#asking and i was like WHAT is happening and then i realized. but yeah he seems to be totally on board and enjoying it
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under the mistletoe!
includes : (mouthwashing) anya, curly, daisuke, swansea.
summary : you get caught under the mistletoe!
warnings : gn! reader. mutual pining/early relationship.
ANYA
Has been waiting for you to notice the mistletoe above you both, she doesn't want to initiate the good old tradition but she definitely wants to participate in it.
When Anya glances upwards for the umpteenth time, you finally decide to follow her line of vision, noticing the mistletoe that hung above you both. Glancing down at Anya, you notice the slight flush to her cheeks, and realize she's noticed it the whole time.
"You know," Your voice drops to a whisper as you take a step closer to her, "If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask." Cupping her cheek gently, you lock eyes with hers.
She mumbles something under her breath- something about being oblivious, causing you to chuckle in agreement. You definitely wish you had noticed it early, so that you could've spent more time kissing her. With that in thought, you don't waste another second.
Your lips press against hers, savoring the sweet flavor of cake on her lips. Anya wraps her arms around your neck, deepening the kiss with rare resolve. Pulling away is a struggle, not wanting the kiss to end, but when it does you at least get to revel in the beauty of her dazed expression.
CURLY (pre-crash)
Tries to play it off as a joke in case you don't like the whole tradition, subsequently forcing you to make the first move and leaving him a little embarrassed.
When you both noticed the mistletoe hung above your heads, you had hoped it meant that Curly would finally kiss you. Instead, he awkwardly tries to crack a joke. "So... You come here often?" He winced at how bad that one liner sounded, wishing the ground would swallow him hole- but when you stifle a laugh (because it's cute how hard he's trying), he seems to relax a bit.
"Only when I see a handsome, lone Captain standing here." You reply, enjoying the way he seems to brighten at the answer, him responding in a husky 'is that so?'. Taking a step closer, your hand finds his chest. "You know, if memory serves right, tradition is that those standing under the mistletoe are to kiss, right?"
"Mmhm, big fan of tradition." Curly hums, nodding in agreement. Taking that as your cue, you lean in to kiss the handsome man before you. He sighs blissfully into the kiss, but pulls away all too quickly for both of your sakes.
"Yeah, definitely a big fan of tradition." Curly says, a bit in awe of the kiss, before deciding he's definitely not done kissing you yet.
DAISUKE
Thinks he's being smooth when he suddenly stops in front of the mistletoe with you by his side. He's not, but he gets points for being cute.
"Right this wa-" Daisuke was going to show you something in the other room, but stopped so abruptly you ran straight into his back. Stumbling backwards, you furrow your brows in confusion. Daisuke is now leaning against the doorframe, raising his brows.
"What are you doing?" You just so happen to glance upwards to see mistletoe above the doorway. You look back at Daisuke, "Are you serious?"
"Am I rizzing you up yet?" Its a good, solid debate in your head if you should leave him hanging or actually consider kissing him. Shaking your head at his silly antics, you give him a (teasing) pitiful look. "Is that a no-"
"Daisuke, just kiss me." You sigh, and he definitely doesn't need to be told twice. Excitedly, Daisuke swoops in and kisses you under the mistletoe. His hands a little shaky as they settle on your waist and pull you in closer, deepening the kiss.
SWANSEA
Who put this shit up? Swansea is not having any of it- hm? Oh, you like mistletoe? Well he supposes it isn't soooo bad.
Stood on a step stool, Swansea is taking the mistletoe down when you approach in curiosity. "Awe, don't rip it off Swansea!" You say, he sends you a small glare.
"You the one who put this shit up?" You giving a shrug, acting coy. Perhaps you were the one who put mistletoe up right under the Utility room, maybe you weren't. You definitely were. Either way it has Swansea faltering. "Ugh, as long as you take it down later, I guess..." He grumbles, leaving the mistletoe as he gets off the stool.
You gasp as he steps off the stool, capturing his attention once again. "Swansea! Looks like we're under the mistletoe, you know what that means~" You coo, mostly teasing, but when you see the light blush on his face you decide to double down on it. "Rules are rules, as they say."
"You're somethin' else, ya know that?" He sighs, looking at your excited face- you hide your intentions terribly. With a grunt, Swansea gives you a quick kiss, and when you whine, he snickers. "Hey, rules never specified how long." Damn, he got you this time, but you'll outsmart him next time!
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing#anya x reader#curly x reader#daisuke x reader#swansea x reader#mouthwashing anya x reader#mouthwashing headcanons#mouthwashing imagines#mouthwashing curly x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#mouthwashing swansea x reader#x reader
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You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.
Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --
GAZLENE --
what? Am I wrong?
Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.
Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?
Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.
What happened last week?
...........Dib. You know what happened last week.
I don't, actually -- oh no...
What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?
Fuck I overshot.
What do you mean, you overshot?
Gaz, what year is it?
It's 2001. Why?
Month?
September --
Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.
How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --
BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.
What?
That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.
What the hell, Dib --
:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?
Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."
Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?
[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]
Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.
Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)
Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.
This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.
Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?
All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes
#lmao serious tho#i got a comment this morning that was just KUDOS over and over and a keysmash#and i have been on cloud nine all day#like awww yay you wanna see where this fic is going?#man i hope you know you're in for a wild ride#because i dont know either#lolololol#❤️ love y'all#invader zim#encoder/recorder AU#class clown#work in progress#agent m#signing off
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cranberry christmas
part iii of my series "texas sweet!" texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist
summary: it's your first christmas with the miller family, which brings all sorts of new feelings out of you and joel. he relieves your anxiety in a few giving ways (tis the season!)
tags: 18+, smut, anxious!reader, dilf!joel, joel is kind of a flop (but in a cute way), gentle!joel, found family (a little), the miller family being cute, reader has an anxiety attack, mentions of troubled family life, dorky christmas cheesiness, reader celebrates christmas, heavy on the f!reader for this one, reader has boobs, reader has hair, reader wears lingerie, dryhumping, almost powerbottom!joel (?), begging, nippleplay, hickeys, coming untouched, praise kink a little, realistic people in unrealistic situations, establishing of relationship
part i -> part ii -> part iii
a/n: this honestly got way out of hand, but i LOVE IT!! i hope you all have a lovely holiday season <3
(5.1k, not beta read)
“How long have you been a dad again?”
You’re staring at the pile of gifts that Joel has “wrapped” so far. The striped paper is wrinkled on a few of them like he balled up the paper before wrapping the gift, other ones have glaring bald spots that reveal what they are without having to unwrap them.
Joel huffs, grumbling to himself as he’s hunched on the floor, cutting out another square of paper to wrap a book.
“Long enough to know that if I stay down here too long my back’ll hurt tomorrow,” he responds.
The Christmas tree in his living room has been thoroughly decorated, leaving the lights to reflect from glass ornaments onto his face. Joel looks stressed tonight, but he’s just been stressed all the time lately. The colder months have brought shittier weather, which has him worried about snowfall on sites that couldn’t take it at the moment. Anytime you’ve seen him recently, his skin has still been cold from the outside, his nose slightly red.
He looks at your pile of gifts, which have been neatly wrapped and finished with stick-on bows, and then scrunches his face, quietly mocking your words. You laugh, feigning offense as you tilt your head.
“Oh I’m sorry, I just assumed you would have been better with your hands, Joel,” you retort in return. Instantly his head is back up so he can look at you, a shocked expression on his face.
“You sayin’ I’m no good with my hands?” He asks, a bit incredulous.
Your eyes are rolling before you can help it, smiling as you shake your head.
“No–” you start.
“I can prove that I got perfectly fine hands. Fingers too for that matter,” he dares.
Joel shoves the wrapping paper out of his way as he scoots his way over to you, his knees scrubbing the hardwood floor. He’s smiling stupidly, clearly excited to get out of wrapping gifts.
“Joel!!” You huff, trying to squirm away from him as he gets closer to you. You’ve learned he has a serious personal space problem.
“What, angel? S’not like anybody else is home,” he grins, nosing at your cheek.
And God. Yeah, finally, nobody is fucking home.
You and Joel have been something for the past however many months. Time has flown quickly, with life and love brushing past your skin in a wind of smiles. Work takes over Joel’s life before he realizes it, and it happens a lot. Maybe that would be a problem for most people, but you live right next door. It’s not like there’s space between you, especially since you can knock on his door whenever you want to.
But you’re both adults, and spontaneity requires energy that you both lack.
The current schedule you’ve fallen into is seeing him on Friday evenings, whenever he gets home from work, a small date on Saturday if you have the energy, and family dinner on Sunday. Yes, you’ve now worked up the courage to look his daughters and brother in the eye. After you started showing up more often they began to bond with you more, especially his girls. Ellie and Sarah are both young, both smart, and as different as they are, it just makes for a firecracker-y relationship that’s hard not to interact with.
You’ve fallen into place as Joel’s something, as someone to his family.
The only problem you and Joel have is actually getting alone time. Since you both work so much, and he’s so family oriented, it’s been hell actually trying to get alone time with him. Not even just time to… do stuff. Just having a private moment is tough. Someone is always in his house, and as much as you have your own house, his feels more like home.
You didn’t even set up your tree this year. The living room is bare of holiday cheer, save for the growing pile of presents that you’ve built in the corner near the couch. Finding home in Joel has not helped you find your place in Austin still, the lack of familial familiarity has sucked the love from your walls. The whole house just feels like dead skin that’s ready to flake away anytime you’re there. You want to brush it from its plot of land and go back to the place next door, where warm light and voices hold the roof down and raise it all the same.
So yeah, your house isn’t really where you want to be, ever. Sacrificing sex with Joel isn’t the best, but you want to be around him more than anything. As long as he’s there, you don’t care so much if he’s getting you there. At least not usually.
“Yeah, no one’s home,” you repeat back to him.
The incandescent bulbs that are strung onto the tree are casting light through his hair. Tiny flecks of grey are all you can get a view of right now as he pushes his nose beneath your jaw, pressing kisses to the tender skin that tingles under his lips.
“Mhm,” he grunts, biting at your skin then kissing over it when you wince slightly. “N’they won’t be home for at least an hour.” His hands are skimming over the waistband of your pajama pants, warm fingers dipping to touch the band of your undies.
“Yeah,” you say again. You’re losing words. It always feels like you lose your words, breath, and brain around him, but maybe it’s because you don’t need it. Joel keeps kissing at your neck as he reaches around, tapping your bum so you lift up for him.
The lights in the room flash into pink as your eyes slide shut and your pants are tugged down more. It’s been too long, you need this, he needs this.
Joel doesn’t hesitate. As soon as your pants are down enough, his hand is in your undies, skimming the hair there and then pressing against you. A surprised huff puffs into your neck as he feels how wet you’ve gotten, how quick.
And then keys. And then the front door is swinging open. And then your pants are shoved up and everyone’s home and you aren’t in your mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine.
You’ll find time before Christmas.
—
Today is Shitmas.
“Shitmas. Y’know, like the day in Christmas week where you do a bunch of Christmas-y shit,” Tommy had informed you about a week ago, after you had slowly turned to look at him in the living room.
The Miller family does Shitmas on the 23rd of December, and supposedly it includes, but is not limited to, family pictures in the living room, cookie baking and decorating (lead by Sarah), and sock snowman making.
They do this every year, and you can tell because as soon as you show up on Shitmas, you’re greeted by little sock snowmen. They line the stairs, each one with a year labelled on the belly. The first few are singular snowmen, but somewhere along the way it turns into two, marking when Ellie joined their family. Over the years they’ve obviously improved, but there’s something special about the first few on the stairs. Mismatched eyes, splattered glitter glue, and Joel’s printing on their bellies, instead of Sarah’s, all grace the earliest dated snowmen.
Ellie was the one to let you into the house today, since apparently Joel is helping Sarah bake and his hands are “nasty,” in Ellie’s words.
“Kinda ugly, huh?” Ellie teases as you crouch to look at them on the stairs. Sarah calls out somewhere in the house, over the noise of the electric mixer, and it makes you huff a laugh.
“I think they’re endearing. It’s nice that Joel keeps these,” you reply. She somewhat agrees, an “I guess,” begrudgingly leaving her lips before Joel finally walks up and she skips off back to the kitchen.
Joel’s drying his hands with a dishtowel still as he embraces you, sighing deeply.
“Hey angel, sorry. Fuckin… Raw egg all over my hands,” he mutters as he squeezes you tight. The two of you pull apart for a moment, but not before Joel’s going back in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. As your palms settle against his chest, you can’t help but notice how warm he is, the skin beneath his shirt, hot and giving plushly under your fingers.
“I like the girls’ snowmen,” you tell him fondly, peeking over your shoulder at them. When you look back at him, he’s looking at them, a softness in his eyes.
“Ellie hates doing those, she only does it because Sarah likes to.”
—
Shitmas has been stupidly fun so far. Watching Tommy and Joel try their best to decorate cookies while Sarah makes Great British Bake Off worthy ones, all while Ellie smears smiley faces onto each one in an effort to make her sister proud has raised your spirits infinitely. You decorated a few cookies, but mostly watched in awe as Sarah expertly pressed sprinkles into each of the cookies and piped patterns onto them. It kind of felt like wasting cookies to not let her decorate them, even though she bakes them each year so everyone can participate.
Now, you’re sitting on the couch. The cookies are all sitting on the kitchen counter, abandoned as each family member bustles around the house getting ready for the picture they’ll take in front of the tree.
Surprisingly, Tommy is done getting ready first. Honestly you figured it would have been Joel, but maybe he’s putting some extra effort in today, rather than just running a comb through his hair. Tommy’s appearance at first is only surprising because of how meticulous he can be with his hair. Joel has told you about the times they’ve been late because his hair was “fighting” him some mornings.
“Hair cooperated with me,” he says as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. Sometimes it feels like Tommy can either read your mind, or just says shit to take up space. You respond with a nod and a mild expression of acknowledgement, a little off in your own world.
“You forget your flannel or somethin?” Tommy asks next. You almost nod again, on auto-pilot, but then stop.
“What?” You ask, head turning in his direction. He laughs in disbelief, and for a moment you feel embarrassment start burning at the base of your neck in fear he’s laughing at you. Were you told to bring something and didn’t?
“Hold on,” Tommy says, grunting as he curls up and off the couch a second later.
He leaves you alone in the living room, left to listen to the crackling fireplace channel on TV and the sound of Ellie protesting over Sarah wanting to put hairspray on her.
Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomp around upstairs, leading into Joel’s bedroom. Not dissimilar to the girls downstairs, the rumble of Joel’s voice hits the floor and you roll your eyes, holding a laugh. There aren’t words you can make out, but you’re sure that Joel is mightily unhappy at the random intrusion of his brother.
The more you learn about this family, the more you feel like you’re falling into place, and the more you experience being in it, the farther away your own family feels.
You sit on the couch, still as can be, as you listen to the sound of Tommy rummaging around his older brother’s room, the sound of the hairspray being spritzed while Ellie groans. The sounds are feeling increasingly farther away, even though the girls are downstairs and the boys are only upstairs. Your eyes move to the cookies sitting on the counter, the messy dishes in the sink, and suddenly the stickiness from the icing beneath your nails is too much.
What are you doing here? What is this Hallmark movie family you’ve found yourself in?
