You have small hands,” he rests his palm open on the table, “please, I would have use of them.”
Curious, you move towards him. He turns to you and holds out his large hand. He pokes his index fingers up and hisses.
“I got it on the door. A splinter,” he explains.
You see the dark spot, just the minuscule tip of it poking above his rough skin. The skin around it is inflamed, both from the sliver and his fussing. You bring your hands to cradle his single one and lean to have a closer look. You keep one hand under his and slip the other down the side of his palm.
You brush your fingertips over the lines of his knuckles. He’s quiet as he lets you gently squeeze. You glance up beneath your lashes.
“It might hurt, your highness. Apologies.”
His cheek twitches, “I’ve had worse than a maid’s touch.”
You squeeze until his flesh his taut. You pinch the tip of the splinter with your other fingers, using your nails to get a grip of it. You pull slowly. Very slowly, terrified of losing hold and having it go deeper. The wooden sliver slides out and before you can examine it, it falls to the floor, disappearing into the fabric of the rug.
The king sighs, “better.” He brings his other hand over yours and covers your small ones with his, “many thanks, little maid.”
He lets you go, his calloused skin brushing your sleeves, and he hums grimly. He bends his head forward and his white waves shift on his shoulders. He pushes his hair back and raises his head again. His eyes almost glow as he looks at you.
“I should fetch some water for the queen in case she stirs--”
“Later,” he dismisses, “might I ask another favour of such delicate hands?”
You dip your chin down, “I serve you and the queen, your highness.”
“Mm, yes, you recall, the knot in my shoulder, where I carry my sword,” he points along his shoulder, “if it isn’t trouble, I might have you loosen it before I must ride anon.”
“Your highness,” you acquiesce, curling your fingers into your palms. You remember that first night you met him, as he sat in the steaming tub and had you touch him. You sweat at the memory.
“It would be best before I soak,” he reaches to untie the laces of his tunic.
You watch him, helpless. As with the queen, you can only heed his whims. At least he is gentler in his mastery. He pulls his tunic above his head and strips it away completely. He lets it hang over one leg and squares his shoulders as he sits back in the chair.
You go around him and he moves his hair to his other shoulder. Your hands tremble slightly before you touch him. His muscles are thick and his skin taught across everyone. His arms are rounded with bulk and his neck is bullish in girth. He carries so much strength and power as if it is nothing.
You squeeze the muscles gently with one hand, pressing the other behind it. You knead carefully, gradually putting more behind it, responding to the soft breaths and low grunts rising from the king. You hit a spot with some resistance and he growls.
“There,” he grits as he drops his head forward. “Harder.”
You push your thumb against the little pearl of tension you feel along his shoulder. He exhales deeply and lets out a wolfish snarl. He grips his thigh as you work his flesh. Your hands move without much thought. Lady Rezlyn often requested to have her feet done, a much less ideal task.
“Mm, treasure...” he breathes though his words aren’t entirely clear.
Another noise rises from him, sharper than before. You stop, frightened.
“Your highness, have I hurt you?” You utter.
Before you can retract your hand, he has a hold of you. He lifts his head and hangs it back, his hair spilling down. He looks up at you with his bright eyes as he clings to your hand. He presses it flat and moves it over his shoulder. He drags it down against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.
You’re caught in his gaze and his grasp. You just stand there, entranced by his golden irises. Each time you see them, they are more brilliant than the last. Your own chest tightens and binds up your breath.
“You can never hurt me,” he rasps. You gulp as he lightens his hold and pets your hand. He closes his eyes and winces. “Little maid...” he sits forward and gently moves your hand away from his chest, “you must go now. You must face the road with us and you will require rest.” He lets you go completely and stands. “I trust my wife will have many a demand to keep you busy.”
“Yes, your highness,” you murmur.
“Now,” he insists. “You must go now.”
He crosses the chamber and stops in the door to his bedchamber. You quickly flit over to the doors that lead out to the corridor. You pause and glance over as you sense him move. He stares at you, his eyes licking with flames. His chest rises and falls, trimmed in thick hair that trails down his hard stomach.
“Go...”
You obey and heave open the door. The soldiers on the other side snort. It is late, they must’ve dozed. You don’t think much of that as you harry down the corridor, not looking back. The king’s timber nips at your ears. The way he spoke; ‘go’. It was more than just a word; it was a warning.
⚔️
You rise with the castle, quickly falling into the tumult of the impending departure. When you arrive at the king’s chambers that morning, you are sent away. You find Jazlene in her own. He must have taken her back before the sun.
She is groggy and sombre as you help her dress. The pain in her skull leaks out in pathetic moans. You offer her lemons water and a cool cloth for her head. You see the difference as she accepts but she remains weak. It will be difficult for her to ride.
Horses fill the courtyard and the luggage carts crowd around the stables and rear of the castle. The scene reminds you of Debray. You only hope Queen Jazlene does not cause a similar scene. You don’t believe she can.
You accompany her to the front of the train. The king is not there. The queen clutches her throat as if she might be sick as the smell of the horses is stirred by their whipping tails. She grumbles and calls for a water skin. You find one and she shooes you away.
“Enough of you,” she snips.
You stay close, keeping watch should she signal for anything else. She can barely lift her head to do more than drink thirstily. Lords and ladies as good as ignore the queen as she mutters to her horse.
“Eh, mouse, there y’are,” Bryce’s voice undercuts your pity. “I’ve been looking for ya.”
You face him and the weight slips from your shoulders, “you have?”
“What are you insinuating?” He challenges, “Daisy’s missing ya.”
“Oh,” your brows raise, “well, it just so happens I miss her too.”
“We’ll be off soon. You should come claim your place with the luggage.”
“Should,” you agree.
You follow him through the press of bodies. You get further down, away from the pages and soldiers, see Daisy lazily hoofing at the ground. She chews on a sparse bit of grass in the dust. As you near, you notice that her holster is thicker than it was. She is attached to a small cart.
“What is this?” You ask as you stop short.
“It’s yours, mouse,” Bryce says staunchly, “isn’t right you riding with the chests. Not for so far as we need to go.”
“You... you did this for me?” You ask. "But... what about--”
“Found a spare horse. He’s a bit less friendly than our beloved but he’ll do fine enough,” he explains, “’sides, Daisy needs a respite. She don’t needa be carrying around my hefty behind much longer.”
“Oh, my,” you put your hand to your cheek and go to the cart, “Sir Bryce, you are a true knight.”
“Don’t you get sappy with me,” he tuts as he follows. “Look inside, will ya?”
You look inside the cart. There’s a long cushion and a pack. It’s a lot compared to what you came with; nothing. Bryce reaches in and tugs something from beneath the cushion. You watch the fur ripple out as he reveals the cloak. It’s thick and long and hooded. He holds it up.
“When we get to the Hinterlands, you’ll be needing this,” he says.
You touch the fur, it’s soft. You blink and feel it between your fingers. Your eyes sting.
“Sir,” you bat your lashes, “it is too much for me.”
“It isn’t very much, you are just too humble, mouse,” he folds and holds it out to you. “Now, don’t you be telling anyone this was my doin’. I got a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh,” you clamp your lips shut as you try to hold back your emotion.
A smile breaks through and you bare your teeth. Your cheeks hurt from the joy bursting forth. You hug the cloak and rock, looking around. As you do, you falter at a familiar face.
The king leads a dark horse along the edge of the yard. He is looking at you, or so it seems. You let your expression slip and tamp down your glee. You bow your head in King Geralt’s direction.
When you look up again, he is gone.
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#the witcher#winter's king
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Worldbuilding is so fun sometimes cause I can just say shit like “yeah on my fantasy planet their equivalent of dinosaurs never went extinct and also they’re a major food source for dragons” and literally no one can refute this
#dinosaurs and dragons are distinctly different species i also need you to know this#because dragons can have viable offspring with humans while dinos cannot. hope this helps#writing#fantasy writing#i would put this in my wip tag but i don’t have one#i forget if i have a personal post tag or not
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I don’t think anything will come from this, but for your consideration, my latest brainrot:
A sort-of Grease!AU with Rose as Sandy and Blanche as Danny (or, even better, Rizzo).
That’s all. You can go.
#if you’re wondering: yes. this was brought about by Hozier’ ‘too sweet’#which is. by all counts. not a love song#but the idea of rose being ‘too sweet’ for blanche hit me like a lightning bolt upon first listen#and I had to put it out there#realistically speaking I have nothing to add to this. i already have too many wips I’m working on#and it’s still a very unbalanced idea. for one idk where to place Dorothy#she doesn’t strike me as either the Danny or the Sandy type#maybe she’d be a better Rizzo? Italian. disillusioned#but her brand of self-denial doesn’t really fit with Rizzo’s self-destruction in my mind#to be fair all of them are pretty upright citizens. none of them properly fit the ‘bad girl’ type#blanche is just the one that feels the most similar to me#and she did do some wild stuff in her adolescence (at least according to her). might all be tales. but…#idk idk there’s potential there. obviously a lot of stuff would have to be changed but rn I don’t have anything to add to it#you know. maybe I just want to see Blanche in a leather jacket now that I think about it#god I hope people read the tags on my posts. 3/4 of the post is in here#the golden girls#golden wives
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~ Intro page ~
Howdy! I’m Trade, a 22-year-old writer and aspiring conservationist from the UK. I can often be found hunched over my sketchbook, walking in the wilderness, or travelling to whichever county I can find volunteering opportunities in.
This blog is primarily for any odd interest I have, although I angle it as a writerblr the most. You can find my art and occasional writing under the #trade-marked tag on this here blog. Following this are the current, past, and future WIPs I have. Please enjoy!
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Prophet story (title pending) (in progress) - when a prophets brother is possessed by a god-killing sickness, a race begins to preserve or destroy the last relics of dead divinity, and refuse or give forgiveness for errors of the past. Featuring the complexities of brotherhood, the thin line between “prophet” and “schizophrenic”, a divine and glorious anger and a desperate attempt to reach someone who may already be lost to you. Tagged under #prophet wip
The Spiders Song (complete!) - With a devastating plague wrecking a kingdom and a city, a group of semi-experienced people try and retrieve a cure in time to save their homes - and try not to kill each other on the way. Featuring enemies-to-friends, a patron-based magic system with gods who have no problem getting involved in their servants lives, the exact lengths you would go through to save someone you love, and a funny little ghost. Tagged under #tss
The Crows Death (sequel to TSS) (on hold) - after retrieving the cure and escaping a cruel gods clutches, peace should be assured to our weary adventurers - until the crowned prince of Glalis is kidnapped and held as a sacrifice, leaving the rest of the team to try and track him down and save him before it’s too late. Featuring the gruelling process of confronting and recovering from trauma, a blood-feud so old that no one can remember why or how it started, intense contemplation of mortality, and a budding and doomed sapphic romance. Tagged under #tcd
Short story collection (in progress) - a group of interlinked short stories, based in the TSS world, following the only servant to the Spider to ever escape their god, and the process they underwent as a child to adjust to the real world. Featuring adoptive parental figures, an extreme skew on how the world works, a secret our servant has to learn to keep to themselves, and a constant lure back to a manipulative and cloying god, who waits only a short walk away from this new haven. Tagged under #atlas
Necromancer WIP (title pending) (developing) - the next generation after TCD. When the next necromancer is finally born in one of the highest and richest levels of Glalis, the kingdom seems to be fully recovering and back to normal - until a second is discovered in the lowest, poorest part. This spare servant is taken from her community to the palace, and starts to notice the discrepancies between where she was raised and what these privileged elites seem to have. Featuring strong class conflicts and ties, young children trying to make sense of a complex issue, an exploration of privilege and magic in deprived societies, and characters carried onwards from the previous stories because it’s my book and I do what I want. Untagged.
