#who made my life a little more bearable with their words
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Deck the Halls 🎻
Bale!Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader
A/N: This is the ultimate crossover, Bale!Bruce and Christmas, what more could you want??? I don't know quite how I feel about it mainly because I wrote most of it at 3 am lmao. Love-hate relationship, I guess. I hope you like it, anyway!
~Fi 🐝
Fi's Christmas Market ☃️
Warnings: implied angst?? Mention of his parents' death (very briefly), so much fluff omg, starring Alfred, Selina, and Lucius, Bruce is obsessed with you <3
Word count: 3.6k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
"A Gingerbread house contest?"
Bruce gave you a skeptical look as you explained your idea for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. You were sitting at the meeting table in the office of Wayne Enterprises, brain storming ideas to make this years Gala a little more interesting. The events were always quite boring, the only thing keeping your spirits up was the bar most of the time.
You'd occasionally hang around on the side lines with Alfred, people-watching Gothams wealth. This year had to be different. You were sick and tired of the fad and dragging evenings.
This was the Yule Ball, after all. The Manor would be decked in lights and ornaments, the lovely tunes of Christmas would echo through the halls and you'd actually have some fun for once.
Bruce would try to make them more bearable for you, inviting you to dance as much as he could, even if it earned him detesting looks. He wasn't a huge fan either, but it was his duty. He'd rather be curled up with you, feeling your warmth against his skin while doing your favorite festive activities.
Selina was seated next to you, twirling a pen between her fingers, looking like she was about to collapse from boredom. Alfred sat next to Bruce with a notepad, writing down any ideas that had come forth. Lucius was there too, of course, hoping to aid in any technical things.
"Yeah, why not? We need to do something interesting this year, and a making Gingerbread houses is a pretty classic activity, no?" You responded, shrugging slightly.
"I'll definitely come to the Ball if you pull through with that." Selina smirked. Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey? I mean, most of the people that attend aren't really ones to get their hands dirty."
"If I may, Master Bruce, I think it's a great idea." Alfred interrupted politely, making you smile. "I think it's important for the rich of Gotham to not lose touch with the average life. And, it'd be quite sweet, wouldn't it?"
Alfred grinned, proud of the pun he just made. You let put a small giggle while Selina and Lucius were smiling slightly. Bruce, on the other hand, sighed as his brows pulled together.
"Alright, so if we do this, who's going to be the judge?" He asked, finally caving in to your request.
"I knew you'd come around," you smiled, watching as a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, "I think it's pretty obvious. Alfred should judge the houses."
"Me? Miss, I'm flattered but I don't think I have the expertise to-"
"Nonesense, Alfie," Selina cut him off, "We've all seen what you can do in the kitchen. If anyone's going to judge anything, it should be you."
"I agree. He does make a mean Victoria Sponge." Luscius agreed, his reasoning strong enough to make Alfred ponder for a moment.
"It doesn't just have to be houses. We can just give them creative freedom, let them go at it." You suggested, earning nods of approval.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Selina mumbled, inhaling a sharp breath,"What if we make it a family event? Let them bring their kids. They'd probably be more open to the whole idea that way."
"Good thinking, Miss Kyle."
Bruce chewed on his lips as he thought. This would be very different than most years. His parents had started the tradition of a yearly Yule Ball, and he was afraid to make changes. But then he thought back to how his parents always tried to keep a somewhat humble life to be able to help the people in need more efficiently. Also, he could never say no to you.
"Okay. Why not. Even if they don't enjoy it, at least we'll have a good time." He smiled softly, looking at you. You almost beamed with excitment.
"We need a price too, right? What's the point of a contest without a price." Selina intervened. A silence fell over the room as everyone was thinking of what the price coule be.
"I say we give the winner an hour with Bruce's credit card and see how much damage they can do." You snorted, meaning it as a joke but when you weren't met with disagreement a surpirsed expression took over your face.
"Fine by me." Bruce shrugged. You forgot that he was a billionaire sometimes.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that but that just upped my determination by 100%." Selina grinned, making Bruce roll his eyes.
Bruce started talking to Lucius about the organizational aspects while you discreetly high fived Selina under the table. You'd talked about this idea before, your friend mostly finding it funny that the most esteemed people of Gotham would have to struggle with sprinkles and sticky icing.
She was quite impressed you pulled through, although that Bruce agreed wasn't a surprise to her. He'd do about anything you asked, which she sometimes used to her advantage.
"You truly have him wrapped around your finger, huh?" Selina mused, sending a sly smirk your way. You leaned back in your chair, inspecting the shimmering wedding band on your hand.
"Well, he wouldn't have put a ring on it if I hadn't." You grinned, making Selina shake her head with a chuckle.
"When do I need to be there to see Gotham get down and dirty?"
"December 25th, 8:00 pm, Wayne Manor."
"See ya then." The brunette gave you one last grin before taking her leave, claiming she had some 'business' to attend to. The so called 'business' would surely end up on the front page of the Gotham Gazette tomorrow morning. She was a great friend despite her passion for her illegal hobby. You couldn't really blame her, though. She'd grown up with nothing, and had to fight to survive.
You were the last one to complain if one of Gothams renowned business men mysteriously lost a couple of million dollars, which then appeared donated to a charity the next day. She'd never steal from you, or Bruce.
That's not to say she hadn't tried, but Selina did find that Martha's necklace suited you just a tad better than her. She had quite the soft spot for you, you weren't like the rest of the wealthy people she knew. You were honest, understanding and kind. Selina put a great amount of trust in you and she knew you'd never break it. If that meant having to put up with Bruce once in a while, so be it.
Alfred slipped into the seat next to you, Bruce and Luscius still discussing the guest list, when to send the invites, and to order all the necessary things for the contest.
"Truly a marvelous idea, Mrs. Wayne. He never dared to make any changes before you came along, you know?"
You turned you head towards him, a slight blush on your cheeks. Did you really have that much of an impact on him? To think that you were the one that made the Bruce Wayne soften and be more open to change made your heart swell with pride.
"Really? I thought he just never cared that much. For the Ball, I mean." You said, intrigued of what you were about to learn from Alfred about your beloved Husband.
"No, no, not at all. It was his favorite thing as a boy. What I'd do to see him happy like that again." The older man sighed, a melancholic tint in his eyes.
You smiled at the thought of Bruce being excited for Christmas. Just being a boy. You reckoned all of that changed after his parents' death. The warm and loving holiday was now left in gray dullness and the emptiness that he felt in his heart when he'd sit under the tree, all alone, yearning for a hug from his father and the gentle touch of his mothers lips on his cheek.
You were determined to fill that void, shower him in all your love until the gaping hole in his chest was fixed. Who knew if it was possible, but you were willing to give it your all.
"You will, I promise." You replied softly, gently placing your hand on his arm. Alfred gave you an appreciative smile, the sadness in his eyes wavering slightly. He softly padded your hand, resting it on it for a moment.
"You make him so happy already, though. I suppose I can't complain too much, can I?" He joked, making you laugh softly.
"I'm just loving him, that's all."
"That's all he needed." Alfred smiled softly.
Bruce glanced over to you, his heart pouding with pure love as he saw you laughing with Alfred. His two favorite people were getting along so well, it made unbridled joy bloom in his chest. You had changed his life, only for the better, you made him feel like a person again.
For years he'd been aimlessly wandering, hoping to find himself. He was lost in the dark, going through life pretending to be someone he wasn't. Or was he? He didn't know. But you were his guiding light, your gentle flicker lighting up his path. Your soft warmth getting him through many a cold night when the thoughts of self doubt and fear were gnawing at him.
All he needed was you pressed against his chest, your soft breathing like a sweet lullaby to him as you slept peacefully in his arms.
"Mister Wayne? Mister Wayne-" Lucius voice broke him out of his daydream, his back straightend and he cleared his throat, hoping no one caught him. You were still chatting on with Alfred, so you hadn't noticed, good. But when he looked over to Lucius, there was a knowing smirk on the man's face.
"Yes, Mr. Fox? Do you have the guest list ready?" Bruce questioned, fiddling with his fingers. He looked at Lucius expectantly, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.
"I don't blame you for staring. She fills the role of Mrs. Wayne perfectly." He answered, a gentle smile on his face. Bruce's shoulders immediately dropped, the tension fading away. He let out a small huff through his nose with a tight lipped smile.
"She does, doesn't she? It's like she was made for this. Made for me." He said quietly, the adoring look in his eyes as he admired you not being missed by the Inventor. Lucius placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"Why don't you spend the day together? I'll take care of everything." He said reassuringly.
Bruce's eyes widened slightly and he turned to face Lucius.
"Lucius-"
"No, I won't hear it. Go on, spend the day with her." He gave him chuckle before patting his back and gathering his things.
"We're done here, Mrs. Wayne. You can have your husband back." Lucius laughed, packing up the last of his documents. You giggled, which immediately set Bruce's heart aflame.
"How gracious of you, Mr. Fox." You teased, getting out of your chair, Alfred by your side.
"Let's go, my love. We have Christmas movies to watch and a dog to cuddle." You chirped, dragging him out of his chair.
All he could do was smile as he let himself be taken by you and wonder how he got this damn lucky.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You were now curled up on the couch, Bruce by your side, his arm draped around you. Your dog, Rudy, was snoozing on your lap as you scratched his head. The extra weight and warmth of your pup made it hard to keep your eyes open.
You were resting comfortably against Bruce, who traced gentle patterns on your arm as he was tentatively watching the TV. A smile tugged at your lips at Bruce's soft breaths, his strong chest falling and rising, lulling you to sleep. Your smile was cut off by a yawn. You lifted your hand from Rudy's head to cover your mouth, but he let out a whine, immediately nudging at your hand.
You chuckled groggily, trying to keep the sleep at bay so you could enjoy your moment with Bruce.
"'M sorry, buddy." You cooed, going back to petting your fur baby.
"You're tired, honey, I'll take over. Go to sleep." Bruce said softly in your ear, gently moving your hand and replacing it with his, making Rudy's tail wag slightly.
"S'your fault for being so warm and comfy and- you." You mumbled, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
"I mean, I can stop." He teased, taking his arm away from around you. You caught his wrist in a surprisingly tight grip.
"Do it and see what happens." You slurred, eyes still closed. Even in your sleepy state, you were still your feisty little self.
"Alright, I'd like to keep my arm, please." He laughed, wrapping his arm around you again, just a little tighter this time. You nuzzled closer to his side, making Rudy begrudgingly adjust his position as well.
"Are you excited for the Yule Ball?" You asked quietly, looking up at your husband as best as you could with sleep tugging at your limbs.
"I am. For the first time in a while, actually. Thanks to you." He replied with a soft smile, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose. A lopsided smile crept onto your face, and you stretched your neck a bit to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
"I love you." You mumbled before finally dozing off with a smile on your face.
"I love you too, honey." Bruce whispered gently, his lips pressed to the top of your head as he sunk into the couch.
He couldn't wait for the Ball. Something he loved so dearly that was tainted for him for many years was now coming back to him brighter than ever. All thanks to you, the lovely woman he chose to marry.
He'd marry you anew every single day if he could.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The day had finally come, and you were a nervous wreck. You really didn't want to mess this up. You had big shoes to fill; Martha Wayne was loved by Gotham, and now that you held the title of Mrs. Wayne, you didn't want to disappoint anyone.
Not the people of Gotham, not Martha, but most importantly, not him. You'd been running around like a headless chicken the entire day, double checking everything so nothing could go wrong.
The decorations were being set up, and you might've snapped at a poor worker for hanging one of the garlands a little too much to the right. You were stressed out of your mind, regretting ever suggesting this. Right now, you were checking if all the sheets of Gingerbread had arrived and if all the decorations were set up.
The gentle touch of Bruce's hand on your shoulder snapped you out of the frenzy in your head. He guided you to a quiet corner with a hand on the small of your back.
"Bruce, I have to get back to-"
He interrupted you with a firm kiss, cupping your cheeks.
"No. You're completely stressing yourself out, and we can't have that. I'll take care of everything. And now you need to take care of yourself. Take a bath, get ready, do whatever you need to do. Please, calm down. Everything will be perfect, I promise." He said it so softly you could feel all the anxiety and stress fall away.
You let out a deep breath as you leaned into his touch.
"Okay. Thank you." You sighed with a small smile.
"Good. You know very well that tiring you out is my job." He said lowly with a glint in his eyes. You huffed and playfully hit his arm.
"Go check on the sprinkles."
"Yes, Ma'am."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You did as he said, you took a bath to ease the tension in your muscles that had been building up throughout the day.
Now, you were sitting at your vanity, adding some final touches to your make-up. The guest would arrive soon, and you were glad the excitement took over the anxiety.
Bruce walked into your shared bedroom, fixing his cuffs.
"Are you almost ready?" He asked, not looking at you, still fiddling with his suit. You responded with a small 'Mhm!' and walked over to him, brushing some wrinkles out of your gown. When he did look at you, he visibly stopped in his tracks.
You were wearing a green velvet gown with lace accents, and he was completely enarmoured. When his gaze trailed upwards, he caught sight of his mothers necklace sitting around your neck. If you weren't already married, he'd would've proposed right now.
"You look stunning." He breathed out, hie pupils dilated. You chuckled softly, brushing your hand over the lapel of his jacket.
"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself." You teased, earning a small smirk from him. His hands settled in your waist. Bruce hastily pulled you in for a passionate kiss.
The air was knocked from your lungs as his lips moved so perfectly against yours. You melted into his touch but caught yourself before you'd do something that'd make you two very late.
"Alright," you breathed heavily, steadying your hands on his chest, "that's enough, Lover boy. We have a Ball to host."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
All the guests had arrived and Bruce stepped into the center of the room, beginning his welcoming speech.
"Welcome, Everyone, I'm very glad you could join us here today for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. This is a tradition that my parents started that I wish to keep on as long as I can."
"This year will be a little different. Courtesy of my lovely wife, Mrs. Wayne," he looked in your direction and reached out his hand for you to take with a gentle smile, which you did without hesitation,"there will be a gingerbread house contest. I see you've brought your little ones and I hope that this will be a pleasant and memorable evening for us all." He ended his speech with a soft smile.
"Feel free to take as much times as you desire. Everything you need is provided, so all you need now is your imagination and creativity." You spoke up.
"Your delicious creations will be judged and the winner gets a nice reward. I hope you have a lovely time and a Merry Christmas!"
There was a small round of applause before old and young scrambled towards the tables decked with gingerbread, sprinkles and icing, to begin their gingerbread builds. You participated too, you'd teamed up with Selina, who had been nursing a flute of champagne until now.
Bruce and Lucius decided to indulge as well, already planning out their engineered masterpiece.
"Let's show 'em our claws." Selina smiled slyly. The lights made her dark blue dress embroidered with sparkling stars stand out. She looked very good this evening.
And Bruce might've paid for that dress... unknowingly.
"You got it, kitty." You replied with a smirk.
You were going the classic route. It would be a house, but more of a whimsical cottage type. Vines if icing were woven around the gingerbread walls, blooming into blankets of Ivy. The roof would be decked in sweet snow and delicate sugar flowers.
Selina couldn't help but add a tiny cat hidden at the back of the house. The atmosphere was delightful, laughter and chatter whisked through the room accompanied by the tunes of Christmas songs.
The decorations that adorned the walls and ceilings of the Manor dipped the room in a warm glow. You decided to glance over at Bruce and Lucius, to see what they'd come up with. When your gaze met their creation the piping bag of icing slipped from your hands and your jaw slacked.
"They built the goddamn batmobile." You said in disbelief, making your partner perk up.
She scoffed and went back to, now aggressively, pushing small sugar decorations into the icing.
"Show offs." Selina grumbled.
Bruce noticed your staring and shot you a toothy grin.
"A sweet ride, don't you think?"
You groaned at his terrible joke and shook your head.
"Unbelievable." You muttered, going back to perfecting your little house.
The chattered had died down as the judging began. Everyone watched in anticipation as Alfred made his way through room, inspecting each Gingerbread sculpture carefully. He made some small comments here and there, mainly on the ones the children had made.
In the end, a little girl and her sister won- they'd built, or at least tried to, a castle. Alfred thought it was very charming, and it reminded him of home, so naturally, he picked them as winners. They were overjoyed, jumping around excitedly, gushing it about it to their parents.
The girls earned a round of applause, and an arm slipped around your waist.
"A shame we didn't win." Bruce sighed playfully.
"I can't believe you built the batmobile. I expected a lot, but not that." You laughed, the lights reflecting off of you perfectly. Or at least that's what Bruce thought.
"But it was fun, don't you think? Thank you, again, for agreeing." You said softly. Bruce smiled at you, and gentle squeezed at your side.
"Anything for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next year." He kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as you watched the joy and holiday cheer fill the room.
He truly couldn't wait for next year, to deck the halls with you by his side.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
It didn't turn out as Christmas-y as I wanted it to, but I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless! <3
#bumblebeesfromvenus#FI'S CHRISTMAS MARKET ☆#bale!bruce x reader#bale!bruce wayne#bale!bruce wayne x reader#bale!batman x reader#christian bale#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader
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love wins all (a roronoa zoro story, part 2) (smut)
tysm for your support on part 1 !! this story means a lot to me, i've had a lot of vision to write it etc. it's not proofread, and it's written by a tired lawyer who's been up for the past 15 hours because of a few cases. anyway, thanks for your support, and thank you for making my days so much more bearable. ilysm !! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
inspired by this song!!
@sanjisprincesswifey i know you liked the first part, so i'm dedicated it to you (i hope it doesn't suck lmao)
warning!! : nsfw (minor DNI), gender (female), mention of (Y/N), slight angst ? angry sex/cheating involved.
.・゜゜・ 1 hour before ・゜゜・．
Zoro’s years of superhuman training were a benefit here. His body was moving on its own, as fast as he could, barely paying attention to the people he was bumping into with his broad shoulders. Just like a race horse, he had blinkers preventing him from seeing the rejoice faces of the villagers preparing for the reception, dancing to the musicians’ plays on the streets and basically creating a path to the palace where the festivities were to take place.
These poor people don’t know what they’re talking about.
While he made his way closer to the palace, his mind was too busy thinking about the last words you two shared rather than thinking of an infiltration strategy. From the way your plumped lips traced thousands of “I love you” to the harsh “I hate you” they uttered when he took off, from the laughters they shared to the silent cry they failed to conceal. From the lewd sounds they let escape when his cock thrusted into your wet cunt, to the sensual moans they purred onto his lips.
For a second he felt his heart sink, and a weird feeling to his stomach. Was it anxiety because he was about to enter a restricted area? Mad, that you forgot about him so easily? Jealous, that another man, and a ridiculous one he thought, got to spend the rest of his life by your side? Sick, that a man that is not him, was to touch you in ways only he could?
He couldn’t pinpoint the right word for what he was feeling, and he frankly did not care. His goal was set, and it was to enter that palace and get to you. How would he achieve that was apparently not an important matter to him, because he just barged in, breaking through the guards with undiscovered strength, not giving a damn about the consequences.
I’m sorry guys, we’ll have some mess to clean up before tasting the banquet.
His ears almost failed to hear the guards crying for help and threatening to call the Marines, as he climbed all the stairs he found at once, his heart knowing that at the top, they led to you.
And it did.
.・゜゜・3 minutes left・゜゜・．
Zoro was facing a long corridor with a large room down the hall. The doors were slightly opened, as if he was awaited all along. Even though he knew he probably was not the person you wished to see, he still felt like the small light peering through the doors was a way to your heart. Like there was hope.
His pace slowed as he approached your doors, and his hand lingered on the door before slowly pushing it open, his good eye widening at the sight he was bestowed with.
There you were, in all your glory, your back facing the door as you looked at yourself in the huge mirror standing in front of you, gently trying out earrings that would complement your hairstyle of the day. The white dress you were wearing hugged your curves perfectly. The corset on top carved the shape of your waist, only for it to enhance the curves of your ass. The silk material left little to the imagination, and he could stay watching forever. He swore he could smell your perfume from here, already enamoring him much more. He could see the glistening of your skin as the so-short sleeves of your dress lovingly fell off your shoulders.
You were a mythology goddess. A legend, only for him to see.
And he had a chance to conquer.
・゜゜・00・゜゜・．
« So I guess my invitation got lost in the mail? » you heard the hoarse voice speaking through the opened door of your quarters. You kept on looking at yourself in the magnificent mirror standing in front of you, looking at how the white dress hugged your form, pretending not to have heard the said voice, ignoring the immediate chills it sent down your spine. You knew who these words belonged to, and so did your racing heartbeat.
You slowly reached down to the table by your side to pick another pair of earing to try out, letting Zoro enter as you calmly and sternly responded.
“The only thing that appears to have lost itself here, is you.”
Zoro scoffed as he fully entered your quarters, closing the door behind him as he stands, looking at you intently. Gosh, you were even more beautiful than in his memories. The way your hair fell so beautifully around your face. He missed your comebacks, your confidence, the way your brain seemed to understand his better than anyone else, better than he knew his own.
He slowly walked behind you, so close that you could feel his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. He only looked at you through the mirror in front of you, feeling like, at some point, this would help him keep his façade. He bore his poker and stern face while taking in your presence.
Gosh, how he wanted to pin you to that mirror and kiss you until your lips turn bloody red from how much he would bite them.
“Looking great here. Nice big ring too.” he said, the hot breath of his lips tickling your ear.
It was hard for you to ignore how fast your heart was beating, and the tension between the two of you. It was electric, deep, high. You hated the effect he had on you, how he would always manage to have you wrapped around his finger. How he could make you kneel in front of him, happily opening your mouth to welcome his hot length. How he could make you melt from the simplest of words.
How he could break your facade, break your heart and confidence under a minute.
Your eyes met through the mirror, and that’s when you noticed his new scar. It hurt, knowing that you did not have the opportunity to mend his wounds and see his progress.
“I can’t say the same for you.” You lied, breaking the eye contact by focusing on removing the earrings you had just put on.
Zoro laughed, never looking away. He agreed: beside you, he looked like a picturesque character. You were the epitome of beauty, an ethereal image. If he were Sanji, he would have probably died on the spot.
Your eyes met again.
“You could have told me you were getting married. I had the right to-“
“How dare you?” you cut him mid-sentence, turning around to face him. His new built caught you off guard, but you didn’t let that stop you from finally, cutting the air.
“Zoro you better not finish that sentence. You have no right whatsoever to know a thing about my life. Not after what you did.” You explained, clear annoyance and a hint of hurt in your voice.
“Oh, is that how it is? How it’s going to be, (Y/N)? Of course you should have told me ! How dare you not tell me?” Zoro responded, mad, stubborn, scratched. “You can’t just get married, with this creep, and believe that I don’t have MY say in this? Or are you stupid?!” he continued, not noticing he started yelling.
You slightly pushed him away to get behind him, clearly needing the space. And he was surprised he let you push him, following your movements, wondering what your dress would feel like under his touch. He stared at your dress, your bosom and the way the corset enhanced the roundness of your boobs.
He wanted to eat them out right now and tear this corset apart.
“Oh you’re the stupid one here! Zoro you cannot expect me to tell you a thing about my love life, or anything about my life for that matter, when you walked away, in the middle of the night, saying your dream was more important, right after making love to me, and leaving to the sea without as much as a note?!” you stated, yelling the last words.
“It was not the right time for us and you know it! Come on, don’t act like I forced my decision on you. You know it was the best choice.”
“I beg your pardon?” you asked, walking closer to him, closing the distance between the two of you to state your thoughts loud and clear. You shook your head, gathering your thoughts after Zoro’s unreasonable rambling.
“Let me ask you. What do you call someone leaving in the middle of the night, saying how his dream is more important than the night he just spent with who he called to be the love of his life, while the later cried her heart out? Do you call that a consensual decision? A mature talk? Enlighten me, Roronoa Zoro. Please, enlighten me.”
Zoro just dived into your eyes at your words. Enlighten me. The words echoed in his ears, and for a couple of seconds his brain just stopped working. Noticing his lack of response, you sighed, trying to walk past him to finally put your veil on.
But this time, he did not let you past him.
Zoro grabbed your hips and looked into your eyes before diving in and kiss you. The taste of his lips surprised you, they seemed more mature, but still as soft as they were that night. With Zoro invading your space, it was hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to resist breaking the tension lingering after all these years. Before he could slide his tongue pass your lips, you pulled back, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, whispering, afraid the universe might hear you;
“What are you doing?”
“Enlightening you.” he whispered with a smirk, his breath tickling your lips.
And these words were enough to send all senses of hurt, bitterness and ache to hell. You let him kiss you, putting your hands on his arms as he kept a firm grip on your hips. He kissed you hard, feral. His tongue parted your lips, twirling around yours as he let out a deep groan. He has been waiting for this for years, and feeling your lips respond to his sent him to heaven. He could not help but let his hands glide to your ass and give it a light squeeze, making you yelp. Your reaction made him laugh, a small, intimate laugh only you could hear.
