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felicitysmoaksx · 2 years ago

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Hi Everyone and welcome to my project for the last month and a half! This has been so much fun to write and I'm really excited to finally share it with you all! Hopefully, you all enjoy it as much as I have because this fic is the longest one I've written from start to finish! (Oh yeah, it's already finished by the way! All 27k of it) And I'm stepping out of my comfort zone big time with this fic and I wrote it a little bit differently than my other fics so I hope it comes across well!

If you want to set the mood for this chapter, I recommend Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift because that kind of help to inspire Sarah and Connor's relationship.

Happy reading!

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary: Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, vague depictions (at the moment but will go into more detail in later chapters) of violence.

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Hold On, I Still Want You

Sarah panted heavily as she leaned against Connor’s broad shoulder. Her lips pressed against his neck as their pleasurable highs continued to wane.

“I think it’s official. I definitely like you on top more.” He panted in her ear, his hand drawing feather-light patterns on her back. Sarah laughed softly before angling her head up to meet his eyes. He laughed when he saw her brown eyes dancing mischievously. Then he leaned in and stole a kiss and a wanton whimper escaped her as he rolled them over and slipped out of her. Disposing of the condom by throwing it in the trash can by his nightstand.

“Be right back,” he mumbled against her lips, then he slipped out of the warmth of her hold and the bed. She watched as he made his way to the bathroom, biting her lip at the sight of his back muscles constricting. Those powerful back muscles that lifted and kept her from falling every time they did this. (Some people loved abs or biceps. Or even asses. Sarah being the unconventional one, loved powerful backs and their muscles) When he disappeared from her view, Sarah turned on her side, eyes shutting as she curled up under the blanket.

When they first started this arrangement over three months ago, Sarah used to start searching for her clothes immediately after. Until Connor asked her to come back to bed. (Because Connor Rhodes was a cuddler after sex. Who knew?) Now, the curly-haired brunette didn’t move much more than to stretch out in his bed.

It was a little while later when the warmth of the blanket was replaced with cool air against her skin that made her groan as she curled more into herself.

“Sorry,” Connor said, but he was chuckling as he apologized. Then she felt a hand on her knee and a warm dampness on her thighs. She peeled an eye open to a sight that made warmth unfurl in her stomach. It always did.

“You don’t have to do that.” Sarah insisted. Like clockwork, Connor peered up at her with his blue eyes hooded, after he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. Sarah squirmed at the feel of his beard against her skin. It always tickled in the most delicious way. “I know.”

Then he continued cleaning her up. None of her past boyfriends (not that Connor was her boyfriend) so much as offered her a wash rag to clean herself up. Let alone do it for her. When she brought this up to the double-certified surgeon though, he just shrugged.

“The difference between boys and men,” he said simply, while he shook his head disapprovingly. Then he grabbed the wash rag from her and started to clean her up himself. From that conversation stemmed this routine they had now. It was unfairly intimate and arousing all at once. Leave it to Connor Rhodes to make something like this so unbelievably hot. When he was finished, Connor threw the rag in the laundry basket.

“I can’t stay the night. I have no clean clothes and I didn’t bring any with me,” she told him as he climbed back under the sheets and snuggled up against her. Connor hummed as he squeezed her in tighter to him. “You do. I did laundry the other day and washed what you left here last week.”

That same warmth from before was back. Sometimes with moments like this. It was easy to forget that Connor Rhodes wasn’t her boyfriend.

“Connor?” Sarah whispered. The man behind her hummed again. There was a pause before the curly-haired brunette admitted, “I have to pee.”

Chuckling Connor lifted his arm so Sarah could go, which she did with a sheet wrapped around her body.

“Three months of us doing this and you still can’t be naked in front of me?” Connor teased with one hand propping up his head when she came back. Sarah rolled her eyes. She dropped the sheet in favor of picking up the shirt he discarded earlier that night. He snorted as she pulled the large shirt over her frame.

“Not my fault you keep it freezing in here. Not everyone is a furnace like you.” She retorted, as she climbed back into the bed. Her legs caged in his left thigh as she tried to climb over him to get to her side of the bed.

“Good thing you have me to keep you warm then.” He said easily, pulling her back into his arms. She gave a small shriek as she was thrown off balance that turned into muffled laughter as Connor kissed her. His arms were warm and his heart was steady. She noticed later as she rolled over, her ear pressed against his chest. But he wasn’t hers. It was getting increasingly hard to remember that the longer their arrangement went on.

For months, it went on like this. At the end of their shifts, she would slip into his car and they would head back to his apartment. Or if they went to Molly’s, they would each have a drink before catching each other’s eye with a gleam in them. Someone nodded at the other. Then they would make an excuse before disappearing together. Sarah wasn’t ashamed to say that’s probably where her newfound taste and interest in rum came from, considering she could taste the after-tones of it on Connor’s lips after their nights at Molly.

But Connor Rhodes: double certified surgeon, wasn’t her boyfriend. A mantra that she repeated in her head many times a day. Especially by month five when Erin came over for dinner and noticed half of her stuff was gone (Sarah knew she had been leaving a few things at…it felt wrong to call him a booty-call but wasn’t that what he was, and he was not her boyfriend and they were getting off subject. Sarah knew she had left a few things at Connor’s but she didn’t realize that half of her closet was missing.) because she had wandered into Sarah’s bedroom to get the necklace her pseudo-sister had borrowed for a charity event at the hospital.

“Where is your stuff?” Erin asked as she came back to the kitchen. The necklace in her hand.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, glancing up at her from where she was chopping an onion. She had found a new recipe for vegetarian spaghetti.

“Half of your closet is gone. I couldn’t even find the dress I helped you pick out for that charity event.” Erin told her. The curly brunette gave a slight wince. Her pseudo-sister wouldn’t find the skin-tight formal dress because it was at Connor’s. Probably at the bottom of his hamper…He had peeled it off of her that night after the charity event and had been delightfully surprised to find that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath the skin-tight fabric.

Sarah shivered. That was also the night he had performed a very special mock-up open heart surgery on her…where he traced a path to the incision sites with his lips and made fake incisions with his tongue, all while explaining to her what would be happening.

She never thought medical terminology could be so arousing, but like everything else, Connor just seemed to have that seamless way to make everything hot. She blushed, realizing Erin was still staring at her through her daydream.

“Where is it, Sarah?” The police detective asked, seeing the blush. Sarah ignored her and went back to chopping the onion. A grin crept on the other woman’s face as she asked teasingly, “Sarah Athena Reese, have you been seeing someone you haven’t told me about?”

“The recipe calls for tomatoes but I know you don’t care for them. Would you mind digging them out? Or I could just not add them?”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Her pseudo-sister continued to grin, knocking her shoulder into Sarah’s. The brunette didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Erin broke the silence, laughing as she did so. “Keep your secret boyfriend to yourself. But I’ll find out eventually.”

But Connor Rhodes wasn’t her boyfriend. They just slept together, had unbelievable sex, and…hung out sometimes after. (And more, but Sarah wasn’t willing to let herself see the relationship yet.) But Sarah knew if she tried to explain that to Erin, her pseudo-sister would ask a lot of questions and try to make her arrangement with Connor more than what it was. Because whatever she had with the double-certified surgeon was light, fun, and easy.

Even if it was easy to forget he wasn’t hers.

Until Robin Charles blew back in town a few weeks later because her mother was possibly going to be participating in a new clinical trial for a new cancer medication. And bringing with her an uncertainty that Sarah was sure hadn’t been there with Connor before. A feeling that was only reinforced when Ava Bekker came into the psych ward’s doctors’ lounge and started to rant to Sarah about how some kind of heart surgery that Connor had done with Robin’s advice.

“The surgery turned out alright…this time! But Robin Charles doesn’t even have a background in general surgery let alone CT. So what about the next surgery when it doesn’t work out so well because Rhodes trusted an epidemiologist and not another surgeon?”

When Sarah remained silent, the blonde winced as if she realized who she was talking to. “Oh…I’m sorry Reese, you probably don’t want to hear about your boyfriend being all chummy with his ex-girlfriend.”

Shaking her head, the third-year resident continued to pour her coffee. She set the coffee pot back in its place, “He’s not my boyfriend. He can be all chummy with whoever he wants.”

“Then what do you call two months ago, when I caught you two making out on the roof?” Ava asked with a furrowed brow. A large pull of her coffee and then the brunette responded nonchalantly, “Stress relief?”

Before her friend could comment or ask another question, Sarah was saved by her pager going off. Someone in the ED needed a psych consult. She set the cup down and started to make her way out of the lounge. “I gotta go,”

In the elevator, Sarah found herself thinking about Robin Charles. It wasn’t that Sarah didn’t like the epidemiologist. On the contrary, Sarah thought that given the chance she and Robin could’ve been really good friends and the other woman was always nice to her when they did interact.

But Robin Charles was also Connor’s last serious girlfriend. The one she was the rebound from. Sarah was a little jealous of the woman. She got to have Connor in a way the brunette didn’t And maybe that made her feel a little insecure too if she was being completely honest with herself. But did she have the right to be? She had told Ava Connor wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t her friend either.

Connor rubbed a towel down her body, his lips ghosting behind every spot the towel had been. The shower had been his idea. Sarah had been distant and wasn’t talking to him about what was bothering her. So he suggested a shower because that always helped him clear his head after a long day.

He finished drying her off with their bodies pressed together. Skin pressed to skin and his lips pressed to hers in a gentle meeting of their lips.

“Everything okay?” He questioned when he pulled back. He scanned her figure when she hummed in response. As if there was a physical reason for her quietness. But he found nothing but her freckles and soft skin.“It’s just usually I have to fight your laughter to keep you still when I do this and this time, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind,” she told him quietly, reaching for her underwear and bra. Instead of telling him how seeing him and Robin interacted today brought an uneasy pang to her heart. One that was most definitely not conducive to their relationship right now. Because Connor wasn’t hers. She had no claim, no reason to be jealous of the other woman.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded, accepting her answer for now while she slipped her underwear and bra on. She’d come to him when she was ready. With her undergarments on, he rested his hands on her waist as he traced circles into her skin.

“So…I have something I want to ask you,” Connor started, changing the subject while he nosed his way down her neck and back. Now, this earned him a small giggle that bubbled out of her mouth, “Don’t you think you should put on your boxers first?”

Then proving the point of her question, Sarah reached out and grabbed his dick. A small smirk split her lips when he cursed and bucked up into her. His length was already half hardening in her hand.

