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xomakara · 2 months

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Bedtime Surprises

SUMMARY | Mark comes home from practice and finds you waiting in bed for him. PAIRINGS | Mark x Reader GENRE | idol!Mark, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya'll!), fingering, dirty talk, blowjobs, pure unadulterated sex RATING | Mature LENGTH | 1,922 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Guess who's back!! ME!! Can't believe it's been like 3 months since I wrote anything NCT related. Please forgive me my neos. I've been distracted with Ateez 🫣. It's a short one but I needed to write something with Mark (I have a Jaehyun and a Johnny wip in the works lolol) because Mark be looking so good this comeback. Love you all 💚

Mark let out a weary sigh as he let himself into the apartment, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking the door closed. It was good to be home.

He was tired. He'd spent all day working hard at practice and his muscles were aching. He was sweaty and grubby but he wanted nothing more than to see you. He called out, "Babe? You home?"

"In here!" came your reply, and he followed the sound of your voice to the bedroom, where he stopped short in the doorway, eyes going wide.

You were lying back against the pillows, dressed only in a lacy red bra and panties. Your legs were slightly parted, and you were looking at him with a playful, sultry smile on your face.

"What... What's all this?" Mark said, motioning to the room. There were candles all around, and flower petals on the bed. The lights were low and music was playing.

"I thought you deserved a reward for working so hard," you said, beckoning him closer. He stepped over to the bed, kneeling on it, crawling up your body to hover over you, hands resting either side of your head.

"Really?" he breathed, leaning down and brushing his lips against yours. "And what did you have in mind, babe?"

"This," you said, and kissed him, running your hands up his back.

He kissed you back, pressing his lips harder against yours, and you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging gently.

He broke away, smiling at you, his dark eyes sparkling. "You look so gorgeous, baby," he whispered, running his fingers down the side of your face.

You leaned up and kissed him again, pulling him down so his body was flush with yours, feeling his skin against your own. You moaned into the kiss, arching up into him, and he responded by trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tilting your head to give him better access. He nibbled lightly on the spot just below your ear, and you gasped, shivering. He chuckled softly, then kissed his way back up your neck to your mouth, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

Mark broke away, looking at you with a smile, his dark eyes sparkling. His hair was mussed from where you had run your fingers through it, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked beautiful, and you felt your heart flutter.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, stroking your thumb over his soft skin. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into your touch, and you smiled.

Mark opened his eyes, looking at you, and you could see the love and adoration in his gaze. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You've been working too hard, Mark. With your comeback, dance practices…" you said softly. "Let me take care of you tonight."

He smiled, nodding. "I'd like that," he replied, and you reached up, taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

Mark settled back against the pillows, his shirt thrown to who knew where and his jeans unbuttoned. You climbed over him, straddling his hips, and bent to press kisses to his neck, sucking lightly on the soft skin. He tilted his head to the side, allowing you better access, and you nipped lightly, making him gasp.

You moved your kisses lower, across his chest and down his stomach, pausing at his waistband and glancing up at him through your lashes. His eyes were dark with desire, and his breath was coming faster. You reached up, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, and tugged.

Mark lifted his hips, and you slid his jeans and boxers down, tossing them aside. You ran your hands up his legs, and he shivered at the sensation of your soft skin against his. You moved between his legs, leaning forward and pressing kisses to his inner thighs.

Mark's breathing quickened, and his cock twitched. You looked up at him, smiling mischievously, and took him in your hand. He moaned softly as you began to stroke him, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Mark, look at me," you said, and he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. You kept your eyes locked on his as you lowered your head, running your tongue along his length. He shuddered, his breathing ragged, and you repeated the motion.

"Oh god, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, tasting him, and he cried out, his hands fisting in the sheets.

You took him in your mouth, sucking gently, and his hips bucked involuntarily. You continued to work him with your mouth, using your hand to stroke the base. His breathing was fast and shallow, and his body was tense. He lifted one hand to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"Please," he panted. "I need... I want..."

You released him from your mouth with a wet pop, looking up at him. His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils dilated.

"What do you want, Mark?" you asked, your voice low and husky.

"I want you, baby," he said, his voice strained. "I need you."

"How do you want me, Mark?"

"I want... I want to feel you," he said. "All of you. Please, baby."

You nodded, moving up to kiss him. He pulled you close, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing.

"I love you so much," he murmured against your lips.

You broke the kiss, looking into his eyes. "I love you too," you whispered.

Mark's hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you down onto his lap. Your legs straddled him, and his erection rubbed against you, making you both gasp.

"Baby," he groaned, grinding up against you. "I need you."

Your hands tangled in his hair as you pulled him into another heated kiss. He slipped his hands under your bra, palming your breasts.

"Fuck," he moaned, rolling his thumbs over your nipples. "You're so fucking sexy, baby."

"Mark," you moaned, arching into his touch.

"Shh," he soothed, nuzzling your neck. "I've got you, baby."

He kissed you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and his hands worked the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His hands moved to cup your breasts, kneading them gently, and you gasped as his thumbs grazed your nipples.

He trailed kisses down your neck, licking and nibbling at your collarbone, before taking one nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You moaned, arching into his touch, and he chuckled softly.

He moved his attention to the other nipple, licking and sucking, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. He moaned against your breast, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Oh, Mark," you breathed.

He switched back and forth between your breasts, his hands wandering lower, stroking your stomach and sides. His hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, cupping your ass and squeezing.

You gasped, arching into his touch, and he chuckled, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"I love it when you make those noises," he said, his voice low and husky.

You moaned, pressing yourself against him. He was hard and throbbing, and you could feel him twitch against you.

"Please, Mark," you begged. "I need you."

"What do you need, baby?" he asked, his fingers slipping into your panties, teasing you.

"I need you inside me," you breathed.

He smiled, his eyes glittering. "That can be arranged," he said, pushing your panties to the side before sliding two fingers inside you, making you gasp.

"You're so wet," he groaned, his cock twitching.

"Yes," you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand.

"Fuck," he groaned, adding a third finger, curling them and finding that sweet spot.

You gasped, your head falling back as he worked his fingers in and out of you.

"Do you want my cock, baby?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes, Mark," you moaned, riding his fingers.

"Tell me what you want," he growled.

"I want your cock, Mark," you whimpered.

"What else?" he prompted, thrusting his fingers deeper, making you cry out.

"I want you to fuck me, Mark," you moaned. "I want to feel you inside me, stretching me, filling me."

He growled, his cock throbbing. "Good girl," he praised, removing his fingers and lining his cock up with your entrance.

He gripped your hips, pulling you down onto him, burying himself in your tight heat.

You both moaned as he filled you, stretching you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Mark," you moaned, grinding down against him, savoring the feel of him inside you.

"Baby," he moaned, rocking his hips, his cock twitching.

You rode him, your pace increasing as he thrust up into you.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hands roaming over your body, caressing and squeezing. "Look at you. Only in your panties, bouncing on my dick."

"Shit, you're so deep," you whimpered.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"So fucking good," you moaned, rolling your hips, feeling him hit all the right spots.

"I love the sounds you make," he groaned.

You leaned down and kissed him, moaning against his lips.

"Fuck," he hissed, thrusting up into you.

"Faster," you urged, and he obliged, speeding up his movements, and slamming into you.

You moaned, your head falling back, and he leaned forward, latching onto one of your breasts, sucking and biting.

"Mark, oh god Mark," you moaned, and he switched his attention to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.

"Mark," you cried out, and he lifted his head, looking at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"I can't hold out much longer, baby," he groaned, thrusting deeper and harder.

"Come for me, Mark," you moaned, clenching around him, and his thrusts became erratic, his movements frantic.

"Oh fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he groaned. "Can I come in you, baby? I want to come in you, please."

"Yes, Mark," you cried out, feeling yourself reach the edge. "I want you to come inside me, I want to feel you."

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, and with a final thrust, he came, spilling himself inside you, and the feel of his cock pulsing and the sound of his moans sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you.

"Holy shit," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as you both came down from your highs.

"That was amazing," you murmured, nuzzling his neck.

"You're amazing," he said, kissing the top of your head.

You pulled back and looked at him, seeing the love and adoration in his eyes. "I love you, Mark."

He smiled, cupping your cheek. "I love you too, baby," he said, leaning down and kissing you softly.

You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" he asked.

"I was thinking we could just stay in and watch a movie," you suggested.

"Sounds good," he agreed.

You smiled, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Why don't we go shower first?" he suggested, and you nodded.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," you purred.

"I thought you might," he grinned.

You stood, pulling him up after you, and the two of you headed for the bathroom.

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #mark #nct mark #nct mark smut #mark lee #mark x reader

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floralcyanide · 2 months

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― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?”

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies.

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter.

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other.

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive.

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that!

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially.

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add.

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed.

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words.

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly.

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is.

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith.

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement.

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas.

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow.

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive.

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine.

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person.

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you.

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger.

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain.

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness.

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night.

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you.

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins.

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner.

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

#javier rivera #javier rivera x reader #javir ivera #javi rivera x reader #javi x reader #javier “javi” rivera #javier “javi” rivera x reader #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters fic #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader #anthony ramos #anthony ramos x reader #floralcyanide writes

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fairykingjing · 1 month

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Zoro x GN Reader - Broken bones, mended hearts

Got another fic for ya'll! I know I've been posting only Zoro fics but I have a Law x F Reader one I'm working on that I'll post at some point next week. That's all, enjoy the story. :3

Summary: Zoro accidentally hurts you during a training exercise and is sure you’ll never forgive him. You’re sure he thinks you’re weak for getting hurt. A little communication would solve everything, but Zoro was never good with words.

Warnings: reader gets injured and ignores the injury, unresolved angst gets a resolution, reader and Zoro fight, reader gets yelled at. Little fluff at the end.

WC: 1600

You and your crewmate Zoro were on the main deck, fighting each other as part of a training exercise. It was getting heated, and taunts and jabs were being thrown back and fourth, all in good fun. You were laser focused on Zoro’s next move, when Chopper yelled out in surprise about a fish he caught off the side of the boat. You got distracted enough for Zoro to take you down, but you landed on your ankle wrong and something snapped. You yelped as searing pain shot through your ankle up your leg. Zoro’s eye widened in shock.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. Just startled me is all,” you lied. He squinted his eye at you, clearly not believing you. You forced yourself to walk upright and without limp, the pain becoming unbearable, but you didn’t want him or any of the crew to worry. “Told you, I’m fine.”

You made your way to your room, careful to take a route that passed as few other members of the crew as possible. As soon as you made it in the room, you collapsed onto your bed and buried your face into your pillow to scream. You then finally took the time to assess the injury. Your ankle was swelling and bruised, and from the pain and snap you heard, something broke, badly. The door suddenly swung open as Nami walked into the room, and you quickly covered your ankle with a blanket and tried your best to look normal.