You slowly pulled away to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to tell you what he really meant to say before rambling the selfish nonsense he let out.
“Don’t marry him. Come with me.” He whispered, his lips meeting the side of your neck, using his tongue to tickle the soft spots he never forgot: your submaxillary triangle, your trapezius.
“What are you talking about?” you responded, still a little out of breath, and mostly, distracted by his shenanigans.
“You got me baby, loud and clear.”
The dress started to bother him, and he took the opportunity to tear the bottom to the side, creating a slit on your left leg, taking advantage of it to massage your thighs and groping your ass once more, with more force and determination. He tapped your ass, a small gesture to wrap your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the mirror.
And when your legs tightened around his waist, he knew your answer.
And so he did not waste any time anymore. He massaged your breasts through the corset of your white dress, admiring how your boobs threatened to escape only for him to lick at your buds, cupping them in between his large hands. Your hands fell into his mossy green hair, slightly pulling on the ends as his tongue danced around your clavicles.
Being the skillful swordsman he is, and having experience with his mouth and hands, his left hand went under your dress, thanks to the slit he made, so he could play with your clothed cunt, feeling its wetness forming. There are so much things he wished to say at that moment, but the way his erection irritated his pants kept him from uttering the slightest of word. And knowing him like the back of your hand, you let out a small laugh.
“Are your pants too small to contain your little friend here?”
“If you call it little then I really should jog your memory.”
With that, he pushed you against the cold mirror surface a little harder so he could unzip his pants, letting his length sprung free against the white silk.
“Be careful, you might tarnish it you idiot!”
“Like you and I care.” he proudly stated, sliding his hand under your dress and pushing his index into your cunt, while rubbing circle on your clit. He never took his eyes off you, appreciating every little of your reactions, bearing your face into his memory.
“Gosh, I missed the feeling of your pussy around my fingers, you know that right?” he desperately uttered, feeling his already hard cock getting harder. “Gosh (Y/N), I missed everything about you.” he added, pumping harder, adding another finger into your pussy, your moans getting louder and lewder.
“And I missed the feeling of your cock, Zo’..” you whimpered, a dark light sparkling in his eye as he heard your plea.
“Well you won’t miss it anymore sweatheart.” he said, removing his fingers out of your cunt and pushing up your dress some more, so he could set your white lace panty aside and slide into you.
“Hmmpf!” you whimpered in extasy, the simple feeling of his cock stretching your tight cunt already answering your needs. He waited for you to adjust and looked at you, his eyes pleading for consent. Once you nodded and gave him a soft, intimate smile, Zoro started pounding into you at a feral pace. His nails dug into your thighs and ass as he held you tight, pumping his thick cock into your warmth. You threw your head back on the cold mirror surface as you tried to keep some sense into you, tears forming in your eyes from how passionate your partner was.
“G-Gosh (Y/N), you’re still taking me so well… completely m-made for me..” Zoro managed to say, as he could feel your pussy tightening around his shaft. This felt so real, so much better than in his memories.
“Please k-keep going!” you plead, only for him to hold you tighter, spanking your ass in the process.
“I’ll k-keep only if you answer my question.” He said, slowing his thrusts, going excruciatingly slow, torturing the both of you.
But he needed to know.
“Are you coming with me to the sea?”
He stared into your eyes for as long as he could, trying to determine what went on in your head.
“Zoro..”
He thrusted hard into you, looking at you again.
“Answer me.”
He thrusted harder, his eye never leaving your beautiful face.
“I..”
He thrusted harder, so hard you swore you could feel it in your guts.
“(Y/N). You love me. I love you. Come with me.”
“Y-Yes for God’s sake I’ll c-come with you!” you cried, only for him to smile in pride and thrust into you without anything as a break. He felt ecstatic and tried his best hiding his smile into your neck, giving it sloppy kisses before giving you one more passionate kiss as you both came together, your dress a total mess, both your bodies a sweaty mess, but a loving one at best.
He looked at you and saw the smile he waited to see for so long. He gently put your legs to the ground as he looked through his pocket.
“Don’t tell me you’re looking for a condom now that we’re just done” you muttered, earning an eye-roll from the swordman.
“I’m looking for the ring I got you, dumbass.” he bluntly stated, pulling the ring out of his pocket before putting it in your hands.
“Let me take off this ugly ass ring so I can give you mine.” He said and you let him have his way, gently laughing at his usual stubbornness. He slid his ring on your finger with a prideful and loving look, trying to conceal his blush by looking away.
“So, what’s the plan now Zo?” you asked, gazing into his good eye with more love than you thought ever existed.
“There’s none. We’ve got all the time in the world.” he responded, kissing your left hand before he heard a familiar ruckus down the hall, curtesy of his captain.
“I promise you’ll get used to it.” he shyly said as he held your hand tight, definitely not letting go, love wins all, after all.
#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece imagine#one piece headcanon#opla x reader#one piece smut#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro smut#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#zoro roronoa x you
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spin worlds - joel miller x reader oneshot
masterlist
summary: strings attached are easy enough to ignore when you're only trying to survive. when joel gets hurt, the world stops spinning, and you realize that you matter more to each other than you ever let yourselves believe.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, post outbreak!joel, boston!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, non-established relationship, set a few years before tlou hbo, hurt/comfort, non-gratuitous descriptions of a wound, hurt!joel, unprotected piv, fingering, end of the world sex, rough!joel, heavy on the petnames, drug/alcohol use, lots of feelings, its boston QZ joel so, angst with a happy ending, angst with fluff
words: 3.6k
a/n: is this what i really think the people want? maybe! is this what I want? absolutely yes!!!!!!!!!
-
Hundreds of nights spent with Joel since you’d been in Boston. Thousands of hours, words spoken to each other, yearning to stay in his arms longer and say more.
The time you had with each other used to feel fleeting. Always after dark, sneaking around the QZ like you were teenagers together. It was a strictly private thing. It was almost like the two of you kept it a secret to feel a kind of thrill again, something from a past life, as if there was still right and wrong in the world and a little bit of something wrong was all you had left.
That thrill wore off eventually, and you were with Joel for more than just the adrenaline hit. He made things more bearable and cut you deeper all at the same time.
Flattened on his bed for yet another night, you got the feeling that something was bothering him.
The sensation of cotton sheets was rough against your skin, acting as a futile means to abate the cold that was swirling through the apartment and raising the hairs on your arms. Your view was of his back, and the long, jagged scar that ran close to his spine. You reached your hand out to touch him and he flinched away.
“‘M goin’ out tomorrow. Without you,” he said, before you even had to ask. “Too many close calls lately.”
His voice was quiet and rough, sore from the dry air. You tried your luck at smoothing a hand across his shoulder, and this time he let himself lean into it.
“Doesn’t seem like that means you should go alone.” You pressed a kiss against his shoulder blade.
He turned his head to the side, not far enough to look you in the eye but far enough to confirm that you were there and not some twisted hallucination that he had dreamed up. “I’ll come back fine. I always do.”
Joel had this talent of convincing others that his word was his bond. He hardly had to try. When he spoke, it was like everyone sensed that they were in the presence of a kind of profit, and that he was privy to some knowledge or confidence that could keep people alive.
It didn’t help that he seemed to hold all of the knowledge in the world– knowledge about the important things. He could fix the leaky faucet in your bathroom blindfolded. Always knew what direction he was going in. Knew how to tie a million useless knots. Could look up to the night sky and point to Polaris like he was pointing to a map of Austin, showing you his old favorite diner that he went to every Saturday. I’ll come back fine. I always do.
But Joel didn’t know anything. You’d been close enough to see that. He was just as frightened as you. But now more than ever, you wanted to trust him. Turn your back and fall, bet on the fact that he would stop the world from spinning to be there in time to catch you.
Perhaps you were too easy, too willing to take what he gave. It was still heaven. Heaven, in a crumbling apartment building, sometimes with your restless mind placated by downers, draped across his silhouette. Sometimes you wondered, between the two of you, who deserved this life less. When you thought about it for too long, the answer was always Joel.
“Who are you meeting?”
He rubbed his palm against his forehead in slow circles. “One of my guys. Said he wasn’t gonna smuggle into the QZ anymore, son of a bitch.”
You only hummed in response, working your thumb into the knot in his shoulder. “And you trust him?”
“No.” He turned fully this time, his big hands roaming to the small of your waist and his lips to your jawline. “Sure as fuckin’ hell not enough to bring you out there this time.”
You grinned and smoothed his hair back off his forehead when he looked at you again. “Don’t have any faith in me, Miller?”
“You know that ain’t it, baby doll,” he whispered. “Don’t wanna take any chances with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You laughed as he pulled you up onto his lap, looking deep in thought as he deliberated over where to plant kisses across your face and neck. “As if you’re ever careful with me.”
“I could be,” he said. “If you wanted.”
“Mmh, I don’t think I do.”
You looped your arms around his neck and he took your face fully into his hands. You felt almost engulfed as he kissed you. There was a fire blazing between you, and it felt like your clothes had melted away rather than been taken off with how quickly they disappeared. Your skin buzzed with desire, blood flowing to your most sensitive points. You felt limp like putty, lying in wait to be sculpted with the rough smearing of his hands across your body.
He was unrestrained in the way that he removed your roaming hands and pinned both arms above your head against the bed. “Y’think this isn’t gentle, princess? Yeah, let me show you rough.”
He split your legs apart, hand traveling to your warmed and wet entrance like a magnet. Three of his fingers were pumping short rhythms into you before you could even breathe, and your vision nearly went white. You writhed, helpless to the desperate moaning that was slipping past your lips until Joel pressed his hand against your mouth.
It all hurt so good. The sparking pleasure came and went so quickly with his movements that it felt like a continuous wave of ecstasy, even if he was stretching you close to your limit.
He wouldn’t stop murmuring things in your ear throughout. “Think I’m gonna let you out there? Get you hurt? No, baby. I only hurt you ‘cause y’let me. Don’t you, hm? Can’t have you screaming, not with the neighbors.”
Despite his best efforts, he was only muffling the litany of sounds that you were producing as he finger fucked you raw.
After he could tell that he had brought you close to your tipping point, rough hands grabbed your waist and forced you to flip over. He pulled you up on your knees, and he turned your head to the side before forcing it down against the bed.
With one hand he fumbled with his belt, cursing in desperation as he struggled with it for a few moments. He went silent for a beat before white hot pleasure shot through your, and all you could hear was the rough slapping of your bare bodies connecting with each other.
He was not gentle. It was clear that his pace and frequent position changes were to fulfill only his desires, and your own intense satisfaction was just a byproduct. You couldn’t complain. In fact, it would be foolish to complain. If this is what he was offering, then you would take all that he would give.
He came quickly. He always did on nights like these, when you had given him some sort of permission to just use you for a while. You stared out to your left, looking for Orion in the cluster of stars outside his apartment’s window. You felt warm liquid spill into you and begin to drip onto your thighs as he continued thrusting. Tears blurred your vision as you followed suit, unraveling into a perfect little mess beneath him.
“Knew you could take it, honey. You feel okay?”
“Mhm,” you said in a high-pitched tone, biting back tears as he sat you up.
He gathered your naked form into his arms and held you there for a while. He kissed the top of your head, and you wished you could’ve watched the starlight reflecting in his eyes for a little while longer.
“C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up. Shower,” he said, more of a command than anything.
You followed his directions without responding. It wasn’t him that hurt you, not really. It wasn’t the vulnerability that stung you too deep. It was just the reminder that your relationship with Joel was far from merciful, cut from desperation and an utter decimation of the people you used to be. In another life, you knew that this wasn’t the way you could’ve loved each other.
After a luke-warm shower and a poor attempt of washing yourself clean of sin, you sat at the kitchen table in nothing but one of Joel’s denim flannels. Your hair was heavy and wet with water, leaving dark blue trails down the back of the button-up.
He smoothed an errant strand back from your forehead as he sat in the chair across from you, pouring whiskey from his decanter into two glasses. You suspected he had been drinking before you came over, but you never said anything.
You took a long drink before speaking. “When’re you planning on leaving?”
“Early.” You watched him pop a few white pills in his mouth and down the entirety of his glass. “Back before dark.”
“Could’ve just used water,” you mused. “Do you want me here when you get back?”
He looked over at you fully, that lazy smile and those sweltering brown eyes. “Hard times, darlin’. Hard times.” He removed his gaze to shake a couple more pills out of the cloudy plastic bag, leaning over the table to drop them next to your half-empty cup. “And yeah, I do. Stay.”
You stared blankly at what was in front of you, shaking your head. “Let me come, Joel.”
“You can’t negotiate with me on this. It’s a hard no.”
“Just don’t be an idiot. Please,” you bargained. “This doesn’t feel right.”
You watched him stand and walk over to you, resting a large hand on your upper back. “I’ll be back before dark,” he said again.
You looked up at him. “And if not?”
“I’ll be back.” He leaned down to kiss your temple. “I will be.”
You nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“Good,” he all but whispered. “Good, that’s all I want.”
-
True to his word, Joel was out early.
Doubly true, with blood and sweat dripping from his hairline and into his eyes, Joel dragged himself forward as the sun set over the harbor.
November in Boston. Brutal, wintery wind whipped past his face and stung the open wounds that had been hashed into his skin. His vision swam, and he brought his sleeve up to his head again to try and stop some of the bleeding coming from the left side of his head.
You were right. Always right about nearly everything, you were. It was a trap. Maybe he could’ve taken the three guys that met him at the deal site if you had been there too, but he razed each one alone and hardly made it out alive.
You. He would’ve stopped a few miles ago if it weren’t for you. In the moment he could’ve cursed your name and damned you to hell for what you drove him to do. He could’ve sat on the curb, rested his aching back against that old lamppost with moss and flora to cushion his injured head. Shut his eyes and die already, a death that would’ve been so easy, one that he begged for a million times.
You. He stared up to the sky, praying to something that his directions were right as his eyes landed on the north star. A mile or two east, and he’d be at the QZ. His blurred vision made the light astigmatic, so he could only hope.
The pistol in his back pocket felt red hot as he stumbled eastward. The only force driving him forward was the thought of putting a bullet through the head of anyone that touched you.
This was his fault, afterall. He should’ve taken someone. Maybe it was your fault then, for mattering so much to him that nothing could bring him to put you in even the slightest bit of danger. No, none of it was your fault. Nothing was. You deserved a whole world that Joel couldn’t give you.
He’d get to you. He would.
-
Making good on his promise, you woke up cold in his empty bed.
You could’ve sworn you saw your own breath freeze in the air, through sunlight that shone through the infinite planes of the apartment. You reached a bare arm up towards the ceiling, trying to catch some of the warmth that it gave.
You had an entire day of work ahead of you, likely doing maintenance on the water system or making house calls to troubleshoot issues with the electricity. Life here had made you more useful and skilled than you had ever been before, and sometimes work felt like a welcome distraction.
You got yourself up and dressed, picking up around his place before you made it out the door. The discarded pills on the kitchen table swirled down the sink along with yesterday morning’s coffee.
You knew how to take care of yourself more than he did. You weren’t sure why Joel fought you so hard on some things.
On the return trip to his apartment far past dinner time, you were smeared with dried sweat and soot. Your eyes passed the stars, and you repeated a silent prayer to yourself that Joel had already beat you home.
Scaling the stairs to the third floor, you saw that fate had cruelly twisted your own wishes.
“... My fucking god, J– what happened? Hey, hey, look up at me, please–”
You were crouched before Joel’s slumped figure, barely aware enough to respond to your voice or your touch. His flannel shirt was torn, exposing a bloodied white undershirt rising and falling along with his rapid breathing.
He had a hand almost glued to this side of his head, stained with dried blood. He made a strained groaning noise as you pried it away to reveal a nasty gash to the area. You could’ve screamed yourself at the mere sight of the state he was in.
It was clear that he only had the strength to drag himself to his own front door because you had been idiotic to lock it before you’d left that morning. A stupid force of habit left over from a lifetime where locked doors and tidied apartments actually mattered.
“Don’t… don’t, m’hurt, just…” his voice trailed off as his glassy gaze passed over your face. He was still trying to catalog you, ensure that you were still in one piece even while he was in stitches.
“I know, I know… you have to get up with me, Joel. Give me something here, fucking hell– on three, okay?”
You managed to get him to his feet as you jammed the key into the door and shoved it open. You were shouldering most of his body weight as you helped him to the first available chair at the kitchen table. Aside from his head, there was no other major injury to his body– it was mostly fine grazes and blossoming bruises on his chest and arms. You filled a glass with water and poured it over the wound on the left hemisphere of his head, trying to clear away some of the dried blood that had matted down his curls.
He writhed in his seat and you tried to soothe him with gentle words and touch as often as you could. It was deep, as if he’d been hit with something dull, but not deep enough to be fatal itself. You exhaled at that conclusion and begged to the ceiling that you were correct about it.
You sterilized the area with whiskey poured onto a kitchen rag and bit your lip as Joel hissed and swore in response. You made him hold the cloth there as you scavenged the apartment for something, anything that could be considered proper to wrap the area with.
“Bad deal… it went bad, baby, I tried… thought they were gonna hurt you here…” he mumbled to you once you returned with a t-shirt you had begun to shred into ribbons.
“Hurt me? I’m fine, and god, you aren’t. I’m fine. Nobody’s gonna hurt me. Us,” you added quietly, slowly removing his hand from his head again.
“Mkay… ow, you’re killin’ me, darlin’, s’fine, you don’t gotta do all that,” he said weakly.
You said nothing as you tried wrapping the makeshift gauze tightly enough to still apply pressure around his head. Realistically, he needed stitches, or at the very least some sort of proper medical assessment. Curfew had already passed and doctors were few and far between to begin with, so you could only hope that this would be enough to stop the bleeding. Keep him awake and alive.
When you were finished, you slumped down in the chair next to him, your hand still gripping tightly onto his shoulder. “What’s your birthday?”
“Why’re you–”
“–Answer me, Joel, I swear to god–”
He squeezed your hand limply. “September 26th. It’s November now, ‘18, I think? What, you want me to say my ABC’s too, or…”
Your laugh cut him off, shaky and very nearly turning into a sob. “I hate you. I hate you so much, you know that? I told you not to be an idiot, and you…” your voice trailed off, and he took both of your hands into his.
“I know. Hate you too, baby… can’t believe you patched me up.”
You couldn’t believe it either, or the fact that he cared enough about you to drag himself from the city back to the QZ out of fear that whoever had hurt him was going to hurt you, too. If that wasn’t the closest thing to love you’d ever been shown, you didn’t know what was.
He slept very carefully in your arms for a few hours that night, after you had gently washed the rest of his body and cleaned some more of the noticeable wounds. You couldn’t sleep at all, kept awake by a compulsion to check the bleeding on his head and make sure that he was still breathing through all of it.
Despite it all, the two of you didn’t feel fragile. Something unspoken was heavy in the air, something that said you both cared for each other so deeply that no circumstance could stop you from taking care of each other. Joel would do it for you, too. In the meantime, you were glad he didn’t have to.
-
In the morning Joel explained how he’d been jumped by his supplier and a few of his friends, and how he’d lost both the ammunition he was trading and the opiates and cigarettes. You thought that was a small price to pay for escaping with his life, but his stubbornness fought you on that point.
You paid a sort of friend of yours– a former nurse– all of your ration cards from the last week to stitch up his head the following afternoon, much to Joel’s utter dismay and protest.
“It’s already done. I already paid,” you had told him, staring into his eyes with a hand cupped to his cheek. “Please just let him. Please.”
For you, your words said. For you, I would.
He said nothing, but he sat for the few minutes of what must’ve white-knuckling pain to let the wound be sewn shut. I would, too, he echoed back. For you. You held his hand through it, even if that comfort was more for you than it was for him.
You forced him to just rest with you for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that the expired antibiotics you had been saving would nip the traces of the fever he had started to run. If that didn’t work, you promised him you would look for something that did.
Staring up at you in bed, he tucked your hair behind your ears and looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. “You didn’t have to do all this, y’know. It was my own fault.”
“I did, though,” you replied as you smoothed your thumb across his cheek. “I couldn’t do all of this without you.”
He cracked a smile. “Don’t flatter me just ‘cause I’m dyin’ over here. You’re better than me at ‘all of this’.”
You had hoped that your effort to keep him alive would’ve told him that you did in fact need him, almost more than anything, but in the moment it was fine. You would show him a million times over if that's what it took.
Instead, you rolled your eyes. “You aren’t dying. Don’t be an asshole. I do need you. How else would I spend my time if I didn’t have you to worry about?”
“Don’t know.” He grinned up at you. “You’d be a hell of a lot richer, I think. Not wasting all your rations on some old man.”
“Mmh, maybe, but I like to spoil you,” you said through a smile.
He pulled you down next to him with a soft c’mere, and you laughed as he tucked you in close to him and he buried his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. You could tell the wear on his body was making him achy when he tensed before having to let you go.
You smoothed his hair off his forehead, your fingers brushing against the clean bandages wrapped around his head. “I’ll run you a bath, if you want.”
He shut his eyes against the cool touch of your hand and nodded. “That’d be nice, honey. Real nice.”
That’s all he would ever have to say. Even less and you’d still do anything for him. He would never even have to ask.
-
#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#Pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#thou hbo#Ellie miller#Joel miller tlou#the last of us fic#tlou fanficiton#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#Pedro pascal fic#joel miller x y/n#Joel miller smut#Pedro pascal smut#pedrito#tlou hbo
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||•~ Growing pains ~•||
(Older)Damian Wayne x Reader
*My GIF
I’m finally getting better at making fic’s longer. As always I hope you guys enjoy it and that my inability to spell doesn’t reflect in my writing to much🙃
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: little bit angsty
====================================
Damian starts to develop feelings towards his best friend, he doesn't understand what these feelings mean so who better to go to but his big brother Dick?
====================================
Damian hated this class. Out of all the classes he had to waste his day attending, this one was the worst because the one person who made school bearable was on the other side of the room. So, he was stuck sitting next to morons who only wanted to talk to him because he was Damian Wayne.
He was zoned out not paying any attention to the class, he didn’t need to, he knew more about the subject then the teacher did and that left him to doing the one thing that had seemed to take over his life recently, drawing you. He sat there sketching lines onto his book glancing up to look over to you as you sat with your face resting in your hand looking half asleep. Damian smiled to himself as he looked back down to the sketch. No matter how many times he drew you he could never make it perfect, never fully capture the beauty you hold.
It had been almost two months of Damian drawing you. You had found one of his sketch books and were so shocked at how talented he was, the detail was incredible, so obviously as his best friend you begged him to draw you.
∞∞
“No.” he sighed
“C’monnnn Dami please! Just one sketch. It’s just one please!” you grab his arm and he squirms a little.
“Oh sorry... I forgot the touching thing. But seriously please? Just draw me once.” you pull you hand away and give him puppy dog eyes. You were the one person he listened to, not a lot, but more than anyone else.
“Fine. One okay?” he looks over to you and smiles as you start clapping and smiling.
“Thank you Dami!”
∞∞
He had finished the sketch and just looked at it just wasn’t good enough, it was missing something and he couldn’t make it look perfect but you had seen him stop so you practically ran over to him and sat next to him and ran your fingers over the edge of the paper and you had smiled so much, you seemed so happy.
As happy as you were with the picture Damian just couldn’t let go of the fact something was missing, so he tried again, using the picture of the two of you that he kept in his room as a reference.
It drove him crazy, whenever he saw you there was something so beautiful that he just couldn’t capture in his drawings and eventually after every day you spent together, he would sit down and draw it.
Over the two months he had filled up the entire book with memories and whenever he looked through his sketchbook he was filled with happiness and something completely unexplainable.
“Damian since you seem to be paying attention what is the answer to the question?” the teacher asked trying to embarrass him. It backfired quickly when Damian answered correctly without even looking up from his book. The class tried to stifle their laughter as the teacher turned red and tried to continue with the class.
Damian shot his eyes up to look at you again and he heard your laugh after what had occurred and he just smiled back at you. He didn’t know what was happening to him.
How he felt about you confused him which he hated Damian absolutely hated not know what was happening especially when his own feelings are what were confusing him. He needed to know what was happening and he couldn’t work it out on his own... he needed help...
∞∞
He was never going to let Damian live this down. Damien actually asking for someone else's help.
“I swear Grayson. You will never utter a word of this conversation to anyone is that understood?” Damian scowls at Dick as they sit across from each other.
“Sure, okay fine what do you need help with Damian?” Dick slouches over resting his elbows on his knees.
“Whenever I’m with Y/n... I feel weird.” Damian says trying to piece together the words.
“Weird? What do you mean weird?”
“If I knew what I meant I would have said that wouldn't I Grayson? Uh forget it.” Damian goes to stand up.
“No! Hey Damian, I'm sorry come on I want to help.” Dick says standing and gently puts his hand on Damian’s shoulder, “Just talk to me try to explain it?”