“You sure you want to start something? After you just put your underwear on?” He growled at her. A shiver went down her spine. That tone of voice always promised good things for her in his bed. But she still wanted to rile him up a little more. So giving him her most innocent look, she squeezed him and batted her eyes. He groaned low in his throat as she pumped him and whispered teasingly, “Me? Start something? I don’t know what you mean…”

He looked at her for a beat. Another bat of her eyes and the curly-haired brunette barely had time to catch the dark gleam in his blue eyes before he leaned down, his tongue colliding with hers as he pulled her into a bruising kiss. She moaned and started backing her way to his bedroom. He followed for half a step before he reached down to grab the back of her thighs and picked her up. Her squeals then her peals of laughter echoed in his ears as he carried her over his shoulder the rest of the way.

“So about what I wanted to ask you before you so kindly distracted me,” Connor called from his place in the bed while she brushed her teeth, sometime later in the night.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” She spat in the sink one last time. Then she smiled to herself and decided to forgo the floss for the night. From where she stood, she saw Connor roll his eyes at her, propping his head up with his hand. He was smirking at her, “I wouldn’t complain. I had you in my bed, naked and moaning in my ear... But back to what I wanted to ask you. Tomorrow night: I’m having dinner with my sister and Robin. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

A pang of that uneasy uncertainty went through her stomach as she made her way to the door and leaned against the frame. Because that was the difference between her and Robin Charles. Robin had been the girl Connor dated, been seen with, and had shown off at numerous events. She had even met his sister.

Sarah on the other hand was just the girl he slept with. Sure, it wasn’t all about the sex, she knew that. It was the way he cooked for her, did her laundry, and invited her to stay over.

If she was a normal booty call to him, he wouldn’t have done any of that. And they had hung out sometimes. Because that’s all she was to guys like Connor Rhodes. It wasn’t news to Sarah; it had been that way most of her adult life, (Parker had kind of seared that into her head when he asked to be exclusive and then she found out he had another girlfriend) but it still stung every time she was reminded of that.

(If only the jealousy and insecurity weren’t blinding her to the fact that Connor was essentially asking her on a date and testing the waters of pushing their relationship to the next level)

“Sarah?” Sarah blinked before realizing Connor had been calling her name. She shook her head. “Sorry, I was thinking about what I had going on tomorrow and I can’t. I have a family thing.”

She really did have other plans. Little Daniel’s birthday dinner with Justin, Olive, Erin, and Hank. It was a family dinner so she was expected to be there. She didn’t mind. Her pseudo-father always made the best food and she had already bought Danny a gift. Besides that, Hank wanted her to talk to Justin. He was a little worried about him and according to the other man, no one had Justin’s ear like she did.

“I didn’t know you had family in the city,” Connor commented as she made her way back to the bed. She shrugged her shoulders because technically she didn’t.

Her actual father hadn’t been seen in the city since she was a kid and Erin…Erin wasn’t really her sister. Sarah was just the girl left behind that Erin and Teddy got stuck with. When Erin made her deal with Hank at sixteen, she didn’t have to include her and Sarah not being separated as a stipulation. But she did.

Now here Sarah was, twenty-two years later, still in Chicago where she was left at the age of five.

When she was situated in bed, her legs around one of his, Connor wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “Night Sarah,”

“Night Connor,” But it’d be hours before Sarah would get to sleep. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest at her back as he slept, the uncertainty, insecurity, and jealousy kept her awake. But also guilt, because Robin Charles had been nothing but kind to her, and the only reason she was jealous and insecure, was her own damn fault because she let this arrangement go this far.

Because she had developed feelings for Connor Rhodes.

She wasn’t quite Connor’s friend, because friends didn’t stick their tongues down each other’s throats like they were prone to do with each other. She wasn’t his girlfriend even though he was wrapped around her like a very large space heater right now.

Did she even have the right to feel jealous when she really only had Connor without really having him?

“Do we really have to get up?” Sarah grumbled nuzzling deeper into Connor’s chest the next morning. Those negative feelings from the night before were nowhere to be found in her half-asleep state. She felt him chuckle and she groaned, wrapping her arms around his chest to keep him still. It was still dark outside.

“I think so. We both have to be at the hospital at eight and someone needs to make the coffee because you are very cranky without it. I’ve seen you.” A hand trailed down her back as he explained all of this in a gruff voice, that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with sleep, near her ear. She hummed, peering up at his alarm clock. Then when she saw the time, she grinned mischievously at him, “We could get up right now. Or we could stay in bed for as long as possible, get coffee on the way to work, and in exchange…”

She leaned in to whisper the rest in his ear, “…I will let you help me get undressed before I have to get dressed for the day.”

“Keep talking,” Connor murmured, his hand already slipping under her borrowed shirt to undo her bra with one hand. Sarah felt the garment go slack against her skin. “Because you know there is a big chunk of time between now and then. So what are we going to do with all that time on our hands after you’re undressed?”

“Well, that all depends on you.” She whispered back before she leaned in and her tongue played coyly with his for a moment as they kissed. When Sarah pulled away, he groaned and tried to chase her lips but she pushed back against his chest with a teasing smile. “And how’s that?”

“I’m letting you pick if I’m on top or bottom.”

“Interesting, what’s the difference between the two?” He asked amusedly, eyes dropping to watch as her hands undo a single button slowly. Then another and another and another. Till the shirt was open. Her unclasped bra fell loosely off of her shoulders and she let it drop on his stomach. His eyes darkened as he licked his lips at the swell of her breast being at his eye level. Her cheeks blushed a deep red. How could just a look from him have heat already rushing to her core?

“If I’m on bottom, you fuck me or if I’m on top, I fuck you.” The second the words were off of her lips, the surgeon surged up and kissed her. Then with those quick reflexes and surgeon hands, he had her pinned to the bed. Sarah giggled when she felt the skin of her back hit the sheets. Then she felt his hands interlocked with hers and were pinned above her head. Her giggles were stopped abruptly and moans of pleasure took their place.

“And if I wanted both?” He rasped lowly against her neck as he kissed his way down her neck. Then down her chest, biting softly at the swell of her breast he had been admiring. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. She cried out as she told him, “Depends on how fast we both-ooooh do that again please-come!”

“Foreplay?” He questioned with a grin as she arched up to him. He did as she requested and nipped at her other nipple gently and was rewarded with a loud moan.

She cried out again then moaned, “What-ohhh I love it when you tease me like this-what do you call this?”

He grinned and adjusted his body so his dick was against her heated core. Then he thrust once against the fabric of her boyshorts to tease her and she moaned again before he rasped in her ear, “Making sure you’re wet and slick enough for me to take you as slowly as I want. You all spread out like this, looking like a feast makes me want to take my time and savor making love to you.”

Sarah was so caught up in how he made her feel that she missed his words and only registered the heady tone in which he spoke… Physical moments like this made the feelings of uncertainty and insecurities disappear as if they never existed. (Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah knew hiding from her insecurities like this wasn’t good.)

They never actually made it to her being on top though because he made love to her until the sun was coming up and then they finally had to get dressed for the day.

It wasn’t until the curly-haired brunette ran into the epidemiologist later that day in the hospital cafeteria. The other woman stopped and talked to her for Sarah’s whole lunch break while they ate. And when they were finished, Robin Charles hugged her and said she wished she had more time to catch up with her.

Were they even supposed to catch up with each other? Sarah wondered dimly, in the self-deprecating part of her brain. They hadn’t been friends when Robin left. She had just been the epidemiologist’s psychiatrist and not a very good one at that; she hadn’t even been able to get Robin’s diagnosis right.

Those feelings of insecure and jealous came back and ate at her. And with that came the guilt, because Robin Charles was once again, being nothing but nice to her.

“Okay, you’ve been quiet all day yesterday and I ignored it because you said you were okay. But you’re still being quiet today and not to sound egotistical but it only seems like it’s around me. Because I saw you talking to Choi earlier and you were fine. So what’s going on? Did I do something?” Connor’s hand came to rest on her lower back as he followed her into the lounge after her shift was over.

As she gathered her stuff, Sarah cast a wary glance at her...Hell, she didn’t even know what to call him anymore. Because Connor Rhodes wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t her friend either. Friends did not know how you looked when you wanted to be fucked before disappearing together. They were just sleeping together.

No one even knew they were doing that (except Ava but that was because she caught them on the roof two months ago, passing a piece of gum between them as they made out like a couple of lovesick teenagers)

That uncertain feeling was back. But she tried to quash it as she faced the man in front of her. She wanted to go back to this morning. She wanted to go back and just stay in that warm bubble of his room, his arms. Never let it pop.

How could she explain that she was feeling jealous for no reason (in her head) Not to mention insecure too because she was no Robin Charles.

“Sarah?” Connor prompted again, in a soft voice. His hand trailed down her arm to hers, squeezing her fingers. Sarah’s gaze found his. His eyes, his piercing blue eyes that she could drown in, were soft and sad as he silently pleaded with her to just tell him what was wrong. She opened her mouth to explain somehow without it coming out that she was jealous of his ex-girlfriend. But then his phone lit up in his other hand as he was trying to put it away and the name on it said: ROBIN CHARLES.

Her own phone buzzed in her back pocket. She knew that was Justin. He said he would pick her up from work today since Olive had him already out to get Danny’s cake for his first birthday tonight.

She chose to take that as a sign that the universe was saying she shouldn’t tell him anything. So Sarah gave him a tight smile. “It’s nothing important. I’m just in my head right now. But I have to go, okay?”

Connor looked doubtful but nodded as he pulled her into a kiss. “See you tomorrow?”

Sarah shook her head as she tried to smile at him. It was hard when she knew this was probably their last kiss. “I have tomorrow off. But you have a nice time at your dinner with Robin.”

And that’s when she knew she had made a mistake. Maybe it was her tone of voice or the fact that she had only mentioned the epidemiologist and not his sister, but she could see it the moment the dots connected in his head. “Sarah-”

The third-year resident turned away from him to grab Danny’s birthday gift out of her locker. She didn’t let him finish his thought as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Connor. Have fun tonight,” she said over her shoulder before she darted out of the lounge before Connor could say anything else. Or catch her wrist like he tried to with the word, “Wait,” on his lips.

If only Sarah knew she’d make her way to Chicago Med the next day...in an ambulance...with a bullet wound in the side of her neck. All because her talk with Justin had been pushed back a day and her best friend hadn’t been falling back into old habits. He was trying to protect a woman.

If only Sarah knew how Connor reacted when he saw it was her on the gurney. How Ava constantly was pushing him back to the elevator before that...before he could see who it was. How she told him there was a mistake that he was paged because she had it. It was her case now.

If only Sarah knew how Connor almost fell to the floor if Jay and Will hadn’t been there to steady him. How Erin Lindsay looked from her unmoving body to Connor with suspicious eyes. If only...