The thump of your heart ramps up, pumping blood to your ears and making it rssshhhh in the back of your mind just as you begin to chase your breath. It’s all too nice, and maybe you aren’t entirely undeserving, but this is all so unfamiliar. Your own family isn’t terrible, but in comparison to this, it feels so dull. Christmas was just lights and presents before, not tradition and excitement the way that fucking Shitmas has been so far. You’re one activity into the day and it’s already so much better than what you can remember from back home.
Maybe this is what influenced your decision to stay in Texas for the holidays. Maybe somewhere in you, you knew that this would be better. You’re sitting here, in another family’s home, taking your own family for granted, and for what? Some cookies and some pictures? For the sake of a relationship that isn’t even labelled yet? You deserve this, you deserve to chase your breath and wipe your tears. Selfish girl, if you didn’t feel right in your own family, what right do you have to find a place in theirs?
Nobody in this house asked you to be here but Joel, and really, you just showed up on his doorstep.
Your eyes are shut as you catch your breath, squinched together so tightly that you see sparks of colour behind your eyelids. Tears keep slipping out and you wipe under your eyes politely, trying not to choke on any noises. The bathrooms are occupied, don’t make a fool of yourself in the living room.
Tommy and Joel’s voices increase in volume until they’re in front of you, and you open your eyes to see the pair staring at you. Tommy avoids your eyes as soon as you’re looking back at him, while Joel just seems a little shocked.
“Hey,” Joel says, a festive red flannel in his grip. “Why don’t we head upstairs for a second?”
—
You cry for a long while before you actually manage to tell Joel what’s upset you.
Sat on the edge of his bed, you cry into your palms until your cheeks are red and blotchy, and snot covers the inside of your palms and the bridge of your nose. It’s ugly, nasty, and not what you want to be doing at all. Your family is fine, just boring and emotionally detached, and you’re crying about it to the hardest working single father you know, who has essentially built his life on his own with the help of his brother.
“I just feel so stupid and– and totally out of place. What have I done to earn my place here?” You ask him, eyes puffy and sad as you stare up at him.
Joel looks hurt. He has looked hurt for a long while, but you couldn’t see it when you were buried in your palms. His brows are pinched, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners as he looks at you, almost seeming to pity you. For a moment his eyes flash away, not to anything in particular, but just to gather himself.
“Earn your place? Baby, what?” He questions. You stay quiet, feeling just as confused as he sounds.
His hands clench where they rest on his thighs, then relax as he sighs, head tilting to the side so he can look at you again.
“You don’t… earn your place in our family, darlin, you’re invited.”
How could you be so fucking dense?
Anyone that’s in Joel’s life, apart from Sarah, is somebody he actively invited in. His allowance of Tommy to be a near second father figure to Sarah and Ellie, his adoption of Ellie on its own, the majority of his family has been let in. It could have been just him and Sarah, but he wanted more so he allowed more, and he allows more because he loves what the more in his life is.
Joel takes a deep breath, again, and seems to steel his nerves.
“You are so much more than invited into our family, angel, you’re welcomed wholly. But, if that’s too much right now and it’s bringing you worry, it’s fine for you to just be my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
That is not the topic right now, that is so not the topic right now, but he said the word.
Joel loves the more in his life, and now he’s added you to that “more” officially. A label, a name, a little add-on to your identity. You’re putting “Joel’s Girlfriend” on your imaginary nametag in a million different fonts in your head before you realize he’s still talking.
“You fit right in with us, baby. The girls love you, Tommy loves you, I love you, but you know that one,” he laughs. “It’s up to you if you wanna think of yourself as a part of our family, but know that we already do.”
A smarter response should come out of your mouth here. Joel has just said a lot of touching things that have sunk into the meat of your body, warming you, but a smart response isn’t something you can manage.
“I’m your girlfriend?” You ask.
Joel’s brows furrow. “Yeah?”
He says it the way an eighth grader would say “Duh.”
Your look of “When did this happen?” meets Joel’s look of “Where have you been?” at the same time, and only then does he realize.
—
His apology for completely forgetting to ask you to be his official girlfriend for the last however many months is by cleaning you up really nicely for the photo.
Joel starts by fixing your hair, letting you sit between his knees as he gently pulls it away from your face. His hands run through it so carefully, a tenderness that only an experienced girl-dad like him could provide. When he’s finished, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, adding a mumbled “sorry” in, just to really save his ass.
With anyone else you’d be upset at them for forgetting something so pivotal in a relationship, but with Joel you lend as much patience as he gives you. He’s busy, stupidly so, and with how close and intense the two of you are with one another, it’s not absurd for it to have slipped his mind. In some ways it’s flattering, and you’d like to ask how long he’s been thinking of you as his girlfriend.
You’re just about to when he holds up the flannel in front of you, the one that he and the rest of his family are apparently wearing for the photo.
“You don’t have to. Seriously. We just talked about family and stuff and if you aren’t ready for that, then that’s–” He’s talking fast, but not as fast as you move to grab the flannel from him.
“I’m your girlfriend, of course I have to be in the picture.”
—
The rest of Shitmas was less, well, shit.
Ellie and Sarah did their yearly sock snowmen after the photo was taken and they turned out lovely, or at least Sarah’s did. Ellie purposefully overstuffed hers with rice just to see how big she could make the snowman before he exploded, which resulted in him exploding later that evening when his rotund body toppled down the stairs.
Now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re prepping for tomorrow morning. Your house still isn’t decorated in the slightest, the only festive thing about it being a laundry basket full of gifts that you’ll tote over to Joel’s tomorrow morning.
Your lower back is absolutely killing you from wrapping the last of Joel’s gifts, something he had warned you of, but you had foolishly ignored. You figured it was an old man thing, not a consequence of too many presents. It feels like heaven when your back finally rests against the couch, your head leaning back as you sigh.
Since talking with Joel yesterday about the family stress and what the two of you are, you feel a hell of a lot better. Your lungs almost feel like they’re more open than before.
Just as you’re relaxing, eyes sliding shut in stressless bliss, someones at the door.
You grunt as you peel yourself off the couch, trudging to the door and opening it. It’s strange that anyone is at your door, especially since Joel is out with Tommy and the girls going Christmas light spotting.
Or at least he’s supposed to be.
Joel stands at your door in a loose shirt and grey sweatpants, looking sheepish.
“Do you want to come over for a bit?”
—
Alone. Finally, alone.
You’re sat halfway on Joel’s lap, sucking a mark into his neck as he leans back, cursing softly.
“Fuuuckin’ god, you know I missed you,” he groans. You nod into his skin, teething at the skin softly before pulling back to lick at the reddened spot.
Your hands grip up his sides, feeling the solid width of his body, the plushness of his tummy when your hands sink into the right spot, and you want to whimper. He’s so stupidly big, and you’re so grateful he took his shirt off almost as soon as you both started making out.
Under the lights of the tree, he already looks fucked out. Joel is almost completely limp against the back of the couch, head leaned back to expose his thick throat, bitten down and bruised with marks he might regret in a few hours. His eyes are halfway shut, but dark as ever even in the warm glow of the room which also illuminates the contours that form along his tanned skin.
He feels your eyes on him, his own opening in an attempt to meet yours, but it only brings attention to his face. Pink lips sit pretty on his face, slightly parted and puffy from kissing you dizzy earlier. Again, his eyes squeeze shut as you drag your nails up across his chest, only to fly open.
“Wait– Wait I have something,” Joel sputters. He slides you off his lap, scrambling to the Christmas tree with boyish urgency.
Joel returns with a red present, one that he actually wrapped fairly neatly.
It’d be sweet if you weren’t literally two seconds from tearing his grey sweats off his body and riding him into next year before he had shoved you off.
“It’s not Christmas,” you point out, but he shakes his head and shoves the gift into your hands.
Begrudgingly, you unwrap the gift and lift the lid off the box beneath the paper. Laying flat in the bottom of the thin box, cushioned by white tissue paper, is a red, babydoll, nightie. A blush lashes across your cheeks as you lift it out of the box, discovering that the top of it has no bra cups, or really anything to support your tits at all. Red ribbon frames the bust of the nightie limply in a triangular shape, a fluttery mesh making up for the remainder of the piece. It looks and feels expensive, and on top of that it’s totally sexy, even more so since Joel is the one that bought it for you.
Joel had gone out and picked this just for you, he had probably thought about you wearing this every night for the past week. The idea of it is making you increasingly more aroused, your eyes flicking to his, then down to the bulge in his pants.
“If it’s too much then I’ll return it but,” Joel’s chest is heaving with excitement, biting his lip as he looks at the nightie, “but I kind of want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend before Christmas.”
The two of you are upstairs quickly, with Joel settling in bed and you changing in the bathroom.
You look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror once you’ve put the ensemble on, if you can call it that. The underwear that came with the nightie are barely a scrap of fabric. Normally you’d feel really uncomfortable in something like this, hyperfocusing on small things, like how the pouch of your belly looks, or how your tits don’t look nearly as full as you want them to, but not right now.
Joel Miller just gave you, his official girlfriend, lingerie for Christmas. Because he wants to fuck you in it.
Shamelessly, you open the door into Joel’s bedroom, basically bouncing onto the bed.
“It’s so nice,” you tell him right away, wanting to show your gratitude. He’s down to his boxers as he lays beside you, eyes scanning up and down your body as you sit in his bed, almost as sexy as you are naked.
Joel is still like that for almost a minute, making your brain run haywire. Tonight, he’s left the bedside light on. It’s probably so he can see you, but it’s always special when he lets you see him while you both get intimate. He doesn’t touch you at all, just scoots up the bed so he’s sitting upright and unblinking, until finally:
“I want you to use me,” Joel blurts out.
It’s more surprising than the gift. Your voice is a tiny whine in the back of your throat, your mouth forming the word “what,” but before you can finish, his hands are on your hips, lifting you onto his thigh.
“There, I want you to use me there,” he near-demands.
You’re speechless. Joel is vocal in bed for sure, always talking a lot and never really quiet, but he hasn’t been so… commanding before. He’ll ask for things occasionally, a certain position or act, but not like this. Your hips are still as he pushes you down onto his thigh, the hair on it smushing into the softness of your skin.
“C’mon, angel, I can feel you. Fuck my thigh, use me, I want it.” He encourages.
Joel’s hands grab onto you tighter now, starting to make you move your hips until you do it on your own. It feels like you’re making a dumb face, eyes wide and brows pinched together, but you can’t help but feel surprised.
This is Joel, your Joel, who was hesitant to have sex with the lights on, or even let you look at his dick in general, and now he’s making you hump his thigh? It’s completely new to you, but you aren’t mad.
Once you’ve picked up your own pace, and stabilized yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he reaches up. Joel keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes advantage of how your tits are on full display in the nightie, plucking and rolling your nipples in his fingers all while talking you through what’s going on.
“I know, I know you needed this,” he nods at you, “I needed it too, baby. Missed you like this.”
It feels awfully good grinding against his thigh, and something about this newfound side of Joel with the added fact that you guys haven’t had a moment alone in probably a month, is making this so much more explosive. You roll your hips just right and gasp as one side of the undies slips into the slit of your cunt, the less soft edge of the elastic brushing your clit. A pathetic noise is ripped from you as your hips stutter, body shocked from the sudden direct stimulation.
“No,” Joel says right away. His hand reaches around and cups the bottom of your ass, letting his fingers sink into the crease between your butt and thigh as he drags you forward again.
“Want your messy pussy all over me, please angel I need it so bad,” he says, guiding your movements as you start to go limp, head falling back. You barely register the feeling of his hand on your waist, trying to balance you as he fucks your wet cunt onto his leg.
You let out a tiny noise as the elastic of the undies bites into your clit again and for whatever reason it makes Joel groan too.
“S’exactly what I wanted, angel. Wanted my pretty girlfriend to come all over me an’ have her tits in my face.”
Whatever the hell has gotten into him you hope it gets into him again. He keeps rubbing you into his leg until you’re begging for more stimulation, your limp arms reaching to grab at his hand and push it up to your breasts again.
“M-my nipples,” you beg softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation on your clit. He doesn’t hesitate, half smiling as he starts playing with your nipples again.
“Like this? Is this gonna make my pretty baby come?” He teases as he rolls your nipples repeatedly between his fingers.
All of it is too much, but it’s exactly what you wanted at the same time. Your orgasm completely fucks you out as you keep your eyes on his, mouth hanging open dumbly as he keeps one hand playing with your nipple and the other reaching down to cup your ass and grind your cunt harder on his thigh.
“Good girl, fuckin’ God,” Joel says, staring down as your ruined undies mash into his skin. You can’t tell if you’re coming down or if this orgasm is just super long for no reason, but if it was ending, it’s extended the moment Joel’s thigh clenches up.
You look down as you whimper, wondering why he’s chosen midway through your orgasm to fuck you up again, but then realize that he didn’t choose.
A fat, pearly, translucent bead, sprouts from where the head of his cock lays beneath his black briefs. You can see it grow bigger in the light, listening as Joel groans and curses, his lower half thrashing beneath you. His chest is heaving and the hand on your ass is digging deep.
“Jesus– God, baby, what you do to me,” he grits through his teeth as his back finally hits the headboard again.
Frankly, you’re speechless. You didn’t realize that would happen, or really that it could happen. You weren’t even touching him and he came, he was only watching you. It isn’t like he shot a huge load of come, but still, something came out.
Joel seems to be coming to the same conclusion as he breathily laughs, looking down at the mess before tugging you down onto him anyway, burying his nose in your hair.
“Good gift,” he mumbles, maybe to you, maybe to himself. “Definitely buyin’ you another one next year.” [ <3 ]
----
please leave comments, rbs/tags, or drop into my askbox ! i love to chat and listen <3 tags (people who i think will like this?? maybe??) @bambisweethearts , @pascalssbabyy , @ajps-posts , @starcaviar , @hisvision , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @joeloverture , @mochamadeleines , @taeslarityy , @theweedisasterxoxo , @pawnshopb1ues , @hellishjoel , @slutty-express , @kyloispunk , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @stefanibear003 , @pedrostories [i plan on making an updates blog or something soon, apologies!]
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader smut#ellie fic rec box#tlou#joel miller: texas sweet#texas sweet#pedrostories
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hii I wanted to send a request for the more than a married couple event😋 I wanted to request rin and the emojis 🫐 and 🧁
Hi!!
A Rin Itoshi Blueberry Cupcake
જ⁀♡⊹。° but my luck couldn't get any worse
♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event
♡ content — rin itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, rin still plays soccer, people view rin as 'cold' and 'cruel', one bed trope, kinda forced proximity(?), made it where rin doesn't mean to be cold he just doesn't know how to interact with others, set in high school (third year/senior year), mention of god one or twice, rin is a DIVA (he doesn't wanna sleep on the couch)
♡ synopsis — you could live with rin itoshi as long as the two of you just stayed out of each others space. that was the easy part...until his bed decided to break.
The marriage simulation announcement hit the school like a tidal wave. Some students were giddy with anticipation, while others, like you, wanted to melt into the floor. Living with someone and pretending to be married for an entire month? The idea alone made your stomach churn.
But nothing prepared you for what happened next.
Your name. Rin Itoshi’s name. Side by side on the pairing list.