“Fine... when I’m with her I...I just...I feel like I’m happier... I feel like a better person and I feel...okay I mean actually okay.” Damian sat back down and but his head in his hands. “And... there is just something unexplainable and...I don’t understand... my entire life i have know exactly how to feel and how to respond... how to turn off my feelings...but I can’t and I don’t know how to deal with it... i don’t even know what it is!”
“Heh... sounds like you're in love.” Dick lets out a small almost sad chuckle. “First love...wow”
“Love?-”
“Yeah love it is what happens when people-”
“I know what love is Grayson!” Damian replies hastily and rolls his eyes, “I just didn’t know it felt like... this...”
“It’s love. It feels like love. You just know!” Dick says almost like he was confused
“No Grayson. I don’t know that’s why I came to you.” Damian knew people didn’t understand but at this point they didn’t even try to understand that he couldn't process emotion like other people, they just brush it off.
“I’m trying to be supportive but how do you not know what love is like? Any kind of love?”
“Well Dick some of us didn’t grow up perfectly.”
“Perfectly?! Perfectly really?? No one in this house grew up perfectly! Except maybe Alfred, but that’s beside the point!”
“Yeah well you could be less of a dick, Dick.” Damien stood up and walked away without a second thought.
∞∞
“I will never understand the need for a bed the size of a normal room.” You laugh as you fall back onto Damian’s bed and lay there looking up at his ceiling.
“I don’t get it either but its comfortable.” Damian raises his head and puts his pencil on his desk.
“I agree maximum comfort levels. I should sleep over more.” you smile and watching you on his bed his face heats up and you move around on the bed and walk over to him.
You sit up on his desk and look down at Damian’s sketch book.
“Is that me?” you move to grab the book, but Damian gets to it first and slams it shut.
“Nope.” his eyes meet yours and he smiles, “Not you at all.”
“Hm I don’t think so, I'm pretttyy sure that was me.”
He looks down and he tried to stay calm. Did you hate him? Did you think he was creep? Were you going to stop hanging out with him?
“Let me see it!” you laugh and try to grab the book.
“No!”
“Please?”
“...Fine...”
He hands the book over to you and his hand brushed yours and you smiled.
You open the book to the first page and see a beautiful sketch of your day out at the beach with him, you flip over the pages one by one and are met with an entire book full of drawings of you.
“Damian...”
That was it you thought he was a creep.
“These are so amazing...” you reach the end of the book and find a page with your sketch in a box in the middle of the page.
“Sorry...this is weird...” He looks at the wall and straightens up in his seat.
You reach over and place your hand on his cheek, you run your finger over the side of his face.
“What are you talking about? They are amazing Damian what are you embarrassed about?”
“You don’t think I'm creepy for having a sketch book full of pictures of you?” Damian laughs and leans into your hand.
“No... it's so sweet.” you look down trying to force words pass the lump in your throat. “It’s nice to have the guy you like take that much interest in you...” you mumble to quietly.
“You like me?”
“Yeah...maybe...a little bit...”
“Good.” Damian stands up and tugs you off the desk and hugs you. “Because... I think I like you too.”
“Damian?”
He pulls back.
“Yeah...?”
“Can I kiss you?”
He smiles and you lean into him and press your lips against his and you slowly close your eyes,grasping your waist tightly he pulls you closer to him. The moment seems to last for an eternity and once you pull away you rest you head on his chest.
“Just one sketch huh...?” you look up and Damien rolls his eyes at chuckles.
“Just one sketch.”
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Tag list:
#older damian wayne x reader#older damian wayne#batfam#damian wayne#robin damian#robin x reader#robin x y/n#robin x you#batman#batfam imagine#batfam fic#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x y/n
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「Who Do You Belong To?」 [Johnny Cage x Fem Reader]
Summary: Being in a relationship with someone like Johnny Cage isn’t easy, especially when they have the same reputation he does, always so much attention always on you and your relationship. But maybe you can use that to your advantage, make them all know who this A-lister belongs to.
Tags: nsfw (basically just porn with a tiny plot lmao), semi public sex, au, dom&sub, switch reader, switch johnny, jealousy, possession, pet names (mostly baby)
An: hiii so this is my first time not only writing smut but also posting anything i write lol, i hope its not shit.. i pretty much only wrote this because i had this idea and no one had written anything like it so i wrote it myself.. anywaysss enjoy :3
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3 months. It had been only 3 months since you started dating the “infamous” Johnny Cage. 3 months and yet you were already more famous than 99% of the population would ever be.
You were still getting used to the fame, the constant cameras flashing in your face and the constant attention. You knew so many women would kill to be where you are, in the arms of Johnny, knowing that didn’t make life any easier. Constantly, new drama would stir up, rumours about you or your boyfriend breaking up or cheating on each other. But that… that was bearable. What wasn’t bearable was Johnny's co-star on his new movie. She wasn’t shy about wanting him and when the rumours started circulating of him ditching you for her she laughed it off and played stupid. “Oh really?”, she laughed, “I cannot confirm nor deny anything, it’s up to the fans imaginations.” That bitch made you livid.
This was supposed to be a relaxing day but you spent all of your time on Johnny's yacht reading the nasty and idiotic comments from the media. It was also extremely hard to relax considering the paparazzi was so close by, it seemed no matter where you went you could not escape them. But that revelation gave you an idea.
Getting up off the lawn chair you were lounging on, you pranced your way over to your boyfriend, who was occupied with writing his own movie. Taking the notebook out of his hands as you got on top of him. He was surprised at first but then smirked, eyeing the way your little body looked in that tiny bikini.
“Johnnyyyyy…” You whined while looking at him through half lidded eyes. Slowly, you grinded yourself on his clothed dick. “I need you right now.” You smiled, seeing the way his face contorted as you moved yourself across his lap. You leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I need everyone to understand who you belong to, so do me a favour and fuck me where they all can see.” You felt him hardening underneath you at your words. “Fuck, whatever you say baby.”
You leaned into each other, mouths crashing together in an aggressive kiss. Continuing to grind on each other while making out, only breaking to release some particularly intense whimpers. His large hands running all over your tiny body. Moving your hands down his chiselled abs, you reached the prize. Palming him through his shorts, which elicited the prettiest moans from his mouth.
Finally, you took his cock out, glistening with precum. You ran your delicate hand up and down his shaft, fingers tracing his pretty little veins and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. You raised yourself up, letting him pull your bottoms to the side. You aligned yourself with him and slowly sunk down, making you both moan. You looked out across the water, seeing the many cameras, all focused on you and him. You began moving, listening as he moaned out your name. The way his thick cock stretched you always took you over the edge. You grinded your pretty pussy on him, over and over, not even paying attention to the poor mess of a man beneath you, only staring out at the cameras. Making sure they caught every glimpse of the way you could so easily destroy this big-shot A lister.
“No one else can make you feel this way, right baby?” You purred. “Yes.. fuckkkkk baby yes only you.” You could feel him twitch inside of you while he spoke, he was close. You frowned, “Well that cunt you work with seems to think she owns you.” You pulled yourself off of him, watching him groan with annoyance, his orgasm being denied. “What the fuck? I was close.” Cursing out your name. “Well it’s no fun if we just sit here…” You said, getting off him and leading him to the edge of the boat, your body facing the paparazzi across the water. You bent down in front of him, putting on a show as you pulled down your bikini bottoms. As you did he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your cunt. You turned back around and moved towards him, arms reaching to grab his hair, suddenly shoving him down on his knees. “Be a good boy and eat me out while your adoring fans watch, maybe then I will let you have what you want.” Your sultry tone doing indescribable things to him.
He started by slowly nibbling and biting at your thighs, hands wrapping around them with ease. You groaned, “Don’t tease me Johnny.” Eyes staring daggers down at him. “Whatever you say…” And with that, he dove right in. His tongue flicking and circling around your clit in ways that could only be described as heavenly. Your hands dug into his hair, shoving his face closer to your aching core. He then moved his mouth down, lapping like a dog at your slick, his nose lightly grazing over your clit, leaving so much more to be desired. Your moans were getting so loud at this point you wouldn't be surprised if everyone on the beach could hear you. “Fuck Johnny, I’m close, you’re doing so good… You look so good on your knees.” Your brain turning to mush as you babble random praises, your orgasm steadily approaching.
And when it hit you were a mess. Moaning out curses and his name, legs turning to jelly. The only thing to stop you from collapsing was his hands, which were glued to your hips. After you finally regained the ability to stand on your own Johnny stood up. Licking the left behind slick on his lips with his tongue. You were about to bark another command at him before he interrupted you. “Agh fuck this. I can't take this anymore.” You were about to question him before he grabbed you, turning you around so he can bend you over on the edge of the boat. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Im fucking tired of this, it’s my turn to ruin you, sound good baby?” His voice sent chills down your spine. You nodded, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He leaned back and soon you felt his cock between your thighs, gliding along your folds. Then, suddenly, the feeling was gone. You turned back to face johnny only to see him walking towards his chair. He grabbed his phone and then winked at you. “For safekeeping yknow?” He finally was back behind you, stroking himself a bit before finally easing himself into you. He groaned your name, taking you fully. You could hardly contain your whimpers when he started moving.
“You look so good on camera, fuck, you should star in one of my films.” He laughed, now moving at a pace all too slow. “I’ll only star in it if I get to fuck you in it.” You responded, releasing a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He took his free hand and moved it to your clit, rough fingers circling it at an insane pace. The combination of him pounding into you and hitting that special spot inside if you and him rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. With the way you were moaning and the way your cunt was tightening around his cock he could tell you were close. “You’re so beautiful when you’re whining around my cock.” He chuckled. “F-fuck.. Johnny please I'm so close.” You stuttered out. Suddenly he grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back into his chest. He held the phone out in front of the 2 of you while beginning a relentless pace. “Smile for the camera while you come undone babe. This is your glamour shot.” You could barely focus on what he was saying due to the pleasure that was shooting through your body. He moved his hand from your hair to your neck and squeezed a little. “I said smile.” His tone was stern and that was the last straw. The knot in your stomach snapped and you came, making sure to look into the camera and smile, per his request. Your moans were near pornographic as you shook from your orgasm, falling back onto the edge of the yacht. He pulled out of you and you couldn’t help notice, he still hadn’t cummed. You turned around and glanced down to his still-hard cock and then to his face.
“You gonna come over here and fix this or what?” He questioned, smirking while he spoke. “I guess it’s only fair… you have been so good to me today Johnny.” You turned, falling to your knees. Now eye level with his length. You moved your hands to it, gently stroking your boyfriends dick, trying to see what reactions and noises you could get to come out of his pretty face. You brought your mouth to his tip, doing short kitten licks to his slit. You moved your tongue all over his cock, licking and tenderly tracing every vein with your tongue. “Come on.. don’t punish me more than you already have..” He begged, looking down at you with those puppy dog eyes you just couldn’t resist. “Grab your phone Johnny, let’s see if that whore will understand who you belong to after this.” He was taken aback by your request but nonetheless complied. The moment he started recording you were ready to put on the performance of a lifetime.
Never taking your eyes off the camera, you stuffed his cock into your mouth. Johnny quietly whimpered at the feeling of you taking him in his mouth but before he could savour it, you pulled his dick out of your mouth with a ‘pop’. “Don’t try and quiet those moans Johnny, I need to make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He nodded and you eased your mouth back onto him. Johnny had never seen something more beautiful than you choking on his cock. The way your mouth worked had him sure he was in heaven. His breathing sped up and he grabbed your hair. “Fuck i’m so close, let me fuck this pretty face.” You nodded and he gripped your hair tighter. He was so rough, whimpering and crying out with pleasure while shoving his dick as far down your throat as he could. His thrusts started to become sloppy and before you knew it he was painting your throat white and releasing the hottest groans and praises. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and bent down to inspect his work. “You are so gorgeous, I can never get enough of seeing your little mouth filled with my cum.” He smiled, ending the video and throwing his phone to the side while you swallowed.
Safe to say that the internet was going wild for a few months after the paparazzi released those pictures… and safe to say that his stupid co-star didn’t do shit like that again.
#mortal kombat#johnny cage#mortal kombat 1#johnny cage fanfiction#smut#mk1 smut#mortal kombat johnny cage#mk1#mk1 2023#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage smut#mortal kombat fandom
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The Night Shift
A/N: First NCIS fic! Decided to keep my OC's name instead of reader as I'm pretty attached to her.
If you're alone on V Day, here's some Gibbs. <3
Title: The Night Shift
Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.
Words: 2568
It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was tired.
She wrinkled her nose as something tickled at it and sat up to reach for the packet of tissues sitting dutifully by the pillow.
It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was sick and tired.
Tony, the shit-stirrer that he was, leaned precariously back in his swivel chair to stare at her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the chair itself, she still would have noticed his sudden attention by the feeling of his eyes boring into her for perhaps the tenth time since they’d set up camp in the NCIS building about five hours ago. He was relentless.
Emmie paused. Tissue wedged in her nose, sinuses burning, she looked up and stared at him. Tony rose an eyebrow. Emmie hardened her stare. Tony, because he was Tony, purposefully leaned further back so she could see the exact moment he dramatically cupped a hand to his stupid little mouth and—
“Giiibbs!”
Emmie’s jaw tensed. Tony grinned in superfluous victory.
Another squeak, a more familiar one this time, and Gibbs’s swivel chair glided along the carpeted floor around the divider between the cubicles until he could see Emmie. She was still sitting up, looking quite the sight with a tissue halfway up her right nostril and her hair sticking at all angles. On any other day she would have responded to Tony’s pure gall by glaring him straight into the ground. But today was not that day. Today was a bad day. Today, her week-long, just-about-bearable cold had decided to manifest into sinusitis, and she’d woken with a face that felt as though tiny little men were mining for gold in her skull. Ducky had liked that metaphor.
Partly because she was absolutely awful at caring for herself when she was ill, and partly—mostly—because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on work if she was left to fend for herself at home, Gibbs had dragged Emmie into the office with him. She’d made her rounds all day—curled up on Abby’s little couch at first, then bundled off to an empty room when Abby found working in silence too impossible. At lunchtime, a meeting had been scheduled in the room, and she’d been forced to accompany Gibbs and Tony in the car to a naval base connected to the case they were working on, sniffling and groaning in the back seat like a Victorian child on her death bed.
And here she was now, at two a bloody m, lying on an ungodly amount of blankets, wrapped in Gibbs’s jacket and Tony’s hoodie, on the floor, feeling like her body was readying to explode. Life couldn’t get worse.
Unless you were acquainted with Tony DiNozzo. In which case, life could, and most certainly would, get worse.
Gibbs dipped his head and rose an eyebrow at Emmie. Emmie couldn’t do much in her defence but sniff. Hard. A slight protest only she had the guts to attempt. It was when he pointed a finger at her and motioned with it for her to lie down again that Emmie tossed her arms up.
“Do you know—” Another sniff—“Do you even know how hard it is to lie down and feel your sinuses drain into your throat?” Her voice was so nasally she couldn’t sound stern, even if she put every ounce of effort into it.
Tony, naturally, did not try hard to cover his amusement at that. He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, spinning from side to side absently in his chair with the tip of his tongue held between his smirking lips when Emmie turned narrowed eyes on him.
“I was getting a tissue, FYI,” she said to him and only him. “So, you can stop being a kiss ass, Anthony.”
“Emmie.” Gibbs disappeared behind the divider again. “Back to sleep.”
Tony, meanwhile, gaped. “Kiss ass who?”
Emmie ignored him and shuffled back down again. She shut her eyes and swallowed. Already the disgusting stuff had decided the place it wanted to be right now was her stomach, and was meandering slowly down her throat towards it.
“You were being a bit of a kiss ass,” she heard Gibbs agree.
“Oh, come on. You said you wanted her to sleep!”
“Yeah, and I do.”
“But you’re gonna call me a kiss ass when I tell you she’s not sleeping? Kiss my ass.”
“What was that?”
“Sorry, Boss.”
In all honesty, there was nothing more that Emmie wanted least right now than to sleep. True, she was exhausted, but the part of her brain not currently still enshrouded in said exhaustion wanted to be up and active again, helping Gibbs with the case like her internship allowed.
And yet, the man still believed she needed her head on a pillow.
The team had been working on a case all day, one she didn’t know the specifics of. It wasn’t exactly often that they stayed in the office well into the night to continue their current case, but it appeared Gibbs had a weird feeling about this one. From the snippets of conversation that she’d picked up and actually retained in her decrepit brain, a potential witness was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, and Gibbs wanted to speak to him the moment he woke up, which, according to the doctors, could be at any time. That apparently required the entire team to stay behind which, considering the fact Emmie was currently holed up on the floor of Ziva’s empty cubicle, not everyone had complied with.
The moment Tony got out of his chair to help Gibbs with something and disappeared from her line of sight, Emmie eased herself into a sitting position once more. She reached for the tissues again, rubbing at her leaking nose with the sleeve of Gibbs’s jacket and not possessing the brain power to regret that decision. She blew into a tissue, paused to catch her breath, then—
“Gibbs.”
Emmie deflated completely. Wow. The world truly hated her today.
She looked up to see McGee walking in with a bag of takeout. He barely glanced at her as he passed, choosing to instead spend that energy alerting Gibbs to the fact she was, again, not lying down.
Before either Tony or Gibbs could come into view once more, Emmie sighed, stuck two bits of tissue in both nostrils, and scooted backwards to sit against the wall.
“Can’t breathe lying down,” she said before anyone could say a single word. “And I’m tired of being tired. I don’t want to sleep anymore. Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. Shush.”
Tony’s head appeared around the corner, and he snorted again. Then the squeak of Gibbs’s chair as he got up. A rustling. A moment later he appeared with a takeout box in his hand, walking towards her. He lifted it so she could see, and she groaned, shaking her head. A corner of Gibbs’s mouth lifted but he wasn’t about to back down on this fight. He never did.
He knelt in front of her, close enough to see the pallidness of her face and the slight sickly tremble of her small frame. Emmie visibly relaxed when he reached out a hand to press against her forehead, the coolness of his skin momentarily dowsing the heat of hers.
Gibbs checked the watch at his wrist. “Another couple hours and you can dose up again.”
“Thanks.”
“Yep. ‘Till then…” He went to withdraw his hand, but Emmie’s own hand shot up and pinned his to her forehead.
“No,” she said simply.
“No to my hand leaving, or food?”
“No.”
“You gotta eat. You know the drill. Eat or sleep.” She grumbled something and Gibbs reached with his free hand to lift the lid on the box. The smell of warm chicken soup filled the space between them, and Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Come on, kiddo. It’s only soup.”
“I feel too sick to eat.”
“Sleep it is, then.”
“Dad—”
“Hey. The cure for alll Emmie-related illness is sleep. Always has been, always will be.” It was true. Gibbs knew his daughter better than she knew herself, after all. Everyone was different, but Emmie’s medicine was sleep until she could look him in the eye and confidently tell him she felt a bit better. If years of being a single parent had taught him anything, it was that.
With a bit of reluctance, he pulled his hand from her head and leant forward on his toes. “You don’t have to lie down to sleep,” he told her. “Here—” Emmie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with the pillows and blankets behind her, but when he sat back and she turned as much as her aching neck would allow, there was a nice little DIY upright-bed against the wall. Gibbs, seemingly proud of his work, was met with a look of absolute discontent on his daughter’s face.
He puffed his cheeks out and glanced at the soup. “Aeroplane?”
“Seriously?” Emmie deadpanned.
He reached for the spoon, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Worked when you were a kid.”
“There’re a few keywords in that sentence, Dad. Are you trying to give Tony more fuel to embarrass me?”
Gibbs glanced over his shoulder. Tony had returned to his desk, leaning dangerously back in his chair to gain the best vantage point. The man had absolutely zero shame.
Gibbs jerked his head. “Check with the hospital about Lupin, would you, DiNozzo?”
Tony visibly deflated. Emmie sent him a smug look and he stuck his tongue out. Reluctantly, he wheeled back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Do this, DiNozzo, do that, DiNozzo,” he grumbled to himself. “Oh, while you’re at it, why don’t you polish my boots and write a thesis on my intellectual prowess, DiNozzo? Sure, I’ll get right on it, Boss!” He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear. “Should I get your laundry and your coffee too, Boss? Should I do—hi, there! Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, calling for an update on a patient? Ryan Lupin. Yeah, I’ll hold. Thanks.”
“Dad.” Such an exasperated voice could only belong to the resident invalid, and after only a second’s hesitation, Tony—slowly—wheeled himself back, as far as the cord to the phone still held against his ear would allow. Emmie and Gibbs were still on the floor, the former looking most disgruntled at the spoon in the latter’s hand.
“I’m being serious,” she said then.
“So am I,” Gibbs said, “very serious. I’m being very serious right now. Soup?”
Emmie rolled her eyes, but a smile was pulling at her lips all the same. She shook her head. “Go back to your desk, old man.”
Tony’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Oohoohoo!” He was close to rubbing his hands together in sheer glee. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss?”
“Lupin, DiNozzo.”
“I’m on hold!” The fact that Gibbs made no sign that he was going to pick his daughter up on her insult, when Tony knew that if he’d been the one to call his boss elderly he’d be getting a bit more than a slap to the back of the head, hit a sore spot. “Wait,” he said, looking hilariously appalled, “you’re actually gonna let her get away with it?”
Gibbs, defeated in this part only, dropped the spoon back in the box and put it on the desk. “I’ve been called worse,” he called back, “believe me.”
“Grandpa,” Emmie said.
“Thank you, Em, that’s very helpful.”
“Ninnyhammer, pillock, douche canoe, old man—”
“You already said that one.” Gibbs chuckled. “Douche canoe?”
Emmie shrugged. “Dunderhead.”
“Alright.”
“Ugly…nut.”
“Jemima.”
McGee, who’d since been silently working and eating at his desk, paused. Mouth open, forkful of noodles on its way, he turned confused eyes to the ground.
“Her name’s Jemima?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “How long you been here McGee?”
As soon as Emmie looked the slightest bit like she was about to resume her name-calling, Gibbs put his palm over her mouth. He rose a brow in warning. She blinked. Blinked again. Then—
“Aw, come on!” Gibbs’s face contorted into one of absolute disgust as a rush of air and wet stuff flew at his hand. He withdrew it immediately, holding it away from him, while Emmie sniffed and nonchalantly used the jacket sleeve again.
“You little crapbag.” It was the best he could come up with.
“What? You think I plan my sneezes?”
Tony, up until now quite enjoying the performance, rolled quickly back to the desk with the phone at his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m still here.”
Gibbs stood and walked briskly to his desk so he could grab the stack of napkins the takeout had come with. “I don’t doubt anything when it comes to you.”
“Thank you.” Emmie rubbed at her red eyes with her hand and slumped against the back of the wall. Gibbs, coating his hands with sanitizer, watched with a knowing eye. He shook his hands and walked back around to Ziva’s cubicle, perching on the desk to look down at her.
“You’re sick,” he said.
“I know. And?”
“And, sick people eat soup, and they sleep. Okay? They don’t stay up at all hours of the night—nooo, no, no. I’m talking now, kiddo. I know you’ve been sleeping all day, I know you wanna get up and back to work, but that’s not happening until your fever’s gone. No point in fighting that, and you know full well. Clear?”
Any other day. Any. Other. Day. The protests were practically clawing at her throat. But a sudden wave of nausea rushed over her and she backed down immediately. Still, the thought of lying down again was awful, and the tired eyes she turned on her dad somehow translated that.
Gibbs sighed. “What’s it gonna take, huh?” Emmie didn’t need to think about her answer to that. She wasn’t even sure her expression had changed at all when Gibbs shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, “come on, now. I gotta work.”
This time, she did change her expression, putting it on in the way she knew worked best. Gibbs, naturally, relented.
“Fine,” he said, motioning with his hands for her to move over. She did, though admittedly it was a bit of a pitiful move with her aching body. He breathed a short laugh but came to sit in the miniscule space she’d made beside her anyway.
“Thanks, douche canoe,” Emmie whispered.
Tony put the phone down. “Still knocked out, Boss,” he said, pushing his chair backwards. When he saw Gibbs on the floor, arm wrapped around his daughter, who had her head on his shoulder, he crossed his arms over his chest and positively pouted.
“Hey, why do you get to sleep?”
Gibbs chuckled and shut his eyes. “When you’ve got a sick kid, I’ll let you sleep on the office floor with her. Wake me before Lupin does, would you?”
“How am I—Boss? Boss?” Tony threw his arms up in the air and shook his head, grabbing a notebook from his desk to doodle in. “Kiss my ass.”
“Heard that.”
“I wanted you to.”
Well, one thing was for certain. Gibbs may have won this fight, but so had Emmie.