Ghost WIP (title pending) (developing) - a young girl is marked as the new bearer of the ghost crown, which is already bad news, made worse by the fact she’s still alive. Featuring a begrudgingly made father figure, a reverse heist, a race against bounty hunters to stay alive, and a corrupting and powerful heirloom, calling for one girls head. Tagged under #ghost wip
Colour WIP (title pending) (developing) - when a rare purple mage is found living in isolation with her paranoid parents, she is taken under the wing of a blind red mage, and able to learn about her magic whilst staying connected to her roots. Featuring a magic system that merges Waterbending with the colour wheel, intense political and class divides, and an mentor/apprentice plot of some sort. Untagged.
Death is a Silvertongue (complete!) - a mute Silvertongue tries to balance the guilt of manipulation with the responsibility of using their ability correctly - and then blows up a factory, adding a ghostly crowd to their conscious. Featuring intense platonic love, dabblings with faith, recovery, and me having a lot of fun with the extreme limitations of British Sign Language in America. Tagged under #dias
#Writerblr#writerblr intro#Writingblr#writblr#my tumblr#my blog#I don’t??? Know why to tag this as???#Hi! I’ve made one of these already but thought maybe I should update it so it’s not just a tag game#And also cause I’ve realised I have stories I’ve never mentioned on here#And also because a lot of my stories are. Different now! To the last time I spoke about them!#I’m currently working on prophet wip which is the one with Theo nd Cain so that’s cool#I’ll try and update this as things change but who knows man#I’ll. also try and do a comic sans intro for the prophet story cause I don’t think I have yet???#I’m currently working on it! That’s cool!#I’m also excited by the colour wip. It’s very loose at the moment but. Mmm!#Feels odd to put Dias on here haha? I’ve. Not done anything for it for. Four? Years? Now? Maybe????#That’s wild. But? I would feel sad if I just left it yknow?#There’s a house in my city that I base Leon’s house on. I walk past it sometimes and think of him#Hope they’re doing well 😔#Also edited to add the necromancer story because I forgot about it oops!!!!!
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#hyperspecific poll#polls#listen you canNOT hold that first one against me. i was 12-14#medical rant in the next five tags#i’m also not convinced that walking pneumonia is what i got#but the health issues that i’ve been dealing with since i got it could also just be a result of it not getting treated properly#like i was put on an inhaler and i told my mom i would need another one when it ran out and then she just didn’t ask about getting a refil#so i was just like ‘k guess i’ll suffer’#and don’t tell me to go to the doctor unless you intend to pay for it because i am broke and don’t have insurance#the 200+ wips isn’t even an exaggeration#poll#polls i’ve made#userkarson
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Destiel fic recs
Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.
Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)
You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?
This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.
Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.
This one is hard to put down.
Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)
Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.
It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.
There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.
Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)
A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.
This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.
It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.
Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)
I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?
This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter
Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)
I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.
So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.
Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.
The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)
If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.
The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.
A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)
On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.
Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.
Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.
i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)
My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.
Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.
It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.
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Wake
A/N: Finally another part of my darksugardaddy!joel. This has been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and I’m so pleased with how it turned out. Be kind to me as I haven’t written in a while and I feel terrible about starving you all of content.
Summary: Joel comes home to fuck your lights out.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, dub-con with non-con elements, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, choking, passing out, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink
Word count: 2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50908876
Wake
It’s a late afternoon when you come to a realization; you don’t love Joel Miller, and you don’t think you could ever love Joel Miller. He is everything that you’ve been taught to hate if you want to believe in fairytales. Your parents would disapprove of him so immediately that you’d be terrified of them cutting you off from them if they knew of his existence.
You’ve never had a man be this rough with you, and only occasionally stroking your hair in apology afterward, but you suppose that the copious amounts of money spent on you - clothes that feel like armor around regular men and expensive bottles of wine that might as well have been potions designed to make you insane - is enough to make up for any unpleasantries within what you don’t dare call a relationship.
You don’t love him but you can’t hate him. Not in a way that any other person would. How else would you surround yourself with pretty things? You’re no good at anything else than being what he needs.
Whenever he has had a bad day, you know the roughness will increase. It always starts the same; with a slam of the mansion door and a hungry search for you through the obnoxiously large building. He calls for you and you don’t dare not to answer, and in the end, he finds you in the extravagant living room - one of many - with its gold-rimmed glass tables and Chesterfield couches. You’ve been reading a book, but you put it down the second he enters and don’t even bother asking to read to the next full stop.
“There you are,” he almost heaves for breath with exhaustion from his anger. He isn’t angry at you - you know this - but still, you find yourself treading lightly when his voice is so cold that the living room seems to drop a few degrees in temperature and causing your nipples to harden at the sudden change.
Then, as part of your ritual, he gets a thick wad of bills from the inside pocket of his suit and places it on the nearest surface. A bank transfer won’t do in these situations. He needs something physical, something he can hold in his hand and flash before you, and you know that he wants you to fall to your knees and beg for the warmth and dirtiness of the printed bills against your clean skin.
You’re just about to when he interrupts you.
“There will be more when you wake,” he promises, voice almost too quiet and restrained. Like he is saving his strength.
You notice his choice of words; when you wake.
Wake.
You gulp. You’ll have to take it in stride. You’ll have to play the part.
You rise from your seat and he watches you patiently. You say nothing as you lower yourself onto the glass table and then lie down on your back, knowing it can hold because Joel would never buy a surface that he couldn’t have you on.
You’ve learned not to wear anything too difficult to get out of, so it takes little time for you to pull off your skirt. Though you struggle a bit with your underwear since they’re already damp, sticking to the outline of your cunt and the sight makes Joel smirk like the Devil. Curse him, you think, for knowing that you can barely function when he looms over you like a giant, like a dangerous predator that hasn’t tasted blood for weeks.
When you manage to maneuver your panties down your thighs, he twitches with impatience and curls his whole fist around the cotton fabric. He yanks them down and watches them twist into themselves as he pulls them down over the length of your legs and off your feet.
They catch on your heels for the tiniest second. He gracefully undoes the ankle straps of them and drops each one onto the floor after taking it off. The anticipation is killing you, toying with your ability to breathe properly and even moreso at the humiliation of only wearing your top now.
“Pull it down,” he commands, gesturing to it. You start to yank at the bottom to pull it over your head but he growls, “Down. Not off, stupid bitch.”
Oh.
You pull the neckline down to settle it underneath your breasts, feeling like something on display with the way that Joel takes you in. His cock strains against the front of his pants, his breath uneven, when he cups both of your tits in his hands and pushes them roughly together. His thumbs skim over your hardened nipples, causing you to moan and he responds by pinching them instead until the moan transforms into a whimper.
“I’m gonna fuck you until your pretty little lights go out,” he mutters, pinches, and then tugs a bit on your nipples until you move involuntarily, “Lie still. Don’t give me any shit.”
He takes a step back, his gaze pinning you down whilst he undoes his belt. You refrain from shivering in case he tells you off once more, but you’re so close to doing it when you hear the noise of his zipper. A gush of wetness seeps from you, possibly smearing the glass surface that you are lying on.
“Please,” you say pathetically.
“Please what?” He asks as if he doesn’t care.
“Daddy,” you present your cunt for him by opening your legs and Joel instinctively looks at your quivering slit, “Please fuck me.”
Joel steps between your legs, using his knees to push them even further apart. He towers over you, cock standing impressively into the air after he has shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs. He tuts at the desperate look in your eyes, “I barely make it through the front door before you’re spreading your legs for me.”
You want to argue that he was the one who sought you out, but he might leave you with a throbbing cunt if you have the audacity to play smart with him, so instead you just nod with a breathless ‘yes’.
He places one knee on the coffee table, following up with scooping a hand underneath the small of your back to align your lower pelvises. His grip is so strong, his bare skin, the amount you are allowed to feel, burns against your own. Like King Midas, his touch enriches you, turns you into something as valuable as gold.
His cock breaches your tight cunt moments after. He watches you intently as your eyes screw shut with the inevitable sting that it brings due to his generous girth. He seats himself to the hilt inside of you and reaches something you didn’t even know a man could get to when he presses his hand into the spot where it rests on your back.
“Good girl,” he praises with a strained moan, “How do you feel?”
“Full,” you say shakily and teasingly clench around him.
He takes in a sharp breath, and before you know it, his free hand has come down on your right breast in a harsh slap. He adds to it by palming your throat afterward, tightly gripping it when you try to squeeze around his length again after not having been given time to react to the consequence of doing it the first time. You smirk up at him and he nearly loses his mind.
“God, you just want it bad, don’t you, little girl?” His hips draw back and he keeps you waiting for the briefest second before slamming them forward again. The force behind his thrusts is borderline painful, but the way his hand arches your back makes his cockhead pound your front wall.
The moans you let out are barely there, high-pitched or silent with the way he knocks all wind out of you whilst simultaneously cutting off oxygenated blood to your brain.
He fucks you like an animal, all groans and grunts, sweat dripping from his brow because he is too hungry for dominance to undress. He loves being able to quickly flee the scene afterward and loves leaving you with no clothes on so you cannot follow him.
But it’s not the amount of clothes that he wears compared to you that gets you close to the edge. It is the fact that nothing around you feels real except for him. Even you don’t feel real but rather closer to an inanimate object that only comes alive because of the dark eyes that penetrate your own.
You’ve known this fact for a while. Despite the love not being there, you know that after this arrangement has started - you don’t know what else to call it - his mere looking at you is what makes you materialize.
Your fingers come up to curl around his wrist. You cannot breathe and it fucking hurts, only dulled by the way that your cunt starts to flutter with how close he has gotten you to the edge. You hadn’t expected him to make you come.
With wide eyes, you look up at him in an attempt to tell him what is going on. He holds your gaze, pleased with himself as he drives into you, “I know, little girl, don’t have to tell me, I can feel you.”