Even before she closed the door to Justin’s car, her phone was buzzing. A quick glance told her it was Connor calling her. She ignored both it and the pointed look her best friend threw her way at the first red light they came to.

“That the secret boyfriend?” Justin asked, feigning a lightness. But Sarah rolled her eyes, “Did Erin talk to you?”

“She told me you’ve been seeing someone for the last few months and you hadn’t told her about him yet. She’s a little concerned that’s all. Especially when she learned neither Olive nor I knew about him either.”

“One: You’ve been busy with Daniel and Olive, and your job. Two: he’s not my boyfriend, we’re just sleeping together.”

“So what like a fuck buddy?” He asked, flicking on his turn signal. Though they looked the same on the surface, the heat that rose to her cheeks now was of embarrassment and not of pleasure like this morning.

“It’s not… like that.” Sarah sputtered a little. (It was like that and she knew that.) Her best friend glanced at her before he pulled out into the street. Justin huffed, “You just said he’s not your boyfriend. And I know he’s not your husband because I would’ve heard about that long before now from my dad. So fuck buddies.”

“Fine. But can we not refer to it like that? Please. It sounds so…raunchy and not in a good way..”

“Friends with Benefits then. But you don’t seem like the type to do no strings attached.” She wasn’t. Maybe that’s why she was having such a hard time with this…Robin’s sudden reappearance because despite her efforts, her heart was a string that was trying to attach itself to Connor. But he wasn’t hers to keep or get attached to.

“After Joey, I was so tired of dating. I just wanted some fun. Something easy and-” her phone buzzed twice in quick succession. A text from Connor. Sarah ignored it. If he and Robin were getting back together, she didn’t want to see the ‘Thanks for the last six months’ text right now. “He was fun.”

“He’s not anymore?” Justin asked.

She sighed. Her best friend never pulled punches with her, “No he is. I just…I screwed up and developed feelings for him. And I think he’s going to get back together with his last ex.”

“Okay I’m going to ask you a question and I don’t want to know the answer but I have a voice in my head asking the question. Are you being safe with him?”

Sarah felt her mouth drop open. “Did you seriously just ask me that? When we are on the way to your son’s birthday party?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Sarah.”

“You always choose the worst times to be an overprotective big brother.”

“Sarah,”

“Not to mention I am turning twenty-eight years old in four months and-”

“Sarah!” Justin said loudly.

“Yes,” the brunette huffed exasperatedly with a shake of her head, “Besides the fact that I’m on birth control, we use a condom every time. And before you ask, yes. We’re both clean too.”

That was one of the very first conversations they had with each other after the third time it happened. They moved from how they both were clean and had only been with one past ex in the last six months before they had started sleeping together very quickly. Then she broached the subject of protection. That was also the first time he asked her to stay.

Connor's labored breath was in her ear for a moment and then it disappeared as he slipped out of her and fell on his back next to her. Sarah lay there, trying to catch her breath. Then after a minute or two, she got up and started to look for her discarded clothes, with a sheet wrapped around her frame.

“So,” he drawled as watched her after he discarded the condom in the trash. The brunette looked up and caught his eyes dark and his pupils were still dilated with desire. Her cheeks flooded with heat. “Is there a reason why you start searching for your clothes immediately after and leave? I don’t bite…”

She raised an eyebrow at him, despite the heat in her cheeks. He grinned wolfishly at her before he amended, “Unless you ask me to.”

“I just figured you would want your bed to yourself…You actually want me to stay?”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

Sarah just blinked at him, her jeans hanging limply in her hands. So Connor reached out a hand to grab her wrist. He gave it a loose tug, in case she just didn’t want to stay, but something told him that wasn’t the case. “Come back to bed, Sarah.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, giving her wrist another loose tug. So Sarah folded her jeans and set them back on the floor. Then climbed back into Connor’s bed. His lips pressed to her forehead in a lingering kiss. “I’m going to clean myself up real quick. Do you want me to bring you back a wash rag to clean yourself up?”

“Um, sure?” No one had ever offered her a wash rag before. He nodded, then he pecked her lips and stood up, and made his way to the bathroom. (This might have also been where her love affair with his back muscles first started)

“Can I ask you a question?” Sarah asked when he came back. He nodded, handing her the rag. But not before saying, “After what we just did thirty minutes ago, you don’t have to ask, to ask me a question.”

“Oh, okay...I just…You don’t complain about wearing a condom. And I guess I’m wondering why?”

“Am I supposed to? It’s something you asked me to do when we sleep together. And I want you to feel secure and comfortable when we’re together.” He shrugged and noticed she wasn’t using the rag, “Did I make it hot? Too cold?”

“Other guys I’ve been with have had an issue with it.” She started to explain then glanced down at the rag, “Oh, um…no. I’m just…”

“Let me guess, these other guys that complain about wearing condoms, also don’t know the word aftercare?” He asked when she trailed off.

Avoiding his eyes, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man she had just slept with shaking his head in…disgust?

“The difference between boys and men,” he muttered more to himself than her. Then he moved his gaze to meet hers. “Do you mind if I do it?”

“Clean me up?” Sarah squeaked, cheeks reddening even though he had already seen all of her body. But somehow this felt more intimate. More vulnerable. “Connor, you really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. If you’ll let me.” his low raspy voice sent a thrill down her spine as he took the damp cloth from her, “Lay back for me baby. Let me take care of you.”

The term of endearment and that he used it to refer to her baffled her so much that she did as he asked. She lay back, curls spread across his pillow, and watched as he cleaned her up. Warmth unfurled in her stomach at his tender movements.

“More than I needed to know.” Justin’s voice broke her out of her thoughts of the past. The slight disgust in his voice made Sarah smirk.

“Well, that’s what you get for asking me a stupid question. ‘Are you being safe with him?’ Of course, I’m being safe!”

“I didn’t want to know and I never doubted you. But it was a voice in my head and Erin doesn’t know who this guy is. I didn’t even know there was a guy and neither did Olive. And I’m guessing my dad doesn’t know anything about this-”

“If he did he’d probably have me tailed just so he could run him through a background check and interrogate him on his intentions with me. Which is why you're not allowed to say anything to him about this.”

They pulled up to a stop sign and Justin turned to look at her. “With your track record in guys, maybe he should.”

“Look who’s talking. Do we want to go through your list of winners before Olive?” Sarah retorted sarcastically as they took off again.

“But really, is this guy at least decent to you?” Her pseudo-brother asked and the brunette thought about how Connor would measure up compared to her last three exes. How despite not being her boyfriend, he was the best one out of her exes. Then she told her best friend:

“Compared to Joey, Evan, and Parker, he’s a freaking Prince Charming.”

#Rheese #One Chicago #Chicago PD #Sarah Reese #Connor Rhodes #Erin Lindsay #Justin Voight #Voight Family Values #My writing

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valkyrie-night-103 · 2 years ago

Note

something clever about wine, clementines, and the end of the world as we know it?

Apologies this took so long to reply to!! This is my favourite, both in title and concept, and the revised summary ended up significantly longer than I thought, so I only wrote up part of the plot/outline!

As some of you may know, I absolutely love TLOU (The Last of Us, for those unaware). I played the game and I’m watching the series. If you’ve seen episode three of the show, you probably know where this is going. Sort-of Spoilers for TLOU Episode 3 if you’ve somehow not seen it yet.

If people want to hear more about how this story progresses, I would be thrilled to talk about it more! If anyone wants the next chunk of the summary, send an ask as per the ask game and I’ll gladly share the next part. I was really hoping someone would ask about this one, but I also want to gauge interest.

Disclaimer: I have never written this pairing before, or any of these characters, actually, so characterisation will likely leave something to be desired. Content warnings for mentioned character death, and all of the topics that come with post-apocalyptic AUs

Chuck Taylor doesn’t like people. People haven’t done him any good before the world went to shit, and they certainly won’t do anything to help him now. Except Trent, maybe, but he got himself killed like a moron, so Chuck doesn’t think that counts anymore. He is the reason that Chuck has any resources whatsoever. And his skeptical attitude definitely rubbed off on him, which is probably the only thing that has kept his dumb ass alive for this long.

This town has become a prison of his own making. In the early days, he and Trent had fortified this part of the neighbourhood as soon as everyone else left. Chuck wanted to go too, but he wasn’t going to leave his idiot of a best friend alone in the middle of the apocalypse. Trent clearly didn’t have the same sentiment when he accidentally blew himself up with one of his own traps during regular maintenance, so now he’s stuck living in his best friend’s childhood home, in the town he moved to for a college he dropped out of, completely on his own.

(It’s ironic, almost poetic, that when one of Trent’s half-baked apocalyptic disaster scenarios that he was always preparing to survive actually came to fruition, his own paranoia is what killed him. Or maybe he was tired of living with Chuck, who knows.)

He sighs, picking up his gun. It was Trent’s, and he always hated it when Chuck would borrow his stuff. It’s not like he can use it, so Chuck doubts he’ll mind too much. He definitely doesn’t ever think about how Trent would feel about the way things are now. He especially doesn’t think about it regularly.

He walks toward the edge of the trench that begins six feet from the fence. Four feet wide and eight feet deep, the last protective measure not including the fence. It had been back breaking work, especially when they weren’t sure if or when a horde could arrive. It paid off, it’s probably saved his life a hundred times over. The infected aren’t very smart, they fall right in and it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.

He aims, and pauses when he hears a voice. An actual human voice that isn’t his own.

“I’m not infected!” The man calls out, hands raised.

He’s wearing double denim despite the heat. Chuck assumes it used to be an acid-washed blue, but the dirt makes it rather unclear. He’s wearing reflective sunglasses, but one lens is only partially intact. His face is red and flushed, and Chuck holds tighter to the grip. An elevated temperature is the first sign of infection.

“I’m not infected.” He repeats, breathing heavily.

Chuck knows that Trent would smack him upside the head for even considering it, but he retrieves a ladder and helps him out of the pit. The man thanks him, but Chuck raises the gun again.

“Go. I’ve got traps everywhere, so retrace your steps. Go on.”

“I haven’t eaten in a week, I haven’t slept- I’m alone, I won’t last five seconds out there, if the infected don’t get me-“

“Not my problem.” Chuck says, gesturing with the barrel of the shotgun.

“Please.” He says, and Chuck sighs.

Chuck isn’t quite sure how they got here. He places the plate down in front of him before sitting at the other end of the table. It’s not much, but he suspects it’s the first thing that the poor guy has eaten since the outbreak that isn’t both canned and expired.

“So, what’s your name?” He asks, tucking in immediately.

“Chuck Taylor.” He says. As always, he braces for this guy to tell Chuck to stop fucking with him and ask for his real name.