NCIS Masterpost
#ncis#ncis fanfiction#gibbs#jethro gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#reader#reader fic#teen reader#teen!reader#daughter reader#daughter!reader#tony dinozzo#tony x reader#tony dinozzo x reader#gibbs x dinozzo#dinozzo x gibbs#mine#oc reader#oc!reader#leroy jethro gibbs x reader
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on strawberries and masonry: chapter i
series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company
OR
you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)
warnings: angst, ANGST👈🏻👈🏻, reader has a violent past but we don’t get graphic about it yet, knives (at present we only use her for gardening), age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), mention of masturbation (if i left out any, let me know!)
word count: 3.1k
authors note: i would consider myself a mildly experienced writer but this is my first ever fic! kindness is appreciated but so is constructive criticism. i really hope you enjoy🍓
by the way, a big ol thank you to @macfrog @netherfeildren @5oh5 @swiftispunk @bageldaddy (and others), whose fantastic writing gave me the courage to put this story to paper🫶
series masterlist | masterlist
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you don’t remember much about the little fruits, from the time that came before. you were only a child then, 8 when it all crumbled to pieces, and those small sweetnesses aren’t things you’re taught to notice when you’re that young. lemons and airplane engines and the neighbor’s dog; these you remember, what with all the ruckus they made, but berries and peaches were far too soft of creations to make an impression. you suppose to anyone who could see your life in full, it would seem ironic in a tragic sort of way that they were all you cared for now.
you like to ponder these things—torture, really—on your way to the garden in the morning. there’s something about the honesty of jackson air, the clarity of it at daybreak, that make such musings, painful as they are, the only bearable passtime. keeping your hands close to your sides inside your jacket, you let your fingertips brush against the knife stored there. maria had offered you gardening tools, things more fit for the work you did now, but you’d refused; this knife was your father’s once (if you were remembering correctly) and you wouldn’t let it rust over on your nightstand. you like to make use of things, things and people if you’re honest, and trimming plants and flowers and little fruits are no less noble uses for it than what you did before jackson.
the crunch of your boots beneath you whispers up as you trudge along. your house isn’t far from the garden, but ages, it feels, from everything else. you’d gone to the tipsy bison, once, within the first few weeks of moving in, convinced you were young and entitled to normalcy after what they’d collected you from on the outside. the scotch burned your throat in a cliche kind of way, and you suppose you enjoyed that part, but the walk alone in the dark on your way home was enough to keep you from the establishment since. you moved back and forth from your garden, the dining hall, and occasionally tommy’s house when you couldn’t bear the loneliness; these pathways you’d carved out for yourself here are few and stubborn, but you love them because they’re yours. the other young men and women your age in town, most of whom have lived the better part of their lives within these walls, don’t think of you enough to find you as strange as you perhaps are, but their not thinking is a comfort to you. the crunch crunch crunch of your boots on the gravel mumbles in agreement.
“speak of the devil.”
tommy is leaning against the glass of the greenhouse wall with noah when he calls it out to you, grounding you in place. you’d made it all the way to the garden in the time it took for that ugly contemplation, but the both of them are smiling with that back and forth glance only boyishness forgives, and now the morning is real. it’s cold enough that numbness has clawed its way up the bridge of your nose, the frost keeping last night’s snow frozen to the ground. it’s these moments, the arrivals to your garden at dawn, when the day comes to you. you like the both of them, noah and tommy. they make you feel like somebody’s sister. you turn up the ends of your mouth. “all bad things i hope.”
“awful, really,” noah chuckles, tugging on the arm of your jacket to pull you inside with tommy behind you, the both of them still smiling in conspiracy.
you begin to slip your arms out of your coat, laying it carefully against a wall, the wet warmth of the greenhouse rushing you immediately. you’d been heating the inside for a few weeks now, trying to maintain a healthy summer crop output despite the freezing soil, and a few of the sturdier vegetables had steadily been peeking their way up. you plucked a full radish from the dirt last week and nearly wept over it. you look back up at tommy and noah, standing shoulder to shoulder now in the aisle between the planter boxes to block your path forward, humming still with whatever tommy-and-noah-elation they’ve concocted. you tilt your head a little and smile.
“are you gonna make me guess? or can you just tell me?”
they confer with a nod and a jostle side to side, tommy turning back to you. “there’s a strawberry.”
your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as something golden and beautiful unfolds inside of you. “there isn’t,” you counter. noah turns himself sideways so you can walk through the aisle to the end of the left planter box and you rush there (you’re rarely frantic, nowadays, but you allow this sort of thing for your little fruits).
maria had placed you here in the garden as a safeguard. she thought you dangerous (and you were, at least back when you met her), so she put you to work where your hands could do good and be far from people. it helped, you guessed, that the greenhouse is made of glass; she could keep an eye on you this way. and oh, how you’d resisted it, the softness of a gardener’s job. in the end, though, the black and grime of life left as residue on your palms felt like forgiveness, and you’d taken quickly to thinking yourself a botanist.
by the time you arrive at the end of the left planter box, on your knees like a worshiper at a pew, you’re eye level with the little poetry of red and green parting the soil you’d scooped by hand last month. tommy and noah, you feel, are behind you as your shadow casts itself over the soil, and you almost have to pull the thing out just to bear this feeling. there’s a strawberry. and you actually say it out loud, softer than anything but wild, still, and staring at the child of plant and earth you’d nursed to color. noah and tommy drop to your sides, and you notice then that the three of you are crying, and you laugh and laugh over the little thing like madness and sweetness and pride.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the euphoria of your strawberry lasts you well into the late afternoon. tommy and noah had left you to bask in the glory of it to continue with construction on a little post office right off the main road, and you worked the morning with your thumbs in the dirt, slicing browning leaves off the budding plants with as much gentleness as you could muster. you look down at your knife, cradled close in the cup of your palm, to finger out the soil packed through the engraving along the handle. a last name meant nothing anymore, what with your loneliness and the end of the world, but still the slopes of it peer up at you; you watched your father make the engraving, you think, though the actual memory of it is lost to time.
by the time you reach the beets at the end of the right planter box, a commotion has stirred outside. men’s voices ring and rumble from the main road, and the bass of it hums under your knees on the ground. a great bark of tommy reaches you clearly, even tucked away as your greenhouse is, and curiosity consumes you enough to resign from your garden for the day. these days you are quiet, and reserved, sometimes frightening because you like how it feels, but still curious, always curious, and so you curl yourself back into your jacket to join whatever audience has congregated by the front gates.
he is beautiful in a holy sort of way, whoever he is. you come upon tommy wrapped up in a great big stranger, a horse and a young girl behind him, and the slopes of his nose bend the waning sunlight off into a ribbon of a beam. jesus, when was the last time you’d looked at someone this way? tommy pulls back from him, glassy eyed and awestruck, looking around at those who’d crowded the scene almost incredulously, but you stare still at his stranger, who is so broad and so timid and so clearly unused to his own timidness that you can’t pull your eyes away. he meets your gaze for a moment, as he sweeps his own across the crowd, and looks at you with about as much detachment as he does the rest of this spectatorship. but oh god, he is so divinely pretty, and so you can forgive his lack of immediate fascination with you.
tommy begins walking his stranger and his stranger’s small companion through the throng, introducing and shaking hands, and as you watch them slowly shuffle towards you, you are struck with the thought that this is tommy’s brother. as he shifts his face along the axis of his shoulders, taking in the town, you see more and more of tommy in the motion of his stranger’s face. you’re sure of it now, as tommy calls your name and shepherds the man in front of you.
“my brother here’as decided to make a grand entrance!” tommy says, slapping a mittened hand across his back. you shake his stranger’s hand and give him your name, hoping your little smile doesn’t give away how awful it felt for him to look this way.
“joel,” he musters (and it really does seem like it takes a mustering), and gives your hand a firm shake before stuffing them back in his pockets. he is disinterested, surely, but afraid, too. it almost hurts you how clear his prevailing apprehension is, and you nearly make to apologize for forcing him to introduce himself. his eyes squint in the golden light cast over jackson.
“i work in the greenhouse, a few blocks from here on the edge of the settlement,” you explain, eyes drifting between joel and his little shadow, who both joel and tommy have yet to introduce. she looks a little feral, and this endears you immediately to her. “welcome in,” you offer, and you do your best to direct this message to her from around joel’s shoulder. her eyes are so big for a thing so ferocious (and you are certain she is) and they widen further at your acknowledgment of her.
“we won’t be here for long,” joel grumbles out and you straighten back up. he says it like you’ve offended him, and you bristle a little. tommy’s beautiful stranger is very guarded, you decide. regardless, the width of him, from left to right, blocks the mountain range behind him, and the patchy scruff along his jaw makes you die a little death.
“alright, well,” you start to back away then, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by his face and his broadness and this little girl who looks and moves like you used to, “you know where to find me,” and you nod a little to tommy before turning and walking away. you lasted all but five seconds in front of him, relishing in how little you were in his shadow cast upon you and loving whatever creature the girl he brought with him was, but all the same he looked too tired and cautious and vicious that it suffocated you. he wouldn’t be here for long, apparently; you’ll likely never see him again. as you step towards your little house, you figure it was worth the meeting, if for nothing else than a face to keep you company in the dark when you’re a woman and alone, and a real image to pair with the descriptions tommy gave of a brother who loved him once.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for a while, it seemed you really wouldn’t see joel again. you watched, through your greenhouse walls, the great expanse of him ride out with the girl, and you were left with the comfort of knowing how gorgeous you found him and that you would never have to speak with him again. you warded off your own psychoanalysis of your relief at his faraway-ness in the face of your immediate physical attraction to him, and sunk your fingers again in the soil.
but then he had returned. what with how consoled you felt at his leaving, he almost had to; fate was funny this way. but you figure, still, you needn’t disturb yourself with him. you imagined he’d keep to himself with how unspeaking he was when you first met him, and other than crossing his path every once in a while, leaving tommy’s house or marching himself along somewhere or other, you were right.
you think of him at night, though. in the morning you wake up with the shame and hilarity of it, of this lusting over a man you neither know nor want to know, but past midnight in your bed you let your fingers slip over yourself thinking of how small he’d made you feel. the wanting of him strikes you somewhere between your shoulder blades, and you blame it entirely on how long it had been since you shared your bed with anyone. strictly physical, strictly physical. you’d learned again to care for yourself these years in jackson, and you’d wrought kinship from tommy and noah without realizing it, but in all you attend mostly to flora, and in this you are protected. yes, joel keeps to himself as you surmised he would, but you avoid him, too; to want him in this way, all hands and hips and somewhere within you, is harmless, you determine, so long as he stays tommy’s stranger. he could never be anything or anyone to you.
it’s six weeks or so of joel’s continued disinterest in you, and your insistent avoidance of him (barring the way you touched yourself at night to his face), before a knock at your door past sunset brings you out of bed. people rarely appear at your doorstep, though you imagine it’s noah dropping off seeds found on patrol, or tommy with a similar sort of package, or even ellie, joel’s little creature, who’d spoken all but five words to you about your garden, but all the same materialized rather often there to see the colors of your little fruits. but when maria blinks back at you when you open the door, any semblance of a greeting dies in the back of your throat.
“can i come in?” maria asks, although she’s already leaning her shoulder towards the gap between your body and the doorway. you step aside to let her through. it occurs to you that maria has never visited you in your home before, not in your five years in jackson, and when she turns back to you, back pressed against your kitchen counter, it’s clear she’s just had the same thought. the way she crosses her arms over her chest, the authority of it and the terror, too, beckons you toward her from your place at the threshold.
“is everything okay?” you sigh out as you prop your hip against the adjacent table top. she is inspecting you, but smiles.
“yeah, yeah.” one of you sniffs. you shift your weight. “i came to see what you thought of joel.”
you almost laugh then, really laugh. “i don’t think anything of joel.”
she rolls this answer around behind her teeth. “mhm,” and then this time with finality, “mhm”.
you inspect her, now. “you don’t want him here.” it isn’t a question.
maria hums. “tommy wants him here.”
“that isn’t what i said.”
she purses her lips a moment. “yeah, i know.”
and you’re making the moment torturous for her, you’re certain, because you know why she’s come to you, why she’s standing in your kitchen like the elected leader she is, while something awful, something almost like alarm, leaks from the back of her neck onto your floorboards. you’d come to jackson a wild thing and she’d tamed you, and now you lived as a dirt woman who sunk her dagger into earth and green and life more permanent than humanity. she is proud of this, you think. and joel came as much of the same, with red hands that opened dripping, and maria needs him watched now the same way she watched you through your garden’s glass. you sigh again.
“what do you want me to do, maria? anything i’d say to tommy would be infinitely more effective from you.”
maria nods. “i don’t want you to say anything to tommy. i can live with joel in jackson. but he’s insisting on patrol, and i don’t know who else to put with him.”
your jaw seizes, and the heat of anger spreads itself along your neck and around your ears. you remember when you’d pleaded so kindly, crouching to make yourself smaller, hands collapsed together, begging to be useful, to be put outside, to protect jackson like it was yours. maria was as honest with you then as she is now, and she’d cited your instability (the reality of which is neither here nor there) to keep you off the rounds. you’d told tommy maria envisioned your actions before jackson as far more unforgivable than they were, though you knew that was a lie before you opened your mouth to say it. “patrol?”
she looks so solemnly at you you think you might die right there between your kitchen and the staircase. “yeah. i want you to be his patrol partner. i’m not looking to send him out there with a gun strapped to his back with one of the other gu-”
“and why does it have to be me?” and you’re really angry, now. for your unyielding quiet in this jackson existence you’d sewn together and the little strawberry you’d grown from nothing, still, still, you were at most and at least a violence. “why can’t you assign someone else?”
maria has this answer constructed already, it seems, for how fast she releases it, “because you’ll kill him.”
“noah would, if he had to. and leila. i can think of at least fi-”
“i’m not saying you would kill him. i’m saying you could.”
and suddenly you were again a wasp or spider, poisonous and unthinking, and the weight of the killing you did before jackson, which you had halfway successfully ignored to piece yourself into something good, perched its chin on the crown of your head. your father’s knife, laying up next to your bed after what was now years of tending to vegetables and stalks and leaves, howled with laughter, and it carried down the stairs to you like wind in summer, leadened and screaming and satisfied.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i hope you enjoyed this first part! like i said in my authors note, this is my first time writing a piece like this and certainly my first time posting it, so kindness is much appreciated, as is constructive criticism. part 2 coming (hopefully) soon🍓
update: chapter ii!!
#joel miller fic#joel miller#tlou#the last of us#fem!reader#teehee#jackson!joel#on strawberries and masonry
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Boiling Point | Chef Luca (Prologue)
(working) SUMMARY: A well- known food critic is retiring. Apart of this condition is that you continue writing on his behalf as if he hadn’t. To show you the ropes, he implores Luca to teach you what it takes to enter the culinary world.
There he was. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night
PAIRING: Chef!Luca x f!reader (food journalist/critic)
WORD COUNT: 1.4K
WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, canon-typical things, future enemies to lovers sort of, mutual pining, inspiration from Kitchen Confidential and the movie Boiling Point, etc.
A/N: Just a little sneak peek/intro to this request. Might do a short series (three/four parts)...stay tuned. It’s a little choppy at the moment, so I hope it makes sense. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Comments are always appreciated! Enjoy.
Deep breaths helped.
The nicotine’s warmth sparked excitement in your veins. It made a tedious night seem just bearable with each inhale. You eyed the falling ash as if it were tea leaves promising your near future. Yet, when your eyes surveyed the crowd within the restaurant, it cemented the dull company you’d join.
Excusing yourself was easy. Slipping away wasn’t the issue; it was expected as the call for a cigarette completed your image. The cliché of it made your mouth pucker with your final drag.
“There you are...” A hand settled on your shoulder. Ryan. “They’re ordering another bottle as we speak.” Lighting her own cigarette, she cursed. “We better fucking land this deal—I’m about to max out the company card.”
Flicking your roach under the point of your heel, you scoffed, “Please, if I have to hear that man say heavenly one more time, I’ll—
“You’ll smile.” She reminded you. It was an instruction, really. “Nod your head, agree with anything—Everything.”
“He said supposebly.” You tutted. “I can’t take him seriously.”
“He’s ancient. Cut him some slack!” She laughed. Charm came second nature to Ryan; you weren’t convinced she even knew its effect on people. “He’s sweet on you.”
“Right…” You tried to make out the stars, but the light pollution fought against you. “So, what? I marry him for the life insurance?”
“Let’s just make it through dessert,” Ryan spoke definitively, always cutting through. Yet, room always remained to entertain you. “Then we can talk wedding plans.”
The man that waited for you was Avery Sinclair—world-renowned something. You had listened, but the information had already left you. Those around you, though, knew who sat across from you well. They were almost as good as you hiding their discomfort. Eyes were always on him, knowing his thoughts before he could form them. New forks were laid after the slightest touch, napkin splayed on his lap before he could lift it himself, and every meal came with the chef that made it.
He was respected.
Yet, all you saw was his brittle and thin mustache, sitting upon his lip like forgotten food. The comb-over was just as wirey and pulled kindness to his cheeks. They flushed now as he flirted with another glass of wine.
“There you are!” He bubbled. With a wave of his hand, your diligent waitress returned with the Italian bottle. “I ordered the oak-aged white. It has a buttery note that is just heavenly with the gelée.”
You smiled.
“I cannot believe our night is coming to an end.” Ryan charmed. She held her nose to the glass, listening intently as Mr. Sinclair explained each technique to her. The slurping was a bit much.
“My dear, this is just a start.” The deal was confirmed with those words alone. A part of you wished the promise had a false bottom. “We can draft up something agreeable, I’m sure?”
He looked at you. You had that feeling like you’d forgotten to walk. Each step felt forced and off. You played off your misstep cleverly, your glass raising to the center, “I look forward to working together.”
Ryan was impressed, pride swelling in her chest. She and you were an unmistakable duo. Angel and devil. Thelma and Louise. Introvert and extrovert. Fill in any this and that, and there you two were. Most importantly, she was the publicist, and you were the writer.
“Under one condition…” Mr. Sinclair smiled, far too tickled by your toast. He leaned in, elbows brushing the circular table. “Do you know why I chose this place tonight?”
You hadn’t expected the question. Your answer came out blunt. “Favoritism.”
“You’re sharp.” He smiled broadly, wagging his manicured finger at you. “Exactly that. Look around you…”
You took a genuine moment. The perception of fine dining was all theatrics. It was a large show that ran every night of the week. Even those who dined were an unassuming audience. Those swiveling doors may as well be the curtain line to backstage. The kitchen, the dressing room. The dripping alleyway, the green room.
You were all too aware of the communication chain. The insults were coded frustrations that later into the service would be water under the bridge. There was a reason for everyone being here just as you were.
“We’re all cut from the same cloth. You, me, dear Ryan.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at her. “We all express our passions differently, but we love just the same.”
He felt content. His body relaxed with his decision to hire you. Sinclair could see how you hadn’t quite trusted yourself with the responsibility that he was putting on your shoulders. But he was confident you’d grow into it perfectly.
“I hope you understand the reasons for my poetics—” The rumors and gossip about him failed to do his sincerity justice. “—as I’m trusting you with my legacy.”
“Of course.” You gave another smile; this time, it felt real.
“Excuse my sentimentality!” Mr. Sinclair clasped his hands together in a soft clap. You could almost see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “With that out of the way, dessert? The pastry chef here is—” His favoritism came into play. “—is something special.”
You could picture the chef now, cursing at the interruption. Hopefully, complaining about the big wig seated at table seven wasn’t worth his time. You waited for the rehearsed, polite decline.
Apologies, however, our chef is tied up between aeration.
But there he was, Chef Luca. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides, and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night.
His features were tight, unwavering as the compliments poured. Your lips twitched down as you took him in. With his hands behind his back, his chest pulled broadly, but you could still make out the littered tattoos on his forearms. Typical.
Even with his eyes on you, you hadn’t shied from your judgment. You only stopped when you heard your name.
“Isn’t that right?” Ryan prompted you again, defined features expressing her sternness. Focus. “You always talk about how much you love to bake.”
You don’t.
“Sure.” You nodded.
“A match made in heaven, then!” Mr. Sinclair exclaimed. “You must get to know Luca; he has the most interesting story!”
In your short assessment, you already disparaged his comment. To you, Luca was, like you, a walking cliché.
“I don’t doubt that…” Your sarcasm was palpable. Luca’s stoicism broke with a smirk of confusion. “Let me guess... You were a troublemaker?” Your tone was teasing but bordered something wicked. “Cooking put you straight, and you owe your life to grease and adrenaline.”
“Forgot to mention that I’m a hard-partying criminal.” Luca didn’t waste a beat. Impressive.
“And when did the anger issues start?” You hummed. You played at every stereotype you knew. “Before or after your—
“I think what she means to say—” Ryan cut in seamlessly. She came prepared for your shenanigans. “—is that she admires the journey you’ve taken to get here.”
Luckily, Mr. Sinclair was far too enamored with the preciseness of the dessert to interpret the sudden banter.
“Of course.” Luca looked at you. Then as you had only moments ago, he pulled a practiced expression to address his loyal customer. “Mr. Sinclair, as always, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Unfortunately, I must savor tonight.” He spoke. “My home on the Amalfi coast has been quite lonely.” Sinclair let out a regretful sigh. “I trust you to keep this between us, yes?”
Luca nodded. “Of course.”
“You will be a very lucky man, son.” Sinclair further divulged the secrets behind his retirement. “I hope you heed my advice and get to know this young lady.”
All eyes were on you.
“She will continue to write for me. Use my name.” He explained your purpose. You weren’t ready to hear it aloud. “So treat her kindly, or you will have to answer to me.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Luca almost protested. It seemed elaborate to allow someone so young—you— to take his place.
“Be open. Present.” Sinclair answered. He wasn’t a man of riddles, but you noticed that the more he spoke, the harder to understand. “You were once new. You had to figure it out on your own. Maybe you can help her, show her your world. Our world.”
#q#chef luca#luca#chef luca angst#chef!luca x reader#chef!luca x f!reader#chef luca fluff#chef!luca#pastry chef luca#the bear fx#the bear luca#luca the bear#will poulter#will poulter x reader
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Valentines Success
Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader
Summary: You and Jenna exchange Valentines gifts
Words: 1162
2nd Person POV
(5 days earlier)
Jenna and You walked down the mall, shopping bags in hand. It was particularly quiet today which made the experience a little more bearable today than what you're regularly accustomed to.
You two soon came to a stop in front of a clothing store Jenna frequents, one of her favourite stores. However, the amount of people in store was quite substantial and you too could get noticed in public, something neither of you minded if they're fans, but today you two just wanted some quiet
You quickly thought of a solution to avoid being spotted by the public, and also maybe because you didn't want to go into the store yourself because of the people. "Hey babe, why don't you go in the store and I'll stay out here. That way it'll be harder for people to spot us since we're not close together" you suggested.
"You sure sweetie?" She says and you reply promptly with a nod and a smile. Jenma gives you a loving kiss on the cheek "I'll only be a couple minutes." She says and walks into the store, leaving you standing in the mall, looking for anything interesting to pass the time.
Not far from the clothing store was the LEGO store, one of your personal favourites. LEGO has been a comfort item for most of your life, and let's be honest, who doesn't love LEGO.
You walked over to the store and entered it, immediately engulfed with childhood nostalgia and familier sights that just make you feel all happy and giddy inside.
You looked at each set and their themes. They had from Star Wars, Spider-Man, Marvel Comics, Batman, DC Comics, Pirates In The Caribbean, Harry Potter; literally endless options, but you were looking for Star Wars.
There was one set you really wanted, the "Ultimate Collectors Series Lego Millennium Falcon" coming in at 7541 pieces overall. It was massive, and you wanted it.
Though, there was a problem, you were broke. You had just bought Jenna a really expensive necklace for her valentines day gift. You don't regret buying it because you know she'll love it, but you can't help but feel a little sorry for yourself over the fact you can't afford to buy a set you REALLY wanted.
You caressed the cardboard box that displayed the sets box art, and the blocky contents in held within its frame. "One day you'll be mine" you whispered to the large box as if it were sentient.
But unbeknownst to you, Jenna was peeking from around the shop entrance out of your view, watching you stare in awe of the gargantuan LEGO ship. She knew right then and there that this was the perfect gift to get you.
"Oh Y/N/N you're in for a surprise" She chuckled to herself mischievously.
(literally Jenna from around the corner watching you)
-
(Present day)
It was the moment both of them had been waiting for. It was gift giving time. You and Jenna have treated yourselves to a valentines day brunch and just got back home. You were eager for her to recieve her gift, and she felt the same about hers.
You opened the door for her upon entering your house "Why aren't just a gentleman" she said, with a kiss on the lips as reward for your politeness. You went over to the spot where you hid the box that contained the necklace and hid it behind your back.
You walked over to Jenna with a smile on your face. She cocked an eyebrow and smirked knowing you had something behind your back. "Honey, what are you hiding?" You smiled as she waited with eager anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, you began "Jenna, in all my years of living you've given me more joy than I could've ever imagined. You're are the absolute light of my life and today I just wanted to give you something as a token of my undying gratitude." You pulled the box out from behind you and presented it to her.