“Oh, hey!” she said. “What happened out there?”

“Nothing, I just got startled and knocked over” you replied quickly.

“You feeling okay? You look like shit,” Nami questioned.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just… tired is all.” you lied. “From the training.”

“Riiiiight,” Nami said. “Well dinner will be ready soon, if you want to walk down together?”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna rest here for a while,” you said. Nami clearly wasn’t buying it either, but she walked back out without saying anything else. You laid back down on the bed and tried to fall asleep.

A few hours passed before anybody checked on you again. Zoro was the next to enter, knocking before he crept in. “Hey, I was coming to see how you were-” his sentence cut off as he saw your body laid out before him. You were shaking and sweating, and he could clearly see your ankle and how awful it looked. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, before yelling for Chopper. He rushed over to you and tried to wake you up.

“Hey! Hey, wake up!” he begged. You stirred slightly, moaning in pain as your ankle moved. Realization hit you, and you jolted up, staring at him in surprise.

“W-what are you doing in here?” you gasped.

“I came to check up on you! Why didn’t you tell me you were injured!? Chopper should have known about this as soon as it happened!” he yelled. He was tense, and clearly angry with you for hiding your injury. He quickly softened though, when he saw you trembling, tears threatening to fall down your face.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak.” You sniffled, and brought your hands up to quickly wipe your face. You didn’t want Zoro to see you crying, especially when he was angry at you. What you didn’t expect was for his large, scarred hands to grab yours so gently. He started to speak, but the moment was interrupted by Chopper rushing in with a med kit, screaming when he saw your ankle. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner! This looks bad!” he yelled, panicking. He shoved Zoro out of the way and quickly got to work stabilizing and assessing the injury.

“Sorry,” you whimpered.

“Just don’t do this again, please! It looks like you shattered the bone!” Chopper pleaded. He quickly changed forms to be able to carry you to the medical area, and Zoro was left alone in the room. His thoughts spiraled as he realized just how badly you were hurt, and it was all his fault. Just when he thought he was getting closer to you, to maybe finally use his words to tell you how he felt, and now he’s gone and ruined it. He didn’t even get to tell you that he didn’t think you were weak.

“Fucking great,” he groaned to himself. “Now they’re never gonna like me.”

You had to stay in the medical area for several days before Chopper would let you leave with crutches. Several of the bones connecting your foot to your leg had broken on the impact of your fall, and it would be a long road to recovery. Usopp visited you to tell you funny stories, Sanji brought you your favorite food, and the others all came to visit and cheer you up, except for Zoro. Just when we were starting to get close, you thought to yourself. He kept his distance, sure of himself that you’d hate him now.

The longer he avoided you, the more you were certain he really did find you weak. Pathetic, you told yourself. I’m weak. He’d never like someone who couldn’t match his strength. When you were finally allowed to hobble around the ship on the crutches Franky built, you made it a mission to avoid Zoro too. The only times you had to interact were at meal times, and even then he’d just grab something and go back to the crow’s nest by himself. The rest of the crew couldn’t help but notice, but, they weren’t sure how to help.

Things came to a head when the Sunny docked at the next island. The crew had decided it might help to assign Zoro to ship guard duty/taking care of you duty, and since you couldn’t get off, maybe you’d get some time to talk things through. However, the both of you protested.

“I don’t need Zoro to look after me, he doesn’t need to bother himself with someone who’s so weak that they’re not worth checking on when they’re hurt!” you spat out. Zoro froze at your words, and it dawned on him that the last thing you said to him was that you thought you were weak. His avoiding you only reaffirmed that in your head, and he never bothered to check in with you or correct you. That explained your avoidance of him, even after you were released from the med bay. Before he could speak to you to finally explain, you had turned and hobbled back inside. “I’m going to go lay down, leave whoever you want on the ship for guard duty, but I’m fine.”

Zoro rushed to follow you, the rest of the crew standing around awkwardly as they tried to figure out what to do. By the time he got to your room, you had already gone inside and locked the door. He could hear you sobbing on the other side. He tentatively knocked, and waited for a response.

“Go away!” you yelled.

“Can we please talk?” he asked.

“No! Just leave me alone,” you sobbed.

He stood there for a moment, not sure how to go about this. He was never good at words, but they were all he had to get through to you now. If he could just say the right ones. “I don’t think you’re weak,” he started.

“What?” you asked in disbelief.

“I said I don’t think you’re weak,” he answered. “I never have. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

The door to the room unlocked, and it opened slowly to reveal your tear stained face. “Then why did you ignore me for nearly two weeks?” you asked. Your voice was barely audible but Zoro clung to every word. “I was sure you thought I was a weakling for getting so hurt just by falling down…”

“I… I don’t know,” he replied nervously. “I couldn’t face you after what I did to you. It’s my fault you’re hurt. I thought you’d blame me.”

“I never blamed you,” you told him softly.

The two of you stood in silence after that, both taking in what was said and both feeling stupid for not saying something sooner. This whole thing could have been avoided with a little more communication. After what felt like an eternity, Zoro couldn’t take it anymore, and he grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. It was passionate and needy, telling everything without the need for words as he pulled you closer to him. You relaxed into his arms, putting your own arms around his neck. When the two of you finally pulled away, neither of you could hide your smiles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” he started. “I’m just-”

“-not good at words?” you finished his sentence. “Yeah, I know. Just try to speak up next time, okay?”

“I’ll try,” he said. Sliding his hand in yours, he helped you hobble back up to the main deck and you both sat together and waited for the rest of the crew to return.

When the rest of the crew got back later, supplies in hand, they found Zoro sitting next to you, one arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and your head resting on his chest as you slept peacefully. His other hand was cradling your face, thumb rubbing your cheek softly, and he couldn’t help but to chuckle as the crew stared on in shock. They waited for an explanation, but he didn’t give one. After all, Zoro never was good with words.

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #x reader #roronoa zoro

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trippinsorrows · 4 months

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with me + part eleven

authors note: hi! i'm super sorry for the cliffhanger! i just have this thing where i need sections to be cohesive, and this chapter is much heavier than the previous, so i didn't wanna boggle ya'll down with all that angst!

i've also been thinking about the length of this story. currently, in terms of story timeline, we're at the very end of december 23', and i have ideas for up to may 24'. well, beyond that, but i don't want things to get stale, so i can end it around that time or keep it going? just curious because i don't want it to play out so long that it bores anyone. if that makes sense. just lmk.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angsttttt (parental neglect, abandonment, trauma) language, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, some fluff

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 6.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You knew as soon as he walked in that something was up.

In getting to know Joe, you’d also learned that he was, surprisingly, on the quiet side. He spoke with you, of course, but you learned he leaned more towards introverted than extroverted. It was kind of sweet and pretty surprising. But, you’d also learned there was a difference between him being his sometimes quiet self and when something was off, and something was definitely off.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to fuck it out of you?” He rolls his eyes, not even showing any excitement at the idea of fucking you. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. “Seriously, what’s up?”

He shrugs, playing it off clearly. “Just tired. Back to back matches.”

That's when you realize what it is. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, dismissively, and you cross your arms. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Take it off, or I’ll climb your big ass and take it off myself.” Joe blows out a breath. He has to know you’re dead serious. So, wordlessly, he lifts his shirt over his head and turns around.

You gasp almost immediately. “What the actual fuck?” Your hand reaches to touch him, but you stop yourself, knowing that his skin must be sensitive to the touch. His back is inflamed, red welts spread in different areas with a nasty bruise that looks like a borderline hematoma and other various cuts.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Shaking your head, you point to your room. “Go sit and wait for me on the bed.” He opens his mouth, and you lift a finger. “I don’t want to hear it. Get in there now.”

Surprisingly, he follows suit, and you start to move about, gathering the necessary supplies. Along the way, you experience a plethora of emotions but mostly bounce back and forth between irritation and concern.

You’re irritated that he didn’t just come out and say that he was hurt. You’re also concerned because he’s obviously in pain, and that bothers you. He doesn’t have to be, he didn’t have to be if he just said something.

Stubborn asshole.

With everything needed and placed in a cloth bag, you walk into your room and stretch your hand out to him. “Take this.”

Joe looks down at your open palm with a single pink pill. “What the hell is it?”

“Coke,” you answer with a straight face. Rolling your eyes, you answer, “Benadryl. It’ll help with the inflammation of the welts.”

“It’ll also knock me out.”

“We’ll we’re obviously not fucking with your back all messed up, so what else are you going to do?”

“Who said we can’t fuck?”

You sigh. “Joe, if you don’t just take this goddamn pill. With your size, you probably should take two, but I’m trying to be nice by only giving you one, so accept my kindness and swallow this damn pill or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

He sucks his teeth but also takes the pill from you followed by the water bottle tucked under your arm. “You’re a terrible nurse.”

“And you’re an awful patient. At least we’re both on the same page.” You wait for him to swallow it before taking the bottle from him. “Good, now lay on your stomach.”

He lifts his brow, asking, “why?”

“Oh my god, you’re as bad as my students.” Men when they’re sick or not feeling well are a special kind of torture you’re not sure why exactly you’re subjecting yourself to right now. “Just do it, please. I’m trying to help you here.”

He just looks at you, as if he has something else to say, probably so. But, he surprises you by staying silent and following your instructions.

Pleased, you climb on top of him, sitting on his ass to avoid irritating his already sensitive skin. “Okay, now this may hurt a little bit at first—”

He makes a sound underneath you. “Can’t hurt anymore than it already does.”

“If you had said something sooner, I could have helped you before now,” you scold, dropping the bag on the bed beside ya’ll. Men and their tendency to downplay pain will never cease to amaze you. The minute you start getting hit with cramps, you pop an ibuprofen.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’re in pain. That’s always a big deal.” Pulling out the ointment, you dab enough to your hand and start carefully massaging it into the welts. He hisses at your touch and you murmur an apology but don’t stop. It’s short term discomfort for long term benefits.

“What is this?” He asks.

“Calamine lotion,” you answer, adding on. “I have hydrocortisone too, but my grandma always said calamine works just as well without getting into your bloodstream. Don’t know how true it is, but it always worked for me, so it’ll work for you.”

He chuckles. “She sounded fun.”

Instantly, a smile is on your face as you continue to treat him. “Always. Summers with her were always the highlight of my year.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and you continue to work the lotion into his skin. Once pleased with the application, you move on to the next part. “Alright, I’m gonna apply some cold compresses. You’ll probably be out in another 20 minutes, so just leave em’ on, and I’ll come change em’ out while you’re sleeping.”