“Like the shoe? Cool. I’m Orange, Orange Cassidy.” He asks, and Chuck is fighting the urge to snap that it’s none of his goddamn business where his name comes from when he hears the rest of his sentence.

“Very funny.”

“No, seriously. That’s my name.”

“Were your parents hippies or something?”

“Fuck you, man.” The man, Orange, says with a laugh. He’s heard that one before, but Chuck has an equally unusual name, so it’s funnier when coming from him.

TO BE CONTINUED

#aew #all elite wrestling #wrestling #chuck taylor #sexy chuckie t #trent beretta #orange cassidy #wrestling fic #aew ask game #fic ask game #wrestling fanfiction #chorange #wine and clementines

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tacthescribbler · 1 year ago

Text

Hit the like button at work, but wanted to reblog from home, where I could formulate a half-decent response. And I apologize, this will probably turn into a longer post. I promise my rambling will come full circle. I used to write damn near all the time in high school. Before I had a laptop, I carried notebooks. I even compartmentalized them in their own backpack. I wrote almost every day. I’d go home from school, do my homework, and then seemingly flip a switch into Writing Mode. Then, when I graduated, I left home for boot camp. I had assigned items that I was permitted to carry with me. One of those was a notebook, but I was only allowed to take training-related notes in it. For two and a half months, I did not write. I hardly had the brain capacity to think about my stories and characters.

(To be clear, I would not trade the experience for anything. But that’s a discussion for another time.) But the thing is: basic training is intended to change one’s brain. People go through psychological changes. The brain is physically changed, as well. New neural pathways are formed. Others are overwritten, so to speak. (I still don’t like wearing bracelets or earrings because of how ingrained certain uniform regulations are in my mind.)

I think that basic training changed my brain enough to change how I approach writing, and I haven’t yet been able to reconcile the person I was before boot camp with the person I was afterward. And I’ve changed even more since then, so... maybe it’s harder. I don’t know.

More than that, while I was still in the military, I started doing more and more professional, office-style writing. Emails and such. Not the creative prose that I wanted to be doing. In a way, I think this further separated me from writing what I wanted to write.

I tried to get back into my creative writing, and in an effort to push myself forward, I started reading information books. How-To’s on plot, character, dialogue, pacing, climax, denouement, and so on. My perfectionist brain fed on that material like a maggot growing fat on a corpse, and I suddenly started to fear my writing. I still do, in a way.

At this stage, I’ve not written reliably for more than 12 years. I want to write. I might even go so far as to say that I need to write.

When I first started talking to my current counselor, he had me write every day for the two weeks between our... second and third appointments, I think. Those writing sessions were their own little circles of hell. I felt like I was forcing the words, that everything I put to paper was contrived and clunky. But I wrote. Some days, it was a sentence. Other days, it was a few paragraphs. In the end, I had something I hated.

But despite how awful it felt to force the words out, I felt relieved and relaxed afterward. Like I’d done something healthy.

Steven Pressfield talks in his book “The War of Art” about the idea that every person has a calling (not necessarily in the religious sense). He says that every person has a thing that they feel internally called to do. For my sibling, it’s music. They’ve always been able to pick up a new instrument and learn it. They play everything by ear, and they don’t really do sheet music. Now, I’m paraphrasing here, but Pressfield talks about this calling being a self-fulfilling thing, and how a person’s calling is the thing they’ll do when they’re having a bad day. A runner doesn’t go home and sit on her ass. She hits the track. An artist will paint or draw. A cyclist will go get their bike. A person’s calling is what Jack London calls “self-remunerative” when he speaks of White Fang learning what it is to be a wolf.

For me, writing is that calling. And despite not writing for the last 12 years, I’ve had some realizations: We are allowed to write what we want. To write what makes us happy. The saying goes, “Write the story you want to read.”

Now, to loop back to the original series of posts: I’ve wanted to write the most boring shit for a while now. Maybe take a page from Jack London’s book (pun intended) and write about a creature or person as they move from one thing to the next. Jack London made it interesting, but I surely won’t. Still, if I can follow a creature from birth to death in the most boring way possible, maybe the dam will break and I’ll finally be able to write again.

Or... maybe I’ll never again be able to “flip the switch” on command, like I could in my childhood. One thing is for sure, I damn well want to try.

After all, I suspect many authors of the past intended no hidden meaning. We just attributed meaning in an effort to understand. But maybe there’s nothing to understand. Except the love of creation.

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

#can it tac #long post #sorry for the novel #maybe I should put this effort into writing something compelling #writing #writing problems #writing struggles

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huntinghags · 2 years ago

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6.Letters Never Read

[Campaign context: Adder has begun her adventures in Otari, a town not far from her village of Kelias. She took on a job that had her explore the old lighthouse, and upon returning it shed a ghostly green light that turned the dead loose from their graves. In a harrowing brawl, her group staved them off, but not before several guard were felled and several ghastly injuries were incurred. Her group of adventures have been summoned to a town hall meeting, likely to be asked further tasks, and her companions have spent most of the in between times talking of how much to charge for their services. Adder takes the time in the night after the conflict to reflect on the day, and her missing mentor’s teachings].

There was only one thing to be missed about Kelias, and that was the ring. That makeshift area, stumps set within a circle made by the dragging of feet, had been a sanctuary for Adder, who now found that the road and adventuring left little room for privacy. The call had been worse at night when the bustle of the day couldn’t drown it out into a dull hum. Adder would drink with Bakar and converse with him before he’d left, and it had always helped. In his absence, she’d kept the habit. She’d take two steins of ale to the ring and sit one upon the empty stump he’d left. She’d carry on, telling him of her day, as if he was still there. She was sure the villagers thought her mad for it, but they already thought plenty of other things about her, so what was one more?

There was no ring to retreat to, and Adder knew better than to carry on a conversation with less than a ghost around strangers, and so she’d taken up a new habit to replace the old. Since leaving Kelias, she’d written a letter each night. She supposed it was really a journal. The whispers had grown into a din of noise within her skull, and so she took out a fresh sheet of parchment. She stretched and tried to make herself comfortable, but the soreness of the day made it nearly impossible. She would write, nonetheless.

Bakar,

It is the cruelest twist of fate that I only truly start to understand your teachings now that you’ve been gone for three years. How often I scoffed, mocked, and ignored the wisdom you so patiently doled out to me. I wish I could do more than apologize on a piece of paper that you’ll never read. Maybe I’ll do it in person if I ever find your sorry ass, but we both know I’ve never been very good at owning up for my actions out loud. I always hoped you knew when I was sorry, all those times I knew I was wrong but was too proud to admit it. The apology would always be on the tip of my tongue, but I’d rather spit at your feet than say it.

Well, I’m getting mine now, aren’t I? I picked up adventuring, and you were right about it, it truly is sorry work. Muscles I didn’t even know I had hurt, and most of it is watching other people die or nearly die in gruesome ways. It isn’t at all like it’s told in stories and songs, none of them bother to mention how a leg looks when it’s been half chewed off, or how terrifying it is to watch someone succumb further and further to a poison you have no cure. They don’t tell you how young the guards and heroes are, or how they will be cowed by the first blood and then forever scarred by it. You told me, though, I just didn’t listen. I don’t have anything better to do, so I’m going to continue doing this. I guess when all you know is violence and magic, that’s all you can do. Maybe that’s why you never quit, and I won’t either, at least not until I find what became of you.

I’ve met quite a few new folks since I left my sleepy village, and I think you’d hate my traveling companions most of all. How ironic that I have been forced to be the responsible voice in this company that I now keep. They care only for money and are full of pride, speaking mostly of what they deserve for their deeds and of their worth. This town only seeks to survive, and while it has its fill of assholes, there are many kind souls that have offered us shelter and aid. It seems wrong to fleece them for their coin, at least to me. I can only hear your endless fucking nagging when they speak and it’s maddening. I bite my tongue, so I don’t sound like the crotchety old man that you were, but it bothers me all the same, so I suppose you get the last laugh. To seek glory is to seek death, that’s what you inscribed upon my blade. Funny that the more I use it, the more I see its meaning.

Farewell for now, Bakar. I hope wherever you are, you’re sitting in smugness knowing how miserable your terrible student is, but my guess is that you’re just as miserable, that was ever your talent.

Adder

Adder finished the letter and read it once over and let out a sigh that contained the remainder of her worries. This process was a form of venting, she could spill all she felt inside onto the paper and wash her hands of it. She walked to the fireplace and placed the paper within it, setting it ablaze with a small flame from her hand. The paper curled and burned, until it was ash. There was no use into holding onto letters written to a man that was probably dead. Tired and spent, Adder rolled into bed and fell asleep, the call retreating to whispers once more.

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americasass91 · 4 years ago

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The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18 asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @lllols @patzammit @quxxnxfhxll

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

#captain america #dark!steve rogers/reader #dark!steve rogers smut #model!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #this sweater wearing menace #shield throwing daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader

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myckicade · 3 years ago

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Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#coco x reader #coco x you #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #johnny coco cruz #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer.

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair.

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week. I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

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misnomera · 4 years ago

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On racial stereotyping of the Haans in TMA...

Right so as someone who is ethnically Chinese I have NO FUCKING clue how I didn’t notice this more distinctly in my initial binge of tma (going too fast and not paying closer attention to character names and descriptions, probably) but the Haan family storyline is, all horror elements aside, pretty fucked up in terms of racial representation re: stereotyping. This got long as hell, but please please please take a moment to read through if you’ve got time for it. thanks.

To start off, the Haans are one of the few characters in tma with an explicitly specified race and ethnicity—Chinese—and pretty much the only explicitly Chinese characters in tma, other than the mostly unimportant librarian (Zhang Xiaoling) from Beijing. But like, Haan isn’t even a properly Chinese surname, at least not in the way that it’s spelled in canon (it should be Han, one a. A quick google search tells me that Haan as a surname has...Dutch origins??).

Of course, that could be chalked up to shoddy anglicization processes within family histories, which certainly isn’t uncommon with immigrant families, so I’m not going to dwell on names too much (although I also find it interesting that John Haan’s name is so specifically and weirdly anglicized that he changed his own surname?? Hun Yung to John Haan is a very big leap of a name change and frankly not very believable. ANYWAY, this is not that important. I don’t expect Jonny, a white Englishman, to come up with perfectly unquestionable non-Cho-Chang-like Chinese names, though it certainly would be nice. Moving on).