You don’t have the guts to fight his harsh hand. You take it with tears forming in your eyes and the feeling of your pulse pounding in your neck where it’s fighting to get past his bruising grip.
“Say it, say that you love me, that you’re nothing without me,” he commands, but when you try to speak it is nothing but a squeak. He has his hand so tightly around your windpipe that you cannot get a word past your lips, drooling and shaking underneath his lack of mercy as your tongue feels too big for your mouth. He grins maniacally down at you as your vision blurs around the edges, “Made you speechless, did I? You filthy whore.”
You have always been familiar with the term putting someone’s lights out, but you’ve never understood the true meaning until Joel came into your life. You come hard, unfolding beneath his touch, with tears on your cheeks - and then there’s nothing.
Like a child falling asleep in a car seat, you have been carried up the stairs and into your bedroom. You sit up in your comfy bed and try to piece together how you have gotten here, and when you realize, it is because of your underwear and skirt messily and hurriedly sitting around your ankles.
You tug your bottom garments up again. There is something sticky between your legs, and you know, immediately. what it is when you start to shift your legs and are hit with soreness. Everything hurts, but nothing seems to be broken or damaged.
You glance to your right and spot the stack of bills that Joel had flashed earlier. It is neatly placed on the edge of the table along with a glass of water and some aspirin. You’ll take them soon, need to feel the ache a little while longer.
Instead of doing what is most comfortable (like taking the damn pills), you reach for the money instead. A delusional person would argue that they still feel warm, the temperature somewhere between newly printed and body heat. You take a few of them in your hand, and then you press them against your skin. The fact that you find it soothing is pathetic.
The wonder and innocence of being carried upstairs as a kid doesn’t translate into adulthood, you think, and then you lay down to fall into a deep sleep.
.
.
.
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Tonight | Joel Miller X Wedding Planner F!Reader
authors note: finally got this one out! with a new job and new house, life has been pretty chaotic recently but I finally got back into my usual writing schedule!! lots of wips at the moment so prepare for those!
part three of love is in the air
part one here: love is in the air
part two here: tensions rise
summary: Joel thought that he would be having the time of his life the night before his wedding. But he’s conflicted, for all he can think about is you.
warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, infidelity, age gap (24 and 46), nicknames (baby girl, doll, baby) fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, angst
word count: 4.6k
“We really can’t be doing this anymore, it isn’t right…”
The words repeated in Joel’s head over and over and over again. He gripped his drink of whiskey, swirling it around before taking a swig. Looking around, he saw all his buddies laughing and dancing, having the time of their lives and partying. Partying just like how he should be doing. But instead, he stood in the corner with a drink in hand, lost in his thoughts.
It was the night before his wedding, the last night he would be considered a single man. Much of his freedom will be washed away from him when he finally ties the knot. He was supposed to be getting wasted with his friends and having a blast, having one last ‘hoo-rah.’
But he felt like shit, to put it lightly.
He watched as all of his friends were having a good time without him at a party that was supposed to be for him letting loose.
He would say that he would much rather be home than here, but that would also be a lie. Jenna would most likely be home. He wanted to be with you.
Taking a deep breath, Joel finished his glass of whiskey in one go before setting it down. With a groan, he rubbed his temples and another sigh left his lips.
“Pre-wedding nerves?” Tommy joined him in his corner with a laugh. He could smell the alcohol on his breath.
Joel chuckled and nodded, “S’pose you could say that.”
Yes, he was nervous and anxious, but they didn’t feel like the pre-wedding jitters he’d heard so much about from his married friends.
His nerves felt more like a sense of guilt, of regret. Possibly regret of sleeping with someone that wasn’t his fiancee, but he knew damn well that wasn’t it either.
His thoughts were messy and unorganized, all because of you.
All he could think about was you.
“Don’t be all mopey for the rest of the night. Come dance with us.” Tommy’s words were slurred, but Joel was barely paying attention anyway. With another laugh, his brother walked back to the rest of the group, leaving Joel on his own once again.
Instead of going with him and having a good time, he ordered another whiskey, drinking in silence.
┉┉┉
It’s late, nearing one in the morning. Sitting at your kitchen table, you dunked your tea bag into the warm water several times. Your eyes were tired and droopy as you watched the lemon tea bag go up and down, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then and there.
However, sleep seemed to be a big struggle for you. You were laying in bed for hours, restless. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Joel and Jenna standing at the altar, sharing a loving kiss as they became one. Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Your heart would initially sink, and your stomach would be sick. And immediately after, you would feel guilty and stupid for feeling that way in the first place.
They were your clients—Joel was only a client. You were the one who helped them plan their wedding. You should be ecstatic to see them finally marry. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t.
What’s worse, you’ll have to attend their wedding tomorrow to make that a reality. You wished you could bail somehow and devise an excuse, but this was a part of your job. You needed to make sure that everything ran smoothly at their ceremony.
The thought made you uneasy. However, you tried your absolute best to push your feelings aside. You couldn’t let yourself be selfish. Not when you need to remain professional.
Sipping your tea, you hoped it would help you relax and ease your mind and racing thoughts. Maybe then you could sleep without having to envision Joel and Jenna kissing at the altar over and over again.
You almost felt like you were losing your mind. You had never felt so reluctant about attending a wedding that you assisted in planning before. But it was different with the Millers. So, so different.
You thought your time with Joel was just going to be a one-time thing, one mistake. But that one mistake turned into two. And now, you couldn’t take your mind off of him.
You had to keep reminding yourself that you needed to keep things professional between the two of you. Even though you had failed this before, you needed to put it in stone now before it was too late. He was getting married tomorrow, and you needed to accept that fact. He is in a happy and loving relationship; that’s something you need to swallow.
Taking a sip of your tea, you closed your eyes and felt the relaxation hit you instantly with the warm lemon flavor. It never fails to calm your nerves. While they weren’t gone completely, they did decrease significantly.
With a few more sips, you were sure that you’d be able to fall asleep in no time. After all, you needed to be wide awake and perky tomorrow morning for the wedding. But no matter how many times you tasted the calming lemon tea, Joel never left your mind.
You kept thinking about the way he felt, the way he touched you, the way he held you as he would thrust into you over and over again. Just thinking about it made your cheeks hot and your pussy throb. But the way he made you feel was what stuck in your head the most.
Clearing your throat, you sighed before sipping your tea, already close to finishing it off. You were just hoping that this would work and you would be able to drift to sleep without another thought of Joel.
After a few minutes, you started feeling more relaxed and drowsy. You felt as if you were going to lie down in bed and attempt to fall asleep, and you may have been successful.
That was until you heard a knock on the door.
Your eyes quickly widened as your heart rate picked up. A knock on your door was the very last thing you were expecting. It scared the shit out of you, to say the least.
Your heart was still pounding as you slowly turned to face the door. You were cautious, for it was the middle of the night, and you had no clue who was at your door or why. You felt your heart in your throat as you slowly stood up, still overly wary.
Surely, if it was a murderer, they would have already attempted to break into your house, right?
A second knock followed shortly after the first as you approached the door.
With a deep breath, you slowly creaked the door open, cracking it open an inch to see who could be at your house at this hour before opening it up completely.
It was Joel.
You furrowed your eyebrows and opened the door, knowing that it was safe and that it was somebody you actually knew. But that didn’t calm all of your thoughts. You were still beyond confused. Why would Joel be at your doorstep? On the night before his wedding, of all nights? Shouldn’t he be cuddled up in bed with his bride-to-be all fast asleep?
While you were lost in your thoughts, Joel was staring at you, lost in his own. His eyes bore into your own, a swirl of thoughts in his mind.
“Joel?” Was all you could say before he took a step forward, not even saying a word before putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you into him.
His soft lips crashed into yours, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. He kept you close, as if he were to let go, he would lose you completely, and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
You didn’t hesitate for a second before kissing him back passionately. You felt as though you wished upon a star, and now your dream came true. You had been thinking all night about Joel, and now here he was, standing on your front porch kissing you as if you two were the last people on Earth.
Your arms draped around his neck, bringing him in even closer to you if possible. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting all of you that he possibly could. It pained him to know that this could potentially be your last kiss. Although, there shouldn’t have even been one in the first place. He was supposed to be a married man soon, for fuck’s sake. But you were like a drug to him. He kept on coming back for more. Neither of you could get enough of each other. Each promise that you made to yourselves never lasted. There was always a part of you that knew you two would find each other again one way or another.
“Joel.” You tried to mumble against his lips, but your words were muffled as he kept kissing you, never wanting to stop.
He shook his head to shush you and brought your lips back to his into a passionate kiss.
He moved his hands down to your ass, giving them a cheeky squeeze before grabbing your waist, picking you up, and placing you on his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss never breaking in the process.
His strong arms kept a grip on you while he moved you over to the counter to place you down, his hands squeezing and caressing your hips. Pulling his lips away slightly, he moved them down to your jaw, placing kisses down to your neck.
“Joel..” You took the opportunity to speak but interrupted yourself with a moan when Joel found the weak spot on your neck. He already knew you and your body much too well, “Your wedding’s tomorrow. We really shouldn’t-”
You trailed off from your sentence when Joel pulled away to look you straight in the eyes, “You want me to stop?” He whispered, his hand still firm on your hip.
You didn’t want him to stop. And he knew that you didn’t from the way you looked at him, the way all your emotions swirled in your eyes.
“We shouldn’t.” You repeated, but Joel quickly stopped you before you could say anything else.
“I asked if you wanted me to stop.” He shook his head slowly, never looking away from your eyes. He could feel you tense slightly under his touch, debating with your mind on how to answer.
“I…” You whispered, licking your lips as you looked him up and down. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the bulge in his pants, and your mouth went dry. You wanted this man in front of you so damn bad. You knew it was beyond messed up and wrong, but you knew that this was your last chance with him, that after this, he would be married for good, “No. I don’t want you to..” You whispered breathily and pulled him in for another kiss, your fingers getting tangled up in his hair.
He smirked against your lips as he kissed you back instantly, proud of your words. They were exactly what he wanted to hear. He wasn’t ready to let go of you yet and wanted to show you that.
He moved his hands from your waist up to your chest, cupping your breasts in both of his hands. Your moan vibrated against his lips as he slipped his hands underneath your tank top, his strong hands now caressing your skin. The coldness of his hands sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms.
His thumbs moved over your nipples as he massaged your breasts with both of his hands, knowing just how to touch you to please you.
It was a familiar feeling, the feeling of guilt and pleasure all in one. Your mind has already told you, screamed at you, countless times before that you shouldn’t be doing this, that you shouldn’t allow yourself to be in this position. But no matter how much you reminded yourself that this wasn’t right, you couldn’t stop. Especially now, when this may be your last chance to be with him again.