When he doesn’t push back, you pull the compresses out of your bag and strategically place them on different areas of his back to maximize the comfort. Once finished, you climb off of him and go to close up the blinds and curtains. “Alright, get some rest.”

You’re at the doorway when he says your name. “Yeah?”

A slight delay before he says, genuinely, “thank you.”

There’s something meaningful beyond just the obvious, and it brings a small smile to your face. Not that he can see that. So you settle on, “of course. You’re no good to me if you can’t fuck me.”

He laughs, loudly. “Shut up.”

Smile widening, you close the door. ________

Joe finds you a couple hours later in the kitchen, but it’s the state of you that gives him a pause and brings a smile to his face.

You’re dancing around, clad in one of his shirts and short shorts that your ass swallows up. Brief glimpses of your side profile reveal that you’re singing too, just in a low enough voice, probably not to disturb you.

He doesn’t know the specific song, but the voice is familiar enough for him to know it’s Taylor Swift. That definitely surprises him, though it shouldn’t. You have a weird ass taste in music to where he’s found you in the shower listening to some random rock song, other times, it was throwback R&B.

You were just so….different from anyone he’s ever known.

It’s one of the many reasons he’s so enamored with you.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile

It’s when you turn around, mid bite on a cookie that you finally notice his presence, smiling. “Hey. You’re up.”

“I am.” He nods, walking over to you. He gestures around the kitchen. “What is all this?”

You finish chewing and swallow before directing Alexa to pause the music. “Well, I finished my lesson planning and was bored, so I decided to bake. But then I got hungry for actual food, so I ordered takeout.”

“And the music?”

You shrug, taking another bite of your cookie. “I like the song. Don’t worry, it’s the only Taylor Swift song allowed in this African American household.”

He laughs and moves past you when you take the chance to assess his back, immediately noticing how the swelling and redness have decreased. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he answers, moving to the cartons, seeing that you made sure to order his favorites as well. “Thanks again.”

Smirking, you climb on the island, locking your ankles together. “Not so terrible nurse after all then, huh?”

“Your bedside manners still suck.”

“Shut up.” You watch him fix his food and when he gets ready to sit down on a bar stool, you hop off the counter, prompting, “come with me.”

“Where?”

“All these damn questions….” Grabbing a couple of cookies and placing them in a bowl, you find your sandals and slide them on your feet. “Just come on.”

“Let me at least put a shirt on.”

“Absolutely not. You need to let your skin breathe,” you lecture, taking him in, all of him. “Trust me, no one’s gonna see us, and even if they did, who the hell would complain about you being shirtless?”

Snatching the keys off the table, you open the door, allowing him to walk out first. You start to leave your door unlocked but decide against it. It’s an extremely safe town, but there’s always a first time for everything.

Locking it, you motion for him to follow you up the two sets of steps until reaching the heavy door that you turn the knob left and then right in order to open it. Joe’s immediately hit with a nice breeze and diminishing sunlight as the evening sets in.

“Come on,” you usher him to follow you to your favorite spot, sitting down and patting down on the ground next to you.

Joe chuckles, following suit. “Seriously?”

You ignore him, pushing on his shoulder as he brings his plate in front of him to eat. “I like to come out here sometimes to just get away. Especially if I need to clear my head. My grandma used to always say the closer you are to Heaven, the clearer you can hear God’s voice.”

He just watches you, the way the wind blows at your curls, making them splash at your face. Everything about you has always been stunning to him, but in this moment where you sit so relaxed and unbothered, he’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Plus, you obviously need to clear your head to bounce back from that ass whooping,” you snort, taking another bite of your cookie. One look at Joe’s scowl makes you giggle. “On one hand, it’s crazy to me you put your body through so much, but I also recognize your passion and dedication. So, I get it. I was an athlete too. Love of the game type shit.”

You can’t say that you would have ever continued to cheer if it left you the way Joe would come to you sometimes, but as someone who’s been in a similar situation, you understand it. And it’s so much more than just a job to him. It’s a legacy, in his bloodline. All he knows.

All he wants.

So, you support him.

You’ll always support him.

________

There’s the initial chaos that ensues in the minutes after your departure. Callie’s confusion. Joe’s confusion. Bianca’s utter confusion. And as Callie is right there, Joe can’t go immediately after you. He can’t and won’t leave her, so he does the best he can, offering apologies to Bianca and Co. before taking Callie and finding your mom who was catching up with an old friend in another part of the show.

He has some level of difficulty explaining what happened, other than the fact that you’d run off and he needed to find you. It’s really all of the information that he has to go off of, and when he’s finally able to get back to the apartment where he thinks you probably went. He's disappointed to find it empty. There’s brief moment of panic.

Just where the hell would you go?

He pulls out his phone to check again if you’ll pick up, but it goes straight to voicemail. He then starts to call your mom to ask her if she had any idea where you would be when he thinks about what happened. You were upset, very much so.

You needed to clear your head.

He knows exactly where you are.

On that same roof he sat on with you years prior is where Joe finds you, but what he doesn’t expect is the bottle of Hennessy that’s not only open but already halfway empty and sitting beside you.

He doesn’t try to hide his presence and is unsurprised when you ask, “How’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard,” he answers. It wasn’t. He remembers almost everything you’ve ever told him about yourself, including how this spot has always been your place to escape.

Just what were you escaping from is what has him stumped.

“Sit down.” You pat the space beside you much harder than what’s necessary. He sighs and asks for a minute, pulling out the phone and stepping away to make a call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Joe runs his hand over his face. “I got her, but….can you take Callie back to your place?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He looks over again at the bottle. “She’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” It sounds like she’s holding back a chuckle, like his words are humorous because everyone knows you don’t drink, and she says as such. “What do you mean she’s drunk? My child doesn’t even drink.”

“She did tonight” Joe’s eyes fall back over to you to see you still sitting, swaying slightly as if listening to music. There is no music. “And Callie doesn’t need to see her like this.” He especially knows you wouldn’t want her to see you like this.

Your mom sighs, heavily, on the other end. “You’ll stay with her, right?”

“Of course.” That’s not even a question. “And once I get her settled, if Callie is still up—”

“Oh, she’ll be up. She can’t fall asleep unless she talks to you or her mama.” It feels like an inappropriate response, but there’s a small part of Joe that finds joy in this. He remembers when you mentioned to him before that Callie needed to see and/or speak to you before she could fall asleep, a sign of how closely bonded you two were. To be added to that category means everything to him. “Thank you, Joseph.”

He sees no need in being thanked but acknowledges your mom’s appreciation anyway. “Of course.” The call ends, and he brings his focus back to you. The first thing he does is take away the bottle of Henny.

You see this and instantly scowl. “You’re no fun.”

He sits next to you, asking in a quiet voice, “what happened tonight, Y/N?” Joe is still utterly confused at all of this, your zero to one hundred change in demeanor. But, the fact that you resulted to drinking shows him just how heavy whatever it was has impacted you. “Talk to me.”

You laugh, but there isn’t an ounce of humor. “God, where do I start?” Your eyes light up, as if realizing something. “Oooh. I know where.” You lean into his shoulder, whispering, “I’m the product of an affair.”

This piece of information definitely takes him by surprise.

He's noticed you've never talked about your father, and he's never asked. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic, that much he could garner. But now, he knows just why it was sensitive.

“I don't—I don't know exactly what happened between them. She’s never really talked about it, but I do remember when I was younger, maybe—maybe a couple years older than Callie, he was—he was at the house.” You swallow, and Joe can see the distance in your eyes, like you’re no longer sitting here beside him. But someplace else. “She told me to go to my room, but I snooped at the top of the steps. Don’t….don’t really remember everything that was said except that she was literally begging this man to have some type of relationship with me, and he refused.” You laugh suddenly, and it’s so out of place, doesn't make sense given the nature of the conversation. But it does if he factors in the liquor coursing through your system. “He called me a m–mistake.”

Joe's heart aches at your words. “Baby—”

“When I was sixteen years old, I worked at a clothing store in town, and I saved up my money for this necklace…it was gold, and I thought—I thought it was so pretty. It made me feel fancy.” You chuckle, not as humorous this time, head tilting. “And once I finally got the necklace, I drove—I drove an hour away because…because after all those years, I still….I wanted to meet my father. I wanted…I wanted him to be in my life.”

“He’s uh—or was, I’m not sure anymore—captain of police in his town, so I went to the precinct to meet him, wearing that necklace that I worked months to save up for because…because I wanted to look nice. I remember walking into his office, and I was nervous, but—but I also figured there was no way he could reject me then. I—I was head cheerleader. A straight A student. I—I had just gotten a near perfect score on both my SAT and ACT. I was…I was a good kid, Joe.”

Your jaw fixes, and he can see you’re trying to hold back tears. It kills him to see you this upset. He’s never seen you this vulnerable. “And I—I told him all that. I told him I wanted to see if he wanted a relationship with me, and do you know what he told me?” You suddenly stand up, clearly intending to mimic this interaction. “A relationship? Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

You giggle, eyes watering. Joe frowns. He can’t even begin to fathom how someone can say something like that to their own flesh and blood.

“Oh, but that’s not even the best part.” You’re doing one hell of a job playing this all off as something that isn’t impacting you, no doubt thanks to the alcohol. But, he knows you well enough to know and even see where this is headed. “He—” you hiccup, covering your mouth to hide your giggles. “He said again that I was a mistake that he paid my mom to take care of and—” It’s starting to crack, the alcohol induced facade that all of this is fine, that you don’t care. Your voice starts to catch. “---that the money he gave her for an abortion was the biggest waste of money he ever spent.”

“Y/N—”

“Minutes later, his wife walked in and then—and then his daughter walked in, and I—I ran. I couldn’t….I couldn’t—we looked the same age, Joe. He had a daughter already, he–he didn’t need me. He didn't—he didn’t want me.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “And that’s fine, I—I didn’t care. I—I blocked that out after that day. I’d—I’d forgotten about him.” A beat. “Until tonight.”

“Because—because for the first time since I was sixteen years old, I was in front of all of them again. My—my—father, his wife, my—-”

Joe starts putting the pieces together. “Bianca….”

“She’s my sister,” you answer for him, having a hard time keeping it all in at this point. “She’s the one he’s proud of. She’s the one whose kid he claims as his grandchild. She’s the one he acknowledges. I’m just—I’m just the mistake he wishes was never born.”

Joe stands up, gradually moving toward you.