What really bothers me about the Haans is how they almost exclusively and explicitly play into negative Chinese immigrant stereotypes. I don’t even feel like I need to say it because it’s like...it’s literally Right There, folks. John Haan (in ep 72) owns and operates a sketchy takeout restaurant. They’re all avatars of the Flesh—and John Haan is Specifically horrific and terrifying because he cooked his wife’s human meat and fed it to his unknowing customers. Does that remind you of any stereotypes which accuse Chinese people of consuming societally unacceptable and ethically questionable things like dog/cat/bat meat (which, if it’s not already crystal fucking clear, we don’t. do that.), which in turn characterize us as horrible unfeeling monsters? John Haan’s characterization feeds (haha, badum tss) directly into this harmful stereotype that have caused very real pain for Chinese people and East Asians in general.

And Jonny does nothing to address that from within his writing (and not out of it either). And, speaking on a more meta level, Jonny could’ve easily had these flesh avatars be individuals of any race (like, what’s Jared Hopworth’s ethnicity? Do we know? No? Well then). Conversely, he could’ve easily, easily had a Chinese person be an avatar of any other entity. So why did he have to chose specifically the Flesh?

(This is a rhetorical question. You know why. Racial stereotyping and invoking a fear of the other in an attempt to enhance horror, babey~)

On Tom Haan’s side, Jonny seems weirdly intent on having other characters repeatedly comment on his accent (or rather, lack thereof) in relation to his race. Think about how, in ep 30 (killing floor), the fact that Tom Haan had spoken a line to the statement giver in “perfect English” was an emphasized beat in that statement, and a beat that was supposed to be “chilling” and meant to signify to us that something was, quote-unquote, “not right” with Tom Haan. Implicitly, that’s saying that it was unexpected, not “normal”, and in this case even eerie, for someone who looks Chinese to have spoken in fluid, unbroken English. Mind you, the line itself was perfectly scary on its own (“you cannot stop the slaughter by closing the door”), so why did Jonny feel the need to note the accent in which it was spoken in? Why did Jonny HAVE to have that statement giver note, that he initially “wasn’t even sure how much English [Haan] spoke”?

This happens again in episode 72 with a Chinese man (and again, his ethnicity is Explicitly Noted) who we assume is also Tom Haan. This one is rather ironically funny and kind of painfully self aware, because the statement giver expresses surprise at Haan’s “crisp RP accent” and then immediately “felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English,” and subsequently admitted that thought was “low-key racist.” Like, from a writing perspective, this entire passage is roundabout, pointless, and says absolutely nothing helpful to enhance the horror genre experience for listeners (instead it just sounded like some sort of half-assed excuse so Jonny or other listeners could say “look! We’ve addressed the racism!” You didn’t. It just made me vaguely uncomfortable). And again, having other people comment on our accents/lack thereof while assuming we are foreign is a Very Real microaggression that east asians face on the daily. If Jonny needed some filler sentences for pacing he could’ve written about Literally anything else. So why point out, yet again, that the crazy murderous man was foreign and Chinese?

At this point, you might say, right, but yknow, it was just that the statement givers were kind of racist! It happens! Yeah sure, ok, that’s a passable in-universe explanation for descriptions of Tom Haan (though not John Haan, mind you), but the statement givers are fake made up people, and statement’s still written by Jonny, who absolutely has all the power to write overt discrimination out of his stories. And he does! Think about just how many minor (and major!!) characters are so, so carefully written as completely aracial, and do not have their ethnicity implicated at all in whatever horrors they may or may not be committing. Think about how many lgbtq+ characters have given statements, and have been in statements, without having faced direct forms of discrimination, or portrayed as embodying blatant stereotypes in their stories (though lgbtq+ rep in tma certainly has their own issues that I won’t go into here). Jonny can clearly write characters this way, and he can do it well. So why, why, am I being constantly, repeatedly reminded in-text of the fact that the Haans are East Asian, that they’re from China, that they’re Chinese immigrants, that they’re second-generation British Chinese or whatever the fuck, and that they’re also horrifying conduits for blood, gore, and general fucked-up-ness? It’s absolutely not something that is Needed for the stories to be an effective piece of horror; the only thing it does is perpetuate incredibly harmful and hurtful stereotypes.

And listen, I love tma to bits. It’s taken over my blog. I’ve really loved my interactions with the fandom. And I am consistently blown away by Jonny’s writing and how well he’s able to weave foreshadowing and plot into an incredibly complex collection of stories. But I absolutely Cannot stop thinking about the Haans because it’s just. It’s such a blatant display of racial stereotyping in writing. And I’ve certainly seen a few voices talking about it here and there, and I don’t know if I’m just not looking in the right places, but it certainly feels like something that is just straight up not on the radar for a lot of tma fans. And I’m disappointed about that.

Just, I don’t know. Take a look at those episodes again and do some of your own thinking about why these characters had to be specifically Chinese (answer: they didn’t.). And in general, PLEASE for the love of god turn a critical eye on character portrayals and descriptions whenever they are assigned specific races/ethnicities (Some examples that come to mind are Jude Perry, Annabelle Cane, and Diego Molina), because similar issues, to an extent, extend beyond the Haans, though I haven’t covered them here.

You shouldn’t need a POC to do point out these problems for you when they’re so glaringly There. But for those of you who really didn’t know, hope this was informative in some way. I’m tired, man. If some of the only significant Chinese characters you write are violent cannibalistic men with a perverted relationship with meat, just don’t do it. Please don’t do it.

EDIT: Since the making of this post Jonny has acknowledged and apologized for these portrayals on his twitter and in the Rusty Quill Operations Update, which went up September 2020. A long time coming, but better late than never. This of course doesn’t necessarily negate the harm done by Jonny’s writing, and doesn’t make me much less angry about it, but is appreciated nonetheless. For more on this topic there’s a lot of productive discussions happening in my “#tma crit” tag and in the notes of this post

#tma #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma 30 #tma 72 #tma crit #racism #sinophobia #racist stereotyping #tw cannibalism #tw violence #long post #tom haan #john haan

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squishneedsahero · 3 years ago

Text

Maybe It Isn’t all Bad

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 2 of 13

Word Count: 1714

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

It had been two months since you published your book, and it had taken off. Tons of people loved it and even more had read it. Because of this you were suddenly a popular public figure of Gotham, and of course like all other public figures you were invited to one of the many galas that happen in this city. You hated it. You, y/n l/n the nobody who lived in a shabby apartment and just happened to get lucky with your book. What you wouldn't give to go back to being a nobody so you could spend your Friday night watching Netflix alone on your couch.

Unfortunately you weren't sure how the snobby rich people,who thought they were better than everyone else, would take you rejecting their invitation the first of probably many. But this was a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne: play boy, billionaire, and one of the few people present that seems somewhat genuine even if you didn't think he had a single thought behind his eyes. So maybe it wasn't all bad cause all the rich people were donating to charity and Bruce usually made sure the money went somewhere good.

You had worn an elegant gown, preferring it to the ones that let your ass hang out the bottom. The dress was fabulously elegant and made you feel like a queen. You had paired it with your your highest high heels, stilettos that you could stab someone with if it came down to it. So far the night had been filled with pointless conversations and lots and lots of introductions, all while dancing a waltz.

Lets be honest you won't remember most of the new people you had met, you could've met the Queen of England and not have known it. You didn't remember not because you had been drinking, even if you had thought about it many times, but because there were so many people that wanted to get you and your new found popularity under their thumb and gain through you.

You had finally gotten a break by standing by the buffet table and eating the food they seemed to be letting go to waste. If nothing else you would singlehandedly make sure the food didn't get wasted. You kept trying to think of an excuse to go home, but so far couldn't think of anything. Your planning was interrupted when yet another person came up to you, except his face is somewhat familiar. "Hi," you say after you hurriedly swallow a bite of food.

"Hello, Miss (y/n) (l/n)," he begins, knowing your name but you not knowing his, "may I have this dance?" He asks, great another dance luckily you were used to being on your feet thanks to waitressing otherwise you'd be worried about them falling off with all this meaningless dancing. Why couldn't rich people be more fun with their dancing, most of them were white, playing some pop songs, and the Cupid Shuffle could only make things better.

"Yes, Mister..." you pause as you try to place him, you know you know him but you'd seen so many faces like that tonight that it was a blur.

"Wayne," He finishes for you.

"I'd love to dance with you Mr.Wayne," you lie through that smile that was plastered to your face. You offer your hand and wish desperately you had taken your chance to escape when you'd had it only moments before.

He takes the hand you offer to him and leads you out to the dance floor, waltzing yet again, at least you didn't have to lead cause you had no idea what you were doing. "My son read your book," he begins, trying to start up a friendly conversation, "he's keeps trying to convince me to read it."

"That's nice," you respond awkwardly, what were you supposed to do? Try to convince him to read it too? Hell no, you are not going to act like an airhead and promote yourself.

"He doesn't know that I've already read it," Bruce says. You laugh before you can stop yourself, you almost apologize but he laughs as well. "I enjoyed reading it, it was very well written." Maybe he did actually have real thoughts in his head unlike how the media portrayed him.

"Thank you," you say a slight blush making is way onto your cheeks. He was quite attractive after all and here he was complimenting you. The smile on your lips becomes more genuine as the two of you continue dancing, making light conversation, and surprisingly it was quite enjoyable.

Before you know it the party is over. And you'd spent almost half of it dancing with one man. "Thank you for the dance."

"It was my pleasure," he says, and you find yourself blushing for the millionth time that night. Maybe these parties weren't all bad, you'd found a friend you could have intelligent conversations with after all.

You find yourself invited to almost every gala that happens in the city over the next few months and every time Bruce is there the two of you spend most of the time dancing and talking with each other. The conversations between the two of you are pleasant, covering many topics, and most importantly they aren't meaningless like all the other conversations you were forced into at galas.

Bruce would get your opinion on things such as how the money he got for charity should be spent since you had been more recently living among the people he was trying to help. Like you weren't bad off by any means but you hadn't owned a car, relying on bus routes to get around the city and working 40+ hours a week to keep your head above water. You had been better off than many in Gotham but you had been closer to the poverty than Bruce had, even considering his night job. The fact that he genuinely cared and wanted your opinion amazed you. He was the first and probably only friend you made among the one percent at those parties.

Of course the two of you didn't only talk business, other more casual subjects came up. The two of you bonding over having dead parents, even if he was more traumatized and your wounds more recent. Then talking about school and how you had decided to skip college in order to pursue writing while he had been homeschooled then traveled the world instead of college, not that either of you were too old for college though. He was was 23-24, still young despite having adopted an 8 almost 9 year old and you were close to the same age as him.

The both of you being young, and single, did lead the two of you to have more than a friendship but that was after nearly a year of just talking at galas. Okay a year of just talking was a lie. It was probably only six months before the two of you found yourselves out in a garden and shared your first kiss. But it was an entire year before he finally asked you out, claiming it was a dare from Dick and to ease the pressure of the press.