The thought that you may lose him after tonight made you pull him in closer to you, wanting to be as physically close as you possibly could. You wanted to touch and feel all of him, memorizing every nook and cranny in his body to keep stored in your memory when he would inevitably disappear from your life.
You didn’t want to lose him, but you couldn’t express those feelings, especially not now. You didn’t want to ruin this moment between you. You just wanted to enjoy it while you still could.
“God, I need you so bad, baby girl.” Joel mumbled quietly in your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe. This caused you to lean your head back slightly and sent a warm vibration over your lower body.
You need him just as much. But you didn’t need to say any words to get that message across. He could tell the second he moved his hand under your panties, slipping a finger rather easily into your wet folds.
Joel groaned as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with lust and want. Knowing and feeling how much you wanted him turned him on even more. His bulge was prominent in his pants; it was almost unbearable. He could feel it throb with eagerness, being trapped by his boxers.
“Tonight, you’re all mine.” He growled, attacking your lips with his.
That one word stuck with the both of you. Tonight. He was yours, and you were his, but only for tonight. After that, he would belong to Jenna. And tonight, you would make sure that you would make it one hell of a night, for it may as well be your final night.
Agreeing with his words, you kissed him back passionately, your teeth nearly clashing with his. You put your hands on his cheek, his scruff prickling against your skin. You nearly held onto him as you kissed him, letting out all the emotions you’ve kept down since now.
“Bedroom.” Joel demanded, out of breath, panting against your lips for a quick moment before pulling away. He held onto your hips and helped you down off the counter. You could only smile in excitement as you made your way to the bedroom, Joel right on your heels.
Joel’s shirt was already half off when he stepped into the bedroom. He really wasn’t wasting any time.
You lay on your bed, resting your head on the pillows, your eyes watching Joel’s every move. Within the blink of an eye, Joel was on top of you as he threw his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner of the room.
Your hands instantly moved up to his chest, running your hands up and down as he started to take off your pants effortlessly. You were sure that by the end of the night, you would have touched every single inch of his body.
“Look at ya, look how damn gorgeous you are.” Joel shook his head, his tongue going over his lower lip. He gazed upon your body, putting his entire focus on you as if it was the first time he had ever seen your body underneath him.
You blushed and failed to hold in your smile as you stared up at him, “Oh, just fuck me already, Mr. Miller.”
Joel chuckled lowly and shook his head as he moved his hands down to his hips, his fingers grazing your skin gently, “Little impatient are we?” He whispered, lowering down to press kisses on your jaw down to your chest.
“Very.” You admitted with an involuntary whine, needing him more than ever. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to wait without him inside of you.
Joel smirked at your confession and shook his head teasingly. Oh, how he loved to tease you and see you squirm under his touch, just desperate to feel all of him.
“I love seeing you needin’ me so bad..” Joel cooed and caressed your hips firmly with his thumbs, “I won’t make ya wait any longer.” He didn’t admit it, but he was just as desperate as you. He didn’t want to spend another second without him inside of you. He wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk, wanted to make this a night that you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about for the rest of the week.
Without any more warning, he slipped inside you with ease.
“Fuck, I love this pussy.” Joel groaned and held onto your hips tighter as he pushed himself inside of you. It wasn’t his first time fucking you, but each time felt like the first. He could never get sick of you. Whereas with Jenna, he couldn’t even remember the last time they spent a night together.
You fit him like a glove as if your pussy was made just for him, and he had found the missing puzzle piece. Joel took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down just a little. He didn’t want to get himself too excited, for he wanted this moment to last. And seeing you like this and just being inside of you was more than enough to get him going. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want this to be the last.
You and him both knew that you didn’t want him to go through with this marriage. Jenna never did anything wrong necessarily, but there was just something about you that she was lacking. He wanted to be with you and to stay with you. And even though you couldn’t admit it to him, you wanted the same exact thing. You had an ounce of hope that after tonight, he would tell you that the wedding was off and he was going to stay with you. But that was just wishful thinking.
“Nice and wet just for me.” Joel breathed, his hot breath hitting against the sensitive skin of your neck. Your skin tingled, yearning for the feeling of his lips on your neck.
His thrusts were slow and steady at first, getting you nice and eased in. But it wasn’t long until he pulled out before going back in one thrust, getting as deep as he possibly could, “God, I just wanna be deep inside of ya, doll.” he mumbled before doing it once more, the feeling of being empty to completely full causing you to moan.
You tried not to think about the possibility of it being your last time with him, and it was easy to do so at the moment, considering that your mind felt foggy from him thrusting into you over and over again.
You leaned your head back and grabbed onto his hair for something to hold onto as he thrusted mercilessly into you. The tugging of his hair only made him more motivated as he quickened up the pace. He could feel himself getting close, but he tried his best to distract himself from finishing for he didn’t want this to end any time soon.
He held himself up with one hand over your head, the other grasping onto your breast, squeezing and teasing the nipple while he kept the pace of his thrusts. With each thrust, you let out a moan or a breath of pleasure.
This was something that you had enjoyed about sleeping with Joel so much. The fact that he knew exactly what you liked and that he knew what he was doing was incredible for you. He was the first to make you finish, and he’s always ensured you did.
You loved it. And for your own selfish reasons, you weren’t ready to let it go. To let him go.
Joel moved his hand from your breast to caress and squeeze your hip, the gentle squeezing making you even wetter. You loved the effect he had on you.
“Fuck, Joel! You’re incredible, fuck” You moaned out, feeling like your words were choked up in your throat. Moans followed your words, making you feel almost pathetic for how he easily made you feel like this.
Your head leaned back against the pillow, and you bit your bottom lip. So hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to taste blood sometime soon.
Joel groaned and smirked at your praise. It was just that little bit of motivation that kept him going.
There was a deep sinking feeling in his heart. Not because he knew he would be married to someone else soon, but because he was sleeping with somebody else. But knowing that this might be the last time he would be so intimate with you. It pained him to think about it.
However, he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted and doleful, for his current goal was to make both of you feel good. And damn, he was going to do a good job of it.
“God, so fucking sexy,” Joel groaned and leaned down slightly to kiss your neck, a place that you were badly aching for him to touch, “Can’t get enough of you.” He bit your neck gently, pulling the skin slightly before placing a kiss over and over again on that same spot.
“I’m close, fuck I’m close.” You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut, putting all of your focus on getting to your climax.
Joel took these words and continued to do precisely what he was doing, gripping and squeezing your waist while keeping the same pace with his thrusts, knowing just what you wanted, just what you needed. He knew you like the back of his hand.
Your hands moved down from his hair onto his shoulders as you felt the finish line getting closer and closer.
“Come for me, baby.”
With your nails dug into his back, you kept your eyes shut and moaned and screamed out his name, your climax taking you by storm. You felt elated as he continued his thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm.
Your breaths became quicker as you came down from your climax, your heart racing at a million miles an hour. You felt as though you were on cloud nine. The idea that this was possibly the last time wasn’t even in your mind anymore. All you could think about was how incredible this man was able to make you feel, each time without fail.
With you finishing, Joel didn’t feel the need to hold himself back anymore, knowing that he had gotten you where he wanted you to be. He squeezed your waist gently and leaned his head back, the veins in his neck nearly popping as he came inside of you. Wet and hot rope after rope shooting inside of you, he felt as though it was one of the longest and most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced.
While he was with Jenna, you were the one who made him feel good about himself. You made him feel like the man he was. His legs nearly shook as he slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you instantly missing the feeling of being connected so intimately.
Joel kissed the top of your head before slowly laying down next to you, wrapping his arm around you. You had already come down from your climax while Joel’s heart was still racing, and his breathing was unsteady.
“God, you never fail to amaze me.” You break the silence and laugh.
Joel chuckled along with you and rubbed your arm as he pulled you in closer to his naked body, “Same goes for you, doll.”
While the two of you were feeling incredible, you knew that there was an elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to begin to discuss. But you know you had to.
“So, you’re getting married tomorrow.” The words felt forced from your lips as you glanced over at him.
You could feel him tense up once you brought it up.
“Mhm.” He hummed out and looked down, refusing to look at you.
You almost felt bad for asking, but you knew that it had to be done, “Must be pretty exciting, huh?”
You were hoping that he would say what you were hoping, that the wedding wouldn’t be happening in the first place. But again, that was nothing but hopeful thinking.
Joel opened his mouth to say something but sighed, his body still tense, “You would think so,” he spoke quietly, holding onto your shoulder a bit tighter to reassure himself. He couldn’t hide the truth from you. He didn’t want to, “But I’m not feeling the least bit excited. It’s dread, is what I’ve been feelin’. And I can’t lie, baby, you’re all I can think about.”
This is what you wanted to hear. But it didn’t feel right. Your heart was still sunken in your chest.
“But the wedding?” You whispered while staring up at him, wanting him to continue.
“The weddin’s tomorrow. I can’t just not marry her, she loves me.” The corner of Joel’s lips turned into a frown, “I can’t do that to her.”
The words hurt you more than you ever thought they would, especially now that you were cuddled up against him, close in his arms. You weren’t ready to let him go.
With your head resting on his chest, he felt at home. You felt safe in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t deny that feelings for him were beginning to develop, which made this all that much harder. And saying goodbye wasn’t necessarily ever easy.
You swallowed the big lump in your throat and nodded slowly. Now was quite possibly the only time you could ever tell him the truth. If you stayed silent, you knew that you would regret it in the near or far future.
“I understand,” Your voice was soft, your throat was tight, “I really do like you, Joel… I’ve loved spending these nights with you. I ended up looking forward, wondering if I may see you again,”
His eyes bore into you as you spoke. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed along with a frown on his lips. He had a gut feeling that he knew where this was heading, and he dreaded the words coming from your lips.
“And I want you to be happy. I know that if you cancel this wedding, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. I don’t want to get in the way of that, not more than I already have. You and Jenna deserve to be happy.” You fought back the tears, refusing to choke up in front of him.
Joel stayed silent and frowned as he looked at you, squeezing his hand gently. He didn’t say a single word as he stood up from your bed. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling down.
It was a silent goodbye. He was hesitant, but he didn’t want to make this goodbye harder than it already was.
He left the room without turning back.
Once you opened your eyes, the tears fell down.
You tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep that night. They are getting married tomorrow. And there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#18+#female reader#writing#fiction#joel miller smut#tlou smut#the last of us smut#joel miller angst#tlou angst#the last of us angst
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I Hate You | One
(So I've decided to finally start posting my works from ao3 on here eek. Here's a cheeky lil one shot about a very angry Noah and reader who hates his guts, enjoy x
My ao3 is https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_like_a_villain_Xx
Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, I have so many WIPs)
CW: smut, angry sex, fingering, p in v unprotected sex, reader slaps Noah, use of derogatory terms, all around a good old hate bang
18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader
”Oh fuck off, Noah. Mr “I’m a big rockstar, I can’t do anything wrong”, you make me sick.” You huffed, throwing the t-shirt you had just folded back into the box of merch. “Always on my fucking case.”