Jenna gently took the box from your hands and opened it. The jewels from the diamond necklace were almost blinding as they reflected across her skin, her eyes went wide as soon as they set upon them.
Jenna was barely able to contain a squeal of pure joy and excitement, settling for a loud gasp instead. A small note was under where the necklace sat. It read "Happy Valentines day, Jenna. I love you. P.S im broke now becuz of u <3 - your forever person, Y/N"
Jenna laughed upon reading the note and tears dripped down her face, which brought a smile yours knowing you did good with your gift. She held both of your hands "You are the champion of making me happiest person in the world, Y/N L/N. You are the kindest, sweetest and most adorable person I've ever had pleasure of knowing and I'm glad to call you, my lover."
You blushed hard at the comment. The two of you leaned in and shared a loving kiss to commemorate the love you felt for each other, a love that will stand the test of time no doubt. Jenna leaned away and continued her speech.
"Which is why I got you something too." You waited to find out what it was but she just laughed. "You're gonna wanna sit down for this one" you were heavily confused but laughed and shrugged. You sat down on the couch and closed your eyes.
Your heard Jenna rummaging around to get your gift, her grunting implied that it was something heavy or large. She placed the large box in your lap and placed your hands at the top, holding them tightly.
"This is something I got for you to show you how much I adore you. I love you so much, sweet boy and there are so many more gifts to come" she says and kisses the top of your head. "Open your eyes, bunny"
You did as you were told and soon recognised the box art from the LEGO set you admired from days past. You let out a loud gasp, mostly out of shock, and Jenna was just enjoying the sight.
You soon begin smiling widely like The Joker and tears brimmed at you eyes. "Jenna..." you sniffled. She really did that for you. How did she even know? "How did you...?" You stuttered, unable to focus on what your voice sounded like. You were too excited to care.
Jenna took her place next to you on the couch "Let's just say I have my ways. Happy Valentines day, bunny. I love you more than gifts could ever describe" She kissed you temple and laid her head on your shoulder.
This was a Valentines Day success for sure.
A/N
Short one but I hardly have the time to write so I hoped you enjoyed this one. Not proofread.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#male reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday x you#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x you#wednesday x y/n
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Shout out to @mandoisapunk for being my beta reader! One shot is posted on A03! @pedrostories
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairings: Joel x Reader, Joel x female reader
Word count: 8,905
Summary: After having a bad breakup with Joel Miller, you decide you need a night at the bar to relax and meet someone new. Little do you know, Joel is there but he’s with someone new. Will you let your jealousy get the best of you or will you get revenge with another man at the bar?
Warnings/Tags: No Outbreak, jealousy, angst, longing, fluff and smut, cream pie, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, Dom Joel, possessive Joel, porn with plot, lots of smut, drama, makeup sex
It was a warm summer evening. The Texas heat was brutal, but the nighttime was just a little more bearable as the temperature dropped from 100 to the 80’s. It was Friday night, the one night where the city of Austin came to life the most. Cars crowded the streets with their flashy lights and music that was turned up too loud. Just a normal start to the weekend.
You’d spent most of the early evening getting ready in your too bright, too bulky vanity. Caking your lips with the darkest red lipstick you could find, putting on that perfect shade of pink eyeshadow, getting your eyeliner smooth and sharp, and curling your hair into long waves. You had to look perfect tonight. You were in the mood to flirt, maybe meet a nice guy, maybe bring someone home. It was all up in the air, you just needed to get out of the house. You needed attention. Needed to get your mind off him. It had been a long, insufferable week at work, and you just needed a break.
You walked down Sixth Street that was filled with busy bars and noisy people, settling on a bar called The Black Stallion. A bar you usually didn’t go to. You could’ve gone to all your usuals, but you figured you’d try something new. Maybe tonight would be your lucky night.
You didn’t answer the phone when the girls called earlier, you just needed a night alone to unwind, uncoil all your raging thoughts that had been stirring in your mind.
You’d been doing so good lately. It’d been days since you last saw him. Weeks since you last touched him. You didn’t need him though. It was over between you two, and you had to accept it.
Acceptance could be messy though, and that’s what you’d been lately. A fucking wreck. You thrived off cheap liquor and lousy hook ups to get you through the weeks, trying your best to move on and keep your mind busy. It didn’t really work much though.
Not really.
But you were getting better. One day at a time.
You’d gone days without thinking of him, keeping your mind on men that could be your next obsession to fill the void. Someone who would want to wine and dine you, treat you right. You liked Golden Retriever boyfriends who were kind and sweet. But they weren’t anywhere near what Doberman boyfriends were. Overprotective, loyal, powerful. The ones that say “Touch her and you die” kind of vibes. That’s what Joel was, your Doberman…
No, fuck that and fuck him. You were not doing this tonight. You were here to have fun, to meet someone new. No more thoughts of Joel. He was in the past. You had to look towards your future, with someone better.
Something pulled deep inside you though. Something you pushed down, crushing it with the too high black heels you had on. Sinking it further into the cracks with every clank they made against the pavement that you walked across. This was your time to shine, to go in there and act like you own the place. You sighed and took a deep breath, calming yourself before you stepped in.
You walked into the lit up bar with your head held high. The air smelled like all sorts of liquor and the hint of cigarette smoke that lingered high in the air. The place was packed. Bodies were littered all around you. A couple that was too cozy wrapped themselves up together right next to the door, melding together in a passionate kiss. You rolled your eyes and kept moving forward, it made you sick.
It was dim in here as the lights were down low. You moved past the packed in bodies and found a seat at the bar, pulling back a black barstool and sitting down. You leaned against the dark wood bar top and settled in, looking around at your surroundings. A large mirror covered the back wall as bottles of liquor sat on one another, making all sorts of fancy patterns next to the glass cups.
A pack of older biker men sat a few seats away from you, already ogling you. You wanted to roll your eyes, yell for them to stop staring, but it was pointless. You knew you looked good. You could snatch up any man you wanted if you really tried. But the only man you wanted attention from was gone. You pushed past the thought and flashed them a smile, not caring if you didn’t really mean to be flirty with them. They could have one smile. That was it.
The bartender came over to you, about to take your drink order you assumed. He was handsome, maybe just a couple years older than you. He had black slicked back hair and green eyes that could entrance any sane woman. He was over 6 feet tall and had a nice build. Seemed like a charming gentleman.
“What are you drinking tonight, sweetheart?” he asked smoothly, cleaning off a glass cup with a towel.
“Whiskey and coke, please,” you purred, gently smiling at him.
“A whiskey girl huh?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s what I like.”
“Figured you’d be a fruity cocktail girl.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” you raised an eyebrow in defense.
“No disappointment here,” he said as he raised his hands in defeat. “One whiskey and coke coming right up.” He moved away and started mixing together your drink, watching him closely to make sure he knew what he was doing.
The truth was whiskey and coke wasn’t your usual. Not until you met Joel, then you were hooked. It was his favorite, his go to, his only choice of alcohol. And now it was yours as well. A taste you couldn’t shake. Your own personal brand of heroin. A taste you could get drunk off.
You remembered so clearly what it was like to hang off his lips, his breath smelling of whiskey as he drew you in, tangling his tongue with yours as you melted into him. A tingle ran down your spine just thinking of the way you got lost in his scent. Whiskey and mahogany. Your two favorite scents. You threw the thoughts out of your head quick before the bartender came back over. What the hell was wrong with you? It was over, done.
He came back and set the drink in front of you. “Here ya go, one whiskey and coke on the house. One of those gentlemen over there paid for your drink.”
You looked over and nodded to the man who did. He wasn’t your type at all. Short, buzz cut hair style, and grey eyes. You were still polite and smiled, looking back at the bartender. “Thanks.”
“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled and turned away, going to help another customer a few seats away.
You took the straw that was in the drink and spun it around, watching the ice clink together as the amber colored liquid mixed before your eyes. You listened to the soft hum of Metallica carry through the bar, easing your mind of any tension you had seconds ago. You took a sip of your drink as the cold liquid ran down your throat, the sweet aftertaste hitting seconds later, covering the burn of the whiskey.
You glanced around the room, taking in the low lighting the bar encapsulated, watching the spin of couples on the small wooden dance floor, scanning the doorway as men trailed in and out of the bar. You were trying your best to relax.
Your eyes made their way to the pool tables, scanning over the groups of people that were crowded around them. The black walls mixed in with the red carpets of the pool table tops, along with the cue sticks that sat against the walls. You relaxed against the bar top, your knees grazing against the table.
Two couples that were holding hands walked away from the pool tables, making a clear path for you to see. As you took another drink from the cold glass, you froze. Choking on your alcohol and tipping the glass over, spilling it all over the bar surface as the glass hit the ground and shattered into tiny pieces.
Holy shit. What stood across the bar was a sight that blinded you. You felt as if a car had just crashed into you, your insides completely wrecked. Joel. There he was in his favorite red plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his thick arms hugged the smooth material. Bulging veins covered his arms, his huge hands on each side of the pool table. Except they weren’t just on the pool table. He was leaning over some girl, and his hands were covering her waist.
You choked again on nothing, your throat constricting. She had big, blonde hair that was caked in hairspray. Her icy blue eyes fell over his face, a big red lipstick smile covering her mouth. Her double D’s were spilling out over her too small hot pink tank top. Her denim shorts were hiked up, almost showing her ass. She looked like the city slut, an instant sour taste entering your mouth.
Who the fuck did Joel Miller think he was taking out? Why was he with her? She was definitely not his type, but apparently you didn’t know what his type was anymore. It obviously wasn’t you.
Suddenly your short black dress felt too short, felt too tight as your chest suffocated against it. Your heels felt too tall, too uncomfortable. Your matted red lips felt dry, your throat barely catching any air. You swore you were about to get sick. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs or cry. Maybe you wanted to go pull out her fake bleach blonde extensions. You weren’t a violent person, but your insides were burning just watching her. Little miss give me attention getting ogled and touched by the Joel Miller. Give me a fucking break.
“You alright there, sweetheart? You broke your glass and look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” The sweet bartender was back in front of you, cleaning up the whiskey that you had spilt.
“I’m fine,” you said with gritted teeth, turning back to glance at just how close Joel was to the blonde bitch. Sliding his fingers over her thigh, teaching her exactly where to aim the cue stick on the table, leaning down against her. You were boiling alive inside, about to either run out of the bar or stand your ground and watch as jealousy burned through you.
“You don’t look fine to me,” he said carefully. “Now, what do you keep looking at huh?” He turned his head and looked in the direction of the pool tables. He spotted Joel and his new girl hovering over the pool table, all smiles and laughs. Pathetic.
“Oh, I see. You looking at that couple over there? He an old flame or something?”
“Something like that,” you said quietly, teeth still bared.
“That girl over there is named Brianna. She’s a frequent to this bar. I see her all the time with a different guy. She knows how to get around. She’s been coming with that one the past week though which is unusual. She usually doesn’t stick around that long before she’s on to the next guy.”
“That’s just lovely,” you said sarcastically with a scowl on your face.
“Hey, look at me a minute. Let me give you some advice,” he said gently.
You turned towards him and rested your elbows on the table, leaning in so you could hear him clearly.
“You’re really worried about that guy? Honey, this whole bar is after you. And there’s a guy on the end right over there that has had his eye on you ever since you stepped foot in here.” He pointed out a man at the end of the bar, sitting alone with a beer in his hand. He was good looking. Really good looking.
Tousled blonde hair with bright blue eyes and a jawline so sharp that it could kill. He was wearing dark faded jeans and a black button up, the top buttons undone and his tie loose. His sleeves were rolled up to expose a black intricate snake tattoo that ran up his entire arm. Whoa. Okay, this guy wasn’t just hot, he was sexy. Maybe even boyfriend material.
“Let me give you some advice. If you want to get over someone, you get under someone. And I bet if he saw you with that guy sitting at the bar, he’d be jealous as fuck. I know I would be. I don’t know what happened between you two, but he messed up. And it’s his loss. Now, why don’t you put on a pretty smile and wave him over. Make that other guy regret ever letting you go.”
You thought about his words, let them sink in as they flowed through your mind. Make him regret ever letting you go. Okay. You could do this. You could make him jealous. Easy. You already had Mr. blondie on a tight leash. All you had to do now was pull.
The bartender placed another whiskey and coke drink in front of you, replacing your broken one. You took a large gulp and placed it back on the table, getting your courage up. Let the games begin.
You smirked over to the hot blonde, batting your long eyelashes at him, coaxing him to come join you at the bar. He gave you a devilish grin and stood up from his barstool, slowly making his way over to you. When he made it over, he pulled out the barstool next to you and sat down carefully.
“Didn’t think I’d get your attention tonight,” he said with a smirk, his blue eyes piercing into you, making your stomach flutter with butterflies.
“And why’s that?” you asked with a laugh.
“Because you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”
You gulped at the compliment, turning just slightly so your knees could brush up against his, scooting the tiniest bit closer, your dress hiking up half an inch, exposing more thigh. He stared down at your legs, going over every inch with his eyes, sending chills down your spine. He really was attractive. He had that typical bad boy look, but he also looked sweet. Maybe even caring. Guess you’d have to find out.
“You’re sweet,” you said with a blush forming on your cheeks.
“I try. What’s your name?” he asked genuinely. You gave him your name, and he said it back with a lull in his voice. A sweet sound you could get used to. “I’m Alexander, but you can call me Alex for short.”
He had an accent. Definitely not from Texas. He sounded like he was maybe from another country. “You’re not from around here, are you?” you asked curiously.
“I’m from England originally, but I’ve lived in California most of my life. I just moved here a few months ago for work. Trying to start up a business here and get it going before I go back to California.”
“Wow, an English man. I always loved the English accents. They always sounded so romantic.” You placed a hand on his thigh, leaning in closer, batting your eyelashes up at him. His eyes went wide as you slid your hand just a bit higher, stopping just short of his zipper. Putting the flames to the test. He passed with flying colors.
He gently laid one of his hands against the small of your back, sinking it down just before he could graze your ass. You didn’t mind. This is what you wanted right? To get under someone and forget Joel. Make him jealous so he knew exactly how you were feeling right now.
You glanced back over to the pool table, and he was planting a kiss on her cheek, hugging her from behind as she held the cue stick in her hand, trying hard to concentrate on where to aim. You wanted to vomit, but you tore your eyes away from them and focused on the hot man that was sitting next to you.
“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you asked casually, trying not to let your anger slip out in your tone.
“I run a few tech companies. Nothing too big. Oh, but we’re partnered with Apple, so we’re kind of a big deal,” he said nonchalantly, brushing it off.
Your eyes widened as you snickered. “Apple is huge! You must be swimming in money.”
“Something like that,” he laughed back at your response.
You flirted back and forth for the next few minutes, taking in the sounds of rock and roll music flowing through the bar, finding things in common to talk about. You could see this was going well. And if it went really well then you’d be in his bed by midnight.
“So, uhh you think you want to go on a date sometime? Maybe this weekend?” he asked shyly.
“Is this not a date right now?” you asked, running your fingers lightly up his striking snake tattoo. You could feel the goosebumps start to spread over his arm. Your plan was going exactly how you wanted it to.
“I mean, I want to take you out to dinner. Maybe take you home with me also…” he said quietly, watching you closely to see your reaction.
“Oh, I think I’ll let you do both,” you said flirtatiously, leaning in closer to him, lips hanging just below his.
He didn’t stutter one bit. He sealed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. It was a hot, sticky kiss as he moved his hand down to your ass, opening your mouth to invite him in. His tongue connected with yours as it swirled around, tasting like vodka and whiskey mixed together. After a couple of minutes of intense making out, you broke the kiss, sitting back in your own bar stool.
As you went to turn to your drink, you saw dark eyes staring at you intensely from across the bar, right next to the pool tables. It was Joel, and he was mad. No, more than mad. He looked livid, fuming with rage. He was holding the cue stick so hard in his hands that it looked like it was about to snap in half.
You didn’t know what to feel. Remorse, jealousy, sadness, your feelings were all over the place. But you had to see this through. You wanted him to hurt just as much as he had hurt you while having to watch that slut of his fall all over him. But something like regret washed over your insides, making your stomach drop at what you just did.
Alexander leaned over and kissed you softly on the cheek, putting his hand dangerously close to the inside of your thigh, hiking your dress up even more. You squeezed your legs together, not wanting him to expose too much to anyone else.
Joel threw down the cue stick on the pool table and grabbed the blonde’s wrist, pulling her to the bar table. The same one you were at. Fuck.
He pulled out an empty seat for the girl and sat down next to her, sitting right across the table from you. His eyes were searing into yours, about to burn you alive. You tried to look down, but you could still feel his heavy gaze on you. He wouldn’t let up. He was brooding.
The room was becoming too hot. Your head was fuzzy from the warm alcohol and your cheeks were flushed. You hadn’t even had that much to drink, but the way Joel was looking at you now was making you scorch with heat. You needed a cold glass of water and now.
You waved down the bartender and asked for a water. He quickly got you a cold glass and placed it in front of you. You didn’t even say thanks, you were too preoccupied with calming the hell down. You threw your head back as you chugged the water down, hoping it’d help cool you off.
As soon as you finished the water and placed the glass back down, you realized it didn’t help at all. You were still too hot, feeling like you could crawl out of your skin at any moment. You looked back up at Joel, and he was now pushing the blonde’s hair back, exposing her neck as he placed a kiss against her collarbone. He looked straight at you the entire time he was doing it, his cold gaze burning through you. He was taunting you, showing off just what he could do with another woman.
You could feel the burning tears in the back of your eyes that were screaming to escape. You wanted so badly to break down into a puddle and cry, yell at him for ruining you, scream just how much you hated him in this moment for making you feel this way.
You couldn’t watch anymore. You had to get up and go. You couldn’t hold it together anymore. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment. I’ll be right back,” you said hurriedly to Alexander as you got up out of your seat and walked as fast as you could to the back of the building. You needed to be alone. Just for a few minutes. Until Joel got up and left the table.
You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not tonight anyways. After seeing him with that blonde, you realized just how not over him you were. You still cared way too much, even if what he just did tore you to bits. You had done the same to him though. You wanted to make him jealous, so you did. You got what you deserved. You just didn’t know it’d hurt this much.
You pushed yourself through the crowd, finding it harder to breathe. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, there were way too many people around. You just wanted to be left alone. Before you could make it through the long, dark hallway up ahead, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you ahead.
“Hey, stop! You can’t just…” You tried to yank your hand away until you realized just who had grabbed you. You turned to face them and realized it wasn’t just any random person. It was Joel. Oh no.
He pulled you into a large, lavish bathroom and locked the door, standing right in front of it so you couldn’t leave. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Joel, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hissed.
“I wanted to talk to you.” His eyebrows were furrowed together, his arms crossed over his chest as his thick arms hugged the plaid material.
“Right now? In the bathroom? No, I don’t think so. Now move so I can leave.” You tried to go around him, but he wouldn’t budge. He just stood in front of the lock, body unmoving.
You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t move. It’s like you were trying to get through a brick wall. “Joel, I mean it. Get out of my way,” you said with more force.
“No! Not until you talk to me,” he yelled, eyes glaring at you.
You huffed and threw your arms up, backing up. “Fine, whatever. You want to talk, then let’s talk.” You crossed your arms and matched his energy, cocking your hip out to lean on.
“What the hell was that out there?” he asked angrily, his nostrils flaring.
“What was what?”
“You making out with that asshole. He was all over you, practically had his goddamn hands up your skirt,” he spit with rage.
“Oh no, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to jump down my back when you were all over that blonde slut.”
“Oh, I was not.”
“Bull shit! I saw it with my own eyes!” you screamed, irritated with him already.
“I wasn’t touching her nearly as much as that fucker was touching you.” He was searing at you, eyes blazing fumes. He was jealous as fuck.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” you asked in disbelief, eyes growing wider.
“So what if I am? You’re jealous of that blonde girl I was with too. Admit it. You were only trying to make me jealous to prove a point.”
“You arrogant son of a bitch, I was not!”
“So did you come here with him tonight or was he just some cheap shot you found at the bar?”
That was it. You weren’t doing this. You had had enough. “Move,” you demanded, putting your hands into fists at your side.
“No,” he said with finality. “Not until we finish talking.”
“God, you’re so infuriating! Look, if I knew you’d be here tonight I wouldn’t have even come here. The last thing I wanted to see was you all over a dumb bitch who doesn’t even know how to hold a cue stick correctly.”
“And you think I wanted to see you making out with a selfish prick who just wanted to take you home for the night and never call you again after?”
You clenched your jaw after that comment, hands balled at your side, wanting nothing more than to slap him across the face. “Why should you even care? We’re over! I thought the breakup was mutual. Why should you care if I’m trying to move on the best I can?”
“By getting under a man you don’t even know?” His eyebrows were raised, a look of anger taking hold on his features.
You held up your hand, frustration taking its hold over you. “Don’t even say anything because I know you’ve probably already slept with your new blonde toy.”
“So what if I have?! Not like you care.”
That hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart sinking at the thought of those two in bed together. You wanted to be sick, wanted to throw up every ounce of alcohol you took in. You kept it in though, holding on to your dignity.
You walked over and shoved him against the door, taking out your growing frustration on him. Wanting to do it again and again until all the hurt left your body. “Oh, I do care. More than I’d like to admit,” you stammered out, almost losing your footing on the floor.
Joel grabbed your wrist tight, preventing you from backing up. “Let go,” you said with a tight jaw.
“First tell me why exactly you were all over that guy tonight.” He was looking down at you harshly, something shifting in his eyes the more he looked at you.
“I was just having fun. I thought he might be nice and..”
“You’re lying,” he said with a locked jaw, eyes hounding you as he didn’t let up on his grip around you.
“Fine, you win! I was flirting with him to make you jealous because I couldn’t stand to see you with little miss attention!” Your voice was raised, a faint cry getting stuck in your throat. He released you from his grip and let you take a step back.
“I knew it,” he said proudly, slicking his dark hair with grey streaks back. Watching how his fingers slid so easily through it, remembering all the times you got to do that. Wanting nothing more than to be able to run your fingers through that messy hair that you always thought was so sexy.
“Congratu-fucking-lations. Want a prize or something?” you sneered.
“Hey now, don’t be like that.”
“How do you expect me to be, Joel? I haven’t talked to you in weeks. Hell, I’ve been doing the best I can. I had a really shitty week at work, and this was just the icing on the cake! So thank you so much for that, I sincerely hope you’re happy!” you shouted as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms again.
“No, I’m not happy,” he grimaced, tightening up his fingers one by one.
“Oh, really? Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t fucking stand watching another guy that wasn’t me be with you!”
Oh. You wanted to fall apart at how Joel was looking at you now. He was breathing hard, and you swear you saw tears start to form in his eyes. “Joel, I…”
“I’ve spent weeks trying to get over you. It didn’t matter what I did or who I went out with, none of them were you. I have nightmares all the time. Ones where you’re always wrapped up beside me in bed, and I’ll wake up and you aren’t there. Or ones where some other guy is in your bed, taunting me from across the room. It was all just a dream though. So I did what I had to do to try to forget about you, but nothing worked. So excuse me for trying to get over you with her.” He sounded defeated. A sad lullaby that wanted to be put to sleep.
He relaxed his eyes, sadness closing in on him. Oh, Joel. “That night of the fight, why didn’t you go after me?” you asked quietly, barely able to keep your head up, doing everything in you to keep hold with his eyes.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to…” he said quietly, eyes looking down at the ground as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket, the other one hanging loosely to his side.
“I did. And you never came after me. You didn’t call. I was waiting for you to, but you never did,” you said with a shaky breath, holding back tears.
“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again,” he said with sad eyes, his eyes turning a warm honey color. You wanted to melt into those eyes. Wanted to bleed into them until you couldn’t see anymore.
“No, that’s not true…I…I don’t even remember what we were fighting about now. It was stupid, dumb, whatever it was. And look where it led us. To this exact spot. Making each other crazy with jealousy. All for what? To hurt each other? To get back at one another? Because that’s not what I wanted. That’s never what I wanted,” you said as you brushed a stray tear away, blinking away anymore that were about to fall.
“Hey, it’s okay…” He reached out a hand and wiped another tear away, lingering his fingers on your cheek. You closed your eyes and took in his gentle touch, remembering every single touch he ever gave you.
You took a step back, away from his reach. The warmth from his touch turned into a cold, vacant feeling. Wanting nothing more than to seep back into his warmth. He took a step forward, but you took one more back. “You never gave me the chance to get over you…” you whispered quietly, your voice coming out hoarse.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry…” He looked so sincere, sadness dripping off all his features. There was no more anger left. It was only replaced with longing and apologies.
He walked towards you, and you let him this time. He stopped in front of you, pulling back a lock of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, wanting to sink into it.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered gently against your ear. And there it was. That one word that you had been waiting to hear again. A hushed lull that could hum you to sleep.