“I did everything right. I stayed out of trouble. I went to school. I got my degree. I did—-” He’s in front of you, gently pulling you into him as you finally break. “I don’t understand why he didn’t want me. I’m his daughter.” you finally shatter, crying into his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey—” Joe brings his hands to your face, making you look at him. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are an amazing, intelligent, beautiful woman, and I can’t even begin to describe how amazing of a mother you are.” He wipes away your tears as you clutch onto his shirt. “He doesn’t deserve you, baby. He doesn’t deserve to be in your life. He never did, and he never will. Fuck him. You don’t need shit from him. I’ve got you, okay? Always.” You allow him to hold you, to comfort you, because it’s just what you need in this moment. You tried to find it in solitude, tried to find it at the bottom of a liquor bottle, but it was all in vain. You just needed him.

Joe holds you as long as you allow him, letting you cry it out until he's eventually able to guide you into returning to your apartment.

But outside the door is when you hesitate.

He notices this, immediately asking, “what’s wrong?”

Your eyes start watering again. “Callie…I—I don’t want her to—”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head. “I asked your mom to take her back to her place. I’ll go check on her after I get you straight.”

This seems to settle some of your anxiety, and he continues to guide you into your bedroom. He helps you out of your clothes and into a simple t-shirt that he recognizes as one of his own.

Joe moves all of your decorative pillows, placing them on the chair in the corner of your room as you pull back the blankets. He turns around to find you reaching for his hand, tugging him towards the bed. “Just—just until I fall asleep.”

He doesn’t object. Joe planned to stay with you until then anyway.

He undresses enough to climb into bed with you, and you waste no time burying yourself into his chest, feeling an instant sense of peace when he wraps his strong arms around you. You’ve always felt so safe and protected in his embrace, and in this moment, it’s everything you need.

“I realized something tonight,” you mumble into his skin. Joe’s hand is under your shirt, hand moving soothing circles on the small of your back. “I—I didn’t keep Callie from you because of your wife. That was part of the reason, but it wasn’t the main reason.” You lift your head, throat feeling pressured as you allow yourself to finally admit, “the truth is that I was terrified you would reject her the way my dad rejected me, and I never wanted her to feel that way. And I know now that you would never do that to her, but I—I didn’t know then, and I was so wrong, and I’m so sorry. I—”

“Hey—” He cuts you off, hand going to palm your cheek. “Don’t do that. I understand why you did it now, I do. You were trying to protect her. I can’t be upset with you for that. I’m not.” He studies your face, your eyes, always so beautiful to him. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you for too long.”

It’s not a lie. Joe’s always thought he’s known you like the back of his hand, learned you so well, but tonight has shown him that he didn’t know everything. He’ll never get back the time he missed out on with Callie, and maybe on some level there will always be a slither of resentment. But, it’s not enough for him to notice and most definitely not enough for him to actually feel.

He’s not quite sure how he could find it in him to hold your decision against you. It didn’t come from a place of selfishness or vindictiveness but love and protectiveness. You just wanted to keep her from experiencing the pain and trauma you’d endured.

There was no faulting that.

And you accept his grace, so understanding and considerate. You feel slightly undeserving but immensely grateful that he can extend such empathy.

You’re quiet after that, eyes shut as you work to turn off your brain and decompress what’s inarguably been one of the most difficult days of your life. You’re almost in the early stages of sleep when his voice invades the quietness.

“I love you.” Joe doesn’t feel any sort of movement at his confession, doesn’t feel you tense or relax. He’s not even sure if you’re still awake, but still, he continues. “I’ve always loved you, and I don’t even know how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter because I’ve always imagined telling you under much different circumstances anyway.”

“I want to be with you,” he continues. “I’ve always wanted to be with you, and I’m sorry for not putting you first. You deserved better than that. I should have gotten divorced long before I even met you. And that’s….something we eventually need to talk about. I owe you that much.”

He wants to say more, so much more, but he also knows now is not the time given he’s almost certain you’re asleep. Hence why he finally slips out of bed, knowing he needs to check on Callie.

He doesn’t leave without caressing your cheek and kissing your temple, relieved that you’re finally getting some rest following what was inexplicably an emotionally draining day.

But you’re not asleep, and you did hear it.

You heard it all.

________

“Who are you?”

Joe walked into your moms house, not expecting anyone other than your mom and Callie. Only one of those individuals are present, and the other is a man he’s never in his life seen before but automatically doesn’t like. Just his aura seems off.

Joe especially hates that this man is in the same house as his little girl.

Your mom seems taken back by this side of him and explains, “Joe, this is Amir. He’s, uhh, an old friend of Y/N. He saw her run off and wanted to check in on her.”

The day's events are definitely a contributing factor as Joe feels exhausted, both mentally and physically, but hearing that this is the infamous Amir instantly angers him. What the hell is he doing here?

“You bold as hell coming here.” is all Joe says, redirecting his attention to your mom. “Y/N tell you that she found out he and Mariah been sleeping with each other?”

What he wants to say is that they’ve been fucking, but he wants to remain respectful. Even if it is hard as hell.

Your mom is looking, mouth ajar, between Joe and Amir. “Wh–what is he talking about, Amir?”

“So you’re the one that’s been feeding those lies into her.” Deflection. It’s a typical bitch move. “You talking a lot of shit for someone who abandoned his own kid and just came back on the scene like ain't nothing happened.”

If not for the fact that you’ve already explained to Joe that you’d never told Amir what really happened between you and him because it was none of his business, Joe would have been livid. He would never abandon you. And definitely never Callie. Ever.

He’d have been with you every fucking step of the way the minute you found out you were pregnant if he’d been given the chance.

But all of that is no business of this asshole’s.

“You can say or think whatever the hell you want about me. It doesn’t matter. You’re irrelevant, regardless, so the same way you walked your ass in here is the same way you can walk your ass right on out.”

“Apparently not to Y/N.” He’s smug, and it takes a tremendous amount of willpower for Joe to not lay this man out right then and there. He doesn’t know why you would ever settle for the likes of this prick. “Not with how many times she ended up in my bed.”

Joe partially forgot your mom was even in the same vicinity until she gasps loudly, clearly disgusted, “my Lord. Please, this is my daughter you’re speaking about.”

With a low chuckle, Joe tries his best to remain respectful yet still abundantly clear. “And how many times has she reached out to you since I’ve been back?” His silence is all the answer Joe needs, not that he really needs one at all. Joe knows you have eyes and desire for him and him alone. He just needs to prove a point to this motherfucker. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from my girlfriend and especially my daughter, cause the next time it won’t be no conversation.”

And before Amir can say or even, stupidly, do anything, a new smaller voice enters the scene.

“Daddy!”

Joe is unsure if he’ll ever get over the joy that fills him at being called that. Callie is at the top of the steps but proceeds to rush down when she sees him, Joe leaning down and catching her, picking her up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kisses her cheek, noticing almost immediately how tired she looks. Understandable, as it’s almost 11 o’ clock, far past her bedtime. Uncomfortable with this Amari or whatever the fuck his name is being so close to Callie, Joe starts leading her back up the stairs.

With a frown, she asks the question he was expecting. “Where’s mommy?”

“She’s back at the apartment sleeping.” Joe is unsure just how to explain tonight’s events to Callie, not really knowing how to help her understand what occurred, if at all possible. “I’ll take you to see her tomorrow morning as soon as she wakes up.”

Joe walks her into her room at your mom’s place and seats her on the bed, sitting next to her. “What’s wrong with her?”

Such a simple question in wording and massively difficult in every other area, especially when one considers Callie’s young age.

“Mommy saw someone who was very mean to her when she was little, and it made her sad, so….she just wanted to be alone.” It’s the best, simplest answer that’s not a lie he can come up with on the spot.

Callie’s frown deepens. “I don’t want mommy to be sad.”

“Neither do I, baby,” he murmurs. “But, I talked with her, and she should start feeling better soon, okay?”

Her frown diminishes slightly, and Joe can tell she’s in thought. She then asks, “are you gonna go stay with mommy tonight?”

“I was, but I can stay with you, if you want me to.” Joe knows you’ll probably sleep throughout the night because of the alcohol and more importantly, if Callie needs him, he’s there. No questions asked.

You would do the same.

She suddenly shakes her head. “Mommy stays with me when I’m sad, so someone’s gotta stay with her while she’s sad.” Her face grows sullen again as she asks with a yawn, “do you still have to leave tomorrow morning?”

“No, I leave tomorrow night instead.”

In the midst of all of tonight’s chaos, he’d managed to switch flights, picking an evening one instead. Joe let Hunter know there was a family emergency, and that he’d be back later than initially expected. Hunter was understanding, and while he was grateful for that, it didn’t really make a difference.

You and Callie come first.

She’s obviously partially pleased with this information and moves her body against his, laying her head on his arm. “I’m sleepy….”

Reaching to caress her cheek with his finger, he directs, “get some rest, Callie. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

She doesn’t say anything, just closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, a mere matter of minutes really. He stays with her longer though, just to be sure, needing to know she’s okay.

He needs both of yall to be okay.

________

You wake up with an instant sense of unease and discomfort. Your head is throbbing, and your body feels heavy. Your chest feels pressured, like there’s some invisible weight on it.

But in a matter of seconds, it all comes rushing back to you. The fireworks. Bianca. Seeing your dad. Running. Drinking.

"I love you."

Eyes shutting, you do your best to settle your brain because only one thing is at the front of your mind when you hear giggling coming from outside of your closed door.

Callie

Just how in the hell did your brief mental breakdown affect your child?

Pushing the blankets off, it’s then you notice the bottle of water and white pill sitting on your nightstand. Picking it up, you see it’s Advil.

“Joe…..” you whisper, realizing he must have left it here waiting for you once you woke up. Eyes watering at his thoughtfulness, you swallow it and head straight for the bathroom. You need to get cleaned up and get out there to see what kind of damage you’ve unintentionally inflicted on your child’s psyche.

You know how attached she is to you and don’t even allow yourself to think about how difficult it must have been to be so abruptly ripped away.

Especially when you’re the one who did the ripping.

The shower is kept to a minimum, and once your teeth are brushed and face clean, you don’t hesitate to step out of the room. Following the path of sound, in the kitchen is where you find Callie. With Joe.

They’re sharing a quiet laugh, and you’re certain it’s quiet because he told her you needed your rest. Always looking out for you.

However, it’s when Callie happens to glance your way that her eyes go big.

“Mommy!”

She surprisingly climbs off the counter instead of outright jumping and runs over to you. You kneel down to meet her for her hug, so tight and welcoming. “Do you feel better?”

“Oh baby, I’m always better when I get to see you.” Kissing her forehead, you add, gently, “mommy’s sorry for scaring you.” And it's true. You never meant to scare her or make her worry about you, and it's something you'll work as hard as necessary to make up to her.

But your sweet child surprises you with her authentic, mature reassurances. “It’s okay. Daddy said you were sad,” she explains and gasps. “I made you something to make you smile!”