The moment you saw it, the air seemed to shift. Whispers darted through the room like wildfire, and everyone’s eyes locked on you. You looked over at Rin, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his piercing teal eyes glanced briefly in your direction before looking away again.
"Good luck," someone muttered, half-pitying, half-jealous.
With the reputation Rin Itoshi held, you thought you may need more than luck to survive the next month.
The silence in the simulation apartment was deafening when you and Rin first arrived. Like the other couples, you were handed a list of tasks and expectations, ranging from grocery shopping to date nights to budgeting your "shared" finances. Unlike most of the other pairs, however, Rin made no effort to hide his disinterest.
He surveyed the apartment with a sharp gaze before retreating to his room with barely a word. You were left standing in the living room, clutching the folder of instructions and wondering how you’d survive the next month.
It didn’t help that Rin had a reputation. Brooding, blunt, and fiercely competitive—those were the words most people used to describe him. But as the days went on, you realized there was more to him than that.
Rin wasn’t completely unbearable. In fact, he was startlingly efficient when it came to the tasks. Cooking, cleaning, and even budgeting—he handled it all with precision, as if he were strategizing for a soccer match. But the atmosphere between you remained tense, like walking on eggshells.
Until the incident with the bed.
It happened a week into the simulation. You were reading through the task list when Rin walked out of his room, an unusually irritated look on his face.
“There’s a problem,” he said flatly.
“What kind of problem?” you asked warily, putting the list down.
He gestured toward the open door of his room. “The bed frame broke.”
You blinked. “Wait—what?”
“The bed frame,” he repeated, his tone clipped. “It’s broken. Maintenance won’t fix it until next week.”
“Oh.” You hesitated. “I guess you’ll have to… sleep on the couch?”
Rin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “The couch is too small.”
“Well, then what—” You stopped mid-sentence as the realization hit you. “No. Absolutely not.”
“It’s just a bed,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t care.”
“Yeah, but—” You faltered, heat rushing to your cheeks. Sharing a bed with Rin Itoshi? That sounded like the setup to a bad rom-com, not something you’d willingly agree to. But his expression left little room for argument.
“Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “But stay on your side.”
That night, you lay stiffly on one side of the bed, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. Rin was equally silent beside you, his back turned as if to create as much distance as possible. The bed wasn’t small, but it felt like it, the awareness of his presence making every breath feel amplified.
“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath.
“What is?” Rin’s voice cut through the darkness.
“This. All of this,” you said, gesturing vaguely even though he couldn’t see. “The simulation, the tasks, the… shared bed situation.”
He didn’t respond right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected. “It’s not like I asked for this either.”
“I know,” you sighed. “But it’s just so… awkward.”
Rin shifted slightly, and you felt the mattress dip beneath his weight. “Then stop overthinking it.”
You turned your head to look at him, surprised by his candidness. His profile was outlined faintly by the moonlight streaming through the window, and for a moment, you saw a different side of him—less guarded, more human.
“Easier said than done,” you murmured, rolling onto your back.
Rin didn’t reply, but his presence felt a little less suffocating after that.
Oh and, also, the matienence people never came to fix his bedframe. You were sure this was some sort of malicious prank on you. As if god himself had been watching you like this was a comedy only he found funny.
One morning, about halfway through the week, you woke to the warmth of something solid and steady pressed against you. For a moment, you didn’t move, still caught in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness. It wasn’t until you shifted slightly that you realized Rin’s arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling against your back.
Your eyes flew open. How had this even happened?
Slowly, you turned your head to glance back at him, your heart racing. Rin was still asleep, his expression unusually peaceful. The usual tension in his features was gone, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite describe.
You thought about moving, but the warmth of his arm, the weight of his presence—it wasn’t… uncomfortable. And judging by how relaxed he seemed, he didn’t seem to mind either.
So you stayed. Just for a little while longer.
When Rin finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open, you braced yourself for the inevitable awkwardness. But to your surprise, he didn’t pull away immediately. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was thick, but not unbearable.
Then, he spoke. “...How did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Rin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally moved, his arm sliding away as he sat up. “It’s… whatever,” he muttered, his tone strangely subdued. “Don’t overthink it.”
You sat up too, your heart still pounding. “I wasn’t—”
“Good.” He got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, his movements uncharacteristically hesitant. Just before disappearing inside, he paused. “...Sorry, by the way.”
You blinked. “For what?”
“For that,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the bed. And then he was gone.
You stared after him, your thoughts swirling. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was something.
The following days brought small but surprising changes. Rin, while still stoic, seemed to make more of an effort to engage with you. It wasn’t much—an extra question here, a quiet comment there—but it was enough to shift the dynamic between you.
And then there were the moments when the “fake couple” act forced you closer than you were comfortable admitting. Holding hands in public, sitting closer during classes, and—most unnerving of all—the lingering touches that came with the territory.
“It’s for the grade,” Rin said one afternoon, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as you walked into a mock “family dinner” event.
“Sure,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up at his touch.
The bed situation, meanwhile, remained an unspoken tension between you. Every night, you’d lie on opposite sides, trying your best to ignore the proximity. But as the days went on, the awkwardness began to fade.
One night, after an exhausting day of tasks, you both collapsed onto the bed without much ceremony. You didn’t even realize how close you’d ended up until you felt Rin’s arm brush against yours.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, moving to create space.
“Don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s fine.”
You glanced at him, surprised. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but there was something oddly comforting about his presence. Against your better judgment, you allowed yourself to relax.
By the final week of the simulation, the line between “fake” and “real” had become increasingly blurred. Rin wasn’t just tolerable—he was… comforting. Reliable. And, though you hated to admit it, you found yourself looking forward to his company.
The realization hit you like a freight train one evening as you sat together on the couch, going over the final budget task. He looked up from the spreadsheet, his teal eyes meeting yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat.
“You’re staring,” he said bluntly.
You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “No, I’m not.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he returned to the spreadsheet, leaving you to grapple with your own feelings.
The final task—a formal dinner—was both a relief and a heartbreak. As you stood side by side, dressed to the nines and presenting your “marriage” portfolio to the grading panel, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. The simulation was almost over.
When it ended, the apartment felt strangely empty. You packed your things in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.
“Hey,” Rin said suddenly, breaking the quiet.
You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “Yeah?”
He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I don’t want this to be over.”
You stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What?”
“This,” he said, his voice firmer now. “I don’t want it to go back to the way it was.”
A lump formed in your throat as his words sank in. “Rin…”
Before you could say anything else, he stepped closer, his teal eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just… think about it.”
As if you needed time to think about being with the Rin Itoshi.
ugh i love rin so much
i hope you liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
#★ · airybcbyy#airy posts#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#rin bllk#rin itoshi bluelock#blue lock x reader#rin x reader
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𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
read part one here!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 6.8k words
summary: in which spending the night with steve only makes things more complicated
warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a lot of angst
author’s note: did this for the like ten ppl that asked for it<333 i listened to a lot (A LOT) of i, carrion (icarian) by hozier while writing this so that pretty much explains the super angsty vibes we have throughout most of this lol (angst with a happy ending though so no need to hate me! 🫶🏾)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
The time couldn’t have been later than six o’clock.
For the most part, it was still dark outside, but you could see the beginning bits of the sun rising through Steve’s thin curtains.
And it was then that you realized that you were still in Steve’s bed when you definitely shouldn’t have been. A fresh wave of guilt began to settle in your stomach as you shifted around to face him. He was still asleep, lips slightly parted and hair a mess.
You needed to leave— you actually should’ve left hours ago, but you’d fallen asleep way too easily in his bed; something that you’d actually never done before. And even now you still couldn’t find it in you to move, so you instead kept looking at him and pushed away the guilt that quietly gnawed at your stomach and told you that you should be running away right now.
“You’re staring,” Steve mumbled after a few moments, eyes still shut and the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face.
You quickly shook your head even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Not true.”
His eyes opened and you immediately closed yours, knowing that he caught you but you still pretended as if you were innocent.
You felt him poke your side barely a second later and you laughed despite yourself. Your eyes opened and you didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze, but then seeing the small happy smile on his face reminded you of why you shouldn’t have been in his bed right then.
You shifted so that your head was back against the pillow and you stared up at his ceiling, focusing on a random spot. “So, um, are you feeling okay after last night?”
You decided against specifying exactly what happened last night to save you from pointing out the elephant in the room— him being drunk and showing up to your house and a conversation that was honest but also not at all somehow leading here.
“Yeah, just a headache, but not really.”
You promptly decided to use that as an excuse to get out of his bed. “I’ll go grab something for you. Is the aspirin still in the same spot in your bathroom?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to do that.”
You shook your head as you pulled the blanket off and got up. “No, it’s fine.”
You stepped through the door that connected to his bathroom. You avoided looking at yourself in the mirror, for reasons that you couldn’t fully decipher, and simply rummaged through the drawer underneath his sink for a quick second.
Steve was still in the same position in his bed when you returned to his room, except now he was looking at you with a confused look in his eyes.
He didn’t say anything or call you out on your current antics though as you tossed over the bottle of aspirin to him, and then you realized something.
“Oh, you need water too. I’ll be right back.”
“You don’t—”
You waved him off before he could finish his statement and slipped out of his room, not giving him a chance to say anything else.
It didn’t take long, you knew his house fairly well, and doing the mundane task of finding a glass and filling it with some water was enough to help clear your mind and make you think about everything logically. You realized just how much of a mistake last night was, but the only good thing was that this would be easy to recover from. You two could still go your separate ways and let your different lives completely go back to how they were before you two started sneaking around with each other.
When you got back to Steve’s room, he was sitting up and leaning back against his headboard. He pushed a hand through his hair, which actually did very little to tame its messiness.
“Here you go,” You said as you handed over the glass.
He smiled at you. “Thanks.”
You simply nodded in response at first and then you were speaking. “Yeah, no problem.”
You lingered awkwardly by his bed because you didn’t want to get back in, but you felt as if there was a lot more you should say before you left. “Hey, um, can we agree to actually not do this anymore? I still stand by everything I said in the bathroom yesterday.”
His confused look returned. “We didn’t do anything last night.”
“Yeah, and I think that’s somehow worse,” You told him as you turned away because it became too hard to hold his gaze right then. You grabbed your hoodie off the back of his door and slipped it on. “Let’s just let things go back to normal, okay? You with Nancy and me with Jamie.”
It didn’t necessarily feel right saying the words, but they felt needed. You had to say them. You had to pretend that everything was fine, or that it at least had the potential to be that way.
“I broke up with Nancy last night.”
For a second, all you could do was simply look at him as the words processed in your brain because at first you were convinced that you heard him wrong. But once they did process, you were immediately blurting out, “What? When?”
“Before I got drunk and saw you,” He answered, voice way too soft to match this huge news that he was dropping on you.
You shook your head and sighed as you realized that everything wasn’t going to easily go back to normal and be fine like you wanted it to be. “God, Steve, I really wish you would’ve told me that last night.”
“Would it have changed anything? Is it changing anything now?”
“I wouldn’t have let myself come here,” You answered immediately. “If you had told me this when you were standing on my front lawn, I would’ve told you to go and try to get back with her.”
There was a lot more that you could’ve said— that you would’ve seen the conversation you two had last night right here in his bedroom entirely different if you’d known, and you wouldn’t have let yourself fall asleep in his arms if you knew that there wasn’t any hope for things to go back to normal because he no longer had a “normal” to go back to. And you wouldn’t let yourself be here with him in this moment either.
“Is it changing anything now?” Steve asked again when he noticed that you hadn’t answered that question.
“No... No, it’s not,” You said after the briefest moment of hesitation and then turned away from him again. “I’m gonna go. You should try to fix things with her.”
“Why do you want me to be with her so bad?” You could hear him ask as you closed his bedroom door behind you.
Because then I’d feel a little less terrible about all of this. You wanted to practically scream that at him. You wanted him to understand that if things could just go back to how they were then you’d feel okay about how shitty of a person you’d been for the past month and a half. At least, that was the hope.
However, you didn’t tell him any of that.
“It’s just, it’s the right thing to do, Steve,” You responded loud enough for him to hear you through the shut door.
You headed down the stairs, not listening to see if Steve said anything else, and you were in the middle of putting on your shoes when you heard his door open again. You tied your sneakers quickly and terribly because you hoped that you’d be able to slip out before Steve made it down the stairs.
Perhaps you two needed to have a better conversation that would actually come to some sort of proper conclusion, but you couldn’t do that right then. And then you quickly figured that if you kept pushing him away, maybe he’d get the hint and push you away too, or simply let go.
You were only able to pull open the front door before you abruptly stopped your fast movements.
Because Nancy was standing in front of you, finger seconds away from ringing the doorbell. Her eyes met yours and you suddenly wished for the ground to swallow you whole.
She looked like a girl that had just been broken up with, eyes puffy and red like she’d been crying all night, and you knew that was entirely your fault. An immediate “I’m so sorry” was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say that, not right then. She had the saddest look on her face that was quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when she saw you standing where you were.
“Oh, oh, hey. I was, um… I was just leaving,” You said to her, trying to sound as normal as possible but this was perhaps the most not normal situation ever.
Her eyes immediately narrowed at you. “Oh my god, I knew it.”
You wondered what she meant. Did she mean that she knew that Steve was cheating, or she knew that he was cheating with you?
You obviously didn’t ask her to clarify, though. Instead, you slipped past her and started walking away. The last thing you heard was Steve saying, “Nance, what are you doing here?” and her responding with some angry words that you felt as if you shouldn’t have heard.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
After the moment you and Steve had on New Year’s— an abrupt kiss on a swing set that led to a lot more kissing in his car— a sort of routine quickly formed. It became a cycle of ending up in his car or your car or his house, and it was exactly three weeks after New Year’s when he finally saw the inside of yours.
It was a rare one-off situation where your parents were gone for the weekend and you knew that you weren’t supposed to have anyone over; not even Jamie, even though they’d known him for practically forever.
You had never had the urge to break the rule before and Jamie wanted to keep a good relationship with your parents and was also too nice to suggest breaking it either, so you initially thought that your nights would be quiet.
Except you now had Steve in your life. And he didn’t mind breaking the rule of your parents who he hadn’t even met, so he came over to your house around ten o’clock.
You were immediately trying to pull him in for a kiss when you closed the front door behind him, but he pulled back with a teasing smile.
“Can I at least get a tour before you try to seduce me?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him but still nodded at his request. “Of course, I’m so sorry, where are my manners?”
You grabbed his hand before you could think too much about it, and quickly led him through your house and pointed out everything. “Kitchen, small dining room, living room, guest room and bathroom down the hall. And that’s pretty much it for down here. Nothing as extravagant as your house.”
“I like it.”
“Don’t get too attached because this is the only time that this will happen here.”
You didn’t outwardly say the exact reason why that was probably the case— it would never make sense for him to come over any other time; it would either be too risky with your parents right down the hall or during a time when Jamie was over. But, Steve understood all of what was left unspoken.
“Got it,” He said and then he smiled at you. “Can I see upstairs?”
You nodded, leading the way once again. “My parents' room is down that way, and I’m right here.”
The door was already open so you let him walk in first. There wasn’t too much you found embarrassing about your bedroom, not the full shelf of books or the few posters that hung on the wall above your desk. The only thing that made your cheeks warm in embarrassment was the wallpaper on your walls that you had since you were a kid and had hoped to change sooner rather than later, but you had just never gotten around to it.