You of course called him on those lies and pointed out the fact that there had not been a single other woman in his life since the two of you met. And said the only way you'd go out with him was if he'd, "just admit you like me." Needless to say he did.

That was part of the reason that he was so attracted to you. Despite what he knew about you from the one day he saved you from Joker, you were just unafraid to be yourself. You had never pretended or tried to pretend to fit in at the galas. You'd never been afraid to call him on his shit, even if it had risked your one friendship that made those galas bearable.

To your surprise when you had called him a dumbass for thinking it was acceptable to give a 9 year old unlimited access to the internet he laughed and said you were probably right. Then for some reason he thought it was a good idea to ask you for parenting advice and you told him that was a worse idea. You had less of an idea how to be a parent than he did, the only reason a 9 year old shouldn't have unlimited internet access was because he was a bit young to already get unrealistic expectations from porn. Mainly you had no idea, it just felt weird to turn a kid loose on the internet but then again you'd been a kid who ate mud and called it fun.

So, all the talking and asking opinions and just spending a ton of time together leads to Bruce asking you out. The press saw this coming from miles away and caught you both on your date, not that they didn't have pictures of the two of you hiding from people on a balcony. But an actual date?!? Amazing! All the internet fans were happy for you, the paparazzi loved you and would do anything to get pictures of the two of you.

The two of you became Gotham's it couple overnight but the best thing about it was that it was real. Both of you were blatantly honest, calling each other out when needed and defending each other at other moments. There were no secrets between the both of you and you wouldn't trade that for anything. It was amazing to you that you had finally found a man who saw you as his equal and if anything he was a man known for being a womanizer.

So that's how it all started, in the space of a year the two of you fell in love and were head over heels for each other. Dick played match maker every chance he got, since he adored you for some odd reason. And of course, when you finally met him Alfred approved of you and Bruce being together, the one person able to call him on his shit and have him listen. It was a miracle that Alfred had thought he'd never love to see.

#Batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x you #batmom #batmom reader #batfam x batmom #dick grayson #damian wayne

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vibraniumwing · 4 years ago

Text

my stars know about you.

a sam wilson x fem!reader blurb wherein sam finds the old videos the reader has when he was snapped away.

WARNING: a bit of angst and tfatws spoilers for those who haven't watched but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: ha yes hello i impulsively wrote this bcs my muse was so high all of a sudden and i have this monologue ready for it. listened to this playlist right here and wendy ft. john legend’s written in the stars <3 also, is this still a blurb ??

---

Sam had promised you he would clean around the house while you go on a fun little weekend with Sarah and the boys, wanting to give you more time to relax and be around his family; his lips churning up into a small yet giddy smile at the thought of the small velvet box hiding somewhere in your shared room that contained the necklace you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you could go out.

He was half-way done with the things hidden in your work drawer when he came across a flash drive that had a label written on it called visual diary. His brows furrowed lightly as walked to his side of the office, opening his laptop and plugged it in, opening the files to see multiple videos titled with dates, the first one from all the way back in 2018.

Sam shifted in his seat, clicking on that certain video only to be greeted by your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes, under eyes dark from the possible lack of sleep. His heart dropped at the distraught look on your face as you took a deep breath in before looking into the camera.

“hey sam, it’s me. it’s一 it’s been exactly five days since Nat called me about how you were one of the people who, unfortunately, got snapped into non-existence.”

The way you spoke caused goosebumps to form along his skin, realizing that these were probably videos you'd made five years ago, when the snap happened. Sam’s heart was shattered at how lost you looked from the other side of the screen, wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.

“I’m with Sarah right now, she’s sleeping in her room with Aj and Cass. She’s been strong, but you can see the worry in her eyes一 she’s holding up much better than I am though. I’ve been such a mess, I can’t look into the mirror without seeing… feeling you beside me. I miss you.”

Sam stopped the video, his own tears starting to choke him upon seeing the state that you and his younger sister have been. He knew that it was hard, after seeing Sarah struggle with the family business and keeping things together; seeing you wake up at night with cold sweat glistening on your skin as you jolted up from yet another nightmare of him not coming back.

He wanted to stop from diving deep into the videos but his curiosity was stronger. He scrolled through some more videos, randomly clicking on one.

This time, Sam was greeted with a somewhat cheery you, out on the hill you first confessed your attraction to him一 the same night he admitted that he loves you more than a friend, where everything started between the both of you.

“hey there, handsome. i surely hope you can recognize where i’m at right now, if not, then i guess i’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, finding your humor amusing despite how lackluster your tone was as you spoke into the camera. Sam reached up to trace your features that were present on his screen, remembering every single feature of yours, engraving it into the forefront of his mind.

“today’s the day we’re supposed to celebrate our first anniversary, sammy. we should’ve been in hawaii by now, swimming with the fishes or explore the beauty of that island. instead, i’m here, in my car alone on the hill where we first admitted our feelings for each other.”

Sam didn’t fail to notice how you were trying your best to hold back your tears, taking note of how your tongue poked the inside of your cheek一 a habit he noticed you would do whenever fighting strong emotions一 and he whispered a small, “Don’t hold your tears back, sweetheart.” and as if you heard him, you let out a small chuckle.

“if you were here right now, i know you would say something like, “don’t bottle those tears up, beautiful” or something along those lines. i want you to know that i’m trying, sam. but it’s hard, it’s been five long months since you’ve been gone and i don’t know how long i can last without hearing you say you love me or your obnoxious laughter that would resonate through the house.”

“I love you, baby.” was all that left Sam’s lips, tongue jutting out to dampen his lips as he listened to you speak, mind blank as too many thoughts about what he wants to say to you as of the moment are too much.

“i’ve told the stars about your laughter. it’s niche and cliche, i know, but mom told me to tell them all about the people i treasure the most whenever i can’t tell others about them.”

“i told them about how beautiful you are一 about how scintillating your eyes are that they could battle even the brightest star in the sky tonight. i let my stars know about how amazing of a chef you are even though you almost burnt my old apartment’s kitchen down because you forgot about the cake you tried so hard to bake.”

Sam cringed at the memory, nose scrunching up in disbelief that he could forget such a simple task; he spent the night apologizing and all you ever did was smile and lean in to give him a kiss in hopes to shut him up.

“i told my stars about how brilliant you are一 how your words are so deep even with the shortest sentences, about how you can easily captivate me and a bunch of others with the stories that you speak… about how much love you have for me and for everyone you care for. it never ceases to amaze me how you can stand up and fight for the people that you love.”

At this point, Sam was already in tears as you shared about how you spoke about him. He adored how your eyes were filled with that well-known fondness you have whenever you speak about something you love.

As the video ended, Sam was left to look at the reflection of himself on the screen, staring at his reflection as your words echoed in his mind. He always listened to you ramble on about how everyone’s destiny was written somewhere in the skies, their lives aligned like the constellations that shined bright in the nighttime.

Normally, he would brush it off, skeptic to that belief but as he tuned into your stories, he can’t help but believe that in what you were saying. Sam was about to play another video when he heard the familiar jangle of your keys in the front door.

Sam pulled out of his chair and raced over there to meet you, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug before you could even close the door. “Hello, beautiful.” he softly greeted, pulling away to place a light kiss on your temple. “How was your weekend away with Sarah and the boys?”

You chuckled softly at the sudden affection he was giving, dropping your duffel bag on the floor to wrap your arms around his torso, feeling how relaxed he was against you. “It was great! Could’ve been better if you were there to be with us.” you answered, reaching up to peck his lips a few times, making the latter smile. “What’s with the affection? Did you break something, Samuel? Wait一 were you crying?”

He shook his head, adamant in admitting that he was, he lifted you up easily as he took you over to your shared office, sitting back down on his office chair with you in his lap as he showed you the compilation of the videos, “I… I found the flash drive while cleaning and I got a little too curious and decided to see what was on it and well, turns out I got a bit more than what I expected.”

“I was going to show them to you one day, Sam.” you admitted, making yourself comfortable as you snuggled up to him, his arms laced around you securely. “But I wanted to make it a bit more… special since this was a very vulnerable time for me.” the softness in your voice made him curl a single digit under your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone for that long, baby girl.” Sam apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for leaving. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that you and his sister had to spend so many years without him. “I know you’ve told me multiple times that I shouldn’t say sorry, but I can’t help it. You’ve waited for so long.”

“And I’ll wait a million more if it meant I could be with you.” you cut him off, shifting slightly to make you face him completely. “You can go anywhere, anytime, for how long and I would wait for you to come back every single time. So please don’t feel guilty about it, love.” your hands holding the sides of his face as you start to pepper it with gentle kisses.

You smile at his peaceful expression, “My heart is in peace knowing that we’re written somewhere in the stars.” you say to him softly, squishing his cheeks in a playful manner, light laughter filling up the room.

Sam smiled, sealing the feather-like kisses with his lips on yours, capturing it for an intimate one that conveyed how much love he has for you, resting his forehead on yours right after. “You know that I love you, right Y/N?”

“I do and I love you so much more, Sam.”

---

TAGLIST: @https-bvcky @harrysweasleys @selenasprompts @weasleytwins-41 @anchoeritic @marvel-diaries @demirunner @barneswidow @lovecroftreads @punkrific @6r4cie @yougottalovefandoms @swiftssss

to those whose urls are in bold, i can't tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's in my main main masterlist <3

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fics #sam wilson drabble #sam wilson drabbles #sam wilson fluff #mcu #marvel x reader

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 4 years ago

Text

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass.

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control.

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention.

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area.

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all.

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside.

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself.

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him.

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong.

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud.

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks.

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top.

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest.

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask.

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders.

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?”

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

Tags: @jtargaryen18 @ozarkthedog @wi-deangirl77 @angrythingstarlight @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie @sweeterthanthis @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 years ago

Text

Parenthood

Summary: Being a parent is hard and exhausting, but being married to Joel makes it so much easier for Y/N after becoming a mother for the first time.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC)

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, etc.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31264607

Notes: Someone requested me to do a short one-shot for Joel and I know I've never written a Joel story directly, so this is my first. Technically I write a version of a character inspired by Joel for The Guest/Arcadia, BUT -- this is what I came up with. In case people didn't know Y/N means your name or you can insert any name you want. Thanks to anyone that reads it! And I also apologize for any potential errors, this was written rather fast and edited when I was really tired.

There it was again, that same incessant buzzing. Truthfully, Y/N should have been used to it by now. It had already been three months. It was the same time, every single night. Yet, when this time of night came, she never found herself ready. Drowsily, her eyes fluttered to an open. The room was still blurry while her tired eyes adjusted to the dark room around her. The only thing that lit up the room was the bright, red light from her alarm clock that she had set up. Three in the morning always came too fast.