“You…you still love me?” you asked in a daze, confused.
“That’s right. I still love you.”
“Then why didn’t you fucking fight for me? I was waiting for you to chase me out that door, come stop me and tell me not to go. But you didn’t! I was waiting, Joel. I was waiting and you never came for me!” You were broken. Tears spilled downing your face as your vision got blurry.
Joel didn’t waste a second as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t break free. You just cried into his chest as he held you, trying to soothe you as he took a hand and gently slid it up and down your back. Taking away all your pain.
“I love you…” you whispered quietly, enough for him to hear.
“I know, baby. I know. I should’ve never let you go…” With that he kissed the top of your head and held you tighter, not wanting to break apart from you.
You felt a sense of relief. You were back in Joel’s arms. Back to where you really wanted to be. You didn’t want Alexander. You wanted Joel. He was home, and he always would be. You don’t think you could ever stop loving him. Because what the two of you had was something you never felt before. It was beautiful and was something that shouldn’t be broken.
You stayed in his embrace till all your tears dried up, slowly backing up to look up into his beautiful face. His eyes were the color of hazelnut coffee, and he had the most apologetic look on his face.
“Let me make it up to you. I want to show you just how sorry I am,” he said gently, catching the edge of your wrist.
“And how are you going to do that?” you asked, questioning him.
“By showing you exactly how I feel about you…”
Before you could say anything, he crashed his lips against yours. It wasn’t just any kind of a kiss. It was a desperate, starving kiss as he pulled you closer, pressing you up against the wall. You sank into his velvet lips, chasing his whiskey taste you so desperately loved. You opened your mouth, and his tongue shot in, chasing yours as it engulfed you. He tasted so sweet, his whiskey and spice flavor enveloping your throat.
He bit your bottom lip and slowly released it, quickly finding your neck as he sunk his mouth down on the most sensitive spot that rested above your collarbone. You choked out a moan as he grazed his teeth along your neckline, sending a pool of slick against your now drenched panties.
He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, running a hand against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your throbbing center. He dropped down again to your neck, sucking so hard that he’d surely leave a mark. You ran a hand up through his tousled hair, and he groaned as you dug your nails into his scalp.
He brought his face up to your level and rested his forehead against yours, still slowly slithering his fingers up and down your thigh, making you squirm with anticipation. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show them just who you belong to.”
“Tell me who I belong to,” you gasped out.
“Me,” he growled. He slammed his mouth into yours again and brought his hand higher on your thigh, digging into the sides of your scrunched up panties. He lifted your dress above your hips, exposing your drenched center. You bit down on his lip as he teased you, running his fingers lightly over your pulsing core, sending more slick running down.
“Jesus, baby. You’re already so fucking wet for me.”
“Mhmm,” you moaned out as he slipped a hand inside the wet material, sliding through your folds and circling your clit firmly. You felt hot pulsing desire run through your core as he made you wetter from the touch of his calloused fingers.
“Joel…” you moaned out as he placed more pressure on your throbbing clit, wanting more, needing more.
“What’s that, darlin’?” he smirked, a devilish grin ghosting over his lips.
“I need more,” you begged, moving your hips up so you could grind against his sticky fingers.
“More what?” he asked with an edge to his voice, his dark eyes honing into yours.
“I need more of…more…” He slowly pushed two fingers inside you, pressing his palm against your aching clit. “Fuck!” you breathed out, your voice shaky from the friction.
“That’s what I thought.” He smirked as he fell to his knees and pulled down your panties, placing them inside the pocket of his jeans.
“I missed you, baby. Missed your long legs.” He ran a hand up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “Missed your smell.” He grabbed one of your legs and put it over his shoulder, running his tongue up your inner thigh and stopping right before he got to your pulsing center.
“Missed your taste…” He took his tongue and ran it all the way up the center of your folds, covering his tongue in your slick. You moaned out in response, and he took it as a reward. “That’s my girl. Now hold on tight. Gonna give you just what you deserve.”
With that he lapped up more slick, quickly finding your clit as he circled and circled you, making your head dizzy from the building heat. He was sucking and pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth, making your legs shake against him.
He slid two fingers inside you and pumped in and out, flicking your clit back and forth with his tongue. You grabbed a hold of his hair hard and pulled his head up higher. His eyes were staring into yours intensely. His coffee colored eyes were now full blown black pits as he was devouring you. It was the hottest most intimate thing you ever saw, making more slick appear between your legs.
“Joel…I’m close…I’m…” you groaned out, bucking your hips higher, needing more of him.
“Want you to come for me, baby. Want you to spill all over my mouth. Want to taste just how sweet you are…” He was pumping his fingers faster inside you, putting more pressure on your clit with his tongue as he ran it up and down, nice and slow.
You were squeezing your leg around him, pulling him closer to you as you could barely take anymore. The pressure was building and building inside your core. So much that you were about to release it all, let it spill all over Joel’s tongue.
“Come for me,” he commanded. He pulled your clit inside his mouth and sucked hard, breaking that seal that was holding in all your pressure. And you were done for. You released your orgasm as a low moan escaped your mouth, coating your inner thighs with hot stickiness.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised as he lapped up all the slick from your throbbing center and thighs, leaving no trace left behind. He placed your leg back on the ground gently and stood up from his knees, placing his hands around your waist to balance you from your intense orgasm.
You took a few seconds to uncloud your mind, come back down from the wave of bliss you’d just been on. You needed more. Wanted more. And you knew what you wanted to do next. You wanted to taste him.
You slowly lowered your hands to his belt, undoing the buckle and feeling his growing bulge through his jeans. He groaned as you traced your hand against his length, wanted so bad to make him feel just as good as he had made you feel.
“I think it’s my turn to taste you now. I want you to remember just how good I can make you feel.” You lowered yourself slowly to the ground, unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his ankles along with his black briefs.
You stared up at the growing erection that was planted firmly against his stomach, precum glistening on his tip. You wrapped your hand around his massive width and slid up and down his long length, squeezing just the slightest. He groaned in response as he stared down at you with dilated pupils. “I want you to know who blows you the best. Not that blonde girl. ME,” you said possessively.
“Fucking feral, darlin’. I love it. Now, show me just how good you can take this cock,” he said greedily.
You smirked up at him as you licked his tip, circling all his sensitive areas. “Fuckkk,” he moaned as you yanked up and down his shaft, licking precum off his tip. You slowly took him in your mouth, taking him in as far as you could go, gagging on his large length. He was big, but you knew just how to take him. Knew exactly how to make him feel good. It was like clockwork, you knew him that well.
You continued sliding your mouth over him, tasting the saltiness coat your tongue. A flavor you revelled in. He grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you forward, driving deeper into your throat until he was touching the very back, gagging and choking on him. A sound you loved hearing because you were driving him wild, sending him over the edge with your throat.
Tears stung your eyes as they ran down your face, drool pooling down your chin as he slammed back into you, mouth fucking you aggressively. “Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he groaned with force in his words, enjoying every second of your mouth on him. Your hands your planted firmly on the back of his thighs, holding on for dear life as you choked on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, something you could get drunk on.
A few more thrusts to your mouth and he was releasing you and pulling your chin up to look at him, taking that long breath that you needed. He wiped the tears from your eyes and cleaned off the drool that was coating the edges of your mouth.
“Look at you, you’re a mess,” he said as he clicked his tongue with a smirk on his face, wiping once more under your eyes.
“I’m a mess for you,” you answered quietly, staring up into honey eyes that were turning darker by the second.
“That’s right. My mess,” he said aggressively. “Now c’mere, I’m not done with you yet.”
He pulled you up from the floor and took you over to the counter, placing your hands on the edge of the sink as he bent you over, facing directly in front of the mirror. He placed his hands over your fingers and put a leg in between yours, pushing your thighs further apart with his foot. You gulped as he kept his foot there, unable to move your legs at all. It was seductive, intimate, and hot as hell.
He leaned over your shoulder and put his mouth right next to your ear, grazing his lips against the sensitive skin. You whimpered when you saw just how he was looking at you in the mirror. The look of lust, desire, pure want, and need in his eyes. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so hungry for you. A hunger he’d go feral for until he ate up every single inch of you. Slick pooled at your center at the mere thought of it. Fuck.
He took his tongue and ran it up your neck slowly, stopping every couple of inches to kiss and caress your skin that was aching for his touch. You angled your neck towards him, wanting more. Needing that hunger as much as he did.
“Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna show you just who you belong to.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up higher so your eyes were staring into the mirror. “Eyes on me. I want you to watch. I want you to moan my name, I want the entire bar to know you’re mine,” he growled. It was possessive, jealous, dominant. And it was erotic as hell.
He slid the tip of his cock over your folds, collecting the slick and making himself thoroughly wet. You whimpered as he slid into you slowly, driving another moan out of you as your walls squeezed around his thick width.
“That’s right, baby. Takin’ me so good. Takin’ me like the good fucking girl you are,” he growled. He slid one hand in front of you and pulled down your dress, exposing your hard, pebbled breasts as he grabbed at them, thumbs digging into you. He then sunk his mouth down on your shoulder and bit. Teeth bared like he was a vampire coming in for the kill. Marking his territory. Claiming you. Making you feel like you were on cloud nine as he rammed into you over and over again. Feeding your aching core, increasing your hot wave of desire that was building inside you.
He was staring seductively at you in the mirror, black pits bleeding into your eyes, making you lose control of how insanely hot you were in the room. The smell of sex was everywhere. Mahogany, whiskey, and dripping bodies filled the air, making you light headed and dizzy.
“Joel…” you moaned as he circled your clit, hearing the wet, sticky sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, corrupting all form of coherent thoughts you were having.
“Atta girl. Say it again. I wanna hear it. Say that you’re mine. Look at me with that pretty face and repeat it back to me.”
He pressed harder on your clit and pulled your hair tighter, making you gasp at how dominant he was being. Making you want to come undone just by the deep growl in his voice.
You moaned as it was all too much. You were about to shatter yourself all over him. “Joel…I’m yours.”
“Repeat it!” he growled into your ear, staring ravenously back at you in the mirror, his hand digging into your hip.
“I’m yours, I’m all yours!” you screamed out, fighting everything in your body to just hold on a few seconds more.
“That’s my good girl. Now come for me.” He sped up his circles on your throbbing mound and pressed down hard, drawing a line down your entire clit. That did it. You were rolling your eyes back and coming hard for him. You clenched up around him and released yourself on him, coating his cock in wet sticky slick.
“Goddamn, baby. Feels…so…good,” he moaned as he pushed up into you a couple more times, then he was making that sexy orgasmic face as his eyebrows furrowed together and pushed your hips into the counter. He was spilling his seed inside you, saturating your walls and calling your name. Your name sounded like a melodic lull against his deep voice. Entrancing in itself.
He stayed like that for a few more seconds then slowly slid out of you, letting his seed slip down your thighs, coating it all in white. It was warm, messy, and it was him claiming you, all of you.
He turned you around to face him, gently placing one hand around your hip and the other brushing stray locks of hair behind your ear. He slowly leaned down and kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek with a feather-like touch. It was so gentle that you wanted to fall into him, stay in his arms where it was warm and safe. Where you felt most at home.
He lifted your chin and traced your face with his thumb softly, looking at you like you were a diamond in the rough. It made your insides tingle, a wave of admiration and longing hitting you hard as he stared at you with those warm honey eyes that made you melt.
“I missed you so much…” he whispered as he ghosted his lips over yours. Making you drink in his whiskey breath and mahogany cologne. Your two favorite scents because that was his trademark. Your choice of ecstasy.
“Not as much as I missed you.” You took your hand and ran it through his salt and pepper beard slowly. He seemed to like it cause he groaned and leaned into your touch, looking at you with endearment and tenderness.
A faint smile spread on his lips at your statement. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before we go back out there,” he laughed as he adjusted your dress and helped you clean off the sticky mess in between your thighs. He pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt, fixing his tousled hair.
You quickly ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame the messy sex hair the best you could. You tried to reach into his pocket for your panties, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you fast, clicking his tongue at you. “Oh no, you’re not getting these back right now. They’re stayin’ with me,” he smirked with darkening eyes.
“I can’t go back out there with nothing under my dress. What if people see?” you pouted with wide eyes, not wanting to leave the bathroom till you had something on.
“They’re not gonna see cause we’re leaving, now,” he said adamantly, sliding his hand down from your wrist to your hand, entangling his fingers with yours. It felt so good, so warm, so right.
“But what about your date?” you asked hesitantly, lowering your voice.
“Look at me,” he said firmly, grabbing your chin. “I don’t give a fuck about her. We’re leaving, now. You and me. Not her.”
“Where are we going?” you asked with questions in your eyes as he dropped his hand from your chin.
“We’re going home.”
“Home? Are you taking me back home to my place?”
“No, baby. You’re going home with me,” he said gently.
Oh. “You’re taking me back to your place…?” Your voice carried off into the distance, not believing what you just heard.
“Yes, where else would I be taking you?”
“I don’t know. I thought…”
“You’re going home with me, period. I’m not letting you go again. So c’mon, let’s go.”
“Okay.”
As you walked out of the bathroom, a gentle smile spread across your lips. You had done it. You got him back. He still wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It was almost surreal. You thought for sure you would’ve ended the night at Alexander’s house, but you’re glad that wasn’t the case because you would’ve just been sulking over Joel the entire time.
He pulled you through the crowded bar, making space for you to pass as he kept a hold on your hand, pulling you into his chest as he grazed his hand over your hip and pushed you forward. Making sure no one else was able to touch you.
As you passed the bar, you saw Brianna staring wide eyed with an open mouth at the two of you. She looked pissed and she tried calling Joel’s name, but he didn’t even turn his head. He didn’t care about her. He was back with you now. Every ounce of jealousy that you had toward her was gone because he was yours. She didn’t get to have him anymore. You smirked at her, letting her know you had won.
A few more steps and you were passing Alexander. Joel glared daggers at him as you passed him by. He was letting him know that you were his, and he didn’t appreciate when he had been touching you. You mouthed sorry, and all he did was shake his head and take a stiff drink from his cup, looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t care anymore. He was just a placeholder, a vacant spot until you got what you wanted. Joel.
Joel walked you to his white Chevy and opened the door for you, helping you in so you wouldn’t trip over your tall heels. As soon as you got in, he closed the door and went over to the driver side and got in, starting up the hum of the truck as the engine came to life.
You remembered it just like it was yesterday. His soft velvety seats, the smell of cigarettes and wood filling the inside, his favorite bands playing softly against the stereo. He turned up Pearl Jam, and it was just as you remembered. This was what peace felt like. You were content, finally.
As he started driving, he threw an arm over the back of the seat, coaxing you to join him. He looked over at you with those calm brown eyes and nodded his head, wanting you to scoot over by him.
You smiled shyly and slid over to sit beside him, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder as he placed his arm around you, grazing against your arm with his calloused fingers.
This was what home felt like. He was home. And that’s where you were going. Back to his house, with him. And this time you wouldn’t run out, you wouldn’t let him go. You’d stay forever. Right in his arms. Right where you felt most at home. His. As much as he was yours. Two pieces that fit together perfectly, and that’s where you’d stay. Until the end of time.
#joel miller#joel tlou#joel x you#joel the last of us#joel x reader#joel x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#jealousy#a03 fanfic#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#dom!joel miller#possessive Joel#joel miller fic#no outbreak!joel miller#no use of y/n#joel miller pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction
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solace | joshua hong
pairing: non-idol!joshua (svt) x fem!reader
notes: slice of life, fluff, bit of swearing, pet names ft. seventeen, domestic lyf , the one where reader isn’t aware that their definition of comfort is joshua hong— really just self-indulgent because i’ve had a rough week at work.
word count: 2.8k
summary: joshua hong, no matter how busy life can get, will always set aside time for you. no matter where you two both are, what time it was— comfort exists in the mould of him.
joshua hong is solace, personified.
playlist | shuahoonie masterlist
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life hasn’t been extremely kind to you. first week in your new job and it has already made your life a living hell.
“i mean it’s only been a week,” you said over the phone, trying to appease yourself that maybe it’s just a bad day “maybe it’s just something that i need to get used to.”
you literally just clocked off work when joshua sent you a message, asking how your day was. always like an angel, always in perfect timing.
work was starting to get frustrating and you considered quitting too, but talking to joshua made it bearable for you.
he would send you messages in the morning, would try calling you during your lunch breaks. and if he has time, he would try to visit your place or he would ask you to come over to his.
and when you replied to his text with a sole sad smiley face, he immediately called you.
never in your life would you have expected for shua to be so patient when it came to you, even more so to the people he deeply cared about.
“i don’t know, love,” there are noises on the other side of his line “you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”
“is that yn? tell yn i miss her!” you can hear jeonghan yell on the other line, making you laugh.
“no, tell her yourself!” joshua whines childishly on the other line “it’s my time to be on the phone with her.”
“it’s always your time on the phone with her!” jeonghan whines back. there were a couple of indiscernible words before you heard the phone being passed. “yn!” jeonghan manages to steal the phone from joshua “i miss you! you don’t visit us anymore.”
“had a tough week, bub.” you say softly “i’ll make sure to visit when i have time.”
“how come joshua always gets to see you?” you could feel that han was pouting. “even when we have meetings that run late…” he mutters the latter part but you caught it loud and clear.
“he’s always checking up on me, han,” you whispered all of a sudden, feeling shy. “i actually don’t know how he does it.”
“i know how,” jeonghan says in a teasing manner before you heard the phone being snatched again.
“lovey,” joshua coos “do you want me to call you as soon as you get home?”
“you’ve been really fond of that nickname, huh,” you teased shua, but you could feel yourself turning red.
“only because we’re each other’s lovey,” he murmurs over the phone. “but do you?”
“it’s okay, lovey,” you said, fighting back a smile as you entered the busy subway. “i’m on the train now, i’ll talk to you later.”
“okay, text me when you get home,” joshua says on the other line. “love you.”
you hummed and said “love you too” softly before hanging up.
the train ride home was enough to make you feel numb— maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe it was a bustling friday night. whatever it was, it’s enough for you to forget about the resentment you felt from your job.
with your airpods in, you endured the ride home listening to the curated playlist that you and joshua curated.
you were aware of how your music taste differed from each other— so when home by one direction played, you were a little startled. it’s almost as if you accidentally added the song on the queue.
a small smile was practically tattooed on your face when you saw that it was joshua who added the song to the playlist.
you must’ve done something good in your past life because you can’t possibly think of a reason for you to have joshua hong in this life.
“love you?” jeonghan teases joshua, making him roll his eyes. “what’s the deal with you and yn again?”
“we’re friends, han,” joshua says as he walks over to the other side of jeonghan’s place to grab his water bottle that he left on the kitchen counter.
jeonghan has been friends with joshua for years— he knows when joshua’s trying to avoid something.
“yeah, i know,” jeonghan says following joshua “i mean i’m friends with yn too, but i don’t text nor call her every day.”
“maybe because you just suck at using your phone,” joshua teased han, hoping that his friend would drop the conversation.
“says the guy that barely responds the group chat and has over 500 unread messages?” jeonghan shots back, amused at shua’s insinuation. “face it, shua, ynnie is—“
“she’s special,” shua finishes. “everything just feels lighter around her, you know.”
“ahuh,” jeonghan agrees in a low hum, watching joshua’s expression turn bright as he receives a text update from you. jeonghan knew what joshua felt about you, he’s just unsure if his friend knew it himself. “i know.”
you and joshua have been friends for a little while now— and your friendship with him had stood the test of time. it seemed like it was too good to be true, because he came to your life when everything felt hazy.
you moved to a new place all by yourself, not knowing anyone, trying not to cry as you dropped a piece of kimbap on the convenience store floor— then comes joshua, who happens to be at the very same convenience store and saw how you stared at the piece of kimbap on the floor for a while.
that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap.
joshua, who was supposed to only buy a quick snack, unconsciously chose to sit and eat at the convenience store instead.
he sat a few chairs away from you, eating his ramen quietly while he watched you pick clean up the mess you made.
after you finished cleaning up— and quietly cursing the universe as today wasn’t going well— you sat back down, fighting back the tears from your eyes and continued to eat your lukewarm ramen.
joshua heard your quiet sniffles while you were eating. he didn’t want to be invasive and ask you if you were okay, but he could sense that you were having a rough day.
joshua has always had a knack when it comes to people— he would always get a sense of what they’re feeling.
he quietly slides you the extra kimbap that he bought for later and says, “i accidentally bought an extra one and i’ll probably forget about it in my fridge if i take it home.” a lie, of course.
as soon as your gaze reaches his, you bursted out crying— which definitely caught shua by surprise.
not knowing exactly what to do, he sat next to you and carefully patted your back every now and then.
“sorry,” you said in between tears, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “i don’t know what came over me.”
“hey, it’s okay,” joshua says comfortingly “you’re okay.”
you hurriedly wiped your tears with your hands, however, it seemed that your tears aren’t quite done yet.
“oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you said, tilting your head back— fanning yourself as you tried to stop yourself from crying. “it’s just a really rough day.”
“it’s okay, you’re safe here,” he gives you a reassuring smile “sometimes, we just really need to let it all out for everything to start making sense again.”
that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap— the universe gave you both.
as soon as you got off the train station, a familiar physique was leaning against one of the pillars— arms crossed with a bright smile plastered on their face.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised to see him at the station. “weren’t you supposed to be on a date?”
“we see each other at the office everyday,” he scoffed, easily grabbing your tote bag and casually puts on his shoulder. he’s so used to doing it, it’s feasible at this point. “and it’s just with jeonghan. he can live without me, so i left.”
“so, are you saying that i can’t live without you?” you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughs, almost pleased that of your insinuation.
“maybeee,” he practically sings. “c’mon, do you wanna get something to eat?”
“i thought you and jeonghan already ate?” you asked him, linking your arm with his.
“we had snacks,” joshua answers “what do you want to do, love? do you want to eat out or should we just get take out and eat at yours?”
“my place?!” you gasped “i thought we were going to your apartment this time?”
“you have a comfier couch,” joshua mumbles as he pulls away from your linked arms, quietly slipping his fingers in between yours instead. you can’t deny that physical touch brings you comfort— rather, joshua brings you comfort.
“then why did you get that ugly ass white couch then?”
“it’s cute and you know it,” joshua pouts “plus it works well with my living room interior.”
“babe, it’s solid as a rock.”
“so if we ever move in together, you’d force me to throw it out?!”
you practically choked on his statement. “move in?! who said anything about moving in?”
“i think it’s bound to happen anyway,” joshua says casually. “didn’t we make a pact when we were 23?”
“i thought that was just the alcohol talking,” you said quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“i meant every word i said,” joshua smiles at you— the kind that makes your heart beat a little faster, the kind that makes your insides melt. “but i’m also more than happy to yield, if you’re retracting your statement.”
“if we’re 30, and have not found any significant others, should we just get married?” you asked shua after finishing your second bottle of soju.
“i thought you don’t believe in marriages,” shua teases, resting his chin on his dominant hand. his eyes were sparkling in anticipation.
“i don’t,” you smiled at him “but if it’s with you, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“okay,” joshua says softly “as long as you’re okay with it, then i’m happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”
you smiled upon hearing what joshua said. “yeah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, joshua hong.”
“great because i’ve already pictured the perfect proposal.”
you and joshua were quietly eating dinner back at your place— sitting on the living room floor, backs pressed against the couch, with modern family playing in the background.
shua was watching you the whole time as you ate your tteokbokki with a mindless look on your face. he knew that you were checked out and he felt bad that nothing could lift up your spirits.
you were painfully exhausted that you can’t even enjoy your comfort food with your comfort show.
you caught joshua staring at you as you nibbled rice cake slowly. “what?”
“do you want to talk about it?” he asks you softly.
“talk about what?” you feigned innocence. to be fair, you weren’t in the mood to talk about work and the last thing you want was to pester shua with your work rants too.
“c’mon, yn,” he pats the space between you two, urging you to sit closer to him. “you know you can tell me anything, right?”
“mhm,” you hummed as you placed your chopsticks down and snuggled closer to shua— your head resting on the crook of his neck. “i’m just tired,” you say quietly.
“i know, my love,” he whispers, knowing that you weren’t just physically tired. shua knew that your new job was taking everything from you and you didn’t want to make it seem like it is. “i wish there’s something that i can do to make you feel better.”
you lifted your head to turn towards shua. “you’re already doing great, bub,” you said with a fond smile. “having you here with me is enough,” you hummed.
joshua returned the smile, pulling you closer to him— if it was even possible. you two sat in silence, tucked under shua’s embrace.
you’ve always found comfort within joshua hong. when people ask you what he is in your life, you would smile and tell them that he’s your comfort person.
“so, like the love of your life?” ichan asks with a confused look, not really understanding your answer.
“sure, something like that.”
“are you two dating then?” he asks as you two wait for your work computer to finish updating.