Touched, you palm her cheek. She really is the light of your life. “I’d love to see it, baby.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you take the opportunity to talk to Joe. Wordlessly, you move over to hug him.

“Thank you.” There’s not enough thank yous to show him just how appreciative you are to have him in your life, to have him as Callie’s father. He took such control yesterday while you were busy drowning in your daddy issues. And now he’s still here when you’re almost certain that he was supposed to have flown out at the crack of dawn. “I’m really sorry about last night. That’s not—-I don’t get drunk. I would never leave Callie like that—“

“I don’t care about any of that,” he dismisses. You believe him, as he looks entirely uninterested in any explanation you want to provide him because he sees it as unnecessary. He takes the back of hand to feel your forehead. “How are you feeling? Did you take the Advil?”

Nodding, you try again, “seriously, Joe. You’ve changed your whole schedule around—“

“You needed me,” he answers. “There was nothing to think about.”

And the tears are brewing again, but for very different reasons. This man is everything you’ve always wanted and dreamed of, even better. And he loves you. He wants to be with you. Your daughter's father wants to establish a life with you, be a family. What logical reason do you have to continue to deny him? Deny yourself?

“Joe…..” Licking your lips, you place your hands on his chest. “I lo—”

“Here it is, mommy!”

Callie’s interruption is both perfect and imperfect timing. You want so badly to tell him that you love him too, that you also want to be with him. But maybe it’s not the best timing, maybe the setting should be different.

You want him to know you love him not just because of the aftershocks of vulnerability. That you’re in love with him and have been since you were 23 years old.

Callie is at your legs, holding up a drawing she created of you surrounded by hearts. Her artwork has always been her favorite form of expression, and you’re so grateful for her pure, kind heart in this moment.

Holding it against your chest, you lean down to accept her hug. “Thank you so much, baby. I love it.”

“Yay!” She rejoices and then looks up between the two of you. “Daddy and I made you breakfast!”

Gasping, you ask, “really?” It’s only then you notice the kitchen, while cleaner than one would expect after preparing breakfast with a four-year-old, you see the counters that have food laid out on a variety of plates and tupperware. “Waffles?”

“Your favorite.” Joe reaches to kiss your temple, and lightly pats your hip. “Sit down, we’ll fix it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest when Callie takes your hand and guides you to the barstools and scampers back over to Joe who picks her up, holding her with one arm while the other fixes your breakfast for you. He allows her to point and dictate what goes on your plate and how it’s fixed.

And you sit there, allowing yourself to take in this moment. There’s so much you need to navigate and sort through. Bianca, your dad, Mariah, hell, even finally being honest with Joe about your feelings. But, all of that can wait.

Because all that matters right now are the two people you love most in this world.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook #black writers

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spacebubblehomebase · 8 months

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Told ya'll I wasn't done with this! 🧩 Today's Batgirl is the genius behind most of the Batfamily's operations, Barbara Gordon! Known to most as the commissioner's daughter. She is also our one and only Oracle who now oversees Gotham with a daredevil past and a know-it-all look in her eyes. Basically, she's like the eldest who's long been tired of everyone's bull, but is always the first to enable them anyway. LMAO. (So like me-) And since I've finally drawn all of the (main) Batgirls at least once, I'm obligated to ask, "Who's your favorite Batgirl and why?" Care to share? 👀 I'd love to know! ^v^ -Bubbly💙

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thefangirlfever · 8 months

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dbf! Miguel O'hara x reader (headcanons)

Notes: I've been inspired ya'll...

•dbf! Miguel who after meeting you starts caring a bit more about his appearance. It's small changes like his hair, his perfume... but it helps him feeling more confident when he goes talk to you. He is very aware of what he would look like standing next to you, an old man who is just ridiculous for even thinking about you the way he does. Even if he tried to be more confident about all of this, he can't help himself. He feels like a teenager again, waiting at your front door while stroking his hair in a nervous way, hoping you won't notice the creases around his eyes or the salt and pepper hair against his temples.

•dbf! Miguel who picks you up when he sees you walking back home with your arms filled with groceries bags. He is trying to make small talk during your ride back home but he can't look you in the eyes because he knows he would be too weak to hold your gaze. Especially when the Sun hits your eyes in a certain way and makes them glow as if they were filled with golden chunks.

•Of course he does that elbow thing when he parks his car in front of your house, which makes his hand brush against your shoulder.

•dbf! Miguel who always brings leftover to your sick father. But since you moved back in town, he brings food more often and at some point you end up suspecting that he is actively making dishes to bring to your house and not just keeping the leftovers.

•You always give him his Tupperware (clean and empty) with a sticky note on top. And he makes sure to keep every single notes you gave to him.

•At some point the two of you communicate only via those sticky notes. If you're not home when he leaves the dishes, you can be sure to find one bright note scribbled with his thin, and very elegant, letters.

•It's an habit for him to stay and have dinner with your father and you at least once a week. Miguel always helps you making the dinner and if he can't, he always brings something.

•You're not the best cook in town but at least you're trying and you manage to do something. He is very patient when helping you cooking but he eilk probably never stop laughing thinking about that time you tried to do a roux.

•After every one of these dinners, he stays with your dad. They usually like playing cards or things like this. When you're too tired and can't play with them anymore, you leave for your room kissing your father good night but stopping in front of Miguel, not knowing exactly what you were about to do.

•The two of you look at each other without moving when you finally tell him good night, and he swears he could listen to you saying this to him every night and he wouldn't see any problem in this. His eyes follow you while you go up the stairs, unto that unknown territory of the house where he never went. And for a second, he feels his heart pounding in his chest, while you disappear into the shadows of the stairs, wondering what would happen if one day he followed you...

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I feel like I'm giving you crumbs right now but I want to take more time writing more about the story... So, here are a few ideas I got ! Hope you liked it!

#miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderverse #atsv miguel #fanfic #miguel x reader #dbf!miguel

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eldritchcreatureofwords · 16 days

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I'm a little tired of seeing the 'Stolas should have defended Blitz at Ozzies!!!!' posts/takes. 1. Blitz caused that entire situation. Start to finish. He wasn't supposed to be there, he wasn't there under genuine pretenses, and he shouldn't have said anything when Moxxie was coming under fire.

But but but, you say, Moxxie was being bullied! Blitz was standing up for his friend!!!! He's protective that way!!!! You aren't wrong, but if you notice, Moxxie doesn't actually seem that upset or flustered by what Ozzie and Fizz are doing. After they go after him the first time, he continues singing his original song, not changing a thing, fully unintimidated. Moxxie is a sweet, sensitive boy, but he's also strong, smart, and not a delicate little princess. He's not happy he's under fire and being mocked, he's upset his moment is being bashed and ruined, but he's also standing his ground and dealing with it.

Blitz had good intentions but he only escalated a situation further and made everything much worse, as well as bringing the fire towards himself- and his red buttons are much bigger and easily pressed then Moxxie's. (Also, if you watch Moxxie's face, he looks horrified when Blitz speaks up. It's very, very possible that he knows Verosika is there already (and that's part of why he didn't want Blitz there.) 2. Stolas did get up to help. Go and watch Ozzie's again guys. He rises when Verosika gets Blitz backed against the stage, pupils showing, concerned and upset. Everything about his body language after that suggests he fully intends to step in. I've seen people accuse Stolas of trying to sneak out during this moment, and if you pay even an iota of attention that's clearly wrong.

Then, he is dragged into the spotlight. Called out, put under a microscope, and physically, bodily manhandled. Stolas is shy. He is introverted. He has been kept isolated from basically everyone his entire life. He's terrified of losing his daughter. He's ashamed of what happened to him. He's a mother fucking abuse survivor. And now he is being called out, confronted, and harassed over something he's just barely coming to terms with himself.

Of course he didn't react super well to that. Of course he wasn't the white knight blazing in to save Blitz.

What did ya'll who think this want him to do, stand up, yell I LOVE BLITZ THE IMP AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS????? at the top of his lungs, magically shedding every ounce of trauma, changing his personality to a brazen extrovert, and learning a lifetime of social skills all in that one moment through the power of love? He hid behind his menu because he is shy. He is scared. He is traumatized. Not because he's ashamed. But because all ya'll are so focused on Blitz, on his trauma and his hurt (and he is traumatized and hurt, and he has the right to be, and no one is downplaying that) that you're choosing to overlook Stolas's in favor of just saying he's a big ol' mean meanie. And finally:

3. Blitz brought that night on himself. Look, I'm sorry. Blitz wasn't supposed to be there. He had many, many opportunities to rethink his rash, impulsive, hasty choices that night. Many, many chances to reconsider lying to his situationship, taking advantage of Stolas's naive eagerness to be around him, sneaking into a place his friends don't want him to be, speaking up in defense of Moxxie- all of it. I am not saying he deserved what happened. I am saying that he brought Stolas there under false pretenses, went somewhere he wasn't supposed to go, and then stirred the pot. He did this because he's traumatized. Because he's lonely. because he's protective. Because he's desperately and not mentally well and hurting deeply and doesn't think Stolas sees him as anything but a fuck toy- or at least, wants to think that. Doesn't dare hope it could be more because he's not allowed to have more.

But he still did it.

#helluvaboss #stoltiz #blitzø #stolas #millie helluvaboss #moxxie helluvaboss #fizzarolli

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 4 months

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Not About the Sleep

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

A/N: I've been Going Thru It this last week, but I've been wanting to post something for ya'll for months. So I wrote this for myself to share :)

Your phone was on the other end of the room. It buzzed occasionally, but you never bothered to get up and check it. Curling in on yourself, you closed your eyes, waiting to drift back off to sleep.

A few knocks on your door caused you to inhale sharply.

“Helllooooo? You in there? You alive?” It was Lucifer. You ignored the concerned edge in his voice.

“I’m alive,” you responded back, not bothering to move or open your eyes. “I’m just tired.”

There was a long pause. “Wellllll… Can I come in? Is that okay?” Lucifer then started muttering, “Will Alastor kill me if I go in? No, there’s no way. Well, maybe? Gah! I don’t know.”

When there wasn’t a response, you heard the door creak open lightly. Opening your eyes, you managed to sit up a little. Lucifer stood in the doorway, dressed casually. He was fidgeting with his apple cane, looking around at your messy room.

“Oh, man,” he whispered, before clearing his throat. “Do you… want to come downstairs? For lunch? Charlie cooked this time, she’s excited to show you.”

Sighing a little, you shook your head. “I’m alright. Thanks for the offer, though.” You’d expected that to be it, already grabbing the covers to pull back over your shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucifer sounded serious this time, more serious than he’d ever spoken to you before.