Steve looked at you after a moment. “Cute room.”
“One day those pink unicorns will no longer be on the wall.”
“I like them. They add character.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as you laughed at his words. “Shut up.”
The teasing smirk on his face didn’t manage to annoy you as he stepped closer to you and the distance between you two became nonexistent. He leaned in and kissed you then because that was what was supposed to happen and it probably should’ve happened sooner; what you two were doing wasn’t meant to be anything more or less than physical.
Your freshly made bed became a mess in a matter of moments and clothes were quickly scattered on the floor; his jeans and t-shirt gone and your own tank top and shorts tossed somewhere to the side too.
It was fairly early for a Friday night, and you kind of wondered how Steve could even be here right now, but neither of you ever asked where each other’s person was. It was just quietly understood that when you two were together it meant that some excuse had been made or some lie had been told so that this could happen.
A part of you knew that you’d eventually feel bad about all of this, but it had only been three weeks and you were able to forget about how bad you should’ve been feeling when you and Steve were together like this; not an ounce of space between your bodies and limbs tangled beneath bedsheets. Weirdly enough, it just felt too right even though it was objectively wrong.
Soft kisses trailed along your neck and collarbone and then proceeded to move lower and lower. All you could do was sigh in contentment and your eyes slipped shut as you let Steve turn your mind to mush for the time being.
“You’ve read all of these?” Steve asked you later; when you were heading back into your bedroom after using the bathroom and you saw him standing next to your bookshelf.
He was shirtless with only his jeans hanging low on his hips, which made sense since you were wearing his t-shirt right then; it had been the closest thing to you afterward. Now, though, you pulled it off and tossed it over to him and then went to grab your own shirt.
“Yeah,” You simply answered his question as you searched around your room for your underwear and slipped it on once you spotted it partially under your bed.
Steve pulled one of the books off of the shelf, you couldn’t see what the title said even as you moved a little closer to him. “This is the one that we had to read for that English project last year.”
You nodded. “Oh, yeah, I liked it a lot, actually.”
“I barely remember anything that happened in it.”
“That’s not surprising and it’s probably the reason why we got a B+ on that project.”
Steve placed the book on the shelf and then turned around to face you. “Hey, a B+ is great.”
“Yeah, for you, but for a person that actually really likes English, not so much,” You told him and then smiled to show that, for the most part, you were joking.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry for holding you back on that project.”
“Apology accepted,” You said. “I also really don’t even need an apology because I’ve had much worse partners than you on things before.”
“Okay, in that case, I feel honored that I haven’t been the worst person you’ve ever had to work with.”
You laughed a little. “And I hope I was the best person you’ve ever had to work with.”
Steve nodded. “Of course, you definitely were.”
You were pretty sure he was joking— even though he didn’t entirely sound like it— so you continued playing along. “I feel honored.”
He stepped closer to you and for a second you thought that he was going to kiss you again, and although that never happened after, you didn’t think that you would’ve reminded him of that or pushed him away. He didn’t kiss you, though; he stopped before he got that close to you and started heading toward your open bedroom door instead.
“I should probably go,” He said, and you nodded in agreement.
He could’ve easily stayed the night if either of you wanted that to happen. But, he didn’t ask and you didn’t offer. It would’ve been wrong to, you both could silently agree on that.
You were kind of starting to become okay with things becoming more and more wrong, though.
This was meant to be mindless and solely physical, but it was becoming a sort of routine, second nature in a way, to talk about random nonsense or joke around with each other.
However, staying the night felt like a line you two shouldn’t cross; it felt different than just talking for a while after. It felt a thousand times more intimate and serious and like it went several steps past just having sex or being two people who talked about way too much with each other sometimes.
“I’ll see you later,” Steve said before he opened your front door.
“Yeah,” You nodded. “Goodnight.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Barely a month later, and the line had been crossed.
The unspoken rule was broken and there wasn’t even any point to spiral out about it because that somehow wasn’t the worst thing that happened.
Everything was ruined, or it at least soon would be because you couldn’t imagine Nancy sitting on this information and not telling anyone. She was rightfully mad and maybe you deserved whatever would happen once all of this spread around the school.
Your walk home from Steve’s house was quick and the sun was completely up by the time you made it through your front door, but it was still early enough that your parents were still asleep and wouldn’t know that you’d been gone for the entire night.
A part of you wanted to simply just go to sleep when you stepped back into your bedroom, sleep through the entire day, and just forget about everything. But then there was the other part of you that couldn’t not think about everything; the inevitable explosion that was coming sooner rather than later, and it didn’t even feel entirely dramatic to view it that way.
Ultimately, you decided to take a shower because it felt like the only thing that would help you feel a little better. It ended up being the longest shower you’d had in a while and it actually didn’t do much to make you feel any differently. There was still the guilt that had made a home in your stomach when you woke up and it was now coupled with a lot of dread.
You left for school at the time you were supposed to leave, saying a quick goodbye to your parents before stepping out of the door, but you turned left instead of right at the end of your block and ended up at a diner. You stayed there for probably way too long, sipping coffee instead of anything else because you couldn’t stomach the thought of having actual food right then.
You thought about how you could fix things, and if there was even any hope to fix anything, and also what exactly was there to fix. You didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but you were certain that you did, and what could you even say to him now that would magically “fix” what you’d done?
That you loved him and still wanted to be with him? That everything that happened with Steve was a stupid mistake and you regretted it entirely?
You had lied a lot over the past month and a half and you didn’t want to just continue piling onto it. But, then the thought of being a thousand percent honest felt way too scary.
And when thinking about how fucked your life was became too much, you took the newspaper that a random older man offered you and sipped more coffee, and reread the same articles over and over again.
You eventually showed up to school halfway through lunch. Missing the entire day felt a bit too cowardly and you also remembered that you had to take a Chemistry quiz at the end of the day. However, you didn’t immediately step out of your car once you were parked in the school parking lot. Instead, you leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a sigh, eyes slipping shut in the process as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever you'd have to face inside those walls.
An abrupt quick knock against your window scared you and made you open your eyes. It was Jamie standing at your passenger side window and you could feel your heart speed up in your chest, and it wasn’t because you’d just been startled by him.
But, he didn’t look mad at you, just confused, and that felt like a good sign; maybe that meant that the “inevitable” actually hadn’t happened yet.
You gave him a small wave and then he opened the door and proceeded to get in your car.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I wasn’t really feeling good this morning, but then I remembered my Chem quiz last period and I don’t wanna miss that.”
He nodded. “Oh, okay.”
He wasn’t looking at you— you could tell that he was purposely avoiding eye contact with you, actually— and it was that that made you realize that he knew.
“I’m so sorry,” You blurted out.
“Is it true?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Finally, his eyes met yours and the hurt look on his face made you want to break his gaze, but it would’ve been too shitty to look away because you suddenly felt bad. “I don’t get it... Steve Harrington? Really? Do you wanna be with him now?”
For a second, you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t; no words would form on your lips. And it was then that you realized that you weren’t ready to be honest with this guy sitting next to you who you’d known since you were twelve and considered your best friend since then too. It shouldn’t have felt so fucking hard, but it did, and the worst part of it was that you knew that you had to tell him the truth anyway.
“Honestly, Steve has nothing to do with how I feel about us and you,” You ultimately said, realizing that you weren’t completely answering Jamie’s question, but he didn’t call you out on it. “I’d been feeling… off about things for a while, but I wanted to pretend like I wasn’t. I wanted to pretend that everything was fine and normal between you and me, so I pushed those “off” feelings away and buried them down, and acted as if they didn’t exist. I lied a lot to myself because I was scared that I’d mess everything up. And then I saw Steve on New Year’s and we did something stupid and shitty that didn’t feel that way at the time, and that’s when I started lying to you. And all of the lying and what me and him were doing never felt completely terrible and wrong until yesterday. But, by the time I actually wanted to do the right thing and try to be a good person, it was too late. And maybe that’s actually a good thing because I would’ve just kept lying to myself and to you too if things hadn’t blown up this way.”
You were rambling and probably not making any sense right then. The thought of ruining absolutely everything still weighed so heavily on you, even though the damage was already pretty much done. There was no recovering from this and there was no “fixing” things, you realized now. However, you were still explaining and explaining and hoping that maybe things could somehow be okay.
A confused look crossed Jamie’s face. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you were feeling about us before?”
“Because I’m a coward and I wanted to avoid all of this,” You admitted. “And also because it was just so confusing. I love you, you’re my best friend, so it didn’t make sense to me why I was no longer in love with you. And the thought of having any sort of conversation about this scared the shit out of me because I don’t wanna lose you completely.”
Things became quiet for a second and Jamie looked away from you, staring straight ahead at the parking lot instead.
After a moment, he started speaking again. “Remember back in seventh grade, and I’m pretty sure most of eighth grade too, you used to make me turn around or close my eyes whenever you wanted to tell me some sort of secret?”
The abrupt subject change surprised you, but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, I remember that.”
You weren’t ever entirely sure why you would do that so much. Jamie was the first person you’d ever gotten super close to and you felt like you could tell any and all of your secrets to him, but the act of doing so scared you, so you’d make him look away whenever you did. He thought it was a little weird at first, but he came around to the antic after the first few times.
“You eventually stopped doing that and you started telling me everything right to my face,” He continued and you understood where he was going then. “I thought that meant that you felt like you could tell me anything, especially all of the shitty stuff.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You said, and it was a bad excuse, but it was also honest. “And I know that I just ended up hurting you, anyway. Probably a thousand times worse than if I just told you the truth from the beginning.”
He looked at you again. “So, what’s the truth?”
You wanted to break his gaze so badly, but you forced yourself not to. “I love you, I really do, but I want things to go back to how they used to be with us. I wanna just be friends. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” He said softly, and he didn’t sound completely hurt, but you still felt terrible.
“I’m sorry,” You told him again because it felt like the only thing to say right then.
He lightly shook his head at you, like he didn’t want you to keep saying it. “At least I don’t have to be scared of your dad anymore.”
His joke made you smile and inwardly sigh in relief; maybe things actually could somehow be okay.
“There’s literally never been any reason to be scared of him. He likes you more than me. Who else can he talk about basketball with?”
Jamie cracked a small smile at that and a comfortable silence lingered for a bit as you took a look at the time displayed across the dashboard. There were only about fifteen minutes left of lunch and it probably would’ve been a good use of your time to focus on studying for your quiz later, but you didn’t bring it up right then and you didn’t move to grab your bookbag from the backseat. This moment actually felt okay and you didn’t want to be the one to break it.
“I’m just realizing that you didn’t answer my question from before,” Jamie eventually said.
You glanced at him, confused. “What question?”
“Do you want to be with him? With Steve?”
You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that, but you were opening your mouth to stutter out something anyway because staying silent felt like it would’ve been an answer in itself.
Before you could manage to say anything, though, Jamie continued. “Actually, no wait, never mind, I don’t think I wanna know the answer.”
He still didn’t sound entirely mad, but another soft-spoken “I’m sorry” was on the tip of your tongue. However, he was opening the door and stepping out of your car before it could fall from your lips.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
This time when the rocks began hitting your window in the middle of the night, they were expected.
You had actually called Steve asking him to come over and he didn’t say no. There was the smallest part of you that thought that maybe he would.
You pushed your window open and looked down at him standing on your front lawn. “Come up.”
A confused look crossed his face. “You’re not coming down?”
You shook your head. “No, come up.”
It was risky, your parents were right down the hall and this was pretty different from you sneaking out, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care.
The way the roof was angled made it easy for Steve to pull himself up and maneuver his way toward your bedroom window. Steve wasn’t completely graceful doing it, but he tried to be, which made it funnier, but you didn’t laugh and instead only smiled at him once he was through the window and standing in front of you.
“Did that look cooler than it felt?”
That time you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, sorry.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and gave you the smallest smile. “A lie would’ve been appreciated.”
“Oh, what I meant to say was that was actually the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” You told him and he laughed.
“Thank you,” He said and then slipped off his jacket and laid it on the back of your desk chair, which left him in just his white t-shirt. “I didn’t see you around school today.”
“Oh yeah, I didn’t really want to go today,” You said with a shrug that you hoped feigned the proper amount of nonchalance. Your answer was only half of the truth— you actually didn’t want to go, but you also couldn’t seem to force yourself to step out of your car after your conversation with Jamie, it felt too hard to, so you instead ended up back at the diner for another handful of hours.
You sat on the floor at the foot of your bed now, leaning back against it, and Steve followed suit, leaving only a little bit of space between you two.
You turned your head to look at him. “How bad is everything?”
“Not terrible,” He answered after the briefest moment of hesitation and you could tell that he was attempting to downplay it all for your sake. “It’ll probably blow over by Monday.”
You weren’t sure that was possible, given just how popular Steve was, but you nodded anyway and your eyes fell to your hands in your lap because it was easier than doing anything else.
Maybe he saw through the half-hearted nod because then he was whispering to you. “It’ll be okay.”
You didn’t say anything in response to those quiet words, but they did manage to soften something inside of you. You pushed away the thought of school and what Monday would look like for you; what everyone probably now thought about you and the shit people would say because of it.
You looked at Steve again and he gave you a small hopeful-looking smile that you suddenly felt like you didn’t deserve.
“I feel like I was way too mean to you this morning and I’m really sorry about that,” You abruptly told him.
Steve shook his head at your words. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”
His hand found one of yours then, intertwining them. It felt like way too tender and sweet of an action, something that had never been done between you two, but it also felt entirely right.
“Did you ever think about why it was so easy for us to do it? To lie and cheat?” You asked him, not holding eye contact and instead focusing on the floor.
You knew your own answer to the question, but you wondered what his was because he never seemed entirely unhappy with Nancy, and since you two rarely ever talked about your respective relationships, you felt like you knew nothing about where his head had been.
“Honestly, I didn’t think about it.”
“Why did you do it?” You asked. “Why’d you want to kiss me that night?”
There was no pause or hesitation before he answered. “Because it was you.”
That was probably the cheesiest thing you’d ever heard, so you immediately nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Stop it. Be serious.”
“I am serious,” His hand gave yours a light squeeze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You remember the first time we met up after school to work on that English project?”
You did remember it, but you only nodded because you really wanted to hear what he had to say about it.
“We hung out for like two hours that day. Worked on the project for a bit and then just talked about random stuff for most of the time, and it was all just so easy for some reason; so damn easy to talk to you. I looked forward to every day that we had to work on the project after that. And then I think it was one of the last few days of us doing it that you randomly mentioned that you had a boyfriend and I realized that I had zero shot with you.”
You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected Steve to say, but you knew that it wasn’t that. He was right that the conversations you two had then had been pretty effortless and nice, but hearing that he liked you all the way back then felt like something that you immediately wanted to shake your head at and deny. There hadn’t been any moments during those two weeks that gave you any indication that he liked you in that way. Yes, he was flirty, and he wasn’t even dating Nancy yet so it could’ve been plausible that he really was flirting with you, but you figured that was just his personality; everyone knew just how damn charming he was.
“And then all those months later I saw you in that backyard. And things were going fine with me and Nancy, but I suddenly really wanted to talk to you. Because you were alone, and I thought that meant that you and Jamie were over because why else would you be alone on New Year’s? But, no he was still in the picture, but you didn’t tell me to fuck off because of him, so I didn’t.”