Noah stared at you with fiery eyes, clenching his jaw. “You know what, if your brother wasn’t my best friend and drummer of this fucking band, you wouldn’t even get this opportunity.” He pointed, stepping closer.
”I fucking wish I never met you, asshole.”
That was it for Noah, he stormed out of the green room, the door slamming loudly.
Noah Sebastian, always making sure your day was ruined. You had no idea what his problem was but since Folio, your older brother, invited you on tour as a merch girl, he had been insufferable. Sure, every time you saw the guy you’d end up in some kind of altercation but it had become significantly worse since you stepped foot on the bus on the first day of tour. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears when you placed your bags in your bunk. There was just something about him that pissed you off, his cocky attitude, his stupid hair, the stupid smirk that he always wore- he just really fucking ground your gears.
You groaned, throwing your hair into a claw grip before stacking the boxes on top of each other, ready to take them down to the merch area.
”Who pissed in Noah’s cereal this morning? He was kicking up a storm outside.” Jolly chuckled as he entered the green room.
You laughed. “Thanks for the great idea, I’ll add that to my list of shit I wanna do to him.”
“What are you even fighting about now?” He asked, throwing himself down onto the worn leather couch.
”Fuck knows, I just want this tour to be over so I don’t have to see him.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Where the fuck is Noah? It’s half an hour until showtime!” Matt was fretting, searching behind amps backstage like the 6’3” man would be behind them.
You rolled your eyes. It was always like this, fight with Noah then he disappears until the last second just to make everyone stressed. You put your phone away in your back pocket and groaned.
”I’ll find him, just stick to whatever you're doing.” You patted Matt’s shoulder.
”Is that a good idea, sis?” Nick raised an eyebrow, fed up with your arguing.
You shrugged at your brother. “You have shit to be doing, I’ll be fine.”
You weren’t fine, anxiety bubbled low in your stomach as you searched around the venue for the singer who was nowhere to be found. Fuck, where the hell would he be? You sighed in defeat after searching everywhere inside, pushing the back door to the venue open. The sky was turning dark, the crisp autumn air hitting your bare arms making you shiver as you pulled the sleeves down.
You wandered around the buses, looking for any sign of him, even searching their bus to no avail. You stepped back outside, losing your footing on the step, almost plummeting to the ground when strong arms caught you. You looked down at the inked skin that gripped your waist and jolted away, looking up into fiery coffee coloured eyes.
”Where the fuck have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you!” You snapped, folding your arms over your chest.
Noah chuckled darkly. “It doesn’t matter.”
You could smell the hint of whiskey on his breath as he spoke, towering over you. “Noah, have you been drinking?”
”Why does it matter?” You could now hear the slight slur in his voice.
You sighed. “Fuck, Noah. You have to perform in less than half an hour.”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N it was two drinks.”
You bit your tongue. “Okay, fine, whatever. Just get back in there.”
You turned to walk away, getting halfway towards the doors when you heard him say something under his breath, making your blood boil.
”What was that?” Your jaw clenched as you stormed back towards him.
He smirked. “That skirt makes you look like a hooker.” His eyes roamed down your body, stopping at the black miniskirt and fishnets that covered your legs.
Your open palm met his cheekbone before you could even think. The sound of the slap ricocheting off the buses. He stood there, stunned as you gritted your teeth in anger, your hand burning from the hit.
Before another word could be said, you were pushing your way back inside the venue, his dark eyes watching you.
“After tonight, I’m going the fuck home.” You yelled as you stomped past everyone to the merch area.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Thankfully Noah showed up for his set, cheek still red from your hit and you took some kind of pleasure in knowing that you were the reason for it, although the girls in the crowd swooned over him even more and it made you want to vomit. If you had to hear one more word about how gorgeous he was, you were sure you were going to flip the table.
The venue was finally cleared out and you exhaled the breath you didn’t even realise you had been holding. Busying yourself with putting the merch away was the only thing keeping your mind off the bullshit. You needed to look for plane tickets home so you rushed the job.
”You’re not serious about going home, right?” Your brother picked up a hoodie, folding it into a box.
You chuckled darkly. “If I spend one more second around that man things are gonna get ugly and I don’t think anyone wants that. It’s better if I go home.”
Nick sighed. “What if I talk to him?”
You looked up at your brother who’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he worked. “Nick, it’s been years and nothing has changed. If we stay around each other for one more second, we will end up ripping each other apart. Let’s just get this done so we can go back to the hotel and I can get a plane home tomorrow.”
”Fine.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Go on in, I need to grab a few things.” You told everyone. You were parked at the hotel and you just needed a few minutes of alone time before the others forced you to the hotel bar to say goodbye. You were adamant on going home no matter how much they asked you to stay. You tidied up the bus, knowing it would be a mess when you leave, it’s the least you could do when you were abandoning them for the rest of the tour.
Your mind reeled over the events of the night, replaying Noah’s words and his face when you slapped him. He deserved it, how dare he call you a hooker. You were still fuming about it, seething.
”I heard that you're leaving for LA in the morning?” You didn’t even hear the bus door open and the anger flowing through your veins only grew hotter, burning like poison through your body.
You slammed the trash bag down and turned to him. “Yeah, I am. Is that a problem?”
He sat on the small table, crossing his arms. “No, actually I’m quite excited about it.”
Your eyes rolled in frustration. “Great, fantastic, now fuck off.”
Silence was thick in the air. He didn’t move, he just watched you angrily throw trash into the plastic bag. You couldn’t stand his presence, it was like heavy fog in your mind and you were ready to see red.
”What’s your problem, Noah?” You finally span around, holding your hands out in exasperation.
He huffed a laugh. “I just think you’re the worst person to ever exist, is all.” He shrugged. “You have a weak slap too, it felt like being kissed by a butterfly.”
A scoff left your lips, your fingertips twitching. “Shut up, just shut the fuck up Noah.”
He smirked. “Why? Gonna hit me again?”
”I said shut up.” Your patience was wearing thin.
”You should get some lessons, I know a guy.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
He cocked his head to the side and pouted. “Oh no, is Little Miss Perfect getting frustrated, hm?”
That was it. You marched forward and gripped the front of his hoodie, breathing heavily through your nose. “Listen here, I don’t know what your fucking problem is but can you please just fuck off and leave me alone. I’ll be gone tomorrow, I won’t hang around when we’re home, we won’t have to see each other.” You growled.
His whiskey eyes turned almost black as he stared down at you, his lips curling into a sick smile. “What a shame, I was enjoying this game of cat and mouse.”
You could’ve screamed in his face, grip tightening on his hoodie. “I hate you.”
”Say it again.” His inked fingers wrapped around your wrist. He stood, towering above you, nostrils flaring.
”I hate you.”
He flipped the both of you over, pressing your back against the table, looming over you as if you were prey. You should’ve been scared but your thighs clenched when he stared down at you, chest heaving with anger.
“Say it again, Y/N.” He growled, face inches from yours.
You gulped, face reddening at the closeness and his dominating demeanour. “I fucking hate you.” You spat.
His lips urgently pressed to yours, taking your breath away as he kissed you with so much fire you thought you might die. The hand on his hoodie moved to his chestnut hair, grabbing it at the roots hard. He gasped into your mouth, lifting you up onto the table. His tongue slipped past your lips, sliding against yours, earning a soft groan from you.
He pulled away to pull the Bad Omens long sleeve from your body, eyes travelling down to your bare chest where you had decided to not wear a bra and he practically whined. His hot lips trailed down your chest, his large palm gripping your waist. Your eyes rolled back when his mouth wrapped around the hardened peak of your nipple, your head falling back against your shoulders. His tongue lapped against it, dark eyes looking up at you through long lashes and you were done for.
“Noah-“ you gasped when his hand trailed between your thighs, pushing them apart.
He huffed against your sensitive skin as his hands pushed your tiny skirt up and found the fishnets underneath, tearing a hole in the crotch. You went to protest, to push him away but his fingers gliding against the wet mess on your underwear had the words dying on your tongue.
”Fuck, do you get off on hating me, huh?” He kissed back up to your jaw, hot breath against the flesh of your throat. When you didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of his hand against your clothed core he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Answer me.”
His fingers slid underneath the black lace, slipping between your folds to gather the arousal and you gasped. He quickly pulled his fingers out, holding them in front of you, showing you just how wet you were.
His fingers gripped your cheeks harder. “I said, do you get off on hating me, Y/N?”
You nodded, his fingers pressing against your lips. You opened your mouth, licking your sweet arousal from his fingertips and he groaned at the sensation, hips bucking into you. You slid your tongue against them, sucking the digits as far as you could into your throat, spit travelling down onto his palm. He was panting over you, his hard cock straining against his shorts, pressing against your throbbing cunt.
It was all too much. Your face was burning up, body yearning for his touch. You hated him so much yet all you wanted was for him to take you for all you have, to leave you a whimpering mess.
As if he could read your thoughts, he pulled his soaking fingers from your mouth, eyes never leaving yours as he ran them down your bare chest, down to where you needed him most. He tore the thin black lace of your underwear out of the way and trailed his hand between your folds, circling your clit at a torturous pace, basking in the sounds that left your lips.
It felt like hell how slow he was being, riling you up, frustrating you even more than he usually did. You needed more and your hips bucked, begging for friction but he wouldn’t let up on the torture, smirking down at you.
“What do you need, hm?” He pouted.
”Fuck-“ you whined. “Please.”
”Please what?” His long inked fingers pressed against your entrance before retreating back to circle your clit.
”I need more, please.”
”Look at you begging like a needy little slut.” A sly grin danced across his lips as he finally pressed a slim finger inside you, the wet sound filling the quiet bus.
Your mouth gaped open, back arching when he curled his fingers into the spot that had your vision blurring. His cock twitched at the feeling of you clenching against his hand and he added another finger, fucking you fast exactly where you needed him.
You were on cloud nine, the feeling of his fingers inside you sending you into a frenzy of whines and moans. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it the way you did, it should’ve felt wrong, it shouldn’t have been happening at all with how much you fucking hated him but all you wanted to do was cum around his fingers.
His free hand moved to the back of your head, gathering your hair in his palm to force you to look at him. His eyes were pits of darkness and lust, pupils blown wide, staring at you like he wanted to devour you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers and he growled, pulling you into a filthy kiss. Your tongues slid around each other in an unholy dance of need and desperation.
You were close, the tightness in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to handle. Your moans were turning into incoherent rambling and you needed release.