“I’m just tired, Luci.” You gave him a small smile to reassure him, but he didn’t look reassured. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

Lucifer swallowed. He stopped fidgeting now, his apple cane firmly on the ground. “You’ve been sleeping for over fifteen hours. You and I both know it’s not about sleep at this point.”

You were quiet. Logically, you knew he was right. Of course he was right. He’d know the best of everyone here. But you just wanted to sleep. There was nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix, right? You’d be right as rain by dinner, you were sure of it.

“I’m fine, Lucifer.” Your tone was colder than you’d meant it to be, silently apologizing to your first. “Tell Charlie I’ll have some of her leftovers or something later.”

Pulling the covers over your head, you firmly shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you again. That was all you needed. Just a little more sleep.

As Lucifer pulled the door closed, you could’ve sworn you’d heard him say something, but you missed it.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you considered Lucifer’s words. “We both know it’s not about sleep at this point.” He was wrong, surely. You hadn’t gotten like that in ages, not since Alastor had come back. You’d been fine for so long, and you were always able to catch it. Always able to say something, to let someone know you needed help. You would know if something was wrong. And nothing was wrong. You were just tired. That was it.

But what if he was right? What if it was getting bad again? You couldn’t bear to think about it, especially now that Alastor was here to talk reason into you. The things you’d considered while Alastor was gone scared you even now, and you had sworn you’d never let things get that bad ever again.

You were just overreacting, that was all. It was the weather, surely, or something like that. Everything would be fine. Everything was always fine. It was fine. You were fine.

Your senses came to you slowly. You must’ve finally fallen back to sleep, but who in their right mind would wake you back up? What part of, “I just need some sleep,” did people not understand?

The crackling of jazz music is what you heard first, followed by the familiar sound of Alastor’s humming. It was dark outside now (not that it made a difference with the curtains closed) and a few lights had been turned on in your room. The entire place was filled with dim, orange light.

Oh, no. Not Alastor. Of all people, you really didn’t want to see Alastor.

There was no pretending to be asleep around Alastor. He could usually hear as soon as you woke up and your breathing picked up again. With a groan, you sat up, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

“Ah! Good evening, my dear!” Alastor said cheerily. He was folding your clothes at your desk. The same clothes, you realized, that had been laying in a basket untouched for a week. “I took the liberty of cleaning your room for you, I do hope you don’t mind.”

“Alastor, why… I… thought I locked the door after Lucifer left.” A glass of water sat at your bedside, still cold. You obviously hadn’t put it there.

“You did!” Alastor smiled. “I don’t care for locks, you know. Do drink some water, dearest.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at him, but Alastor was quick to match your gaze. Rather than start an argument you knew you’d lose, you drank some of the water as asked. Actually, you ended up drinking the whole glass. You hadn’t even realized how thirsty you were.

“Imagine my surprise when Lucifer, of all people, came to tell me he was worried about you. I laughed at him, of course. Worried about you? Preposterous! You’d tell me if you were ill, I assured him, but…” Alastor paused, folding your final piece of laundry. “Dear Husker informed me how my absence affected you, so I thought a little drop-in wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fuck those guys,” you muttered to yourself, massaging the bridge of your nose. “I just need some sleep, Al, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I said!” Alastor declared, clearly happy someone agreed with him. “But then Miss Charlie went on and on about some sort of ‘mental health’ nonsense. It was all quite annoying.”

Alastor started skillfully putting your clothes away. It was clear he knew exactly where everything went. How, you had no idea, but this was Alastor we were talking about.

He continued, “but I saw the sorry state of your room! How appalling! But I wasn’t about to wake you, so I did a little spring cleaning. Rosie is always telling me how a little cleaning can do a lot to improve a person’s mood. Speaking of Rosie, she was telling me about the most dastardly customer she had to deal with the other day! I brought back a little bit of them for you.”

So you sat there in your bed, listening to Alastor talk about his week while he cleaned your room. It did manage to bring a small smile to your face, especially once Alastor started slipping jokes into his stories.

You were going to have to get Lucifer and Husk back for ratting you out, but that was a problem for later. For now, all you had to worry about was Alastor not rearranging your whole room so he could do who-know-what to it. And you’d have to tell Rosie she was right about the whole cleaning thing, but part of you knew it wasn’t just about the cleaning.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x reader queerplatonic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin alastor #rhys-writes #its short but idc #alastor loves you (platonically)

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blossomwritesthings · 4 months

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 & 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐬

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: brief depictions of violence/a person getting jumped, and the aftermath of that. smut that includes: unprotected sex, breast play, dirty talk, riding, slight breeding kink, creampie, lots of making out, y/n and felix are basally two switches in this ngl. please take care in reading.

word count: 6.2k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: you guys, I swear to GOD that I did not fucking forget about this fic!!! 💀 trust me, I see all of the msgs and comments in my inbox across my platforms. I've just been too busy and tired from my daily life to keep up with writing much these days. on top of that, I don't feel particularly inclined to write straight-coupled smut rn. plus, my long-distance girlfriend just left from her weekend visit, so besides uni and work, she's been keeping me quite busy. 🤭 anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed the end of this small series of mine, and thanks for all of the love you guys have shown it over the past year~!! 💗

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The worst thing about the next two weeks after your moment with Felix in his bedroom was that the entire time, Chris didn’t even reach out once.

There were no calls, no texts, no emails, no letters.

Just… nothing.

And that hurt the most out of everything else.

Pretty soon after your night spent over at Felix’s house, you came to terms with the end of the relationship. With the cheating and all the other shit.

But the one thing you couldn’t shake was the fact that there was complete radio silence on his end.

He didn’t even try to fight for you.

Didn’t even do his very best to get you back.

Instead, he just kept living his life, while he continued to fuck your best friend.

Yeji, on the other hand, had texted and called you at least a dozen times. None of which, you replied to.

She was acting like you two were in a romantic relationship. Like she was Chris in the situation.

It took her showing up to Angel Waves on a busy Friday night to finally be your breaking point. You were fed up with her bullshit. What ensued was a huge blowup between the two of you at the front of the restaurant.

But mostly, it was just you screaming. You who was the one who yelled at the top of your lungs, the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

For the most part, Yeji stayed silent. Just standing there and taking the brunt of all your hatred and disgust. And finally, when you told her you guys were done… that the friendship was officially over, that’s when she started to protest.

Soon, she was yanking on your hands, begging you to ‘not do this,’ and to ‘think it over some because-‘ But you had heard enough. From the moment you saw that long-ass text thread between her and your boyfriend, it had been over.

And just like that, the friendship was broken, and you were having your father escort her out of AW. Before you knew it, he was telling her never to come back again, and never to grace the doorstep of your house, otherwise he’d press charges. Since you had told your parents about the breakup and everything else that had happened along the way, they were fully on board with protecting you from the people who had hurt you so much.

Thankfully, Yeji didn’t go any further. As quickly as she had shown up at the front door of Angel Waves, she was gone. Forever. Good riddance to her, you said to yourself as you watched her walk down the side of the restaurant and towards the parking lot.

Perhaps the worst part about those two weeks after the breakup was the fact that you hardly got to see Felix. Between you grieving the relationship alone late at night in your room, studying homework, and waitressing at AW, you hardly had any free time to yourself to reach out to him.

But because Felix was… well, Felix, he made it a point to text you every single morning and night. Checking up on you and letting you know he was always there, rooting for you. That his door was always open in case you wanted to talk.

And for the most part, you found that you were doing okay. You wanted to be left alone in your thoughts. At least, for a little while. Yet, late at night, when your eyes were puffy from crying and your throat was scratchy, you’d look out of your bedroom window and watch the dark tidal waves ripple in the distance.

The changes in the blue colors of the ocean felt like your feelings throughout that time. One moment they were crystal clear, the next they were the deepest shade of cerulean. Through it all, you were lucky to have Felix by your side. Silently supporting you from afar.

That’s why, when Han Jisung showed up one random Thursday night to Angel Waves during a lull, you were confused out of your mind. He had already been served and was chowing down on a huge burger and fries. When you walked up to him, already smoothing down your apron and dress, he didn’t even pay you any attention.

“Uhm- Ji, what the fuck are you doing here?” You asked incredulously. Because although you guys were friends, he hadn’t frequented the restaurant much, quoting that it was ‘much too bougie for his taste.’

At the sound of your voice, he looked up from his plate and flashed you a wide grin just as he stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth. “Goddamn- this shit is good… did you know that, Y/N?” He laughed as he took another bite out of the burger.

Rolling your eyes at him, you looked around the restaurant to make sure you weren’t needed elsewhere before you sat down in the booth’s seat across from him. “Yeah, because my parents own the fucking place.” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow his way as he grinned at you from behind his burger. “But I don’t think you came here tonight to devour a burger. So… what’s up?”

He took a swig of his chilled bottle of coke before finally answering your prodding. “Did you know that Chris is in the hospital right now?”

And just like that, your entire world stopped.

Everything came to a standstill.

The noise, hustle and bustle. The energy flowing throughout Angel Waves honed down to a single point as you focused on Jisung’s words.

Because… what, the actual, fuck?

Leaning forward in your seat slowly, you could feel your heart beat wildly against your ribcage as your eyes grew in shock. “I’m sorry- what?”

Jisung shrugged nonchalantly like this news was completely mind-blowing. “Yeah, Jeongin texted me last night, guess he visited him in the ER yesterday. Rumor has it he got jumped or something…” Then he was leaning forward too, eyes floating around the room before locking onto yours and dropping his voice down into a whisper. “But c’mon, a jump in Bridgeport? No fucking way. My bet is, he got mixed up in the wrong crowd involving drugs or some shit.”

“Chris. Got. Jumped.” You said slowly, shaking your head in disbelief as your mind started spinning with millions of thoughts. But the one that came to the forefront, you blurted out immediately. “How bad is it? It must be pretty horrible if it landed him in the ER.”

Jisung was busy stuffing his face with more burger and talked between chewing. “Beats me- Jeongin mentioned something about a few broken bones and some really bad cuts, but I’m sure that fucker will survive no problem.” Since everything that had happened between you and Chris within the past few weeks, Jisung had also cut all ties with him and officially hated his guts. “Serves him right, honestly, from the kind of freakish shit he pulled with you and Yeji…”

After that, Jisung kept talking. But you couldn’t hear him, couldn’t pay attention to him any longer.

Because all you could think about was what Felix had told you a few days prior. How he had to go out of town for the weekend to complete some “interviews” for a dance instructor position he was interested in. He had mentioned something about it being a few hours away, but so suddenly, everything was clicking.

How he told you not to worry if he didn’t reply to your calls and texts.

How he said he’d be back late at night that Wednesday.

You were shooting up from your seat after that, checking the current time on your phone. It read just a little past eleven at night. Hopefully, Felix was still up. Hopefully, he was home.