Things got quiet for a second and before you could really even think about how to respond to that, Steve was speaking again. “Why’d you let me kiss you that night?”
“I didn’t think about it too much,” You immediately answered him, suddenly finding it so easy to be honest. “Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea, but that wasn’t enough to make me wanna stop it.”
You shifted closer to him, closing the last bit of distance between you two and leaning your head against his shoulder.
“It was the kind of bad idea that felt like a good one once it was happening if that makes sense,” You continued. “It felt nice and good and really… Right. Even though it shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, it always felt right,” Steve agreed, voice soft. “It still does.”
A part of you couldn’t help but think that even though this moment felt right too, maybe it also shouldn’t have felt that way. But, everything else— what made this all so wrong in the first place— was already ruined and over, so perhaps it was okay to finally lean into this rightness since you wouldn’t end up feeling bad or guilty about it in the long run.
You pulled your hand away from Steve’s and then shifted so that you were in his lap, legs on either side of him and knees pushing into the carpet below you.
Your eyes met his soft brown ones that looked unsure of what you were about to do or say next.
“I really like you.”
It was the first time you were admitting it out loud and as the words fell from your lips and settled in the quiet air of your bedroom, you realized just how long you’d been aching to finally say them to him.
The smile that spread across Steve’s face practically melted your insides. “I really like you too.”
Your hands came up to settle on his shoulders as you nodded and smiled back at him. “Cool, nice to know that we both like each other.”
“Really like each other,” He corrected you and then leaned in to press the quickest kiss against your cheek, which made you laugh a little.
“Oh, sorry, you’re right,” You said and then it was your turn to lean in. You brushed your nose against his and your eyes slipped shut as you whispered your next words against his lips. “Really like each other.”
You started pulling back but Steve’s mouth chased yours, putting an abrupt end to your teasing. You gave in easily and leaned into him, returning his eagerness and inwardly sighing in contentment at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your pajama shorts rode up as you shifted in his lap and one of Steve’s hands moved to rest on the sides of your thighs to keep you steady.
You wouldn’t mind kissing him forever. It was a thought that hit you a lot in moments like this— as mouths explored and hands roamed— and this was the first time that that thought didn’t scare or worry you because it wouldn’t actually complicate things like it would have before.
You pulled away from his mouth after a moment and your lips found his neck instead. He let out a low hum the second you grazed your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot on his skin; you had discovered it the second time you two made out in his car and you adored the soft sound he made when you found it.
“You still have unicorns on the wall,” Steve abruptly said and the words felt so random that you stopped your movements.
You let out a laugh against his neck. “Shut up. Why are you bringing that up right now?”
“Sorry, I had to turn down the mood somehow,” He said and you pulled back to look at him. “Since your parents are right down the hall.”
“Well, I guess that just means that you have to be really quiet for once.”
He let out a sound that resembled both a scoff and an amused laugh. “Me?”
The tiniest hint of a smirk played on your lips as you nodded, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, you get really loud, Harrington.”
“I think we have very different memories of what this last month has been like,” He said and then he was tilting his head up and finding your lips again before you could potentially say anything in response to him.
His hands moved from your thighs to your hips and he pulled you down against him. There were some layers separating you two— your thin shorts and the sweatpants Steve had on— but it was still the perfect amount of friction. You were brushing roughly against the tent in his sweatpants, which made you inadvertently moan into the kiss.
“See?” Steve mumbled against your lips. “You’re the loud one.”
You pulled back a little, it was too hard not to laugh, even as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “That was very evil.”
“I’m sorry,” He said, but smiled at you. “Come on, let’s go to my car. Maybe head to the lake? You can be as loud as you want there.”
You nodded at his teasing suggestion, but still slotted your lips against his once more, not wanting to move out of this position just yet. Steve didn’t seem to mind at all and he pulled you closer, as close as you two had been so many times before.
You could recognize that this was a weird set of circumstances and the smallest part of you was trying to figure out how much of it you’d end up looking back on and regretting— the lies and secrets that started all of this and ended up hurting people just like you knew it would. But, in this moment, you deliberately didn’t think about that. Instead, you focused on Steve and how glad you were that he was here and how happy you were to have him in your life.
You whispered those sentimental words to him moments after they hit you; labeling them as cheesy and he immediately shook his head and told you that they weren’t.
“I’m happy too,” He whispered back and one of his hands came up to find your cheek. The way he stroked your skin so tenderly made you suddenly turn shy under his gaze, but that didn’t make you want to look away from him. “That I’m here with you. And that you want me to be.”
“I think I’ll always want you to be,” You said, voice still soft and quiet, and it didn’t hit you how true those words were until they were out in the open. Maybe they were a bit blindly optimistic, but that didn’t change how much you meant them right then.
Steve kissed you again and you two stayed like that for a little longer before you moved out of his lap and the two of you finally headed to his car.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine
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Baby It's Cold Outside
"Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me?"
•pairing: yunho x fem!reader
•word count: 1k
•tags: MDNI, suggestive, jealous and possessive Yunho, reader is kinda stupid (sorry), alcohol consumption, drink spiking (DO NOT DO THIS????), ...did I miss anything? probably
Summary: Quite literally based off the controversy with the song "Baby It's Cold Outside", after spending a little too long with your date, Yunho, you try your best to go home. He seemingly does not want you to leave however.
A/N: I have a confession...one of my taboo kinks is to be drugged and taken advantage of, but you didn't hear that from me! For real though, please be careful with your drinks being spiked. Protect yourself and others while under the influence. Remember this is only fiction and to not be taken seriously or to give anyone any ideas. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆───
Your phone dinged with a notification. A message from your roommate, asking where you were. You previously told them you were going to meet up with this guy you matched with on Tinder. You had been chatting back and forth for a while, so you had some trust with him. It wasn’t a one-night stand or anything, just the first time meeting up. You glanced at the time on your phone after reading your roomie’s message and realized you had stayed way longer than you expected.
“Yunho, I’ve really enjoyed our time, but I do have to get going.”
“Mmm, can’t you just stay a little longer? The temperature is not the warmest right now.”
“Yeah, well, ‘tis the season for that. Plus, my roommate just messaged asking where I was.”
“You have someone else expecting you?” His voice was laced with a hint of jealousy. You scoffed at his comment softly.
“Relax, it’s just a roommate Yunho, plus, ‘they'” - you say with air quotes - "are a lady, so you can rest easy.” You use your hands and push yourself up off the couch you both are sitting on.
“I see. Well, I don’t want you to freeze out there.” Yunho stands up after you do and starts to get closer to you. His tall stature throws you off for the 100th time. You gaze up at him with your mouth parted slightly.
“I’m sure I’ll be okay. I dressed prepared for the weather.”
“I know, but doesn’t this warm fire feel so much nicer?” His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and rest there. The action sends a small chill up your spine.
“I-it does.” The remaining confidence you had slowly leaving you, softly submitting to staying with Yunho for the night. You stare at each other for a moment before you blink and shake your head and back away from him. “No, I need to leave.” You peek your head past his shoulder to look out the window near the front door. The snow is coming down quickly and heavily. Yunho follows your gaze and returns his attention back to you, a soft smirk on his face.
“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you. Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me until the snow trucks go by?” His hands leave your hips and tenderly hold your hands. His sentences came across as questions, but you knew you really wouldn’t have much of a choice.
“Fine. I suppose one more won’t hurt.” You glance off to the side, disappointed with yourself that you could not stand your ground, but knowing he also had a point. If you left now, who knows what could happen to you out there with the snow coming down the way it is?
“Good~. I’ll go get the drinks. Just sit back down for me.” His eyes are full of tenderness and care. His hand invites you to sit back on the couch. There was no denying his charm and how your heart fluttered with him wanting you to stay longer. You sat back down, looking up at him, and he gave you an approving nod before heading to the kitchen to prepare the drinks. You pulled your phone back out and shot a message to your roomie.
“You’re smiling a lot over there.” Yunho’s voice ringing through your ears, causing you to jump suddenly. He hands over the small glass he just poured for you.
“Oh, heh, yeah. My roommate is just being...perverted." You chuckle softly as you grab the drink from his hand, a slight blush coming across your face. He responds with a soft “hmm” and sits back down next to you.
The situation feels familiar. Being in this same position not that long ago. Drinks in your hands, chatting about frivolous things, sitting in the exact same spots. Like nothing has changed, besides the fact you are staying a few minutes longer than you intended. The night drags on; the snow keeps coming down. The sudden broadcast on the news advising people to stay inside and not go out due to dangerous conditions. Once that message finishes, the smirk on Yunho’s face grows even larger. You furrow your eyebrows towards him, thinking the alcohol was starting to take effect and making you see things.
“Yunho, it's been a pleasure, but I seriously need to go.” You set the cup down on the table in front of you and stand up. Feeling like all of the blood suddenly left your head, you start to fall forward. Yunho, quick on the draw, stands up and catches you.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy darling. Didn’t you hear the weather experts? It’s dangerous to go out there.”
“I promised my roommate I’d be back.” Your words start to come out slurred, unintentionally.
“Y/N I can’t allow you to go out there. Especially in this condition.” A concerned tone in his voice as he looks you over, holding you up and in place any time you try to move.
“Yunho…” Your sentence falls off as you look at him. Everything in the room except for him is spinning, and suddenly your vision becomes blurred. Your body starts to feel light and tingly. Am I about to pass out? You think to yourself. From what little is left you can see, Yunho’s eyes shift from concerned to dark and sinister.
“I can’t allow you to leave Y/N.”
“Yunho…what did you…?” Next thing you know, he has you spun around, and you feel him grab your wrists and tug them together. Yunho leans in towards your neck and whispers in your ear.
“Perhaps I put a little something in your drink to help you stay longer.”
“Wha…” None of this making any sense due to your body practically shutting down at this point.
“Shh, shh, shh.” Yunho places his spare hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, and not too long after that, he feels your body go limp against him. The drink has taken full effect now. Yunho quietly sings to himself, in his deeper register...
“Baby, it’s cold outside~.”
Tags: @pre1ttyies@isiloiale@moongoddess1982@xuchiya@myloveforyunho @ywtfvs @meowmeeps @tinyelfperson @httpseungmxn @acupoftaewithsomesuga @tiredlittlevirgo @no1likevie @arki-sha @yeosangsbbg @10nantscompanion @skzooluvr
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"Is the room to your liking?"
Riddle's tentative voice rings through the peaceful silence. He's stood like a stranger, unsure and hesitant in his crimson pajamas. Which is ironic given the fact that it’s his own room that the two of you are in. Really, that should be you standing around awkwardly. But instead here you were, sat on his king sized bed in similar pajamas without shame.
"Riddle," you don't have to fake the giddy grin as it stretches across your face painfully wide. "Any room is to my liking considering the shack I currently call home."
He gives you a concerned little smile in response. You couldn’t help it, you were excited to finally be able to sleep on a mattress that wasn’t lumpy. Or creaky. And or slightly moldy. The point being you’re excited to get some good sleep.
Riddle flicks off the lights and starts to settle into bed. You follow his lead, because if there is one thing Riddle Rosehearts can do is be a commanding presence even in satin pjs.
He turns on his side, staring at you from across a reasonable gap given the fact that you were currently sharing a bed. A really big one at that but a bed regardless.
And then continues to stare as a questionable silence occurs.
“Do you always go to bed this early?” You blurt out before you can think any better of it. The awkwardness was just asking to be broken.
“This is early?” Riddle’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I’ve always gone to bed at this hour, even as a child.”
You can just vaguely make out the light of the still setting sun from the window behind you.
“Well, I mean, what time do you normally get up?”
“6 am.”
“Oh,” well. Maybe he’ll let you sleep in, enjoy the luxury of a non-lumpy bed while you still can.
“You seem apprehensive.” Riddle fiddles with the blanket in his hands where it rests right below his chin. You try and shoo the imagery of a small child being tucked in out of your brain.
Thank god his unique magic didn’t have to do with reading minds, otherwise you’d be thrown to the streets with a collar as a parting gift.
Speaking of collars and lack there of, today had marked a month since Riddle’s “big summer blowout” as you have codenamed it as. And what started as a “1 month of sobriety” joke by Ace turned into an actual celebration by Cater. So, naturally, you dragged yourself along and helped yourself to Trey’s mouthwatering pastries. But then one thing led to another and somehow you were roped into playing a Twisted Wonderland version of Monopoly that led to Grim melting all the plastic house pieces in a fit of firey tantrum to then being forced to fix them by Riddle in an impromptu magic lesson/lecture and—
Yeah, so a lot happened. And next thing you know, you’re being surveilled watched by Trey as you meticulously brush your teeth along to his direction… for some reason? Turns out Ace wasn’t spewing complete lies about Trey’s “fetish” for teeth. You wouldn’t call it that, personally. It was more like a… slightly uncomfortable passion.
But anyway, here you are. Sleeping over at Heartslabyul because Riddle had insisted you and Grim stay the night since by the time you had realized, it was past curfew. Though, surprisingly, Riddle insisted that you share his bed. And Grim, still more than a little apprehensive about the Dormhead, scampered off to sleep with the other freshmen. Cramped dorm rooms be damned.
“Prefect?”
You shake yourself from your thoughts, realizing you had left Riddle hanging for your answer.
“No, no. I’m just… difficult to get up in the morning.” You settle on saying, fiddling with the comforter much like Riddle was.
“Oh, well you can’t be worse than Ace. He’d sleep the entire day away if I allowed it.”
You can see that familiar spark of disapproval flare up behind his eyes and you instinctively tense up. Though as quick as it was there, it fizzles out. Reminding you that yes, this was Riddle, but not the same one that nearly decapitated you with a rose bush.
This is the one that you saw break down in tears on the Heartslabyul lawn after treating it like a playground sandbox. The one that nearly did it again—the crying part, not the sandbox bit—as he pulled you aside and apologized for nearly killing you.
You remind yourself that as you decide to take a small leap of faith with your next words.
“I was also sort of hoping to sleep in tomorrow.”
“Oh,” is all he says. Which isn’t terrible, but not exactly good either.
“Since, you know. It’ll be Sunday. And, you know, still the weekend so. Good to get caught up on sleep while you can… you know.”
He’s analyzing what you’ve said, you can tell by the way his eyes get wide and concentrated. Oh, he’s biting his lip now. That means he’s actually considering your thoughts. He’s thinking, he’s about to speak—
“Alright.”
“…Alright?”
“Yes, alright.” He seems to solidify his answer with a nod. “Let’s sleep in.”
Those words settle in your chest like the sweetest relief.
“Brilliant idea, Riddle!” You can feel the excitement as it grows in your chest. So much so you reach over and grasp his hand, shaking it in emphasis. “You won’t regret this, I tell you.”
“You’re acting like I’ve just done something revolutionary.” He titters, cheeks pink from the unexpected contact as you basically start shaking his hand like an eager businessman after a hard won deal.
“How many times have you slept in before?”
He opens his mouth to respond, ponders, and then slowly shuts it.
“See! So it's basically revolutionary. Why do you think we threw you a party?"
"Oh, and that's another thing." He seems to remember something at the mention of the party. "The fact that Ace and Cater kept congratulating me on my '1 month of sobriety' is pure nonsense. I've never had a lick of alcohol my whole life, so why would I be sober if I never got not sober to begin with?"