”Fuck, I-I’m gonna, ah!” Before you could, he pulled his fingers from you, pushing his shorts down just enough to free his cock, achingly hard and leaking precum.
”Are you gonna show me how much you hate me and cum around my cock?” His hand in your hair gripped harder, making your eyes roll back as the tip of his cock slid between your folds, pressing against your clit.
“Please, please, I need it.” You whimpered.
”You fucking disgust me.” He gritted, pushing inside, filling you so perfectly.
Your eyes met his when he started to fuck into you, hard and fast, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, making your scream. It felt so good, you didn’t know how you would ever recover from him ruining you. You were so fucked out and cock drunk that you didn’t care about the noises that left you, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin and the wet sound of him rutting into your pussy.
He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head as leverage, cock sliding in and out of you so wonderfully. Once again that coil in your stomach pulled taught, threatening to snap. You clenched around him and he grunted, needing more of you. He pushed as deep as he could until you squealed in a heavenly mix of pain and pleasure.
“Do you hate me?” He growled, pressing his forehead against yours.
”So fucking much.” You whined.
”Tell me you hate me.” He was panting, so close to the edge.
His free hand slid between your bodies and found you clit, rubbing it quickly with his thrusts, making you see stars.
”Fuck! I hate you. I hate you. I hate y-“ with a scream you came around him, soaking him, legs rattling as you clutched his arms. You were completely out of your mind, fucked out, overstimulated as he fucked you through the best orgasm you had ever experienced.
Your walls pulsed around him, sending into his own climax, filling you to the brim with his cum, your name leaving his mouth like a mantra, a forbidden song.
You were both panting, catching your breath. Silence filled the bus when he pulled out, tucking himself back into his underwear while you lay there on the table, his cum dripping out of you. You heard him go into the bathroom to get tissue and to your surprise he cleaned you up, wiping away the mess he made.
There was an air of awkwardness when you redressed yourself, digging around for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that you threw on haphazardly. Noah was cleaning the table when you turned to him.
You cleared your throat. “I-uh, I’m going to find the others.”
Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
You nodded, turning to the door.
”Hey wait!” You span back around to see Noah approaching, pulling you into a searing kiss. He pulled back after a minute with furrowed eyebrows. “Don’t go home, yeah?”
You smirked, lifting you hand to brush his hair out of his face. “Remember that I still hate you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”
He pulled your lips back to his again.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
3 days later…
”Leave before I tear your fucking throat out.” You screamed, throwing a t-shirt at the smug brown eyed idiot.
”You should’ve got on that plane back home, I can’t fucking deal with this!” Noah stormed away.
”Don’t come back!” You yelled down the hall, stomping your feet towards the couch where Jolly and Bryan were sitting.
”I’m surprised you didn’t go. He’s not gonna change you know.” Jolly nudged your shoulder when you huffed.
“Why did you stay anyway?” Bryan asked.
”I can’t leave you guys short staffed, can I?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around their shoulders. “Anyway, I gotta go find Matt.” You stood up, picking up your phone on the way, smiling at the message on the screen. You sauntered out of the room.
”Do you think she’s fucking Noah?” Jolly questioned.
Bryan chuckled. “Totally.”
#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian#bad omens#bad omens cult#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian smut#bad omens fic
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WIP Wednesday (Even thought it's Saturday)
Thank you empressdede and @whatdoeseverybodywant for the tag. This has been sitting in my drafts since December. Enjoy!!
The Christmas Present
Jey's Annual Christmas Party
“There is nothing wrong with Sefa, take that back. Your being plan mean now,” I said offended as Tori one of the new divas was talking about him as he stood across the room totally unaware, or maybe he was, and he just didn’t give a shit what people thought of him.
He always moved in silence…Guarded and the halls always cleared when they saw him coming.
“Get real Eden, it has to be something wrong with him. He just stands there like a knot on a log and doesn’t say anything. I wonder does he show emotions when he has sex or is he like a robot,” she said as Trin interrupted her public undressing of the tribal heir.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with my brother-in-law, he just ain’t with the drama that ya’ll asses bring. Plus, he likes his women real, not surgically enhanced,” Trin said as I smiled at the offended look and Tori’s face before she stormed off.
“Damn tell her how you feel, Trin,” I laughed as she smiled.
“Girl, she mad because he won’t give her the time of day and he likes you,” Trin said winking at me as I shook my head at her before stealing a glance at the baby brother of the Fatu family.
I have to admit, I liked him too, but he was dangerous. They say the most dangerous man in the room is one that doesn’t know the power he has over others, and I don’t think he knows the power he truly has.
I was drawn to him, there was a sadness to him that just made me want to hold him.
The chaos of the Christmas party long forgotten as I saw him talk to his brothers for a few minutes before going upstairs.
“When are you going to tell him, you like him?’ Trin asked as I sipped on my champagne. “I’m not ready to date yet, Trin,” I said as she scoffed.
“Bullshit It’s been over a year, you need to have some fun,” she said as her thoughts echoed in my mind.
My last relationship had me leery on letting someone into my life again. It’s not every day your boyfriend cheats on you with your cousin. I’m not scared to admit that it fucked me up, but I am slowly working through it.
“I’m going to tell him Merry Christmas, then order me an uber,” I said as she smirked at me. “An uber? Girl, go upstairs and lay up under that man, stop playin’,” Trin said as I sighed.
“Uh, we are rarely home and I’m going to sleep in my own bed tonight, thank you very much. Plus, I’m sure Jey don’t want folks having sex in his house,” I said giving her a hug as she laughed.
“Aye, where my hug at?” Jey asked engulfing us both in his strong arms. “I really enjoyed the party boo, but I’m about to head out,” I said as he kissed my cheek.
“Head up and see lil bro before you leave. He’s in the spare bedroom, you know where it’s at,” he said as I gave him another hug before going upstairs. The music becoming fainter as I went to the other side of the house.
How do you tell someone you want them to rearrange your insides respectively without sounding desperate. Gently knocking on the door I leaned up against the frame, my hair flowing wild and free as I anxiously waited.
“Who is it?” He asked opening the door as I smiled trying to hide my nervousness. The shocked look on his face told me all I needed to know I made the right decision to come up to see him.
“Are you alone?” I asked as he nervously gulped but couldn’t resist being a smart ass. “Oh, I got a whole party going on in here, you don’t see all these people” he said smartly as I rolled my eyes “Always the smart ass,” I whispered as he cracked a smile.
“It’s always just me, you know that,” he said as I built up my nerve.
“Well, how would you like to have a real party for two?” I asked shyly as he opened the door wider allowing me inside as I put my coat on the dresser.
“I was just listening’ to some music on the tv to unwind,” he said clearing his throat going over to turn it off. “No, leave it on,” I whispered sitting down in the chair beside the bed as he turned it down a little and sat down on the bed.
“What happened you been avoiding me all night?” I asked truly wanting to know what was wrong. “I got some shit on my mind, I had to take the kids back to their mom and they didn’t want me to leave,” he said as I sympathized with him.
“I know it gets hard but it’s going to get better, I know it is. They know you love them and just keep making sure they know that.” Reaching over I rubbed his knee in support as he stoic expression never changed but he nodded.
“I just hate I won’t get to spend Christmas with them tomorrow, but I guess I should be thankful they got to open a few of their gifts from me tonight.”
“Maybe you should call her and see could you stop in and just be there for when they open their other gifts tomorrow,” I suggested as he sighed pulling out his phone texting his ex-wife.
I hoped she lets him do that, it’s bad enough she moved the kids back here to Pensacola without him knowing.
I saw a small smile pass his face as he got a text alert. “She said I could come in the morning to see them open their gifts, and eat breakfast with them,” he said as I smiled brightly at him, truly happy for him.
“I’m glad she changed her mind, I can’t even imagine being without my baby on Christmas,” I said as he grabbed my hand, causing me to blush.
“Enough about me though, how is Kason?” he asked as I smiled brightly at the mention of my son’s name. “He’s great, my mom has him for tonight. She thought I needed the break.”
“You do, I mean your like superwoman. You make sure all our schedules are good and constantly taking care of us all. Then you’re a mom to a very busy ten-month-old. Hell, when we leave the building, your night is just getting started,” he said as I tried not to smile.
He actually was taking notice and appreciative of my work and who I was as a person.
“Yea, it does but I’m just glad Joe talked them into getting me a bus so I can bring him on the road with me. I love how kid friendly the backstage atmosphere is now under Paul’s leadership.”
“Yea, he has that part down good. Now if only the gossip mill would stop wit they shit, maybe I could walk the halls and not be judged by people that don’t even know me,” his voice trailed off.
I knew he heard the whispers of our coworkers. They were afraid of him, they bought into the persona, but I knew better. He was shy and misunderstood but it was their loss and my gain.
“I wanna dance,” I said standing up and holding my hand out to him as his eyes seemed unsure. It was almost as if he wanted to look around to see if there was anyone else in the room with us.
“Uh, with me?” he asked as nodded, not trusting my voice. “It’s a lot that comes along with this and I know you ain’t ready,” Sefa whispered his eyes piercing my soul as I yearned for him.
“Stop worrying, I’m a big girl and I know what I want,” I said unashamed as he licked his lips. “Is that right? Well, tell me again what you want beautiful,” His deep voice awakening something within me that had been doormat for far too long.
“I want to dance with you…Right here…. Right now,” I declared as he stood up pulling me close, our foreheads touching as I caressed his face.
His nervousness making me almost shy, but I knew if this was going to happen tonight, I needed to take charge. “Sefa, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I whispered as his eyes found mine again.
Clearing his throat, I waited with bated breath for his answer. “I don’t wanna be alone tonight either,” he whispered nodding as I released the breath I was holding.
“I was hoping you would say that,” I said, my fingers playing with his beard as he caressed my hips.
Building up my courage, I tested the waters with a gentle kiss as a deep groan fell from his lips as we tasted each other.
Suddenly, Sefa pulled me closer, deepening our kiss making it even more impossible for me to gather my myself as he ravaged my mouth with his. My hands gripping the back of his shirt as I whimpered against his lips in pleasure.
His kisses, powerful and intentional as I weakened in his arms.
“Mm, Sefa”, I gasped as he released my lips. Shit, he can kiss, and he knew it by the sly smile that adorned his handsome face as we both caught our breaths.
“You sure?” he asked as I nodded, his hands caressing my face as he claimed my lips again.
“Mmm, tell me you want me and that I ain’t trippin’ right now,” he whispered, his passionate gaze making me fall even deeper under his spell.
“Yes, I want you,” I moaned as his thumb caressed my lower lip. “You want my head between your thighs eatin' that sweet pussy don’t you?”
His deep voice sending shivers down my spine as I purred in anticipation.
“Yes! Please Sefa,” I begged unashamed, yearning to be claimed as he licked his lips.