When Jisung noticed you moving away from the table, he grabbed ahold of your hand to stop you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

“I think I know who did it.” You began, giving him the look. Jisung’s eyes searched your entire face, and for a moment, you automatically knew when it clicked in his mind. When it registered, with stark clarity.

“He did what he had to do.”

“It’s fucking illegal, Ji.”

Shrugging nonchalantly for the second time that night, Jisung took a dainty sip of his coke. “I mean, if it was me- Chris wouldn’t even be alive at this point.”

You pushed on his shoulder, scoffing lowly. “Well then, good thing you’re not in the same position.” And with that, you were fleeing from the restaurant entirely, ripping off your apron and throwing it on a nearby barstool as you made your way out the back entrance.

Felix’s house rose against the horizon in the distance. You broke out into a run, turning breathless fairly quickly from the adrenaline and worry running through your veins. As you got closer to the white-wooden paneled house, you noticed how most of the lights were switched off.

Save for the one in his bedroom.

Taking in a deep breath of relief, you made to climb up the porch and hoist open his bedroom window. Just like he had taught you all those years ago when you’d sneak into his bedroom after curfew during high school.

The fucking pane wasn’t even unlocked - figured, since he trusted the police officers a little too much in Bridgeport - and soon, you were climbing through the window and sitting down at the edge of his bed.

The nearby bathroom light was on, the warmth radiating from the crack of the door near the floorboards, and you could hear water running just behind the door.

Holding your breath, your hands twisted together with your nervousness. The air suddenly felt so fucking stifling and warm, yet you could feel the gooseflesh running down the lengths of your bare arms as you sat there.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such a thin white tank top when it was on the chillier side of a summer night. Looking down, you realize just how short your ripped shorts were. They rode up your thighs as you sat there across his bed, and you hastily pulled them down to save some form of modesty.

Before you could fix up any other part of yourself, the bathroom door was swinging open and the trapped light was flooding across the entire dimly-lit bedroom. The warmth cascaded across your skin, and when you looked up from the ground, Felix was illuminated by it.

He was… shirtless.

With… messy, dripping wet hair and a pair of loose black sweatpants haphazardly thrown on.

“Y/N- uh, what are you doing here?” He asked hesitantly, running his hands through the back of his hair in the way he always did when he was taken aback. “I just got back from a swim, I didn’t-“

“Is it true?”

“Is… what true?” He raised a dark, perfectly manicured eyebrow your way as he neared his desk. Reaching out, he squirted out a tiny bit of lotion onto his delicate fingers and gently patted the product onto his skin.

“The fact that Chris is in the fucking hospital right now.”

“Oh. That,” he didn’t even seem surprised to hear your words, meaning that he had already heard about it. He rubbed a small amount of emulsion onto his cheeks before flashing you with a tiny grin, staring at you through the mirror. “Minho told me this morning. Heard it’s pretty bad.”

“Show me your hands, Felix.” You said, voice low and icy against your tongue. For a moment, Felix stopped his movements at the desk. He just stared at you from the mirror that was hung on the wall in front of it. And when he made no sign of moving, of heeding your words, you pressed again. “Felix. Show me your fucking hands.”

Felix raised an eyebrow your way, as he closed the bottle of lotion and placed it back on its glass holder atop his desk. “I’m at no liberty to do what you say. You can’t tell me what to do, angel… As much as you probably want to.”

The way the pet name sounded coming from his mouth did something funny to your insides just then. The way it twisted around his tongue and came out softly yet a little bit harsh, too, twisted up everything inside of you and made you want to scream out loud.

But you didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him, or for him.

And before your heart could catch up to what your brain was doing, you were standing up from the bed and your legs were stretching across the floor. The length between the desk and bed frame wasn’t long. And before you knew it, you were just beside Felix, taking ahold of his hands and bringing them into your line of vision.

They were…

Bruised.

Badly cut.

And various shades of violent reds and purples.

Half of his hands were bandaged up, the other halves were completely open.

“Felix… what-”

Yanking his hands out of your hold, he ran them through his unruly blonde locks, sighing heavily. “He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill his sorry ass. I almost did, that night on the highway- when I saw him hit you like that.”

Reaching out, you grabbed onto one of his hands again and squeezed it slowly. “You could go to jail for this, Lix. Chris- he’ll… he’ll press charges. You know he will.” Your voice sounded strained and desperate. And you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your vision at the sheer thought of it all.

Of Felix going and seeking out your ex just so he could beat him to a pulp so much, he landed the fucker in the hospital.

Because no, not your Lee Felix.

Not the boy who was known throughout elementary middle and high school as the sweetest human in the entire world.

Not the boy who couldn’t hurt a fly.

Not your sweet, pretty… Felix.

Shaking his head slowly, Felix’s eyes met yours through the reflection in the mirror. “He won’t press charges, trust me. I made sure to fuck him up enough that he wouldn’t. Chris is too much of a coward to ever show his face around these parts again.” He flashed you an easy grin, squeezing your hand faintly in reassurance.

And you actually believed him.

Because if it had been bad enough to land Chris in the hospital, and leave such nasty wounds and scars across Felix’s entire hands, you were pretty sure your ex would never face either of you again.

“But… why? I don’t understand why you’d do something like that?” You began, getting choked up again. Chest heaving slightly, you leaned into his side, breath hitching in the pit of your throat at just the thought of Felix being taken away from your side because of a stupid fight and breakup. “Why would you do it when you know the risks? I can’t fucking lose you, Felix, I- not again. Please.”

At that, Felix was turning completely. So that he was facing you. And then he was pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you buried your face in his bare chest. His warm skin against your lips lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, but at that moment, you couldn’t see or think about anything past your tears. That were steadily flowing down your face.

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ve done that once, I promised you I wouldn’t do it again.” He said in a soft voice, as he carded a few fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture.

“Why? Why did you do it?” You cried out softly, nestling your face into his naked skin. Your body was seeking out any kind the warmth, from the way that the fright was wrapping around all of your senses in that moment.

For a few beats, everything was silent. The only sound in the entire bedroom was your quiet sniffles. And Felix’s breathing. Then, he spoke in that deep voice of his. “Because I care, angel. A little too much, it would seem. I care way too much to sit idly by and let a man like that walk this earth without having any consequences.”

“Us breaking up was a punishment enough.”

You could sense Felix shaking his head above you, as he held you close to his half-clothed form. “No. He never deserved you, from the very beginning. That’s why I got so angry- on graduation night. Because you couldn’t see what I saw in him… which was absolutely nothing.” As he spoke, you could feel him tensing against you. And only then, did you realize that the tears had stopped. And instead of listening to your sobs, you were listening to what he was telling you. “I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you with him when I knew he was a horrible fucking person. I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing you talk about him on our calls once I went to Korea. I couldn’t stand the thought of any of it. That’s why I cut everything off.”

Moving away from his chest just slightly, you stared up at him and met his gaze. “You could’ve told me all of this, you know. And I would’ve understood.”

Raising a noncommittal eyebrow down at you, he scoffed lowly. “Really, Y/N? Because your actions from the past say something very differently.”

And without even thinking about it, you were raising your hands, brushing a few strands of his loose blonde hair behind his ears. “Yes, really. Because I love you and I value your opinion so fucking much.”

“No, don’t say that.”

Felix’s words came out deathly quiet, making your heart stop beating in the pit of your chest for a few seconds. Frowning in confusion, you pressed your lips together in a displeased line. “What do you-”

“Don’t say you love me, because we both know that if you did- you never would’ve been with him in the first place,” Felix said slowly, in a breathless kind of way. But despite his words, he was already moving slowly. Hands reaching up, his slender fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Eyes watching the way you breathed out in a shuttering kind of way at the movement.

“So tell me that you don’t. Tell me that you don’t love me.” He continued, even as his hand was slipping behind your neck and his other hand was finding its way onto your hip. He yanked you a little closer to his form.

Swallowing down a mixture of a moan and scream, you met his gaze. And there, you found a myriad of emotions. His eyes were hooded and searching, as they wandered across your face, picking up on every one of your emotions. There, you found love and… desire, too.

“I love you, Lee Felix.”

“That’s not what I told you to say. That’s the opposite, actually.” He said in a gravelly voice, the sound of it rumbling out of his chest and cascading down your entire body.

Shrugging just a tiny bit, you offered him a sly kind of smirk. “Guess it’s opposite day then- because I-”

Instead of words, his mouth was the thing that cut you off next.

The kiss was so abrupt and sudden, that your brain had hardly any time to process it. Then, all of a sudden, you were melting into the feeling of it all. Of his lips pressed against yours, fervently seeking you out. You nearly fell into his arms, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was holding onto your waist with one hand, and the other was wrapped in your locks at the nape of your neck.

“F-Felix-” You moaned out softly in the split second that he pulled away to allow you time to breathe. Then his mouth was back on yours with a searing vengeance, as his tongue prodded at the line of your lips.

And just like that, you let him in. His warm tongue slipped between your teeth and soon you were exploring each other’s tastes in a heated, frenzied kind of way. Almost like, without the two of you even realizing it, your mouths had been craving each other from day one.

Felix pulled on your hair a little bit harder after that, tilting your head back just enough as his lips parted from yours. And when you were about to protest from the lack of his mouth, he trailed his head downward, making a path of gentle kisses down the side of your cheek, across the line of your jaw, and towards the column of your neck.

When he stopped just above your breastbone, where the top of your ruffled tank top started, he stared up at you with wide, imploring eyes. “Too much?” He asked in the gentlest of voices you had ever heard come from a man.

But already, you found yourself shaking your head vehemently. “No- never.” So you let him take control. You let him move you two backward until he was sitting down on the edge of the bed and you were cradling his hips with either of your legs, sitting atop his lap.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, I don’t even know what to do with all of the thoughts I have right now…” He whispered, hands coming up to your shoulders and massaging the skin there.

You dipped into his presence, pressing a few feverish kisses against his lips. “It’s okay- I can tell you what to do,” you mumbled in between kisses, tasting him and catching his scent of body wash and salt water. “Take off my top, Lixie.”

And surprisingly, he did what he was told. Soon, he was helping you shed your white tank until you were down to your light purple bralette. Sitting there, on his lap, you watched all the emotions dance across his brilliant face. “You’re so fucking beautiful- I have no words anymore-” He mumbled, eyes roving across your half-exposed chest and catching on the way that your hands stretched behind your back.

Soon, you were unclasping your bralette and throwing it off to the side. You stared back at Felix, your gazes locking. Almost like, he couldn’t bear to move his focus anymore downwards. Like if he did, the moment between you would break and he’d wake up and realize all of it was but a mere dream on the horizon.