As he rambled, you could see his confusion slowly shifting towards indignance. His cheeks were beginning to flush, eyebrows knitting together. His fingers were clenching and unclenching in the sheets pulled over his body.
He looks at you now with pursed lips, bordering on pouty, waiting for a reply.
"...Well, it's a, um..." You stop yourself from saying joke. If you wanted Riddle to not possibly get offended, you'd need to overexplain as much as he can overthink. "It's supposed to be ironic. As in like, 'haha get it? Riddle would never get drunk and therefore sobriety makes no sense and therefore is funny!' kind of ironic."
You subconsciously ended up avoiding eye contact throughout your entire explanation. And also leaving out the comparison of his... "moments" with alcoholism, since you didn't think that would go over very well. So when you finish and decide to just bite the bullet and look, his expression is one of... disappointment?
"Oh," he says, simply and softly. "I see, I guess that... makes sense."
...Maybe you should explain the comparison. "If you need me to elaborate, I can."
"No," he quickly responds with a shake of the head. "That won't be necessary. Your explanation was more than enough."
His eyes are trained on a loose piece of thread near the edge of his pillow yet it's like he's staring straight through it.
"Is there... something else then that's on your mind?"
"I guess I am just... realizing a few things about myself. Especially in regards to these past few months. All those times when I overheard a student comment that I 'couldn't take a joke' were, in essence, correct."
"What?" Talk about a topic shift. "Wait, hold on a second, where did this come from?"
"From just now, actually." He begins picking at the thread he's been zoning out on. "I mean, you saw me. I almost talked myself into a tizzy over, what? A harmless phrase that had no intention of demeaning my character? That ended up turning into a party meant to congratulate me?"
"Well, I mean, there is an underlying comparison between your 'tizzy' moments and alcoholism so—"
"Ace was right."
You blink, momentarily wondering if the person laying across from you is actually Riddle or not.
"How?" You don't bother with hiding your incredulousness, too confused to sugarcoat.
"When he said that everyone around me only panders to my behavior." He huffs, a small humorless laugh filled with self deprecation. "I, all that time, was just silencing thoughts and behavior that I viewed as wrong even though it would've been right. It's no wonder some of the freshman are still hesitant with me. Why it feels like everyone is walking around eggshells when they talk to me."
"Even you, Prefect." He looks... small, truly like a child. Curled into himself like he wishes to disappear from sight. Blinking rapidly like he's trying not to cry. "Even you do it. You let me do what I want, you're never 100% honest with me, and you justify my responses. Like just now."
You open your mouth to rebuttal, but he shakes his head, smiling sadly.
"Don't bother, I can give you examples. Asking me if we could sleep in, expecting me to disagree. Only half explaining the meaning to me since it'd be directly referencing my anger. Which you have yet to actually name for what it is, not once."
You... hadn't even realized you were doing that. It was all just, natural. Instinctive.
"I can... I'm not the most perceptive but, I can tell when you tense up, Prefect."
He meets your gaze, and that's when you process the tension in your shoulders. You had been tensing them, for who knows how long.
"I don't blame you," he speaks before you can begin to try and say anything in response. "Not after everything I did, not after I overblotted and nearly got us all killed."
He looks defeated as he turns over to lie on his back, staring up at the canopy of his bed.
"Ace and all of them were right, I'm just a baby tyrant."
The two of you lapse into silence, you with nothing to say and him having said it all. You don't know how long you stare at his profile for, just scraping the recesses of your brain for the words to say. But eventually, you decide "fuck it" and just let him have it. Like he deserves.
"So you're a bit of a control freak." His head snaps to you but you force yourself to ignore it, barreling onwards. "Scratch that, you ARE a control freak. Can you blame yourself? What with that shitty mom you have, I'd be surprised if you didn't turn out some form of fucked up."
"My mother is—"
"Nope," you abruptly hold a finger up right to his face. "None of that, I'm talking. You want the truth so I'm giving you the truth. Your mom sucks, severely. She basically made you into the baby tyrant that you are. And we, as friends and as your dormmates, have perpetuated that attitude. Thereby continuing the cycle of tyranny until when someone eventually called you out on it, you exploded."
All that momentary fight dies out the more you went on. Every new statement was like a lash across his face. Now he refuses to look at you, too disappointed to meet your gaze. Eyes glossy with unshed tears.
You cross the invisible wall between you two and reach out, grabbing his hand once again in yours.
"But that doesn't mean you can't change." You squeeze his hand, whether to reassure yourself or him is beyond even you. "The fact that you're acknowledging your behavior is proof enough that you're on your way to fixing it. But even then, healing isn't linear. If you take a few steps back, just get back on it again. It's going to be a while but there's nothing you can do about that except let it happen and be patient. Don't let every reminder of your faults be a dissuasion, let it be a motivator to keep going."
You take a moment to breathe, but also to gauge his reaction. Wide eyed and staring at you in wonderment, Riddle lays unmoving. Nothing but the dim impression of street lights outside to illuminate his form in the darkness of his bedroom. Looking at you and only you.
"I'll do better," you tell him, resolute. "I'll hold you accountable. I'll remind myself more to say what I mean, or even call you out on your shit if I need to. And if not me then someone else will, especially Ace. Consequences be damned with him."
He's lying once more on his side, mirroring you like before. His fingers have since found their place around your hand, holding it in kind. His grip tightens with the lull in your speech. You don't know whether it was intentionally or not but it's enough to encourage you to let that last little thought out.
"And for what it's worth, I think you're doing as good a job as any, Riddle."
Silence settles in, him with nothing to say and you having said it all. Well, almost having said it all.
"So," you pipe up before those tears you can see in his eyes decide to fall. "I think this call for a concluding hug, what do you say?"
So, so many emotions fly across his face as you hold open your arms as best you can while lying on a bed. Eventually, what he settles on doing is laughing. Watery and in disbelief, Riddle laughs and leans forwards into your arms.
"Honestly," he chides without an ounce of real intent as he presses his face into your shoulder. "That's how you decide to end your thoughts?"
"I don't see you doing any better, Mr. 'I'm just a baby tyrant.'"
A month ago, that response would've gotten you a one way ticket to collar town. But tonight, he only laughs and holds you tighter.
"Touché, Prefect." He leans back enough that you're able to watch as a smile spreads across his face, unabashed and bright like the sun.
It's one of the firsts of its kind that you've ever seen on his face. You hope you can keep producing more just like it.
#merry f-ing christmas#here's some food#yes i know it's been a while college tried to eat me alive#never take 20 credit hours in one semester#but anyways i'm back and with riddle this time#this was meant to be more lighthearted and less actual coping advice but idk what happened my finger slipped or smth#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst scenarios#twst imagines#twst x reader#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#alice writes twst
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joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader
summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning
word count: 1.1k
cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)
The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder.
You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives.
It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test.
“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in.
“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”
“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness.
You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention.
“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room.
That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor.
“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.
“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together.
“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test.
“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”
You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you.
The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words.
Pregnant
“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.
“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.
Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”
That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers.
“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs.
“What is it?” he says.
You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”
You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest.
He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front.
You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes.
“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.
“Completely serious.”
He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces.
“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his.
“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”
Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”
“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react.
The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before.
“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”
“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”
He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering.
“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think.
Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment.
Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case.
Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind.
“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.
“You know I can’t promise that.”
Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.
author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#mgg#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#spencer reid one shot
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Could I request a fanfic featuring a male reader x Jenna, where they are co-stars in Beetlejuice 2? The story follows the trope "she fell first, but he fell harder." Jenna falls for the reader during filming, but later, the reader also falls for her—and much harder.
i like you, i do
Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader
Warning/s ; none
The lights on set flickered as another take wrapped up. You were in your full costume—black and white pinstripes, messy hair, and green makeup smeared across your face as you played your role in Beetlejuice 2. The director’s voice echoed across the set, calling for a quick break before the next scene. You glanced at Jenna Ortega, your co-star, who had been absolutely killing it as Lydia’s daughter.
From the moment filming had started, you noticed something different about her. Jenna had an infectious energy, always professional and kind to everyone on set. She had a knack for slipping into character instantly, but off-camera, she was the first to crack a joke or offer a smile. There was something magnetic about her, but you chalked it up to her being a talented actress.
What you didn’t realize was that she had started to notice you too.
Jenna had always been good at keeping things professional, but over the past few weeks, something had shifted. Maybe it was the long hours spent on set together or the easy banter you shared between takes. You didn’t see it, but every time you made her laugh, her eyes lingered on you a little longer. When you walked past her, she couldn’t help but follow you with her gaze.
It was subtle at first—the way she’d find excuses to sit next to you during lunch breaks, the small comments she’d make about how great your performance was that day. It wasn’t until one night, during an after-hours shoot, that you noticed something had changed.
You were waiting for the next setup, leaning against a prop table and going over your lines. Jenna walked up beside you, her face still smeared with a bit of makeup from her last scene. She was dressed in Lydia’s iconic goth aesthetic, but the soft smile she gave you was worlds away from the character she was playing.
“Tired?” she asked, her voice casual, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.
You smiled back, shrugging. “A bit. But you know how it is—long days come with the job.”
Jenna tilted her head, her gaze flickering over your face like she was seeing something no one else could. “You’re doing amazing with the role, though. Really. I’ve seen you work on other films, but this… I don’t know, it just feels like you’ve completely embodied the character.”
You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. You’ve been killing it as Lydia’s daughter.”
She smiled at your compliment but didn’t look away this time. “You ever think about what happens after the movie wraps up?”
You furrowed your brow, not sure where the conversation was heading. “What do you mean?”
Jenna shrugged, her hand absentmindedly brushing against yours as she leaned on the table. “I don’t know… We’ve spent a lot of time together, and it’s been fun. But what happens when we’re not filming together every day?”
There was a weight behind her words that caught you off guard. You blinked, glancing at her, and for a second, it felt like the air between you changed. You hadn’t thought much beyond the movie. Sure, you got along great, but this was a job—at least, that’s what you had told yourself. But now, with Jenna looking at you like that, you couldn’t deny the connection building between the two of you.
“I guess we just… move on to the next project,” you said, though the words sounded hollow as they left your mouth.
Jenna’s gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw something like disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly covered it with a soft laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”
The conversation ended, but it left you thinking. Over the next few days, you started to notice all the little things you had been ignoring—the way Jenna would glance your way when she thought you weren’t looking, how she’d laugh a little harder at your jokes, the way she’d linger after filming when everyone else had gone home. It was subtle, but it was there.
You didn’t want to assume anything, though. Maybe she was just being friendly. Maybe you were imagining it. But then, one night after filming, she invited you to hang out at a small diner nearby. It was just the two of you, and the conversation flowed as easily as it did on set, but this time, it felt more personal.
At one point, as you both laughed about some behind-the-scenes mishap, Jenna’s smile faded slightly, and she looked at you with that same look from before—the one that felt like it was asking more than what her words said.
“You know,” she began quietly, “I wasn’t sure about this movie when I first signed on. But meeting you… it’s made it better.”
Your heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes now. She liked you. And for the first time, you realized you liked her too. You hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on your own work to notice, but now that it was in front of you, you couldn’t ignore it.
But even then, you hadn’t fallen yet—not completely.
It wasn’t until the last few weeks of filming that you started falling, and you fell hard. The more time you spent with Jenna, the more you realized how much you loved being around her. She was funny, down-to-earth, and despite her fame, she never let it get to her head. Every moment with her felt easy, natural. You found yourself looking forward to her texts after a long day of shooting, smiling when her name popped up on your phone.
You’d catch yourself thinking about her at random moments—during rehearsals, on your way home, even when you were supposed to be focusing on other things. It was like everything about her had crept under your skin, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling.
One evening, after a particularly emotional scene, you were both walking off set when she stopped you.
“Hey,” she called softly.
You turned to see Jenna standing just a few feet away, a soft, almost nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet, biting her lip before she spoke again.
“I need to tell you something,” she began, her voice almost timid. “I… I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. But now that the movie’s almost over, I don’t want to miss my chance. I really like you, Y/N.”
For a second, you stood there, stunned. She had fallen first. All this time, she had been waiting for you to catch up. And now that she had said it out loud, the weight of your own feelings hit you like a tidal wave.
You stepped closer, your heart pounding as you looked at her. “Jenna… I didn’t realize it until now, but I like you too. A lot. Maybe even more than I should.”
Her eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across her face, one that made your heart race even faster.
Before you could say anything else, she closed the distance between you and pressed her lips to yours. It wasn’t a rushed kiss—it was slow, sweet, filled with all the feelings that had been building between you both for months.
When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you breathless but smiling.
“Guess I fell harder than I thought,” you admitted with a grin.
Jenna laughed softly, her arms wrapping around your waist. “I think we both did.”
From that moment on, things were different. You and Jenna had found something special, something neither of you expected when you first started filming. It wasn’t just about the movie anymore—it was about each other.
Filming wrapped up a few weeks later, and while you both moved on to new projects, your relationship stayed strong. The chemistry you had on set carried over into real life, and no matter how busy things got, you always found time for each other.
And every once in a while, when you caught Jenna looking at you with that same soft smile, you’d remind yourself just how lucky you were to have fallen for her—because while she might have fallen first, you definitely fell harder.
#dailywomen#imagine#fanfic#one shot#jenna ortega#jenna ortega fanfic#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x male reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n
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It Always Leads To You
joel miller x younger fem!reader
summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!
word count: 5,199 words
side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)
part: I / II
Holidays linger like bad perfume.
Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.
"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.
There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.
You nod. "Just tired. That's all"
He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"
"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.
He makes a funny face, and you laugh.
"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"
He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.
"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"
"Hey" Nick calls you out.
"Yeah?"
"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.
It's his. Joel's house.
"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.
It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.
"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"
"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.
"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"
You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"
Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.
As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:
"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"
"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"
"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.
"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"
The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.
There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.
Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?
You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.
"I-I need some air"
It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.
You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.
You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.
"Need help?"
That you're wrong, apparently.
You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.
He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.
"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.
You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.
"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.
"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"
"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"
You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.
"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"
"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"
Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.
"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"
Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.
"Y/n-"
"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"
As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.
"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"
Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.
"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"
The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.
As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.
"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"
He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.
The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.
"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.
"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"
"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.
Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.
"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"
"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.
"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"
You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.
He'll pay for that.
"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"
It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.
"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.
"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"
"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.
He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.
"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"
The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.
"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"
Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.
It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.
You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.
The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.
"Can't sleep?"
You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.
"Not much of a talker, are you?"
"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.
You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.
"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"
"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.
He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.
"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.
He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.
"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.
If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.
A goddamn coward.
Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.
You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.
"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"
"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"
You nod, still absent as he walks away.
"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.
"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.
"Put this in there, will ya'?"
He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.
"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.
"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.
"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.
Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.
Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.
"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"
Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.
"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.
You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.
"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.
"You think that low of me? Please"
You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.
"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."
"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"
Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.
"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"
Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.
"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"
You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.
"You didn't tell me you were close"
"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"
"He still got you a present, though"
You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.
"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"
Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.
Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.
"What is it?" your dad asks.
"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.
You remember it all too well.
"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.
But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.
"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.
You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.
As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.
"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"
The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.
"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.
You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.