“nope.”
“but he’s always at your beck and call?” he clarifies and you nodded. “god, you two are confusing.” chan mutters, leaning back at the office chair.
you laughed. “babe, you’re just saying that because you haven’t met the person who makes you feel comfortable.”
chan playfully scoffs at your comment and says “well, i’m sorry if i haven’t met my soulmate at a convenience store.”
soulmates. maybe joshua hong is your soulmate.
“shuji,” you called his name softly, resting your chin on top of his shoulder.
“hm?” joshua hums as it prompts him to turn his head and look at you— the distance between your faces were unbearably close. “you know i hate that nickname right?”
“i know,” you answered, not moving from your position. “but you still let me call you that.” your chin planted on his shoulder as you practically bit every word that came out of your mouth.
joshua laughs because you’re right. he hates it when people call him that and yet, he doesn’t mind when you do it.
joshua’s attention was back to the tv, watching the modern family episode when mitch and cam got married.
you removed yourself from joshua’s embrace—propping your elbow on the table and resting your head against your hand. you couldn’t help but watch joshua— having him here next you was nothing new but you still can’t believe that someone like him would be so patient around you.
there’s definitely a sense of selfishness that boils inside you. you want joshua to stay in your life forever, but that’s not possible. especially if he finds a significant other.
“yn,” shua calls your name softly, eyes still glued at the tv. “is my face really that great to look at?” he asked teasingly. you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “because ahjumma gave me extra fishcakes because of that.”
“and i thank you because of that,” you grinned.
joshua turns to you, mirroring your position as he props his elbow on the table and rests his head against his hand as well.
“what’s bothering you, my lovey?” shua asks as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“do you love me?” you asked joshua. a bold move on your part— but you only did it because he can either spin it as something strictly platonic or it can become something more.
he wasn’t even caught off-guard. instead, he smiles at your question— as if it was just a normal and casual thing to ask. “i do,” joshua answers because it’s true. “i think i love you a little too much.”
“how much?”
“like i would let you run the ac on full blast,” joshua mutters with a smile on his face, playing with the ends of your hair.
you let out a small gasp, “really?”
“really.”
“but you hate getting cold,” you pointed out.
“yeah, but you love the cold— like right now, it’s freezing here,” joshua laughs as he pulls the sleeves of his hoodie further.
“shit, i didn’t even notice—“ you were about to stand up to turn down the ac but shua pulls you back down.
“it’s okay,” he says softly, “c’mere." joshua pulls you closer to him, similar to the position you were in earlier. this time though, you're sitting between his legs— your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
“shua, let me turn the ac down,” you said, trying to get up but he tightens his arms around you— briefly forgetting how big shua’s arms has gotten.
“no,” he whines childishly “just stay here with me,” he mumbles in your ear. “you’re very warm.”
“i think that’s why i feel hot all the time,” you said nestling in his arms.
“yeah,” joshua chuckles “but i also think you’re a very warm person, ynnie.”
“hm?”
“yeah, i mean you make every room brighter, ynnie. you make everything feel as if you’re the calm in this chaotic world. if i could keep you by my side at all times, i’d do it.”
you rolled your eyes playfully “now, you’re just making fun of me.”
“i’m not,” joshua rests his chin on the top of your head “why do you think jeonghan and seungkwannie kept asking for you?”
“i think it’s because i feed them,” you joked, making joshua snort.
“trust me yn, if i can keep you all to myself, i would.”
“so why don’t you?”
hi hi friends! i know i've been mia, but ya gurl is working 2 jobs now 🥲 as much as i would love to write frequently, i end up only writing a couple of words here and there— and that's when i'm not immediately passed out. i hope u all understand! ♡
#joshua hong x reader#joshua hong scenarios#joshua hong fluff#joshua hong imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#svt joshua#svt x reader#svt x you#svt x y/n#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt fanfic#joshua hong fic#shuahoonie writes
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Ready?
..
Genre: Fluff and Smut
Pairings: Jungwon x Female bodied reader
A/N: I was so drained last week at school and I wrote the first part of this ff on my notes as a way to comfort myself. But, somehow, it turned into smut lmao. Anyways, the smut part is written amateurly because idrk how to write smut lol.
MINORS DNI
---
You'd had enough of today; everything seemed to be against you, and your life had never felt as miserable as it did today. Upon returning home, all you wanted was to wallow in your room, skip dinner, and call it a rough day. However, your boyfriend had other plans.
"Love?" Worry was etched on your boyfriend's face as he saw your downtrodden expression peeking through your bedroom door. You dragged your backpack behind you and let out a deep sigh as you immediately collapsed onto the bed, groaning as your sore muscles finally began to relax after about 8 hours of tension. You looked up at Jungwon, who was still staring at you intently.
"Sorry, love. I'm so tired," you said with a guilty smile. You could see his worry dissipate into thin air, replaced by sympathy. "Have you eaten yet? How did you get into my room? Does Mom know you're here?" you asked.
"No. Yes, and yes," Jungwon muttered slowly as he made his way towards you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around your waist and then flipped you over, positioning himself on top of your back. For a brief moment, a flicker of alarm crossed your eyes, but it quickly subsided when you felt his warm and delicate palms start to massage your back. He kneaded lightly, almost feather-light, but somehow, you could feel it resonating throughout your entire body. You let out a satisfied groan. "Did you think I was about to do something else?" he teased, continuing to massage you.
"For a second, yes." You answered in all honesty.
Jungwon coughed, obviously taken aback by your answer. "Really?" he asked and you nodded. "Okay. So... Tell me about your day," he changed the topic quickly, humming softly.
You sighed, recalling everything that had happened today.
"Well, for starters, our Physics class was so challenging. I barely managed to grasp today's lesson." You paused briefly, groaning in pleasure. You squirmed slightly under Jungwon's touch and motioned for him to stop because you knew he was tired too, but he nodded reassuringly, letting you know he was more than happy to help you relax even a little. You smiled gratefully. "Next, we had three exams earlier, and I barely slept last night. Plus, tomorrow, we have an oral recitation in Chemistry and a practical exam in Biology. For our Social Science activity, I'm the group leader and for Calculus as well. I'm so tired, love." You were doing your best to hold back a whimper, especially as you felt Jungwon's grip tighten further in worry. You knew it wasn't the end of the world, but it certainly felt that way. Being a straight-A student who wasn't naturally gifted and needed time and doubled effort to actually understand concepts and lessons was both pressuring and hard.
"Do you want some ice cream, Love?" Jungwon cooed, slowly turning you over and leaving a trail of kisses from your forehead down to your jaw. He gazed down at you with his feline-like eyes. He rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hands, pulling your hands closer to his face and affectionately placing them next to his cheeks. "I'm sorry. You're still so young, but you hardly get to enjoy your teenage years."
You suddenly felt a lump in your throat; his words struck you like a sharp knife. It was true. You don't even have any friends, and all you ever did was push yourself to meet expectations. You felt the need to achieve something all the time, or else you'd be deemed worthless.
"At least I have you. I have you, so it's bearable," you uttered weakly, cupping his cheeks with the hand that he had placed next to his face. "I seriously don't know what I would do if you weren't here with me, Won." Tears welled up, and you clutched the hem of your royal blue uniform skirt, feeling warm tears trail down your cheeks. Jungwon held your hands again.
At this point, you didn't even know how to continue. You were so tired, so worn out. Every day felt the same, and every day you felt your identity rapidly fading away.
"I love you." Jungwon carefully wiped away your tears and rested his forehead on yours, humming a comforting tune. You could feel his warm breath on your damp cheeks, the sensation making your stomach churn. "I'm always here for you, Love." he whispered, letting your hands go. But then, his voice cracked in a funny way when you accidentally rested your hands on top of his clothed member.
Your sobs were cut shortly, and your eyes immediately widened as you fumbled to get your sinful hands as far as possible.
You looked at an equally wide-eyed Jungwon, laughing like a maniac at his flustered expression. Jungwon's face turn red in embarrassment. You honestly don't know what to feel right now. You are sad, worried, exhausted, embarrassed, and happy all the same time. It's confusing.
"Why does your voice crack still sound so good, love?" You chuckled, pretending that what had just happened didn't just happen. But, Jungwon's face, down to his neck, was still the same shade as a tomato. He looked so... horrified.
"We were already creating a heart-warming environment." Jungwon groaned, burying his face into his palms. You don't know if he's actually talking to you, or scolding himself for breaking the vibe. He looked up at you for a brief moment and the when your eyes met, his cheeks became even redder. "I'm... I'm...." he trailed, lost for words.
"Sorry, love." You apologized, sniffing from the shortlived crying session you just had. Jungwon's left foot was vigorously shaking up and down uncomfortably, and you could see beads of sweet forming on his forehead. You were about to ask him what's wrong but your eyes vision was immediately caught by the tent like bulge on his denim pants. Oh. That's why. "Wonie... What are we going to do with that." You signalled with your eyes to his bulge that was very visible. Jungwon looked down on his pants and then looked at you guiltily.
"I swear to God, Love. This isn't what it looks like. I wasn't... I wasn't fantasizing about you... It's just that..." Jungwon groaned and rolled away to the furthest point in the bed from you. "God. I know that sounded so weird and it feels like I'm some type of creep. But, I swear, Love. I respect you so much and this..." He stopped midway, almost wailing from embarrassment.
You can't help but snort. He's so cute.
"Really, Jungwon?" You scooted closer to him and on cue, Jungwon scooted further, avoiding you like a plague. He raised his palms in the air indicating that you shouldn't go anywhere nearer, but of course, you didn't budge. "Love, we've been dating for 4 years already. I think it's about time th-"
"You're barely 18." Jungwon immediately cuts you off in horror, not even trying to hear what you were about to say. You were about to utter another word but Jungwon was quick to shush you off. "No." Jungwon stood firmly on his ground.
You shrugged.
"Mom and dad's out of town."
"I know. I asked your mom's permission to stay over for the night and I don't want to break their trust, love." He explained with his puppy eyes.
You can't help but smile at your boyfriend's cuteness.
"I will help you with that," you pointed towards his now pillow covered bulge and of course, his cheeks became red again.
"Love," Jungwon's nose was flaring upwards and the gravity of his glares were sending daggers on your side. "Please stop. I'm already trying my very best to hold myself back."
"Who told you to hold back."
Jungwon groaned. His jaws cleched and his eyes became dark, like a puma lurking to catch its prey.
"No."
"Why?" You asked.
Jungwon shook his head.
You looked at him with pleading eyes. He's always there for you and he comforts you all the time. It's about time that you make him feel loved too.
"Do you really want to do this, love?" He asked in all seriousness.
You nodded. Then, you just blinked and you swiftly felt your back hitting the soft mattress, your body bouncing a little. Jungwon encaged you with his body, kissing you passionately. It happened so fast that you gulped both in nervousness and excitement.
His kiss was filled with hunger. You had shared a couple of pecks and whatnot before. But this, this was different. You don't know precisely how, but you know that it's doing something. It's making you feel... things.
"You okay, love?" Jungwon let go of your lips, staring at you worriedly. You nodded mindlessly, trying to process the fact that your boyfriend is actually so attractive like this. Trying to process the fact that, this was actually happening. "If it's too much, pinch me, okay?" Jungwon instructed as he continued to kiss your jaws, leaving faint trails of his marks as he made his way down to your collarbones.
He skillfully took your school uniform off and you didn't even realize that you were only left with your underwear until he stopped kissing you.
"Won?" You had to shake him lightly when he was staring at your face, doing nothing for a few seconds. "Love?" You pinched him lightly.
Jungwon muttered a quick 'huh' and buried his face on his palms again upon having eye contact with you. You heard him breathing deeply, his shoulder falling and faltering.
"Sorry... It's just that... I'm so happy that you trust me this much, love. I can't believe this is actually happening." He explained, voicing out your own train of thoughts. You gave him a reassuring smile. "I don't know. Somehow, this feels like a monumental event in my life... in our lives. I can't believe this is actually happening now." He added.
You nodded, unbuttoning his shirt too. Now, you guys were left with your underwears only.
"I love you so much, Love." He whispered, taking your underwear off slowly.
...
"Wonie..." You can't help but tug on your boyfriend's hair as you felt him mercilessly eating you out like a starved lion. His breath on your thighs and the way he devoured your soaking core made you feel things you haven't felt before.
Jungwon hummed, the lewd sound coming from your own wetness and the lapping of his tounge filling the air. You rake his luscious hair, letting it glide and pass through the spaces between your fingers as you savoured the pleasure he was making you feel. "Ahh." You threw your head back as Jungwon suddenly pushed his tounge inside you without any warning. You were caught off guard. Ultimately, you were lured even further to the state of daze and you involuntarily closed your thighs with his head still in between you.
You heard him groaning.
"Won? Are you okay?" You rose from the bed frantically, and came to his aid with a hint of concern and guilt imbedded in your tone. You held his chin up for his boba-like eyes to meet yours as you tried to convey your apology. He immediately pecked a kiss on your lips, nodding to signal you that he's alright. "It's okay, love." He kissed you again, now deeper and more passionate. He drew teasing circles around your clit and you could feel a smile forming on his lips. He broke the kiss and laughed at your shuddering state.
"Does my fingers feel good, love? Does it feel better than my tongue?" He teased while still stimulating you down there. Now, it was his turn to prop your chin upwards, making you meet his eye as he mercilessly kneaded your clit. He was observing you like a hawk to its prey. You can't help but feel your blood gushing towards your cheeks. "Speechless?" He teased again. You looked at him in disbelief and amusement. Now, instead of giving in to his antics and letting him dominate over you, you grabbed his hand off your clitoris and you flicked his nose lightly.
You can't help but snicker at his dumfounded expression.
His eyes that were originally round and feline-like became even bigger. The trace of your own juice from earlier, sitting on the tip of his nose, made him look more of a cat that he already is. The sight of your boyfriend looking like this is to die for.
"What's so funny?" Jungwon raised his brows, cutting your thoughts off. His boba eyes glistened as he fluttered his long eyelashes slowly, his lips were formed in a thin line. You know he's trying to intimidate you but you just find his expression endearing. So, you bopped his nose again. "You look so cute." You replied, raising your right hand up to reach for his bare chest. Jungwon groaned upon your touch. You looked up his face searching for his eyes, and you saw it softening as he shook head, trying his very best to act displeased with your choice of word.
Jungwon's warm and feather-light fingers sent a feverish feeling all throughout your entire system as it swiftly made it's way grip your bare hips, pinning you in place. You saw his jaws clenching, eyes turning a shade darker. "Won? What ar—" You immediately yelped as you felt him bucking his hips to grind himself onto your core. "Fuck." You moaned rather loudly, considering Jungwon's satisfied reaction. Then, as if you were left hanging midair, he stopped.
"Love..." You mewled, bucking your hips upwards, craving for more friction. You looked at him in the eye searching for explanation but Jungwon held you down firmly as he smirked. "Now who's cute?" He teased, bucking his hips painfully slow. His bulge was stimulating the heck out of you like there's no tomorrow.
"I need you inside me." You begged, almost cringing at the sound of your own voice. "Now..." your breathing was hitched and the ache you felt earlier is now a lot stronger. You placed both of your hands on the back of Jungwon's neck and you pulled him in to a deep kiss. When he rose, Jungwon shook his head.
"Be patient, love. I don't want to hurt you." His eyes were sincere and his voice was mellow. You could feel his love through his gaze alone. "Since this is our first time, I don't wan—"
"I can take you!" You protested but he shook his head again. So, you, being a stubborn and horny partner, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You grabbed him by the wrist and flipped your positions over. Him being at the bottom and you on the top.
"No! That'll hurt, love." Jungwon immediately grabbed you by the hips when you were about to sink below him. He looked mad and concerned all at the same time. You sighed. You don't even know what's he on about. He's hard as a rock and straight as a baseball bat. He clearly needs this as much as you need it. "Behave, princess." In one milisecond, you found yourself laying in bed with your back again. You let out an audible squeak when you felt Jungwon towering on top of you.
"I get that you're excited," Jungwon started. He grabbed something from his bedside table and you squinted your eyes to figure out what it was. A bottle of lube. He unscrew the cap with his teeth and squeezed lube onto his hands. You breathe in deeply as a cool slimy sensation greeted your core. You felt Jungwon lathering you up with lube gently when suddenly, it's as if something's tearing you apart. He inserted his finger inside you. You felt pain like the once you feel when you get a papercut... but, triple that pain up and make it radiate and throb throughout your entire lower body. "It's a little painful, right?" Jungwon kissed your forehead. You nodded and bit your lower lip to stop yourself from wailing in pain. You asked for this.
"It's painful because you're all tensed up. Relax for me, love. Breathe." He hummed comfortingly as he buried his face on your neck. You did as you were told and you only thought of happy thoughts. "Good job. I'll insert another finger, alright?" And he did.
"Oh god." You moaned as you felt him scissoring you open, moving his middle and index finger inside you in an ungodly rhythm. You were fluttering your eyes, barely keeping them open as you felt something forming inside your stomach. It felt like something's about to break. Jungwon kept on pushing his fingers in an out of you until you felt like you were on the edge, only for him to stop. "Love... Why did you stop?" You whined breathlessly, your thighs shaking so badly.
"I thought you want me inside you?" Jungwon smiled, pulling your body to the edge of the bed as he stood there, preparing to pound your sanity out of you.
You looked up at him and saw his size clearly for the first time. You never really paid attention to its size earlier but now that you did, you felt a little concerned. He was longer than you expected him to be.
"That's gonna fit inside of me, right?"
"I hope so."
Just as you were about to protest and declare that you were ready to take him, you heard your phone ring from the bedside table.
Instinctively, the both of you threw your glance at it. "It's your mom. You should answer it." Jungwon who reached out for your phone said, as he gave it to you.
Now you felt your confidence slowly dissipating. You're already an adult and there's clearly nothing wrong with starting your sexual relationship at this age, especially with someone who's well loved by your family... but somehow, you suddenly felt like you were commiting a crime and your mom caught you.
"Hello, eomma?" You cleared your throat, trying to eliminate any signs of strain due to your moans, shrieks, and gasps earlier, afraid that your mom would know all the deeds that you've done right away.
"Where are you?" You moved your phone away from your face when your mom's voice echoed from the other line.
"At home." You gulped, trying your best to muster your words.
"Is Jungwon with you?" She asks.
"Yes." You bit your lower lip and buried your face closer to your phone, refusing to take a glance at Jungwon's side. You could feel hin snickering.
"Hello, eomonim." Jungwon greeted through the phone.
You heard a contented hum from the other line
"Be sure to lock the doors, okay? Your dad and I will be returning home tomorrow morning." Your mom reminded. "And, Jungwon, thank you for accompanying her." she added to which Jungwon replied with a polite 'no problem'.
As you pressed the hang up button, you felt Jungwon's lingering stares.
"Ready?" He smiled, and the rest was history.
---
#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#jungwon smut#jungwon scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#fanfic#jungwon imagines#boyfriend
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Ok sooo, you said that I could send my request and I couldn't wait any longer. The first fic is when they confessed for reader, but I'll love to know how they met reader and how they became that tight friend, a prequel if you will. That was it, thanks dear!
"the rainbow thief": the beginning | demigods! poly ateez au
01 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / next
summary. you never expected to be in a camp meant for demigods but, here you are. you also didn't expect on becoming friends with a brooding emo boy who introduces you to five of his friends, nor do you expect to meet two bickering best friends but, here you are.
or alternatively,
you meet eight boys that makes your life much more bearable.
pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)
word count. 2.7k
genre. crack, flustered joong, fluff!, san being clumsy (again)
warnings. cursing, mentions of anxiety, alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), impulsive writing so it's not the best, camp half blood universe inaccuracies help
note. thankyou for the req and im so sorry i posted it so late!! i totally forgot abt tumblr bc i was having too much fun on my spring break im sorry T_T but it's here now!!! i also won't be accepting any more requests for demigods! atz </3
Hongjoong feels sick.
“I think you’re fine.” Yunho frowns, pressing his palm against Hongjooong’s forehead one last time just to make sure. The healer did everything he could, even resorting to human hospital’s protocol check-ups when his hyung refused the usual nectar and ambrosia because he insists that, “something’s really wrong with me, Yunho, and I don’t think those can fix it.”
The healer can only groan inwardly at his friend’s stubbornness because there’s nothing a little nectar, ambrosia, and his glowing fingertips can’t fix. But of course, he continues to entertain him as he’s not in the mood to test the patience of a son of Hades today.
“What are your symptoms again?” Yunho asks flatly, inflating the cuff wrapped around Hongjoong’s upper arm to gauge his blood pressure again (in truth, he doesn’t know how to read a blood pressure monitor but does it anyway for Hongjoong’s sake) to appease his “patient” who is currently sitting on a cot because he feels “sick.”
“I had this really weird feeling in my stomach, like, it feels like my organs are squashed around and everything inside me turned upside down,” Yunho frowns. Okay, that sounds pretty serious. “And my face got all hot, my feet couldn’t stop twitching, and I stuttered too!” Hongjoong continues, bringing a hand to his head in worry. “This doesn’t feel like me at all.”
“Hyung, was there anything that made you feel anxious?” eyebrows furrowed in concern, Yunho regards Hongjoong carefully. “If there’s anything troubling your mind lately, I’m here to listen.”
“No, I don’t think it’s anything like that—”
An unfamiliar figure suddenly pops inside the curtain circling the cot, momentarily surprising Yunho and leaving Hongjoong stunned once he recognizes the person in front of him.
“Sorry, hi,” you grimace, feeling apologetic towards the tall boy you scared with your uninvited presence. You just got here, alone and wary, with a few scratches here and there from being chased by monsters, so you hope the cute boy with soft looking hair in front of you is the person you’re looking for and that your day won’t be even more ruined by an embarrassing moment of you mistaking him for another person. “I was told to find a Yunho here? They said he could give me something to help with my injuries.”
Forgetting entirely about his hyung’s complaints, Yunho rapidly deflates the cuff still circling Hongjoong’s arm and rips it off in a rushed manner, earning a loud yelp from the poor raven haired boy still sitting on the cot (he did not end up checking the numbers on the monitor).
Hongjoong feels his heartbeat quicken when your gaze lands on him once you stand on your tippy toes to look over Yunho’s shoulder in curiosity. A smile threatens to creep up on his own face when he notices your eyes brighten and a sweet smile curling up your lips. “Oh, Hongjoong! Hi!”
“_____. Good to see you again.”
Yunho flicks his eyes back and forth between you and Hongjoong, mischievously grinning at the interaction you’re both having because it takes awhile for Hongjoong to warm up to people and it seems like you’re new, so to think that Hongjoong has warmed up to you that quick, you must be quite the character. Or maybe, the emotionally stunted son of Hades has finally taken an interest in someone.
Yunho leans towards the latter. And he can’t wait to tell the others about this so they can all tease him about it.
“Oh,” you take note of him sitting on a cot and remind yourself that you’re in the infirmary, causing your eyes to rake over Hongjoong in worry. “Are you okay? You’re hurt?”
“No! I’m perfectly fine!” The raven haired boy who was previously complaining about his “weakened knees” suddenly sprang up from the bed, seemingly energized, and pushes a gawking Yunho over your direction with a tight grip on the back of his shoulders. “You should let Yunho check up on you then get some rest. Hope you feel better soon.”
You smile in thanks at the boy you met a few hours prior, the first person who greeted you when you stepped foot on camp, and bid him a goodbye as he turns to leave the infirmary to let Yunho tend to you alone.
Before he could, however, you nonchalantly tell him, “I like those glasses on you. Looks cute.”
A pause, and then, there it is.
Hongjoong’s cheeks slowly flame a bright pink, the soles of his sneakers nervously squeaking against the hardwood floors as he turns his head to face you with his eyes flicking to every corner of the room and anywhere that does not land on your figure. An intangible noise escapes his throat. “T-thanks.”
Oh. Yunho slaps a hand over his mouth as he tries his damn best to stifle in the laughter to save face of Hongjoong’s dignity.
Hongjoong’s not sick.
For the first time ever, Hongjoong is flustered.
✺◟( • ω • )◞✺
“That’s _____? Hongjoong’s _____?”
Hongjoong smacks the back of the two-tone haired boy’s head as he hisses, “If you don’t lower your fucking voice.”
Wooyoung’s yowl of pain is followed with a death glare shot at his hyung, the slightly tipsy boy hugging his ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug close to his chest to avoid any unnecessary spillage of perfectly good wine. “What was that for?” he cries. “They won’t even be able to hear me,” he grumbles, pointing to the group of Iris kids noisily huddled together in celebration of winning a game of Capture the Flag against the Athena kids. An impressive rarity. Athena kids are known to be very strategic with their battle plans, even in mere simulations like the game they play every Friday, which is why the Iris kids are especially happy.