“You want all this dick up in dat pussy rearranging them tight walls don’t you?”
Fuck, he knew his power, and I was already under his spell, ready and willing as I whimpered against him unable to speak.
“Are you ready for all of me Eden, I can be a lot baby, but I promise you ain’t gon’ never forget me.”
I nodded, rendered powerless as his lips slowly descended upon mine, our kisses becoming deeper and more desperate by the second.
“Yes, take me,” I gasped finally finding my voice as we fell onto the bed. Our lips and hands exploring each other desperately. “You sure?” he whispered against my lips, as I nodded again.
“Let me here you, Eden. Do you want me?” he groaned, grabbing my hands pinning them above my head as he towered over me .
“I want you,” I moaned as a low growl fell from his lips. “I want you too,” he moaned claiming my lips again with urgency as I gasped at the intensity but welcomed it.
I was losing myself, losing myself in him and I loved it.
Whimpering against his mouth, he abruptly released my lips and let my hands go. “Why did you stop?” I panted trying to catch my breath as he searched my face for discomfort.
“I knew you weren’t ready for this; I’m moving too fast. Your scared of me, aren’t you?” he asked as I looked at him in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” I asked not getting how he gathered that conclusion.
“Look, I can take it alright, just tell me your scared of me like everybody els is," he said as I sat up beside him still trying to catch my breath.
“Scared of you? Boy, if anything I needed to breathe so I wouldn’t die on your ass,” I said as he looked at me in confusion.
“I’m serious Sefa, whether you know it or not, your very intense and I like it. It actually makes it hard for me to not lose myself around you,” I confessed as he searched my eyes for any deception in my words.
“I’m not scared of you Sefa, if I was, I wouldn’t have come up her,” I said reaching over and placing my hand on his knee.
“You sure you’re not scared? You would tell me, right?” he asked as I smiled at him.
“Now, if you would have asked me this last year, I would have said yes without a second thought. But, I know you now, and up under that tough enforcer attitude you’re a teddy bear,” I said getting up off the bed and going over to the table to fix me a shot of Tequilla.
“I couldn’t tell that you were scared, you chewed my ass out for not speaking to you the first time we ever talked,” he said as I laughed.
“Hell, its rude to not to say at least hello to someone when they speak to you.”
“A’ight you right, I was wrong,” he said as an idea popped into my head.
“Now, since we got that covered, how bout we get out of here and go to my house. I have a beautiful view of the beach and plenty of privacy,” I offered as he stood up slowly walking towards me.
“Going somewhere more private sounds perfect, I mean we don’t need everybody in our business,” he said as I nodded in agreement. Last thing any of us needed was the gossip mill in our business.
“I’m happy we’re on the same page, let’s get out of here.”
It was easy to sneak away as the party was in full swing, but Sefa shot Jey a text to let him know he was taking me home and would hit him up later.
The ride to my house at first was quiet but something shifted in the atmosphere as leaned over and playfully nipped at his neck as he drove.
“You playin’ a dangerous game Eden,” he growled as I smiled against his neck slowly reaching down, slipping my hands inside his sweats as he groaned.
“Mmhm, a big dangerous game at that and I can’t wait to play,” I whispered in his ear, as I slowly began to stroke him.
“Damn, you like playin’ with danger, don’t you?” he moaned as I smiled against his neck. His breathing became more ragged as his hands gripped the steering wheel.
“Yes, now eyes on the road, I got you,” I whispered as he groaned in appreciation. “Mm, shit… Well, go on then and do your thang.”
My mama ain’t raised no punk, so Sefa’s bout to get a preview of what’s to come. I just pray it don’t get us killed.
“Make the next right and go about two miles up the road, my house is the last one up on the hill,” I whispered in his ear as one of his hands caressed my thigh.
“I’mma tear dat pussy up, you know dat right,” he moaned. His deep voice echoing throughout the car and making me even wetter than I already was as I continued to stroke him.
“Yes, and I can’t wait,” I whispered as his grip on the wheel tightened. “Are we almost there?” he gasped as I smirked knowing he was close as I decided to talk him through it.
“You like my hands pleasing you, don’t you?” I asked as he nodded in concentration putting his other hand back on the wheel.
“Don’t hold back, I want you to let go,” I encouraged as he melted into me. “There is my house, turn in and park,” I said as he quickly pulled into my driveway, throwing the car in park and cutting it off.
"Now, keep your hands on the wheel,” I said as he turned, resting his forehead against mine, keeping his hands on the wheel as I continued to please him.
“Why did you come with me tonight?” I whispered, licking his lips as groaned catching my tongue between his lips as we shared a sloppy wet kiss.
“Mmm, you know why. Tell me why you wanted me to come?” he moaned, trying to regain control of the situation.
“I wanted you to devour this pussy,” I whispered as he moaned against my lips.
“Now you tell me why you came? Tell me Sefa,” I whispered, beginning to stroke him faster as he gasped.
“I wanted to have you all to myself and make you scream my fuckin’ name all night long,” he growled grasping my face and claiming my lips in a passionate kiss as he came.
His body trembling as he found his much-needed release. Looking handsome more than ever as he rode out his climax as I watched in awe.
Yea, he defiantly needed that, and I was happy to help.
“Damn Eden, that was-” he moaned caressing my face, not able to finish his sentence, I smiled.
“It was my pleasure,” I whispered tenderly kissing his lips.
“Now, let me see if you taste as good as you look right now,” I said as he watched me through heavy lids.
Slowly I leaned down, and licked his cum off of his stomach as he gasped in shock at my actions. Not leaving a single drop, I then slid back into my seat.
“Let me see Eden, open up beautiful.” Staring innocently at him, I opened my mouth and released my tongue for him to see.
“Fuck, dats what I’m talkin’ bout. Mmhm, now swallow dat shit,” he commanded as I did as he instructed.
“Mmm, you taste good,” I whispered licking my lips as he moaned. His powerful gaze awakening the woman within me.
“You askin’ for trouble,” he hissed as I smirked, before exiting the car as he readjusted himself back into his sweats.
Anxiously, I went to unlock the front door, before turning around to see if Sefa was behind me, but he was still sitting in the car in a daze.
“Stop overthinking Sefa, it’s no rules here,” I said going inside and heading upstairs, dropping articles of clothing along the way as I made my way to my room.
Hearing his footsteps, I sat down on the side of the bed, crossing my legs wearing only my black stilettos and a smile.
In all honesty I was scared to death, but excited if that made sense.
My heart began to race as Sefa appeared in the doorway in all his naked glory. My pussy drippin’ and throbbing in anticipation, knowing at any moment he was going to completely engulf me within his flame, and I couldn’t wait.
“I see your waiting for me like a good girl,” he whispered as I smiled holding out my hand to him as he came closer.
“I see you’re ready again,” I whispered looking at his throbbing erection as he smirked. “Oh, I stay ready and you betta be ready,” he said his voice making me wet as fuck as I moaned at his words.
“Come find out,” I whispered as he took my hand and smiled. “Are you sure?” he asked once again kneeling before me as I smiled.
“More than you’ll ever know,” I said as our lips met in another passionate kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Sefa.”
“Merry Christmas, Eden” he whispered easing me back onto the bed as I welcomed all of him. His hands caressing my body as raked my nails down his back in pleasure as he nibbled and sucked on my breasts.
“Let me see if you taste as good as I imagined,” he panted moving his kisses to my stomach as I gasped. Fuck, with how this man kisses I know he can give some bomb ass head.
“Are you gon’ give it all to me like a good girl?” Sefa asked dipping his tongue into my belly button as I moaned, running my fingers through his hair.
“Yes! I’mma give it all to you,” I moaned staring down at him in anticipation as he wore a mischievous smirk as my body trembled.
“Well, let me open up my first Christmas present then,” he whispered as his head disappeared between my thighs.
@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl
@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo
@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites
@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl @theninthwonder @mya2real @justazzi
@whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy
#solo sikoa fic#solo sikoa fanfiction#solo sikoa smut#solo sikoa#sefa fatu#solo sikoa x reader#wrestling fanfiction#wwe imagine#wwe smut#wwe fanfiction#wwe x reader#wwe x yn
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The Quiet One 6
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: have a good day.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.”
You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre.
“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.”
You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring.
“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet.
“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.”
“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...”
You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath.
“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak.
“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”
He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself.
“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do?
“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say...”
“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.”
“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.”
You don’t know how else to explain it.
He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.”
You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.
“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.”
You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark.
“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.”
You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is.
“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur.
“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.”
He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace.
Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold.
“Yum,” he purrs.
He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice.
He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white.
“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.”
You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do.
“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--”
“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.”
“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says.
He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up.
“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.”
He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him.
He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there.
“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.
“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown.
“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.”
Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why?
Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep.
You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there.
You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water.
You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet.
You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away.
“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest.
He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real.
Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done.
👄
You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess.
There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former.
You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned.
“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?”
You shrug and shake your head.
He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.”
Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.”
You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls.
“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.”
He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders.
“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...”
“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.
“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...”
“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying.
“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.”
He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way.
You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business.
You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough.
You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.
You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more.
You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up.
“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince.
You sniff, “sure.”
You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp.
Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs.
“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?”
You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself.
“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.”
You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent.
#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#the gray man#the quiet ones
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Man something about reading objectively terrible novels in a genre that you’re passionate about and want to make it into is simultaneously the most infuriating and reassuring thing in existence. Yeah, if this shit can get published so can I but how the fuck did this shit get published in the first place
#actually i know why white lightlark#*grits teeth* booktok… my utterly beloathed and yet i’m still filled with the hopeless desire to one day go viral somehow for my own series#i could always try honesty and say that it doesn’t have much of the fantasy romance tropes people go crazy for over there and is instead an#epic fantasy adventure with romance and also political intrigue and commentary on the side. that’s also an option i suppose#someone further motivate me to get this first draft done in the new year#writing#fantasy writing#i would put this in my wip tag but i don’t have one#i forget if i have a personal post tag or not
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hey yall!
soooo there is a situation with gracieispunk and i had a long time ago and with all this drama going on i felt like it was time to explain my side of things.
story under the cut
months ago (if you were on tumblr in september) i wanted to write a maintenance man joel x male reader but, since i started on wattpad i wanted to make sure i got gracie’s explicit consent before even writing it, around september i texted her, but she never responded.
it’s now october at this point and my friend tags me in a WIP game so i post my drafts and along with my drafts i post my maintenance man draft and at this point i couldn’t figure it the title for the of my fic so i just put “maintenance man — maintenance man!joel” and then i wanted to give me asking her another chance, so i went in here ask page and see if she was able down to talk.
she responded to my WIP and finally we got to talking
*here are the screenshots and proof that it was september that i first texted her in september, proof that she responded to my WIP game and then we talked
as you can see, she blocked me shortly after that, this is when i had a full blown panic attack and i had to call one of my best friends that helped calm me down and made me realize some things, but i couldn’t help but see if gracie had posted something about this situation, and she did.
but a couple days had passed since the situation (this happened in like a span of a week might i add) and a lot of people, whom i’ve talked about the situation with, has stated that people can’t own a character or anything and i made the conclusion that im still going to write maintenance man joel for the male audience, a whole different thing, inspiration and plagiarism are two different things!
the male community is tiny compared to the community that i don’t write for. i would understand if i was just stealing her idea, word for word, but that’s not me. at all.
i forgot to mention that a bunch of authors that i had looked up too, to come out of my shell in the writing world had blocked me, i don’t know what gracie told them, but all that i know is that a lot of authors blocked me, maybe they had their own reason, i don’t know.
but, all of this drama with basically putting small writers down, i would like to say i was one of them in a sense, where i literally almost quitted my future career. but im glad i told people about the situation and everything, because if i hadn’t, i possibly would’ve deleted tumblr and not made any of the friends/acquaintances that i have now.
so if you wanna hate me? go ahead. support me? i love you. shit on me? make me feel bad about myself? try it, i do it every day. i’m not posting this out of hate for no one at all, im just here to write and have a good time.