"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"
You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.
"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.
"What the hell?"
This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.
"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.
"No?"
"It isn't fair"
"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"
"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"
He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.
"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"
Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.
"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"
His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.
"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"
He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.
Joel teases your needy core with his finger.
"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"
He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.
"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.
"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"
He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.
"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.
Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.
"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"
It's New Year's Eve.
"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.
And now, Nick is leaving.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"
You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.
He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"
"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"
You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.
"See you, y/n. I love you"
Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.
Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.
"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.
"I ain't do shit"
You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"
"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.
"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"
"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"
Your breath hitches.
"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"
He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.
"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.
This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.
He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.
"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.
"Don't"
Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.
Your dress was the first thing to go.
"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"
"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"
He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.
"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.
He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.
"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"
"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"
He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"
You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.
"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"
"Do it, Joel. Just do it"
You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.
His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.
"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"
You needed him, all of him.
"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.
Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.
"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"
"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"
He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"
Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.
The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"
He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.
Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.
After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.
The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.
"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"
He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.
Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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Continuity Crossover!
[D/N] = Designation (Your name)
Cybertronian![Reader]
TFA!Optimus Prime: What’s it like working with other me?
TFP![D/N]: He’s someone who carries the weight on his shoulders. A bot who wants to bring not only justice; also wanting peace return back after the war between Autobots and Decepticons. Especially while we’re trying to revive our Cybertron back to life.
TFA!Optimus Prime: “Hm. Hopefully, that’s possible for my universe.” I don’t want to bother you with more questions about your leader, but what was he like before the war?
TFP![D/N]: Well, he was similar like you. He was able to laugh, smile, doing anything before receiving his title and the Matrix. I still remember times we hung out together after finishing the breems of our old jobs. One time, my Optimus was nervous asking me out.
TFA!Optimus Prime: Ask out you? You two courted.
TFP![D/N]: That sounds outdated, but yeah. Then, rest is history.
TFA!Optimus Prime: *Sudden realization* Wait a nano-klik, are you two…
TFP![D/N]: Conjunxed? Yes. Some don’t know but others knew. We try to be discreet with our relationship and still find ways to spend time together (via missions and stuff). Don’t you have someone waiting for you?
TFA!Optimus Prime: Not really. Not since I came to Earth with my team.
TFP![D/N]: Then, if you happen to see another me in your universe, don’t be afraid to connect with them.
“I’m sure they’ll find you charming.”
[Back on TFA Cybertron]
[Finally, TFA!Optimus found TFP![D/N]’s variant.]
TFA!Optimus Prime: *Feeling a little nervous* Hi, I’m Optimus Prime.
TFA![D/N]: Oh! You’re the one who’s been protecting Earth. Heard you kicked some serious aft against the ‘Cons.
TFA!Optimus Prime: Yes, that’s true, but I’m not the only one. I have a team where we help people and stopping the Decepticons.
TFA![D/N]: Hmm…Honest, polite, and you seem to be the rare type of mech I’d like to know more about.
TFA!Optimus Prime: Really? I mean, this seems too fast and I don’t want to make this awkward.
TFA![D/N]: It’s alright. We can take things slow. How about we share comm links, if that’s alright?
TFA!Optimus Prime: Yes, that would be wonderful.
[The two share each other’s links.]
TFA![D/N]: I need to go somewhere. Contact me when you want to hang out.
TFA!Optimus Prime: Yeah, I’ll stay in touch.
[Another pair forming…]
[(A/N)]: I don’t know what I wrote, but I needed it out of my system.
#Transformers#Transformers Prime#TFP#Transformers Animated#TFA#TFP x TFA#Crossover#TFA Optimus Prime#Optimus Prime#Optimus Prime x reader#Cybertronian!Reader#Autobot!Reader#Transformers x reader#TF x reader
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・。tasty confessions 🥮
you've ordered: a vanilla gingerbread tart! enjoy!
"this is falling, falling in love"
leona kingscholar x reader | word count: 1,418 words
summary: holiday confession gone wrong...and right? 🥮
warnings: none!
note: i don't celebrate christmas, so in the fic, i didn't specify the holiday (used "holiday season" instead)
"trey, a little help here?" you yelled, attempting to carry two trays of tart shells out of the oven.
"ah, coming! you've gotta be careful, y/n." the green haired boy reminded you, rushing over and taking one of the trays.
the cozy holiday season had settled upon night raven college rather nicely. decorations were put up and plans for celebration were in full swing. and you intended to make this one extra special.
you'd decided to bake tarts for your friends in the various dorms and even a few for the night raven staff. as you filled the shells with various creams and custards, trey helped you out, offering up his baking expertise when you were caught in the weeds about how to do this.
as you now cut up various fruits and other sweets for decoration, the door to the kitchen opened and in walked cater, holding grim in his arms.
"i couldn't get him to stop. he somehow smelled your tarts from down the hall." cater said, seeming like he'd put in a lot of effort in trying to stop the cat-like creature.
"hey, you better save some for me, henchman!" grim exclaimed, hopping out of cater's arms and onto the counter.
"don't worry grim. after i'm done, i'll make you all the tuna tarts you want." you smiled, scratching under his chin.
"hey y/n, why are these tarts different than all the others?" cater questioned, pointing to a small batch of tarts that were obviously different from the others.
your cheeks colored a bit upon being questioned, your hand almost dropping the spoon you held.
"those are...for leona." you admitted, cater letting out an excited "ooh!"
it was no secret that you had a crush on leona. the lion beastman had caught your attention the first day you'd arrived. you used to think he was lazy and rude, but after being around him for a while, your outlook changed. and so did your feelings.
"i plan on writing a note to him in which i confess my feelings and...putting in in his tart bag..." you murmured, your cheeks warming up in embarrassment.
"confessing to him with tarts? how cute." trey quipped, placing a tray of finished tarts into the fridge to chill.
"yeah, i just hope it goes well..."
"oh trust me, i'm sure he likes you too. leona isn't keen on putting up with people just like that." cater said, swiping a bit of cream onto his finger and tasting it.
"cater!" you scolded, rushing to grab grim before he dunked his whole head in the bowl.
"alright, alright! enough fun. i've gotta get back to baking." you playfully grumbled, shooing them out.
a day had passed since you cooked up your delicious sweet treats. each person had 5 tarts, all in a clear bag with a colored ribbon on top. you went around to each dorm handing out the tasty tarts and to your surprise, everyone loved them!
you finally stopped in front of your final destination: the savanaclaw dorms. you clutched the basket in your hands, glancing down at it to do one last check. one for ruggie, one for jack, and obviously one for....?! you then realized you were short one bag...and it was the most important bag of all. just where was leona's bag??
in haste, you quickly scrambled back over to heartslabyul, ignoring a nagging riddle as you barged into the kitchen. you looked everywhere, every nook and cranny. absolutely nothing.
you grabbed your phone, calling trey.
"hey trey. have you seen the tarts i made for...you know who?" you asked, praying that he knew something.
"no, sorry y/n. the last i saw of them was when i left last night, and they were still in your basket. did something happen?" he asked, seeming concerned.
"uh, you know what? don't worry about it. thanks trey." you said before hanging up.
it wasn't like the tarts had grown legs and ran away! you didn't have time for this. and you definitely didn't have the time to make new tarts. you asked across the dorms (except savanaclaw) if they'd seen the tarts, to which everyone responded no. what were you going to do?
as you paced around the hallway, someone called out your name. turning, you were met by ruggie, a member of savanaclaw. upon seeing your panic, ruggie made his way over to you, tail flicking.
"y/n, what's wrong? you look more stressed than leona when he can't get his favorite sandwich." he asked.
you let out a sigh of defeat, leaning against the wall. "i made tarts for everyone to celebrate the holidays. i also made...special tarts for leona. i was going to tell him how i feel today, but...i can't find his damn tarts!" you groaned.
"well, what did they look like?" ruggie asked.
"they were in a clear bag like everyone else's. but his had a yellow and black ribbon on it, whereas the ones for you and jack were just yellow." you could already see the guilt on ruggie's face.
"spit it out."
"i may or may not have found said package of tarts...and given them to leona-" ruggie mumbled, visibly sweat-dropping.
your mouth fell open in horror as you realized the situation you were in. leona...had already gotten your tarts!
"ruggie, where is leona right now?" you asked urgently, shoving the basket into his arms.
"oof! uhhh...i think he's in the botanical garden. that's where i gave it to him."
you made a mad dash down the hall, bursting into the garden. your eyes frantically looked around, spotting a tail in the corner of your eye.
when you got closer, your stomach dropped as you saw leona, already breaking into the sweet treats.
"need something, herbivore?" the beastman asked, his tail flicking.
you swallowed, taking a breath before walking over and snatching up the note.
"you didn't read this, right?" you asked, leona smirking as he licked cream off of the corner of his lips.
"and what if i did?" he challenged, your heart dropping.
"h-how much did you-?" "all of it."
the note fell from your hands, your heart aching as you looked leona in the eyes. damn...this was embarrassing.
as you tried to keep yourself from panicking, you stepped closer to him, kneeling down to his level. "so...how do you feel about what you read?"
leona let out a soft "hm", as if he were thinking of the perfect response. "come a little closer." he said.
you shuffled a bit closer to him, mumbling a soft "yeah?" as you did. the lion man just smirked, beckoning you closer.
"come on herbivore, get closer. just a little. and close your eyes."
you moved closer till you were practically touching noses with leona, your eyes fluttering shut. you felt like your heart would leap out of your chest at any given moment.
thwack! you pulled back, your eyes opening in surprise. leona had just flicked you in the forehead!
"what the hell, leona?" you exclaimed, your hand flying up to caress the spot he'd flicked.
"you really are dense." "what-"
leona leaned in a bit closer this time, his breath tickling your cheek. "you think i ate your tarts out of pity? if i didn't want 'em, i could've easily given 'em away. seems i've taken...a liking to you, herbivore."
you froze right there, on the spot. you couldn't believe what you were hearing. THE leona kingscholar just confessed to YOU. you didn't have time to think before leona captured your chin between his thumb and index finger, his emerald green eyes locking with yours.
"hm, you still don't seem very convinced." before you could even think...leona's lips were on yours.
the kiss was soft and warm and made you feel all fuzzy inside. you slowly eased into it, your hands coming up to cup his face as a warmth flowed through your body.
when it was over, you nodded your head, a slight flush on your cheeks. "yeah...i get it now..."
leona let out an amused chuckle, pulling you down to lay with him, a soft yelp leaving you.
"don't you usually sleep alone?" you mumbled, your face warming up.
"you owe me. all your tarts made me sleepy. your punishment is to lay with me and not move a muscle."
you laughed a little, reaching up to tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. "should be easy enough."
and just like that, your holiday was one to remember.🥮
© m00nkissedlover, 2024
#leona kingsholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yn#leona kingscholar x you#leona x reader#leona x you#twst leona#leona kingscholar#x reader#x yn#reader insert#twst wonderland#disney twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fic#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fic#twst leona x reader#twst leona x y/n#twst leona x you#twst x reader#twst x y/n#twst x you
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a/n: Izzy with a girlfriend that has big boobs (like E cup bc I be struggling to survive out here with these things) and he kind of has a thing for them. One night he takes her out with him and the band to a bar and he slowly notices that his bandmates keep staring at her boobs, and eventually (I'mma say Axl does this bc he seems like the type) Axl makes an extremely perverted joke regarding her boobs and it irritates Izzy so much he drags reader home and rails her so hard her legs are shaking the next morning. Also can you write in that he leave hickeys on her yiddies maybe..? TY have an amazing day/night 😊
Dragged:
words: 690
warnings: *smut* *rough sex* *slight praise kink* *drinking (small drinks)*
✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:*
You were embarrassed everywhere you went. It wasn’t embarrassment, it was just your shyness. You had a really big chest and a more than pleasant rack. You were always stared at by men wherever you went. Many women envied you not only because you were with a man that almost every woman wanted but because you had good looks. One night Izzy took you with him to a bar the band usually went to every Friday night.
“Hey babe, what do you want to drink?” He asked.
“Whatever you want to” You smiled slightly.
Izzy didn’t reply. Izzy knew you got nervous quite a bit and easily too. Maybe it was because there were so many people around at a bar on Friday night. You looked towards Steven and Slash. You caught them looking at your chest but you didn’t mind. You were so used to being stared at by perverted men. You just didn’t have the energy anymore to tell them to back off.
Izzy heard you mumble something about Slash and Steven but decided to ignore it. Izzy did not yet realize that everyone in his band was staring at you. The first time Izzy saw Duff look at your chest he ignored it because he thought Duff could’ve been staring at something else next to you. This time he caught all of the members looking at your chest at the same time.
Once they realized Izzy noticed they looked away immediately pretending they were doing something else. Axl started to speak. Axl said a perverted joke about your chest.
This was Izzy’s final straw. He did not like what Axl said about you. He got really mad. He got irritated. Before he even said anything he grabbed your arm and walked away from the group. He started to drag you to the car.
“Izzy, what’s gotten into you?” You ask softly and not annoyed so you don’t piss Izzy off more.
Izzy didn’t respond to your question.
“You know whatever happened wasn’t my fault right?” You told Izzy.
“Axl is just a perverted man,” You said to Izzy.
“Yeah, I know!” Izzy mumbled under his breath.
Izzy didn’t say anything for the rest of the car ride. As soon as you got inside the house he dragged you upstairs. You saw a bulge from underneath just by him being rough with you.
“Get upstairs and get ready to be fucked so good,” Izzy said.
You were left speechless and just did what he asked. You went upstairs preparing yourself for what Izzy was about to do to you. You dressed up in some lingerie and started to brush your teeth and your hair. Izzy came up to you and didn’t say anything; he just started to kiss your neck.
You kept touching his hard member to have more of an effect on him. You took his shirt off and he kept playing with both of your full and round tits. He started to kiss them super hard and you could feel yourself getting wet.
You thought you would have an orgasm off of him kissing your tits alone. He removed your shirt and bra. He removed your panties and you were embarrassingly wet.
“Fuck Izzy so good” You moaned.
With your words of confirmation, he just kept going and kept going.
You played with his hair. You felt disappointed when he took his hands off your tits. He started to unbuckle his pants.
“So wet for me darling.” Izzy sighed.
Izzy stuck his cock up inside of you. As he was thrusting up inside of you he played with your chest again. You noticed four hickeys on your tits.
“Izzy so good,” you moaned.
You held onto his shoulders while he did most of the work. You heard grunts and moans coming out of his mouth.
“Rail me so good baby” you moaned.
“Such a good girl,” Izzy said, playing with your hair as he thrust in.
Once you both were finally done he railed you so good you couldn’t walk for a week. Once you woke up the next morning you could feel your legs shaking.
#rock n roll#80s rock#rock#80s bands#guns n roses#gnr#guns n' roses#izzy stradlin#izzy gnr#izzy stradlin gnr#izzy stradlin fanfic#izzy stradlin fanfiction#izzy stradlin smut#izzy stradlin fanart#izzy stradlin x reader#guns and roses#guns n roses smut#guns n roses x reader#guns n'roses#guns n’ roses x reader#gnr fanfiction#gnr smut#gnr x reader#rock music#90s rock#80s rock n roll#80s rock and roll#80s rockstars#rpf fanfiction#rpf x reader
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Close Call
Little sister!Reader
After a close call during a hunt, The Winchester brothers panic as Castiel heals you.