Yunho tsks at the slurring of his friend’s speech, forcefully wrangling the mug of wine away from the alcohol fiend. Or at least, he attempts to, for the son of Dionysus quickly snatches the mug to avoid his prying fingers, an expression of mocking retaliation sent his way.
“She’s so cool,” Mingi dreamily sighs, having hearts as eyes as he continues to look at you in awe. You’re in the center of the Iris kids circle, a wide smile plastered on your lips as everyone else rejoices on your team’s victory. You meet eyes with both Hongjoong and Yunho (who is still busy trying to keep his feral friend at bay), sending an excited wave their way in greeting which earns back a proud thumbs up from Yunho and a genuinely heartwarming smile from Hongjoong.
“You have to introduce me to her!” Mingi gasps eagerly, hopping around Hongjoong while flailing his arms in glee, unknowingly landing hits on the silently seething raven haired boy who pointedly glares at him in return.
“You can do it yourself.”
“Someone’s doing it right now,” Jongho points out, the rest of the boys turning their heads to see their own Seonghwa hyung, the head counselor of the Athena cabin, make his way towards you and shake your hand with a gentle smile. It seems that he’s congratulating you for your win and Jongho chortles at the obvious twinkle in the eldest’ eyes. He’s trying to make a move on you.
And he can see why Seonghwa, alongside Hongjoong and Yunho, has taken an interest in you.
Because although your fellow siblings are urgently trying to sweep you into the dining pavilion for a celebratory dinner, you still take the time to meet the three new faces that are close friends with Hongjoong. Amidst the conversation between the rest of the boys and you, Jongho gets why it’s so easy for Hongjoong and Yunho to be close to you in the span of a week. Your contradictingly soft but bubbly personality seems to shine out of you, easily melting the coldest hearts (cough, Hongjoong hyung, cough), and the way you always seem to have an easy smile on your face softens just about anyone.
It’s easy to like you.
“Who are they?” you question your siblings once you’ve sat in the Iris table in the dining pavilion, distractedly biting onto your chopsticks as you try to be discreet in sneaking a look at the two lone boys sitting separately in the Zeus table and the Poseidon table. Both tables that, apparently, have been unoccupied for years.
A new kid of the big three; Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, always garner attention because they’re so rare in quantity. Especially now that there’s two of them, one of your siblings, Yuna, excitedly jumps to inform you. “We don’t know their names yet but I heard they came in while we were just starting the game. Probably why we didn’t hear anything about them until now,” she shrugs, shoving another piece of gimbap into her mouth. “But the other campers said they got claimed immediately after coming here! That’s usually unheard of from the big three.”
Your brother, Keeho, who took the displeasing choice of sitting beside Yuna grimaces in disgust as he force shut her open chewing mouth. “Don’t talk while you’re chewing.”
You take another look at the two boys sitting silently with their heads slightly lowered, taking note of the unhealed scratches and bruises blooming all over their skin. You gasp, turning back to Keeho to ask, “What happened to them?”
“Heard they were hunted by a minotaur which is why they’re both forced to come here. All of the Apollo kids were stationed at our game earlier in case anything happens, probably why they haven’t had the chance to be healed.”
You shovel the rest of your food down your throat, almost choking in the process which earned a few panicked concerns from your siblings, but you ignore them and quickly move to the closest table, the Zeus table, after chugging down water from your goblet.
“Hi! I’m ______. It’s nice to meet you.”
The blonde looks up in surprise to see you and you use the short pause to take a good look at his face. Soft slanted eyes that oddly remind you of a cat’s greet you alongside a shy smile that spreads across his face and pops out both of his dimples.
Oh, you think. You didn’t expect him to be so handsome. You’re screwed.
“_____,” he repeats your name, pleasantly basking in the friendly smile you give him. You slightly waver at the way he says your name so sweetly. “I’m San. It’s nice to meet you too.”
“How are you liking it here?” you ask, trying to start a conversation in hopes of easing his first-day jitters. “I’m also still pretty new here. Just got here last week, actually.”
You can see the tension seep out his shoulders after hearing that you’re one of the newer campers as he gladly sighs in relief. “I’m pretty nervous, I don’t really know what’s going on,” he lets out an emotionless chuckle. “I just found out that my dad isn’t my actual dad and that Zeus? The dude up in the sky? Is apparently my real dad.”
“Yeah,” you grimace, you still haven’t fully grasped that either. “It took awhile for me to get kinda used to things here but I also somehow feel that I belong here,” you look at him, hoping your effort of comforting him is working. “I think you’ll fit in here soon enough. It’s okay to take things slow.”
This time, San genuinely smiles. “Thanks _____.”
“By the way,” he adds in a whisper, tugging your wrist to bring you closer to him, inadvertently causing your cheeks to warm. “I don’t know much about my… dad or Greek Mythology in that matter, but isn’t he like a major dickhead—”
A thunderous clap of lightning pierces through the suddenly darkened sky, striking a tree that stood closest to the dining pavilion, erupting it in booming flames. Surprised screams break out throughout the dining campers, everyone quickly turning their heads to look at San; the most probable culprit of angering the God of the Sky that one of their trees is now on fire.
“Oh, oops,” the guilty boy winces. “Sorry.”
“San, was that you?” a voice came from behind you, requiring you to turn around to see who it is and oh– it’s the boy who was sitting at the Poseidon table; the other new camper. The raven haired boy looks at you, taking in the horrified look on your face as you resume watching the tree burn after attempting to nod at him in greeting. “Man, what’d you do this time?”
“I didn’t do anything,” the blonde boy Yeosang unfortunately calls his best friend, whines. “It’s just… maybe I said some words I shouldn’t have or whatever. Anyways, can’t you fix that? Shouldn’t you have, like, water powers or something?”
“We literally just got here, idiot,” Yeosang rolls his eyes, though he thinks it’d be pretty cool if he does end up having powers. He turns to your direction, taking the chance to talk to you now that he sees you’ve snapped out of your daze. “I’m sorry about him, he must’ve given you a hard time.”
San lets out an offended “hey!”
“No he didn’t,” you giggle. “It’s just,” you point at the still burning tree and a few campers circling it with buckets of water in hopes of putting out the fire. “It’s not everyday that you see stuff like this.”
Yeosang turns around, whistling lowly once he actually takes in the damage his best friend (his best friend’s dad, actually) has done. “Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” he says.
“Eh,” you shrug. “The Demeter kids are probably upset about it but it’s nothing they can’t fix.”
Your eyes widen, you totally forgot why you wanted to approach them in the first place. “Speaking of fixing,” you usher San out of his table and exchange proper introductions with the raven haired boy named Yeosang before dragging them by the wrists to the Apollo table. “You should really get those wounds healed. The Apollo kids here are the healers, they’ll know what to do.”
A tall boy, who Yeosang presumes to be Yunho based on your calls of his name, smoothly steps out of the table with his siblings and introduces himself to both of them. You told the healer about what you heard, that they were both hunted on the way here; hence the bruises from struggles of their escape. His eyes take in the exhausted figures of the two boys and he tells them that they should follow him to the infirmary to heal and rest up.
“Hey! Wait up!”
A boy with two-toned hair surprisingly holding a can of Diet Coke instead of his regular mug, skips to the group of four, tagging along the remaining of the boys behind him. Already exchanging greetings and introductions, the two new boys are slightly surprised at how friendly they all are but they absolutely do not mind at all, despite how they feel like their bones would crumble in exhaustion at any moment.
As the nine of them move together towards the infirmary, Wooyoung keeps bugging Yeosang with stupid questions that makes San laugh. (“Can you turn water into wine?” “If I could, wouldn’t that be blasphemy? And shouldn’t you be the one who turns things to wine?”). He’s never met anyone like them and they’re a bit odd but he thinks that he likes that.
He looks at you walking side by side with Yunho, an imposing Mingi trying to squeeze in the very small space left between you and the healer who is now glaring at his tall friend. Jongho watches from the sides, enjoying the suffering his hyung is going through and letting out amused snickers now and then. Seonghwa and Hongjoong look like they’re fighting over something, arms messily flailing against one anothers’, with Seonghwa letting out occasional squeals. San can’t tell if they’re play fighting or serious.
The blonde smiles, shoving his hands down his pockets. Staying at camp doesn’t sound all too bad now.
“I think you’ll fit in here soon enough.”
He thinks so too.
#ateez oneshot#ateez imagines#ateez ot8 x reader#ot8 ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#poly ateez#poly ateez x reader#ateez reactions#ateez ff#ateez fic#ateez fluff#ateez crack#ateez fanfic#demigods ateez#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader
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Tommy request where he disregards her for grace and then when the thrill of it ends he ends up regretting BUT she’s focused on helping john and reader is just so cute and caring with johns kids and john is wanting to marry her being all like “this makes sense, she and i are the same age, best friends for like YEARS now, it all fits” and Polly’s all like “cute but tommy will skin you alive” and instead of groveling tommy turns dark and is all like “you want your little shelby babies? then okay I, and only I, will give it to love” please and thank u xxx
Damn alright here we go......
Little Green Monster
After choosing Grace over you, Tommy begins to realize he messed up when you start spending time with his brother John. Tags: dark! Tommy, p in v, unprotected sex, language, multiple orgasms, slight stalking, breeding kink
Tommy chose Grace Over you And at first it really did hurt your feelings. You loved Tommy and You thought that he loved you too. Then, unexpectedly, John came into your life, and he made the pain more bearable. He needed help with all of his kids, and you had nothing else to do. The two of you grew close in time, John thinking that perhaps Tommy leaving you was a good thing. He needed a woman like you, and you were always so good and sweet to his kids.
"I think I want to marry her, Pol." John confessed to Polly. "She's just so wonderful, I don't see how Tommy could have possibly left her." Polly put down her cup of tea with a serious look on her face. "I agree John, she is lovely, but Tommy will skin you alive if he hears of your intentions. Regardless of who he chose, that little green monster will always be on his back. I do believe he regrets his decision. This whole thing will make Tommy go crazy and do something he shouldn't." John rolls his eyes, "I believe I can handle my own brother, Pol. He broke her heart! I fixed it! He can fuck right off! We are best friends, we'd be perfect married!" Tommy was in the other room and heard every word. Oh, little green monster indeed.
Tommy knew your routine and waited for you to be alone at the end of the day to say anything. He stood in the shadows outside your house, waiting for John to leave. John finally made his way home, a smirk on his face. Tommy quietly opened the door, sneaking his way in your house. "John? You forget something?" You turned around to find Tommy at your bedroom door. "Excuse you, Tommy!" Quickly wrapping yourself up in your silk robe. "What in the hell are you doing here? You can't just-" Tommy cut you off by closing the distance and pulling you into a searing kiss.
You push Tommy away with a slap. "How dare you, Tommy! I am John's girl now. You left me for Grace, so go be with her and leave me be!" Tommy grabs you and holds you up against the wall. "You know I can't do that now. You are not John's, you will always be mine and you know it. He wants to marry you and fill you up with his babies, but over my dead body, love. Deep down, you know you want my babies. You know you miss me." You can feel how hard Tommy is right now, and you will the butterflies to leave your stomach. "You know you miss me, love, especially at night. You miss me being buried inside you, clinging to me for dear life, eh? I've been the only man that could make you come, isn't that right?" Tommy purrs in your ear.
A sudden flash of anger comes across at his arrogance. "Fuck you!" Tommy just chuckles and throws you on the bed "Oh I will, love. That I will do. I've missed you so much." You try and fight him, but Tommy is much stronger, and part of you doesn't want to fight much to your disgust. His big, strong hands make their way up your legs and under your nightgown. Tommy finds what he is looking for with a pleased smile. "Well, well. Seems like you've missed me too, eh love? So wet as always for me. My good girl." He quickly undresses himself, ready to be inside you.
He pulls your legs apart and dives inside with no warning. Your back arches at the sudden intrusion. Fighting the moan that is trying to escape your mouth. Tommy growls at how well you take him. "Even your body remembers me, love. Don't you see? You are mine. All mine. Nothing compares to you, love, and I'm sorry it had to be this way. Don't fight this, sweetheart. You know it's right. I belong here. You belong underneath me." Tommy knows just how to move to get your brain to switch off. You want to say so much, but your brain won't will your mouth to move. With a particular movement of his hips, you cry out and dig your nails in his back.
"Oh, there she is, there's my girl." Tommy moans. "I know what you like, don't I? John sure as hell doesn't. Only I can get you to feel this good. Only I can get you to soak these sheets. My girl. Mine. You want shelby babies? I'll give you as many as you want. I'll keep you full and satisfied. I'll fill you till you overflow. Whenever you want it. You. Are. Mine. To. Fill." Tommy thrusts hard with every word to make his point, and the sound of his deep voice in your ear causes you to lose control and come all over him.
"Good girl. There you go. Take what you need. You've been without me too long. Well, that's over. I've got you now, don't I?" Tommy kisses you again. "Look at you all fucked out and at peace. Just how it should be. I'm gonna come so hard inside you, love. Are you ready?" All you can do is nod weakly as his confession causes you to squeeze him again. "I'll never leave you again, I promise." With one final thrust, Tommy releases inside you, the warmth causing another orgasm to escape from you. You lay there with Tommy, full and satisfied, just like he said you'd be.
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Left Behind
Pairing: Moiraine Sedai/Reader
Word Count: 2020
Warning: implied sexual activity
Summary: Moiraine left for the Dragon Reborn without saying goodbye or an explanation. Three years later she's back in the Tower.
A/n: I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but a lot happened. In Uni and my personal life, so I didn't have too much time. I'm sorry. I hope you like it. Request: @lovequinnin (I hope its kind of like you wanted it <3)
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You rounded a corner in the Tower and suddenly stood right in front of Lan. For a dreadful second you just stared at him before slowly walking backwards around the corner and fleeing.
If Lan was here, Moiraine wasn't far.
Everything inside of you screamed to go to her. To ask how she'd been, hug her, kiss her. But she had hurt you once, and you didn't want her to do it again. Even after three years, it still hurt. Every day. Every moment. You wouldn't be able to live through that a second time. It would break you, completely and irrevocably. So you just kept your distance.
Which was harder than it sounded. The Tower was big, but not that big. And being a part of the brown Ajah, sitting in the library all day definitely didn't help, when Moiraine needed something from the Library every day.
The first day it was inconvenient, but it wasn't unusual. Everyone needed to go to the library sometimes. The encounter was awkward but bearable. She left as fast as she had come. You barely looked at her, politely but coldly giving her the book she needed. Politely but coldly asking if she needed anything else. And politely but coldly saying goodbye, turning around and going back to work.
The second day it was simply annoying. You dreaded seeing her more often just because she needed a book. You didn't really look up, but just the way she walked, her voice, her presence was enough to make your heart ache.
The fifth day you started to get suspicious. She had come every day for the past five days and everyday it seemed as if she needed a different book. All on topics, that weren't related in any way. It was unusual for Moiraine, she was organised, structured. It didn't fit her way of working.
On the morning of the seventh day you decided to talk to her about it. It was absolutely silly. This game made you go crazy. It was like she wanted to see you hurt. But on this day, for the first time in a week, she didn't come.
Not in the morning, not in the afternoon and not in the evening. It was already dark outside when you left the library, you had stretched your work, secretly hoping she would still come. But she hadn't, and that nearly hurt more than seeing her.
You strolled through the tower absent-mindedly, thinking about Moiraine. You were fighting with yourself. Your heart longed to see her, your brain screamed at you to stay away. To protect yourself, protect your heart.
Apparently the wheel decided to make that decision for you.
As you strolled down the corridor, on your way back to your room, you bumped into someone. You looked up and started an apology, that immediately got stuck in your throat as you saw the face of the person you had run into. It was Moiraine. Of course it was, who else would it be?
You stuttered out a few words, more like sounds, before taking a step back, as you suddenly realised how close you were. You pulled yourself together and straightened up a bit. You dared to look at her, but avoided her eyes. You knew that her eyes would always break you.
"Moiraine." You simply said, voice steady even though you felt your hands tremble slightly.
You saw the corners of her lips rise slightly, her eyes searching for yours.
"(Y/n)." She said softly. You could hear a hint of hope in her voice, a hint of...longing?
"Can I help you?" Your voice was icier than you had intended, but you couldn't pull back anymore. Her smile faded and her shoulders sank just a little bit. Gently she sighed.
"Please, can we talk?" She asked you, voice steady as always. Like it didn’t mean anything to her, at all. You stared at her, speechless. Her voice was steady, so steady she had nearly fooled you. But, just nearly. You sensed how desperate, how helpless she was. Even though she had no right to be. She had no right to be hurt, when she had been the one who had hurt you.
Your mouth opened and closed, your eyes widened a little. You couldn't find the words. So you grabed her arm and pulled her a few metres down the corridor, opened the door of your room and pulled her inside. Thinking about it now, she had probably went to your room earlier, hadn't found you and had just been leaving when you had bumped into her.
"You want to talk? Ok, let's talk." You said, voice filled with rage. Rage that you desperately hoped would hide your pain, would shove your tears down. It was a thin line between rage and hurt.
"(Y/n)..." She started but you harshly cut her off.
"No, you have no right to talk right now. Even coming to the library every single day is just outrageous. You just left. Three years ago, you left. You were just gone one day and never said a word. No letter, no message, no explanation." The words burst out of you, they'd been hidden inside of you for so long. All the hurt, the confusion and the anger just spilled out of you.
You could see the surprise on Moiraine's face, she steped back a little and tried to say something, but you just rambled on. Giving her no room for answers and explanations.
"You left me behind, like all those times together meant nothing to you. Like I meant nothing to you." You abruptly stopped talking as you saw Moiraine's eyes getting wet, her cheeks redden slightly, and her whole body slightly collapsed in on itself.
You wanted to go on, wanted to shout at her, wanted to make her feel everything she had made you feel. But your stupid heart betrayed you, it still beat for her. No words left your mouth. You simply stood there, like you were petrified. After a second you moved again, took a few steps back and sank into a chair.
You rest your head on your hands and looked down, trying hard to keep the tears down. In vain. Just a few slipped out and rolled down your cheeks, but you didn't let Moiraine see them.
You heard her getting closer, slowly, carefully. She stopped, and sighed. As she started to talk, her voice was soft like honey and strong. But it was wavering a bit, just a tiny bit. But you noticed. You'd always notice.
"I'm sorry. I had to leave, it was for your own safety. I couldn't say anything, the Amyrlin Seat forbid me to-..." you cut her off again, though not nearly as harshly as before.
"Since when do you listen to the Amyrlin Seat?" It sounded bitter, but teary.
"Since it meant protecting you." She said. It's raw, full of emotion. Different to what she usually sounds like, and it made you look up. As if to check, if it's still Moiraine who's talking. But it was.
You sighed, the exhaustion of the day and the tears stronger than your rage. For the first time in three years you thought, that maybe she really hadn't meant to hurt you. That maybe she never stopped loving you.
Your voice is quiet, thin as you speak. It's wavering and doesn't sound like your voice. Even to you, it's foreign. You looked down again, not having enough strength to look at her while talking.
"I didn't need your protection. I needed your love. When you left, you took a part of me with you. A part of me I never got back." Your eyes were glued to the floor and a tear falls to the ground. You felt her before you saw her.
She had kneeled down in front of you and gently grabbed your chin between her fingers to lift your head. You tried to turn away, to not lock eyes with her, but her grip was strong. It held you in place, it forced you to look at her.
You saw hurt, pain, regret but most importantly love. Love, like you hadn't seen in three years. Her hand wandered to your cheek and cupped it, softly stroking your skin, wiping a few tears away.
"(Y/n)" she quietly breathed your name. Her name on your lips had always sounded like a promise. Until she broke that promise.
"I'm so sorry for the way I hurt you. It's never what I wanted. Lan had said I shouldn't...but I couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk your safety." The words sounded sincere, like the truth. It sounded, which almost hurt the most, a lot like something Moiraine would do. She had always estimated the value of love far too low. Even if it was her own love, maybe especially when it was her own love.
"Don't you think that should have been my decision?" You asked sadly, smiling bitterly, nearly accusing. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, there was determination in them, strength.
"I knew that you would have wanted to come with us. But that wasn't possibly, I couldn't have forgiven myself if... If you'd been hurt." You tilted your head to the side a little, like a curious puppy. Didn't she know? That you would have died for her. You blinked a few times, trying to find fitting words.
"I would have," you replied softly, "I love you."
The tense surprised you both. Of course, you knew that you still loved her, you just hadn't meant to admit that. But she looked at you like she had expected you to hate her. To never feel anything good for her again. Didn't she know? That you'd always love her.
No one dared to say anything, as if it would break the spell. As if it would catapult you back to reality, like this was a dream. You felt her hand still on your cheek, warm and tingling. She doesn't acknowledge it, but she doesn't move it away either.
"Still?" She asked with a thin voice, not much louder than a whisper. Didn't she know?
"Of course. Nothing you could do would ever make me stop loving you." You saw a tear slowly roll down her cheek. She sucked it up and looked away, fighting against the tears. She slightly shook her head in denial.
"I do. I'll always love you, Moiraine." You gently directed her face back to look at you and dry her tear. Your thumb softly stroked over her lips and slightly parted them. Moiraine's eyes closed and she breathed in shakily.
Slowly, carefully you leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. It's a soft kiss, short and careful. It's a question. And Moiraine answerd.
She pressed against your lips, more desperately than you, it nearly felt guilty. Like she wanted to apologise, make up for lost time. Show you, that she cared. That she loved and longed.
You're a little startled by her kiss, but soon you pulled her closer, held her and forgave her. You started taking of her clothes, stood up and draged her to the bed. It was messy, hastily and chaotic. But it was all you needed. Her. By your side.
"I'll come with you." You breathed out quietly against her hair. You were intertwined, under the sheets, arm in arm.
"No, you don't even know where I'm going or what I'm doing." She protested, her voice almost sounded desperate. Desperate to protect you, to keep you safe.
"You won't leave me here again. I'm coming with you." Your voice is steady, calm. You knew you would win the argument, you usually did.
"It's dangerous."
"I don't care. If you'd asked, I would have come with you three years ago." The blunt truth hung in the air. She hadn't left you a choice back then, she had decided for you. You wouldn't let her do that again, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry. We lost so much time together." She whispered softly, and you pulled her closer into your embrace. You placed a soft kiss on her head.
"We'll make up for it."
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Another request💕💕💕 hurt/comfort 💕😭
Male reader x Adam were reader feels like he isn't enough for Adam and all ways flinchs, he got that from his parents who were abusive ( you can skip this if you not comfortable) 💕
Who will Adam react?
If you can thank you 💕💕💕
I've got you hun! This is basically the headcanons but I turned em into a story, hope that's fine by you, xoxo/p
Lonely Eyes
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, mentions of past abuse, trauma response
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
It was quite hard for you to believe he actually loved you the way you loved him - you weren't saying he was lying to you, he was acting too kind for that, but it felt like every second he could see someone hotter than you, someone more attractive than you and leave you for them. Because in God's holy name, why would someone as handsome, someone as cocky date someone like you? You didn't know, there was no way that made it make sense.
You were constantly drowning in thoughts that told you you weren't enough, that he deserved better than you, in hell's seven rings, he couldn't even touch you without you flinching away. No hugs, no cuddles, no casual touches like having him wrap his arm around you. You always flinched away from his touch, no matter how soft it was.
It was a very obvious trauma response from when you had been alive. Your dad had been abusive, the man had hit you whenever he could, if there had been no reason, he had made one up.
Adam knew about that and he understood, well he did to a certain level.
-
“Y/N,” Adam said as he entered the living room, you looked up from the book you were reading, “I wanna talk to you about something.” Oh fuck. That was it. He had finally had enough of your bullshit and was going to break up with you now. “Let’s get this over quickly,” you sighed, sadness washed over your entire body language and Adam frowned in confusion, “What?” You looked up at him, “You wanna shatter my fucking heart and break up with me? Do it quick.” You tossed your book to the side and got up from the couch. It had only been a matter of time after all, better sooner than later, it would make the pain more bearable.
“The fuck are you talking about, babes? No one's gonna break up with your fucking ass,” the brunette stated as he walked over to you. His hands slowly came up to cup your face but he stopped right before touching your warm skin, he wanted your approval. You slowly leaned into his big palm and smiled a little when his thumb caressed your cheek. “No?” you asked, completely drowning in this sweet sensation, “Are you sure?” Adam looked baffled, then responded, “Am I sure? Am I sure? Babes,” he moved your head a little which caused you to open your eyes and look at him, “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my fucking life. I fucking love your ass, babes, ain't no way I'm giving you up.” Words of affirmation seemed like a lie to you, well they usually did. But with Adam? He seemed to be honest about it and while you still didn't understand how he could love someone like you, you chose to enjoy his company, love and affection for as long as he intended to stay. It was simply the best thing you could do.
“So the thing I wanted to talk about,” the first man brought up the original topic that conversation was supposed to be about, “What would you say if I told you that I got us a table in that fancy ass restaurant you like so much?”
Your eyes beamed at him.
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