#support writers#sweetenerobert#gracieispunk#hate me or don't i don't care i just want to write#pedro pascal x male reader#joel miller x male reader#small writer
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five questions
a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!
word count: 5.1k
tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong
sorry, is this seat taken?
you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.
he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.
did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.
but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.
what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.
with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.
you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.
"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."
"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."
mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"
you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.
"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.
"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.
you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.
mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.
the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.
"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.
it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.
"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?
"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.
mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.
so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?
can you help me with this one?
turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.
"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.
mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.
which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.
your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.
you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.
besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.
which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.
it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.
for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.
but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.
"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.
you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.
"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.
"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.
"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.
"go on a date with me?"
your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.
"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.
"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.
"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.
"more than you realize, mark."
can i come inside?
the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.
your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.
so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.
"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.
and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.
not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.
mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.
which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.
because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.
so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.
in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.
"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.
"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.
"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.
for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.
"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.
"thanks."
you mean that?
mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.
and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.
and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.
he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.
but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together
it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.
not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.
one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.
mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.
that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.
but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.
one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.
mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.
really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.
"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.
"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."
mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"
"i mean it with my whole heart."
do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?
mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.
when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.
a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.
and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.
"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.
and that was the biggest room.
so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.
well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.
after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.
love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.
unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.
just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.
"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."
"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."
there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.
"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."
"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."
mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.
"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."
mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"
it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.
"i do."
and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.
#jnnul#nct dream fic#nct 127 fic#nct fluff#mark lee#nct headcanons#nct dream fluff#nct dream#nct#mark lee fic#mark fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 headcanons#nct dream headcanons#mark headcanons
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Love is Loving the Person For Who They Are
Heeyyyy...so after my rant, I pulled out this quick little one one-shot based on those feelings I had earlier. It’s not quite idea @xenon-demon had in their tags as that would be a full fic’s worth and I have so many WIPs running right now, so I don’t have time to do the full idea justice, but I hope this conveys my thoughts well enough.
***
Eddie walked into a disaster. He wasn’t even sure what was going if he was honest.
Steve’s clothes were strewn all over his room, with him sitting dejected on his bed in a black t-shirt, black acid washed jeans, and his white Nike’s.
Running around the room was Dustin, Nancy, and Robin all arguing on the top of their lungs what Steve should wear.
“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted them a lilt of confusion coloring his tone. “Wha’cha doing?”
The screaming match stopped and everyone turned to look at him in shock.
“Shit!” Nancy said. “Is it already that late?” She glanced at her watch. “Shit.”
“This is why you should have called us sooner,” Dustin said, rounding on Steve. “We would have been able to find you something acceptable before it was too late.”
“But I didn’t–” Steve protested.
“So we’re agreed,” Robin said interrupting, “the black slacks and jacket no shirt?”
But that only started the fight all over again.
Eddie tilted his head. “What’s wrong with what he’s currently wearing?”
Steve’s jaw dropped as everyone else turned to Eddie with such lightning speed that he was sure that they were going to get whiplash.
“It’s just normal,” Dustin said, smugly. “It’s not metal.”
“We don’t want him standing out,” Robin said. “He could get hurt.”
“Only,” Nancy said, glaring at Steve like it was all his fault, “he doesn’t have anything close to what you would wear.”
“Black jeans and band t-shirt?” Eddie asked confused. “I mean, yeah, he doesn’t have a Metallica or Dio shirt, but his shirt is what anyone else would wear to their first metal concert.”
“What?” Robin said, dumbly.
“No it isn’t,” Dustin said with a sneer. “When I went to my first concert I had all the right clothes and shit.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Who took you to a metal concert?”
Dustin shrugged. “That is not what is important here. I had a master teach me the ways before I went.”
Eddie tucked his chin to his chest. “Okay...I’m still not seeing how black jeans and t-shirt aren’t metal, though.”
Steve had been staring up at Eddie this whole time like he had hung the moon. He finally spoke. “I based my outfit off what Eddie wears all the time.”
Eddie beamed at him. “And you look amazing, Stevie. Now, I would have liked to have seen you in that tight navy blue polo personally. But needs must, I suppose.”
“His what?” Nancy asked, her eyes wide.
Eddie pursed his lips and began rooting around in the stacks of clothes. After a few moments he abruptly stood up. “Tada!”
Nancy and Robin looked at each other in shock.
“But that’s shirt he was wearing when Max gave us her letters,” Dustin said in confusion.
Eddie grinned. “Yeah, he looks hot in it.”
Steve blushed. “We should probably get going.”
Eddie nodded. “Come on, then.”
As the reached the bottom of the stairs the two men heard Robin exclaim, “Hey, did Eddie take the polo with him?!”
Steve looked over at Eddie, who sure enough still had the shirt.
“Oh,” he said, quietly. “If you forgot to put it back before we left you can just leave it on the side table by the front door. I’ll put it back when I get home.”
Eddie just smiled fondly as he sailed out the front door and to his van. He held the door open for Steve and Steve slid in. Eddie tossed him the shirt.
“I’ll leave up to you, darlin’,” he said, climbing into the driver’s side of the van, “which shirt you want to wear, but just know this: you don’t have to change your style for anyone. Least of all me. Because what our friends fail to realize is that I fell in love with the polo wearing prep Stevie. That’s the one I thought was taking out tonight.”
Steve rubbed the polo shirt between his two thumbs. “You mean that?”
Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Sure do, sweetheart. But I’ll get if you want to wear the t-shirt to the concert. But just so we’re clear on this, don’t think you have to change to fit me. Any part of me. If you start liking the same music I do, great! Just another thing we have in common. Just like when I said I enjoyed going to that baseball game with you.”
Steve blinked. “I thought you were bored.”
Eddie laughed. “I’m pretty sure that seventh inning stretch is for all the fans and not just newbies like me.”
Steve smiled for the first time since Eddie came to pick him up. “Fair enough, but you had fun?”
Eddie nodded, pulling out of the driveway. “Sure did. I can’t watch it on that terrible black and white TV that Uncle Wayne has, but going out and being with the other fans? That was fun.”
Steve’s smile grew bigger. “Just wait until you go to hockey match.”
Eddie’s face lit up with a feral grin. “I like the way you think, babe.”
Steve shucked off his t-shirt and pulled on the polo. Eddie glanced over at him, a fond smile on his face.
***
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Inspiration Saturday 📸
This wip is loosely based on this post of mine and based on the initial outline I expect it to total out around 20k, but I have like 3 much longer fics on my list before this, so it probably won't be written any time soon, but it wouldn't leave my mind today, so!
After a serious injury on the job, Eddie takes up light duty as the temporary Instagram Manager of the LAFD and even though he's now physically healed, he's still not ready to return to active duty. The job has its perks though; namely the new guy who joined the 118 shortly after Eddie left.
Tags and a longish snippet under the cut 💛
“Hey Diaz, sure you don’t want in on the action instead of playing around with your camera?” Buck asked, lifting his helmet a little, probably to see Eddie better in the harsh sunlight.
He had ash smudged all over his face, giving him a ragged edge that Eddie thought fit him just a little too well. His turnout coat was open, revealing just how tight his shirt hugged his body underneath.
“And what if I prefer the camera?” Eddie asked playfully. “And I told you to call me Eddie.”
“Not until you tell me what it’s short for.” Buck grinned at him teasingly and Eddie clicked the button on his camera again, to capture the way the sun hit his laugh lines; sue him, the man was gorgeous.
Buck had this weird thing for nicknames and though Eddie found it kind of endearing, he didn’t really understand why Buck didn’t just ask the team what his name was if he wanted to know so badly — maybe it was part of some kind of game that Eddie never learned the rules for.
“You know this year’s calendar is coming up.” Eddie said, lowering his camera back down to his chest.
“Yeah? Are you the one shooting it?” Buck stepped in closer, still holding the jaws of life in his hands while everyone continued packing up behind him.
“Why? Would that make you wanna do it more or less?”
Buck chuckled lightly, before swiping a gloved finger across the tip of his nose, leaving yet another black mark there.
“I don’t know. Am I gonna be the only one taking my clothes off?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and Eddie only had time to roll his eyes jovially before he was cut off by Hen.
“Stop riling up the poor guy and help us put these away, I’m starving!”
“I’m n-not rili—” Buck stammered, all his earlier bravado suddenly gone.
“Come on Buckaroo, it’s lunch time.” Chimney chimed in as well, walking past them and dropping his medkit into the back of the ambulance.
Buck looked back at Eddie and shrugged sheepishly. “Duty calls.”
“Yeah... I gotta upload these too.” He lifted his camera with a sigh, indicating the pictures he just took.
“Well, I hope you got my good side.” Buck smiled at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes and Eddie just grinned back at him.
As if you have a bad side, he thought to himself.
“Buck, come on!” This time it was Bobby who yelled over, so they both knew that they ran out of time.
“Coming!” Buck called back, still not taking his eyes off of Eddie. “Take care, Diaz.” He added gently before he finally turned around and jogged away, leaving Eddie standing in the middle of the road, watching as the engine and the ambulance pulled away.
“Yeah, you too, Buckley.” He mumbled to no one in particular.
I was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz and @watchyourbuck thank you mwuah 💛
✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @jamespearce9-1-1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins
#look I have like one new wip a day#these boys are doing things to me I can't put into words#also I have no idea what's with me and mini mood boards but I hope you're having a good time with them cuz I am lmao#also also I don't know why they can only talk in questions#😅#buddie#911#wip#the insta fic
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