“Kiss me, Felix,” you whispered, but the deep, cloying tenderness of your voice suggested to both of you that you weren’t talking about your lips. And just like that, he was leaning forward, beginning to pepper featherlight kisses down the column of your neck and onwards.

Carding your hands through his damp, shaggy blonde hair, you pushed his face a little closer to your skin, guiding his mouth until his lips were hovering over your chest. Then he was looking up at you again, eyes gaping wide open almost like he was asking for permission yet again. If he didn’t get the all-clear from you for the millionth time that night, the entire thing would be ruined.

“Open up, baby,” is all you said in a soft voice. The whispery sound of it floated out into the darkness of the room, wrapping around the two of you just as Felix did what he was told. Like a good boy.

Unhinging his jaw just the tiniest of bits, he easily fit his lips around one of your pebbled nipples. And like magic, like some devilish sex faerie took ahold of his mind, he was sucking on your skin within the next breath. Sucking so good, soon you were throwing your head back in pure ecstasy. Fingers wrapping around his blonde locks a little more, you pushed his face closer to your form.

His teeth grazed your goose-flesh skin, licking every part of you that he could get his mouth on. And when he came up for air, the sound of saliva popping off of your cool tit, Felix was smiling a devious kind of smirk. “Your skin tastes so fucking good…” Then he was eyeing your other nipple, that had been left untouched as of yet.

Peering down at him with a slightly raised brow, you moved across his hips. The single shift in position made him groan out loud in pure agony, a tinge of crimson bursting across his cheeks as you ground down against the hardness between his legs. “Then why the hell did you stop, Lexie?”

And just like before, he was heeding your words. His mouth came around your other pert bud, sucking and licking and kissing. Meanwhile, his hands were busy roaming across your entire body… tweaking your other nipple, grasping onto your hip before skirting up the length of your spine. The entire time, you slowly moved your waist against his, feeling the tent growing just beneath the thin fabric of his black sweatpants.

Each time you danced a little bit closer to where you needed him most, he let out a string of filthy groans against your skin. Your movements prompted him to suck even harder, to drawl out as many heavy sighs as he could from deep inside your chest. His bare chest heaved with breath, as he rarely came up for hair. Muscled pecks and abdomen flexed, constricting every time you edged him a little bit closer to the edge.

When it finally became too much for him, he was pushing away from your wet, pebbled tits. “N-Need to be inside you, right fucking now.” He was practically whining, in that deep voice of him. It was really adorable if you were to be truly honest with yourself. “Please… need to… I need to…”

But the words didn’t make it out of his mouth in time. Instead, you were pressing up into his space, imprinting kiss after heated kiss to his swollen lips. And when you were done, you pulled away just slightly to tuck a lock of messy blonde hair behind his ear. “What do you need right now… baby? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Need to fuck you,” he started, breathing heaving so deeply that his shoulders shuttered with it. Sparkly eyes peering up at you with a wide, deer-in-the-headlights kind of resemblance. “Need to breed you- fuck you raw, for Christ’s sake…”

He said the last of his words with a kind of venom you had never heard from him. Almost like…

“Felix… are you, jealous?”

Surprise dawned across his entire face then, as the crimson of his cheeks only deepened the freckles smattered across his skin. “W-What? No! Why would you even-”

“Lee. Felix. Are you mad that Chris got to fuck me raw?”

“Well now, how could I be when I don’t know if-”

A tiny smirk started to pull your lips upwards, as you said “Oh no, we definitely did. Most of the time, actually.”

Utter shock burst across his face at your confession. And for a few moments, you felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit such an intimate detail about your sex life with your longtime boyfriend. Especially to the best friend you had known since you were a little girl.

Flabbergasted for a few seconds, Felix raised a finger in the air in a snooty kind of way. “First of all, that is incredibly risky. Second-”

“And like you wanting to do it now isn’t incredibly risky and dangerous too?”

Your snarky comeback threw his argument right back into his court. And he glared your way, rolling his glittering eyes dramatically. “Okay, but this is fucking different. I’m not gonna-”

“Cheat on me with my best friend and then slap me across the face when I try to break up with you?”

“God- will you let me finish, woman?!”

You liked riling him up. It was fun and you had always taken great pleasure in it, ever since you were a young child. So you sat back a little bit, pushing away from his hips somewhat and folding your arms across your bare chest. “I mean yes- eventually, I am gonna let you finish tonight. But okay, make your argument.”

Running a frustrated hand through his silky, damp hair, Felix’s eyes searched the room for the words he wanted to say. “I don’t wanna fuck you because I think you’re easy and then I’m gonna be done with you after tonight. I wanna be with you because I fucking love you. I have, since day one. Since we were little kids, I had a raging crush that grew into an uncontrollable fire and then into a monster.” By then, he was staring right back at you again. Gazes locked, it was like he was searching into the depths of your very soul. You could see so many emotions written across his face then… love, anger, passion… “The only reason I wanna- wanna come inside is because I wanna make sure you know you’re mine and that I’m yours.”

For a few beats, everything was completely silent. Save for the heavy breathing on both of your ends.

Then, a sly kind of grin was flashing across your face as your hands hastily made their way down to your hips, ripping off your shorts at record speed. Way faster than your fingers had ever done in the entire time that you had been intimate with Chris.

And before you could even say anything, before any words were even spoken between the two of you after Felix’s passionate tyraid of love, you felt movement underneath you.

Between your legs, you could feel hands moving. Across your thighs, they danced- spreading, opening, caressing. Until they were pressed up to your very centre, drawling a loud moan from you as they played around your clit. In mere seconds, Felix was slipping two digits into you, opening you up gradually.

“Fuck, your pussy is stretching so nicely for me…” He grunted, leaning into you and pressing feverish kisses to your lips. He bit down on your bottom lip just slightly, and each time he hit his fingers up into that gooey spot inside of you, you swore you saw stars. “Gonna be fun to fuck this tight, pretty thing.”

You twirled your hips across his fingers, shivering in pure bliss each time his thumb caressed your enflamed bundle of nerves. “L-Lix… I… need…” But all semblance of forming words fled from your body entirely, as the heat of arousal overtook your entire form.

“You need me, hmm?” Felix mused in a deep voice, the one he knew drove you up the fucking wall in a subtle kind of way. “Okay then.” He said, and soon, his hands were yanking away from your cunt altogether, as he pushed his sweatpants down and off of his hips.

In mere seconds, he had his fingers gripping your bare ass, nails digging into the flesh there as he helped move you into position. Holding your breath after that, feeling it widen across the expanse of your ribcage, you slowly began to sink onto his cock, which was glistening with precum. The tip sunk in with ease, and when you finally sunk to the base, a deep wave of pleasure ran across the length of your spine.

He was a lot bigger than you had originally thought, and you could feel the tip of him reaching into the very depths of you as he slowly helped guide you back up his length.

“Shit- you feel so goddamn amazing, princess…” Felix panted out loud in a thick tone, and with that, he was gripping your hips and helping you sink back down onto his cock with keen precision.

With each movement of your hips, he thrust up into you, nails digging into your ass cheeks while you leaned into him, grasping onto his chiseled pecks with the force of each long drawl you took. Nothing else needed to be said between you, as you focused in on the passion that was both thrumming through your veins.

Every hit of his cock up into your tightness made the blood in your body boil, and each breath that you took through your constricted lungs brought you a little closer to that blissful cliffside. You cracked your eyes open just a tiny bit to watch Felix’s gaze. The way it was serious and pointed towards the point where your bodies met.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin, of your wetness mixing with his girth, almost sent you over the edge countless times. And each time he sheathed himself back inside of you, you could feel his length growing tighter.

“I-I’m really close, Lix- fuck…” You cried out in a broken tone, throwing your head back as you danced ravenously across his lap. His tip reached up so far into you, that you could practically feel it in your tummy.

Felix shuttered in a deep, cloying breath. And when your eyes widened to focus on him again, he was smirking up at you. Pearly white teeth flashing against red lips, he made to kiss you through the wave of pent-up arousal that was flooding your entire system. “Let go for me, my perfect, pretty princess… it’s okay, you can cum around my cock. I don’t mind.” His words made your eyes cross a little bit in bliss.

And just like that, your body was moving on its own accord. Thigh trembling around his hips, a strangled kind of scream ripped free from the deepest parts of your soul. Within seconds, you were crashing down from your high, the orgasm lighting every part of your closed vision. Otherworldly visions and galaxies splashed across your mind, taking you to another place as you rode through your high.

The entire time, Felix soothed you with beautiful words of praise. And when it was finally time for him to cum, you were only pushed further over the edge of your orgasm. The feeling of him shooting himself deep inside of you made your eyes cross and made you bite your lip in pure ecstasy.

“Goddamn- your pussy feels so fucking good pulsing around my cock like that- milking me dry-” Felix was spewing half-nonsense as he rode out his own high, thrusting up into you and fucking the cum back between your walls. You were incredibly glad that you hadn’t used anything for protection because you knew that your first time with Felix wouldn’t have felt as special if there was plastic between the two of you.

When the two of you finally came down from your highs, it was only a matter of time before Felix was pulling out of you. Groaning at the absence of him, he positioned the two of you so that you were both lying down on his bed.

“Was that… too much?” He asked, turning onto his side to peer into your eyes.

Mimicking his posture, you traced a few fingers across his freckled cheeks which were still warm to the touch from arousal. “Baby, no. It was perfect because you’re perfect.”

He giggled like a little schoolboy at that, grabbing ahold of your waist and yanking you close to his form. He brought his face close to yours, whispering in the lightest of voices, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life again. From the moment we first time, I never wanted to be parted from you, Y/N.”

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Felix.” You murmured, just as he leaned in to press fleeting kiss after kiss against your lips. Then you were pulling away from his affection, offering him a smirk. “Now help me clean myself up.”

“Why? You don’t wanna carry my baby?” He was pretending to be offended, furrowing his brow and frowning in a sardonic kind of way.

Punching his bare shoulder playfully, you rolled your eyes in only a slight bit of annoyance. “Not right now, stupid.”

“Okay, but that leaves the future up for interpretation…”

For a few seconds, you let the silence fade between you. And you could feel the tiny smile crack across the corners of your lips as the realization entered Felix’s mind. That quite possibly, one day, when the two of you were much older, you’d want to carry his babies.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he was grasping your hands and pulling you up from the bed. Leading you open to the bathroom with a bright grin flashing across his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

And you let him take the lead.

You let him, knowing in the back of your mind that no matter what- he would always have your back.

No matter how much time you spent apart and how much shit happened between the interim.

He had always been the only person there for you, and we would continue to be for the rest of eternity.

Through thick and thin.

First, as a best friend.

And second, as a partner and the love of your life.

Fin.

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