Parenthood was the hardest thing she had ever experienced. Not that she didn’t love it. Hell, she loved every second of it, but you’re never prepared for how much work it truly takes when you have a baby. Everyone always warned her that it would kick her ass. Most of the time she thought it was a joke, but now she knew better. Then again, this wasn’t a normal world that she was living in. Maybe if things were ordinary and the world was like it used to be, things would be easier.

The fears of the infected were always lingering at the back of her mind. Not only that, but those that were trying to infiltrate the community was a repeating fear in her mind. There was never a dull moment in Jackson. The anxiety had always been there, but it just enhanced when she became a parent. Because then, you weren’t only thinking about yourself, but you were also thinking about the life of your child.

Finally mustering up enough strength, she turned her head into the pillow and let out a small groan. Sliding her palms out over the cool sheets beneath her, she pushed up with her strength and got herself into a seated position. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed caused a chill to fill her entire body. With the blankets and sheets wrapped around her on this cool fall night it had kept her nice and cozy. Without them, the briskness of the chilly Wyoming air had flooded in through the windows to her bedroom and she shuddered.

Curling her fingers around the edge of the bed, she dug them into the mattress and let out a yawn, “It’s my turn this time baby…”

Hearing nothing in return, she looked over her shoulder to see that her husband was missing from his side of the bed. Stretching out her hand toward his side of the bed, she felt the coolness of the sheets beside her showing that he had been gone for quite some time.

“Joel,” an undeniable grin tugged at the corners of her lips when she thought about her husband. There were no doubts in her mind where he was. It was where he was most nights. Even though they had set the alarm and she was always waking up, this was the same way most nights.

Getting up from the bed, she moved groggily through their dark bedroom making sure not to knock into anything until she managed to turn on the light. It may have been hard waking up at three in the morning for the feedings, but this was easily becoming her favorite time of the day. Quietly opening the bedroom door, she tip-toed through the hallway to try and stay quiet. A light filtered into the dark hallway just right outside the door of the baby’s room.

Coming to a pause, she stayed still in the hallway when she heard the faint sounds of Joel singing quietly and it made her heart full. Joel’s singing was something that had drawn her to him when she had first met him. On the outside Joel seemed like such a shy man. For him to sing, he really had to trust you at first, which of course blew her mind when she found out he wanted to be a singer when he was younger. Even though he was ridiculously charming, handsome and multi-talented, Joel had grown to become someone who was very self-conscious of himself. It was something she had been working on with him for quite some time. After helping him gain some confidence and getting him to open up to people, the walls he had worked so hard to build were slowly breaking down. Now he was giving guitar lessons to the folks in Jackson which was something Joel wouldn’t have done when she had first met him.

Dragging her feet, she stopped at the door to lean against the doorframe. The sight alone caused her heart to flutter inside of her chest. Joel was sitting in the corner of the room in the rocking chair that he had made himself. He was wearing his pajama pants with a burp cloth thrown over his shoulder. In his arms was their son. Joel’s eyes were locked on him with such love and adoration while he sang to him.

Awe flooded through her. It was a picture perfect sight. The two of her boys together reminded her all over again why she fought so hard for the life that she did. Having the two of them in her life made everything worth it. Every day she found herself swooning over her husband in a new way. Joel made it easy to love him. On the outside he appeared to be rough and tough, but he had the biggest heart of anyone she had ever known.

A few minutes she spent just watching the two of them together until Joel’s eyes finally lifted up from their son to see that she was observing. It drew a smile to tug at the corners of his lips, but he didn’t stop singing. Once she knew that Joel was aware she was there, she moved into the bedroom and stepped beside Joel to look down at their son. The sound of Joel’s voice was calming him to the point of falling asleep again. As Joel finished the song, their son was fast asleep.

“He’s beautiful,” she reached out to place her hand over Joel’s bare shoulder, squeezing firmly at it. Joel leaned his head against her arm cherishing the warmth of her close to him. Seeing their son in his arms was beautiful. It blew her mind that together they were able to make something so pure and perfect.

“That’s because he looks like his mama,” Joel insisted and the compliment was intensified by the drawl of his Texan accent. It made her smile, but her eyes were drawn back to their son. Joel cuddled him in closer to his chest and hummed before speaking up again. “Isn’t that right Brayden?”

“Well, I think he looks like his daddy,” she corrected him, her fingers trailing up the side of Joel’s neck and toward his thick graying hair. Caressing over his scalp caused Joel’s eyes to close tightly and a worn-out sigh escaped his throat. “How long have you been in here babe?”

“A few hours,” Joel answered clearing his throat as he nodded over toward the baby bottle that was on the dresser. “I reckon I may have fed him like a half hour earlier than we were supposed to, but he was getting fussy and I figured I’d give you a break.”

“Well that’s because he knows his daddy is always going to be there to pamper him,” she continued to stroke her fingers through Joel’s hair. It was unbelievable how good of a father Joel turned out to be. Even with being as busy as he was for the people of Jackson, he always made sure to be there for Brayden. Even though parenthood was exhausting, she was thankful that Joel was the person that she got to share it with. Overall, Joel was a phenomenal father and husband. Without him, she was certain that she would have driven herself crazy. “I love you so much, you know that?”

“I love you too,” Joel lifted his head to stare up at her with exhausted, hazel eyes. When his eyes connected with hers, everything in the world seemed to fall into place for her. Joel was everything she could ever want and more. Lowering down, her lips collided with his and she delicately kissed him. The coarse hairs from his short beard tickled at her face and it made her smile against the kiss. When Joel noticed her smiling, he softly chuckled against her lips and hummed. “What?”

“You’re just…so perfect,” she declared, sliding her palm down over the side of his chiseled face. Appreciating his features, she knew that Joel was everything she could ever dream of. When she first met Joel, everyone labeled him as the handsome, grumpy, closed off brother to Tommy. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would be married and have children with him, but here they were and she was so thankful for it.

“I think you may be a little biased,” Joel winked at her giving her another small peck against her lips before giving his attention back to their sleeping son in his arms.

“You should sleep sometimes you know. You work your ass off. What is Jackson going to do if you collapse from exhaustion?” she inquired, palming in over his muscular shoulders and over the planes of his upper back.

“If something was going to happen to me from sleep exhaustion, it would have already. In the last twenty years, it would have already happened with how much shit I’ve gone through,” Joel denied her claim with a snort. Pulling Brayden up closer to him, he pressed gentle kiss over his son’s forehead and sighed. “I think I’m actually used to not sleeping. In the past, I’d have so many nightmares that I hated sleeping. I got used to it. Now, I’m just afraid of going to sleep.”

“Why?” she frowned, lowering down to her knees beside the rocking chair and Joel looked to her with a saddened expression that made her chest hurt. Sliding her palm in over his thigh in a supportive caress, she tried to get him to open up to her in a calming way. “Joel?”

“Because everything is so…perfect,” Joel simply stated with a small shrug of his shoulders. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts. Biting at his bottom lip, he made it obvious that he was really having a hard time putting words together to make her understand. “My whole life, I’ve never had things go right, ever. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream or something bad is going to happen to Brayden.”

“Oh honey, you can’t think like that,” she tried to hush him and Joel tilted his head to the side, his eyes tearing over as he thought about everything that had happened in his life.

“You don’t understand. Since I’ve been a teenager things have just been going wrong. You know I had Sarah as a teenager. I was a stupid kid that wasn’t thinking things out. Ya know? At the time, I knew I had to get my shit together and give the best life I could to my baby girl. Then her mother took off on me and ran away. I tried giving her the best possible life I could, but…” Joel found himself getting caught up in his emotions when he thought about his late daughter.

“You did the best with what you had,” she insisted knowing that she had many discussions with Tommy about Joel's past with his daughter. Even Ellie had opened up to her about what she knew when it came to Joel’s daughter that he had lost so long ago. Her eyes fell to the broken watch that he still wore on his wrist and it broke her heart to know that these thoughts were wearing heavy on Joel.

“But I still lost her. No matter how hard I fought for her, it wasn’t good enough,” Joel countered and a single tear slid down the side of his face. Trying to attempt to open up to her why he was feeling this way was hard because even he knew that he was complicated. “Then for the next twenty years it was just nothing, but shit. I would try, but something was always happening. It wasn’t until I got here in Jackson and I met you that it felt like for once something was going right. I wondered if I had died back in Colorado because you…you were too good to be true.”

Damn, that hit her deep. Instead of saying anything, she reached out to slide her hand in over his arm giving him a supportive grasp.

“I was a broken mess and I was pretty much an adoptive father. I figured I would come to the town; give Ellie a life here and then that would be it. I accepted that life. Then the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on suddenly has eyes for me,” Joel chuckled thinking back to when he had first arrived in Jackson. It was a few months before the two of them really had a good conversation, but their chemistry was almost immediate. “I couldn’t believe my lucky stars that someone like you was interested in someone like me.”

“You know, you were the one that asked me out first,” she teased him, poking him playfully in the ribs and he laughed. Almost immediately, he looked to make sure that their playful teasing didn’t wake Brayden up. Adjusting their son in his arms, Joel looked to her again and shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, but you made it very clear that you liked me. I just had no game. So, I didn’t know if I was stupid or not. So when I asked you out I was actually feeling like a total moron on the inside because I figured you might say no and I was wrong the whole time. From the moment you said yes, I knew that you were the one,” Joel stammered, a hint of a smile pressing in over his handsome features when he thought back to her past with him. “They say when you know, you know. Well that’s what it was like with me. The moment I made you laugh and smile, I knew that you were the one that I was meant to be with. It was like a horse’s back kick, it hit me that hard.”

“Leave it to you to come up with that kind of comparison,” she winked watching his nose wrinkling in amusement.

“I just meant I knew you were everything I wanted and more. I didn’t understand why someone like you would wanna be with a fool like me,” Joel recalled his thoughts from the past and his eyes surveyed over the ring he had been able to find when they went scavenging through a nearby city. They were just lucky that they knew someone who could make him a wedding band in the town. Getting married was a surprise. One that Joel never thought he would experience again. With his past, he closed his heart off from ever getting that close to someone again. But then everything changed when he met Y/N. “Then you said yes to marrying me and everything felt right. I had you…I had Ellie…and then this beautiful boy comes into our lives. God, I almost reckon my heart stopped on the spot when you told me that you were pregnant.”

“Tommy told me he thinks you passed out,” she informed him with a tiny laugh knowing that she had told Joel when Tommy was in their home. It kind of just fell out of her lips when she couldn’t get Joel to focus at the time. He was always so busy with everything that it was hard to make him think only about one thing. “He always teases that he had to catch you.”