Injuries, angst
My second fic :) I'm still trying to get the hang of writing but hopefully you all enjoy :)
You and the boys have been working on a case dealing with werewolves. You managed to catch one and kill it, and he confessed there is a whole pack in town and now you need to find the rest of them. You and Sam stayed in the motel and studied up on werewolves while Dean and Cas went out to the recent attacks around the town.
You didn’t get a lot of sleep the last few nights, as the werewolf attacks were happening faster and faster, and the four of you have been out every night on watch for any leads. Sam nudges your shoulder, and your chin slips off your hand and you jolt awake.
“Everything alright?” Sam asks while he shuts the book you fell asleep reading and sits down next to you.
“I’m okay, just tired from being out so late last night.” You say, rubbing your eyes.
Dean calls Sam and he gives you a gentle smile before he answers the phone and puts the call on speaker.
“Hey Dean, did you find anything?”
“Yeah. One of the Officers was a werewolf. He told us where they’re all staying before we took him out. We’re gonna hit it tonight alright?” Dean explains and you hear Castiel in the background ordering food for the three of you.
“Sounds good to me. Did he say how many of them are staying there?” You reply
“Nope. By the looks of how many attacks there's been, I don’t think it would be more than 7 or 8.” Dean says confidently.
Sam keeps talking about the case with Dean and you start getting silver bullets and knives ready for the hunt.
Later that night the four of you are on the way to the werewolves hiding house in the Impala. Sam and Dean are having their own conversation in the front while you and Castiel talk in the back.
“Have you ever hunted werewolves before?” You ask Cas.
“A few times yes. Angels don’t usually deal with them. Have you?”
“Occasionally yeah. I haven’t seen them in a while though, not since we still hunted with dad.” You say looking away. You didn’t like talking about your dad anymore, nobody really did. “I haven’t practiced my shooting in a bit too.”
“I’m sure we got it kid.” Dean says to you looking in the rear view mirror. “It’s gonna be a small pack. It’s gonna be in and out.”
You give him a smile. You turn to yawn and look out the window for the rest of the ride.
The four of you get ready and watch the house waiting for Dean to decide when to go in.
“Alright. Sam and Cas you two go in the side door, Y/N and I will go through the front.”
You look at Dean surprised. He normally chooses Sam when splitting up and it would make sense here too.
“Are you sure Dean?” You ask him nervously. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you not want to go in? What’s wrong?” Sam looks at you knowing you're tired, but he knows you don't want to tell the truth to Dean.
“No, it’s okay.” You say quietly, walking away a bit and focusing back on the house. Everybody does one last look at each other before splitting up and breaking into the house.
Dean kicks the door down and you both run in aiming separate ways. You hear Dean shoot a werewolf down and he turns to check on you in the now empty room. You can hear the other wolves in the house warning the others and running to defend against the four of you. You run up to the doorway, calling it clear and Dean runs into the kitchen with you following.
Making your way through the house, you and Dean each take down a few werewolves, and eventually meet up with Sam and Cas. The upstairs is still loud with werewolves running and escaping. You all say how many you took down and quickly realize there are at least triple the number of werewolves than Dean previously thought.
“But that doesn’t make sense. How can there be so many??” He says reloading his gun and looking around the room.
You responded “The attacks were happening faster and faster. I guess they don’t want to be careful anymore.” You focus on reloading your gun when you hear a growl.
You turn and see a werewolf sprinting at you and tackles you, losing all air in your lungs and dropping your gun. It claws at your stomach, leaving a huge gash. You quickly start seeing stars and your vision starts clouding, black slowly starting to take over. Coughing and screaming out you hear multiple gunshots and the werewolf dying.
Sam and Dean run up to you, eyes shocked at your injury.
“She’s really hurt.” Sam says, tearing up trying to get your eyes to focus.
“Sammy we gotta get her out of here.” Dean says loudly and begins to pick you up, flinching when he hears you cry out in pain. “There’s too many wolves here we need to leave.”
Dean runs as quickly as possible to Baby, putting you in the backseat. He throws the keys to Sam and yells "Drive!!” Castiel gets in the passenger seat and Sam runs to the driver’s seat and quickly starts the car, driving away from the house.
Dean holds you in the backseat trying to keep himself composed as he talks to you. “It’s okay Y/N. It’s gonna be okay alright? I’m so sorry I should’ve paid more attention. Look at me Y/N, open your eyes.” He begins to panic and yells at Sam to drive faster.
“We need to get far enough away; Cas needs to heal her.” Sam says speeding down the road.
You slip in and out of consciousness and wake up to Dean crying over you, and Sam and Cas yelling in worry. The three boys can’t stand hearing you scream in pain. You pass out and when the car is suddenly silent, Sam pulls over quickly as he and Castiel rush out of the car to reach you in the back seat.
“Cas, heal her.” Dean says solely focused on holding you still. Sam holds your hand as Castiel puts his hand on your stomach. His hand emits a bright white glow and Sam and Dean look away.
You wake up in the motel room. You look around at the quiet room and see Castiel in the corner staring at you.
“You're awake.” He says walking up to you. “I healed you. You’ve been asleep for a couple days, Sam finally got Dean to leave and eat.” You lift your shirt and there isn't a single scratch on your abdomen.
Castiel helps you sit up and hands you a bottle of water. “Your physical injuries are healed, but your body is tired. I could tell you haven’t slept in a few days.”
You drink the water and hand it back to Castiel. “Yeah, those night watches have been pretty hard. I appreciate you healing me and staying with me.” You give him a small smile and he gives you one in return and lets you rest longer.
Sam and Dean come home and seeing you sitting up in bed they run up to you. Dean hugs you tightly and when you yelp in surprise he lets go, scared you were somehow still injured. “Kid, I was so scared. I thought we lost you.” he says kneeling beside the bed, looking at you.
Sam gives you a big hug before climbing into the other side of the bed and letting you lean into his side. “It was really scary Y/N. I’m so relieved we got you healed in time.”
“I’m really sorry guys.” You say tearing up. “I haven’t slept in days, and I really wanted to help fight them, but I know I should’ve stayed back.”
Dean grabs your hand, “Y/N this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you, and I should’ve stuck to the plan. Please don’t blame yourself.”
You all sit there quietly talking to each other until you slowly fall asleep and get more rest.
#supernatural#fanfic#dean winchester#dean winchester x little sister#sam winchester#sam winchester x sister!reader#castiel#winchester!sister#winchester!reader#spn#writeblr
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WARNING: ANGST
Talk of wanting to commit unalive.
You have been warned.
The LADS boys when...they find your 'Diary'
--Zayne-- Part 3 of 4
This is gonna be...fun lol
Zayne-
•He knew, somewhat, of what happened. In the time that he was gone, he knew something happened.
•Before he left, when you were younger kids, you were so...bratty. He may have looked like he hated it but he just couldn't get enough of you, as you were.
•He left in order to learn more, to help your heart.
•But when he was finally able to come back, when he saw you again...it was like whiplash.
•You were so quiet. So...withdrawn.
•This won't do.
•He knew you didn't speak about your family anymore. He didn't pry, they were full of themselves before he left, probably nothing changed with them so he saw no point in worrying.
•So he worked, even more, to get you to come back. His little bratty childhood friend.
•He succeeded after a while. You were confident again, acting like the kid you were a long time ago but...more mature this time.
•Though he may not like that your job puts you in harms way, but he couldn't force you to stop something that made you happy.
•He saw your eyes gleam when you saved lives. He couldn't, wouldn't ever even try to take that away from you.
•Today was no different.
•You just successfully defeated one of the most powerful Wanderers the association has seen in a while, yeah there were casualties but there were more survivors than wounded. Thanks to your quick thinking.
•He took you out to celebrate, after checking you were unharmed.
•You both went to an old restaurant that you used to go to as kids, he wanted to see you happy with memories.
•What he didn't expect was to run into your Mother and...some random man?
•You all stared at each other for a few seconds before Zayne stepped between you and smiled, stiffly.
•"Oh Hi Zayne, it's been a while. How are things?"
•While Zayne talked with your mother, he figured out a few things.
•Your parents got divorced, and your mother is... a complete narcissist.
•She married another narcissist, perfect for each other.
•The whole conversation took a turn however when they asked what you did for a living...
•When told, your Mother frowned.
•"So you were one of the people who failed so save those innocent lives lost?" "No wonder they died. Maybe you should have tried harder."
•When you told her that you got hurt trying your best, she frowned deeper.
•"Still, if I were you I would have tried harder and if that wasn't enough I would have sacrificed myself. I wouldn't be able to live with myself, like you, because I have a soul."
•Upon hearing this, Zayne understood more of why you stopped being around your mother.
•Zayne quickly came up with a work emergency, saying that he was your ride and you left most of your things in his car so he'll take you with him.
•He took your hand gently, paid the bill, and led you away to his car.
•He could feel icy hot anger creeping up his back, he knew if he heard anymore he would accidentally use his evol.
•He loved you since the beginning. He couldn't stand hearing that and knowing that you used to believe that... hopefully you don't anymore, not if he can help it.
•He drove you home and both of you decided to stay inside to read a few books you have yet to read.
•When you got home, you immediately went to take a shower, to get your thoughts together, while Zayne looked through the surprisingly large selection of books.
•While searching, he saw one of your old notebooks that he would see you write in sometimes. He's asked about it and you told him he could read it at a later date.
•He figured now was the later date, so he picked it up to read.
•Only a few pages on and he realized what you ment by 'later'.
•This notebook is the equivalent to writing a Will...and he didn't like how you were 'talking' about your death coming sooner or later whether it be by natural causes or your own hand...he definitely didn't like that part.
•He kept reading, thinking that maybe he should have convinced you to therapy, but he saw something about how you have been to too many therapists and you're sick of it, so he decided not to worry about it quite yet.
•He got to the last entry, which seemed pretty recent, when he heard your shower stop so he immediately snapped the book shut and put it back where he found it, picking up a random book next to it. Something called 'Forgiving what you can't forget', he doesn't know where you got this one nor does it look like something you would buy yourself.
•The entire time you all were reading together, he kept glancing from his book to you and the notebook.
•He decided he was definitely going to make sure that nothing in that book will come to fruition. If it's the last thing he does.
**I'm working on Rafayel's as we speak lol the last one, and imma try and make that one extra angsty cause I'm realizing most of you are Rafayel girlies 😘**
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace imagine#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads angst#l&ds
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Amor | Marc Bernal x Reader
pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader
summary . . . Marc surprises you with a tattoo of your initials for your two year anniversary
request . . . yes!! based on this request!
word count . . . 1.1k+
warnings . . . none!
faceclaim . . . N/A
alexavia yaps . . . ok thats it i need marc in my life right now right here
taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)
. . . It was a typical day; quiet, simple, and peaceful, until Marc had a little surprise up his sleeve. Literally.
You had no idea what he was planning for your two year anniversary, but when he picked you up in his car that afternoon, there was something about the way he was acting that made you suspicious.
He was unusually quiet, glancing at you with that soft, knowing smile of his, like he was holding onto a secret.
You couldn’t figure out what was going on, but you’d learned that when Marc had something up his sleeve, it was always worth the wait.
"Where are we going?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you pulled your seatbelt tight.
Marc just smirked, one hand briefly brushing against yours as he drove. "Patience, amor. You’ll see soon enough."
Your curiosity only grew the closer you got to the destination. You’d been to the area before, but never to this particular street, which had several small shops.
Marc turned into a parking lot, then quickly hopped out of the car, running around to open the door for you.
You glanced up at him, confused. "Marc, what’s going on?"
"Just trust me," he said, his smile only growing wider. "It’s a surprise. And I promise you’re going to love it."
With that, he led you inside a small tattoo studio that you hadn’t noticed before, its dark, cozy interior decorated with sketches and pictures of tattoos.
The air smelled like ink and something comforting, and you felt a small flutter of nerves in your stomach.
"Marc?" you questioned, looking up at him with confusion. "What’s happening?"
Marc laughed, a troublesome glint in his eyes as he walked over to the front desk. "You’ll see. Just relax, okay?"
Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. "You’re getting a tattoo?"
His grin was all teeth as he shrugged, but then his expression softened, and he took your hand in his, leading you toward a seat near the back.
"I’m getting something for you, amor," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your wrist.
You blinked, completely surprised. "For me? What do you mean?"
Marc’s eyes sparkled with affection. "For our two year anniversary," he murmured, kneeling down beside you as he motioned for you to sit.
He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to you, revealing a design that took your breath away.
It was simple yet deeply meaningful; a small, elegant tattoo of your initials in Marc's handwriting that seemed to be written with so much love. There, at the bottom, were two small hearts.
Your heart skipped when you realized what it was.
"This is… for me?" you whispered, your fingers grazing over the design in awe.
Marc nodded, his gaze intense as he looked at you with soft, almost nervous eyes. "Yeah. I wanted to do something meaningful. Something that showed how much you mean to me."
You were speechless for a moment, the enormity of his gesture washing over you. "Marc… I don’t even know what to say."
He laughed softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, in my own way, how much I love you. And how much these two years have meant to me."
Before you could speak, a tattoo artist walked over, greeting Marc with a warm smile. He briefly explained what was going to happen, setting up the equipment.
Marc glanced back at you one last time before taking a seat on the chair, rolling up his sleeve and getting ready for the tattoo to begin.
You watched him carefully, your emotions swirling. There was a nervousness in his eyes, but also a quiet confidence that he was doing something important.
For you. And for the love you two shared. He reached out, taking your hand in his with a gentle squeeze as the needle buzzed to life.
"It’s okay, amor," Marc murmured, his voice steady as you sat beside him. "You’re here with me, right?"
"Of course," you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him.
As the tattoo began to take shape on his skin, you stayed close, sitting beside him, never once letting go of his hand.
The room was filled with the sound of the needle as the artist worked, but it was Marc’s soft, steady breathing and the way he kept glancing over at you with that same loving gaze that made your heart race.
Once it was done, Marc stood up, revealing the tattoo that now sat proudly on his skin. The sight of your initials, forever etched into his arm, made you feel a rush of emotions.
Love, admiration, gratitude.
Marc smiled down at you, his expression vulnerable and soft. "I wanted to carry you with me always," he said, his voice gentle. "To remind me of the best two years of my life."
Tears stung your eyes, and you could hardly hold back the overwhelming emotions that bubbled up. "Marc… this is… this is the most incredible thing anyone’s ever done for me."
He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. "I’m glad you love it, mi cielo. I’ll carry you with me, always."
You pulled him into a tight embrace, your heart full to bursting with love and gratitude. "I love you so much, Marc. I really do."
"And I love you more than anything," he whispered, holding you close as you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms.
He kissed the top of your head gently before pulling back just enough to look at you. "Happy anniversary, mi amor. Here’s to many more years of love, memories, and tattoos that remind us of how much we mean to each other."
You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you looked at him, at the tattoo that symbolized the two of you, your love, your bond, your forever.
"Happy anniversary, Marc," you said, your voice thick with emotion as you kissed him softly on the lips. "I’ll love you for all of time."
And in that moment, with your initials on his arm and your heart completely and utterly his, you knew you were both ready to spend the rest of your lives together.
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