“Well, I think you just almost knocked me right outta my boots,” Joel snickered, acknowledging that it did shock him. “I just never thought that it would be possible for me to have something like this. Happiness. Every night I sit here and wonder how I got so lucky to have you here in my life. The both of you. Ellie too. I worry that I don’t deserve you or any of you.”

“Joel,” she whispered, lifting up enough to palm in over the side of his face to get him to look at her. Leading him to her, she pressed a tender kiss over his lips taking her time to appreciate the chills it would give her every time she kissed the man of her dreams. “We’re lucky to have you. I can’t think of someone else I would rather share this life with. You…you’ve made me believe in second chances. You’ve made me believe in something more.”

“I just have lost anyone I have ever cared for,” Joel confessed, his eyes tearing over as he spoke and he found it hard to look at her when he admitted that. “Everyone I have ever cared for has gotten hurt or left me. That’s why I’m in here every night. I’m just so afraid…”

“And you have every right to feel the way you do. Life has been so hard, but I can tell you this. Since you walked into my life…you were the only thing that has ever felt right. You brought Ellie into my life and that kid is a pleasure to be around. Then you gave me Brayden and between the three of you I know what happiness truly is,” she explained with a quiet breath knowing that she was getting emotional as well with everything he was telling her. “I think our small little family here is going to do everything we can to take care of each other. We’ll do whatever it takes, just like we always have. I just know that every day I wake up thanking the world that I have you here in it with me.”

“I love you, so much,” Joel blurt out, his hazel eyes exceedingly serious when he nodded. “I just want to be the best father and husband that I can be. I want to give you the closest thing to a real life that I can. I want all of you happy.”

“We are happy. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but the only time that little man is happy is when he is in your arms. He knows who is daddy is and he loves you…so much,” she promised, getting up from where she was kneeling so she could lean over to press a kiss against his temple. “If you’re worried, after tonight we should move his crib into our room until he’s old enough to be alone. That way you can feel safer knowing he is with us.”

“You’d be okay with that?” Joel asked for confirmation and she nodded slowly. Of course she was okay with that. Nothing about that would bother her. Carefully, Joel pulled himself up from the rocking chair and moved over to put Brayden back in his crib. Standing at the edge of the crib, his large fingers wrapped around the sides of it while he watched his son sleep. “I worry about things because when I was a father last time, I was young. Now I’m fucking old.”

“Joel,” she laughed, moving in behind him to wrap her arms around his muscular body. Taking advantage, she managed to press a kiss over his shoulder since he was slouched down enough for her to do so.

“I’m serious,” Joel chuckled while her right hand caressed over his the center of his bare torso, teasing her fingers through the dark hairs that covered his body. When she traced over the puckered flesh where his scar was, it made him look down at her fingers. After keeping Ellie safe and being able to have this family, all the scars on his body almost felt worth it. All that pain he went through was worth it to have the family that he now had. “I’m an old fart.”

“You are the only person I know that has the amount of energy that you do. I’m pretty sure you could outrun a lot of the kids in town here Joel. I don’t know how you do everything that you do, but your age is not a factor that I’m worried about,” she assured him, sliding in beside him and he loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulders while they stared down at their son. “Plus, I already know you’re an amazing father. That’s one thing I will never doubt.”

“I hope so,” Joel sighed pulling her in closer to him while they watched their son sleep. “I can make him another crib. I’ll go down to the basement so we’ll have two. I was carving him one of my horses, but I suppose I can stop to give us something more useful.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she knew that Joel’s workshop got moved to the basement as soon as they had their son together. This room was full of wooden sculptures before and half made acoustic guitars, but now it was their son’s bedroom. Still, some of Joel’s sculptures he had done helped lighten the room for their little boy. “Are you ready to get some sleep?”

“Just a little bit longer,” Joel sighed wanting to be with his son for a few more moments before they would go back to bed. Wrapping both of his arms around her, Joel squeezed her tight to him and kept her in his arms firmly. “You are the first person who has made feel like I’m not alone in a very long time Y/N. I hope you know that. You gave me the greatest gift of all time and that was a second chance at life. I love you and I always will.”

#Joel Miller #The Last of Us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #TLOU

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Note

Ik someone else already asked for like a delivery part (and honestly, that would be amazing. Like imagine the girls reacting to Baby Mix casually dropping it in their chat). But, also imagine Tom and Y/N haven’t released anything to the public and Perrie (my loose-lipped queen) let’s it spill over a virtual interview or something, how chaotic would that be????

Anyway, I truly loved your Baby Mix stories. You’re combining two of my favourite things so effortlessly. Thank you💜💜💜

Hello my love! So sorry for the long wait, I hope you don’t mind! Thank you for requesting this and being so patient with me❤️ I’m so glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix reader! stories🥰 I haven’t written a delivery part yet but I already had an idea of how I wanted to write this so...here ya go! Happy reading🤎🧸

💌.

Meet Aunty Pez

She would be the best aunty in the world, ugh🥺 Also I’m so sorry I haven’t been active, school has been keeping me busy, but hopefully it’ll ease up soon! Sending all my love to all of you💞

At 3:14am, on an early Monday morning, the bundle of joy that you and Tom have been waiting nine months for has finally arrived. After hours of enduring pain and labor, Amelia May Holland was born. Weighing at 7.5 lbs, she had the same bright chocolate colored eyes as her father, gorgeous brown hair, a mix of your and Tom’s nose, and thankfully she inherited your lips. She was a precious little thing, always cradled in the arms of either of her parents, since they both couldn’t believe she was finally in the real world with them.

The sun casted soft rays of light into the hospital room you and your little family occupied. The warm light added to the peaceful atmosphere you were all currently in. You were sat against the hospital bed, cradling Amelia in your arms, while you and Tom stared at her in fascination. You lean your head against Tom’s shoulder, eyes never leaving your baby girl, who’s nose momentarily scrunched up.

Softly chuckling, you glance at Tom, “Not even a day old and she’s already doing a habit of yours.” The gentle smile grows even wider on Tom’s lips, a sense of pride rushing through his veins.

“Well she’s definitely her father’s daughter.” He hums, his arm around your shoulder pulls you flush against his chest. Tom hides his face in the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses onto your skin trailing down to your shoulder, where he rests his chin.

“I can’t believe we made her. Isn’t she the most gorgeous baby in the world?” He speaks in a hushed voice, cautious of startling his newborn daughter awake. He gazes at Amelia with a fond expression on his face, large fingers gingerly reaching out to softly stroke the back of his baby’s hand. She’s only been here a few hours and she’s already wrapped him around her dainty little fingers. He would go to extreme measures to do anything for her and to make sure she lived the best life she can. She was to be treated like a princess in his eyes; because she was his princess and you’ve been bumped up to be his queen.

“She’s all we’ve ever wanted.” You turn to face Tom over your shoulder. The whole morning, ever since you gave birth, the two of you spent most of the time admiring Amelia and would burst into tears at how proud you were of each other. Not only had you both just made the most precious baby in the world, but this was a new chapter in your lives. A new experience of life with a stronger bond, full of love, and years of memories that’ll be looked back on in the future.

Tom shifts his gaze to you, the look in his eyes changing to adoration. He tenderly kisses your lips, repeating the actions a few more times before speaking. “Thank you so much for this. Thank you for being an amazing wife and giving me a family. I love you so, so, so, so, much. You have no idea.” He brushes his nose against yours, shutting his eyes, to savor the meaningful moment.

“I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else but you. You’re gonna be such an amazing dad.” You beam at him. Tom softly chuckles, leaning his forehead against your temple, “God, I hope.”

“You will, you’ll be the best one in her eyes. I already know it.” You reassure him, pecking the corner of his mouth. You turn your attention back to Amelia, who was still sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“So when should we tell everyone?” Tom asks, resting his chin on your shoulder again. You lean the back of your head against his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his arms.

“I think we should tell our family and friends first. I’m not ready to share her to the public yet, I want her to only be ours for now.” You quietly explain. You feel Tom smile against your skin.

“Of course, darling. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, that’s what we’ll go with.”

(Y/n)🌻: sent a photo

We thought Amelia might want to pop in and say hello to her favorite aunties for the first time!❤️

Perrie🦋: oh my goodness! Congratulations🥳🥳 I’m over the moon for the both of you!!

Oh she’s precious! Look at those cheeks!! I can’t wait to meet her🥺

Jade💜: OMG WE SHARE THE SAME NAME!!

I’m so happy for you and Tom!! You guys are going to be the most amazing parents in the world!❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Baby Amelia, you are the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen!!!😍 Babe, you and Tom have some really good genes👀

Congrats you two!! I’m so proud of you both❤️❤️❤️

Jesy💖: Thank god Amelia got (y/n)’s genes for her lips!!😂😂 I can’t imagine another loose-lipped Holland!

I’m so happy for you guys!! I can’t believe you’re already a mum, darling🥺 We love you so much and can’t wait to see you and Baby Amelia❤️

(Y/n)🌻: You guys🥺🥺 I can’t wait to see you all and get out of this hospital! This bed isn’t doing anything for my back😭

Perrie🦋: You must be so exhausted lovey, how are you doing? I hope everything went well during delivery!

(Y/n)🌻: Very painful, I felt like I was about to pass out omg😭 The doctor kept on telling me to push, I didn’t know if I was shitting myself or pushing the baby out😭

Tom’s been amazing the entire time. Bless him, I think I broke his hand while I was pushing :(

Jesy💖: Omg!! What was Tom’s reaction to childbirth?!!

(Y/n)🌻: If you thought he couldn’t get even paler, you thought wrong! He was as white as the walls in the room😭😭 He was a good sport through it all though!

Also, Amelia’s crying. I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you girls soon!! And good luck with the interview today, you guys are gonna smash it xx

Perrie🦋: Don’t worry about us! You’re officially on maternity leave now! We’ll send your regards for the interviewer❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Look at our baby mama! We love you❤️❤️❤️

Jade💜: Say hello to baby Amelia and that Aunty Jade loves her🥰

Jesy💖: ^Kiss ass, she’s not even a day old and the competition for best Aunty has already begun smh.

Bye darling, we’ll catch up with you soon❤️

You smiled at your screen before turning it off and placing it onto the table beside your bed. Tom was pacing the room, cradling Amelia against his chest. He was gently rocking her back and forth, alternating from shushing her to humming some sort of tune underneath his breath. You sat back and admired the curly headed boy that’s claimed your heart. Not only was he the love of your life but he was also the father of your child. Sure you guys were young, both in your late 20s, but the daddy role definitely fit Tom perfectly.

Tom must’ve felt your stare because he turned around and sent you a tired smile. He walked towards your bed and motioned for you to lay down. Using one had to cradle Amelia, he used the other to help you get comfy in the hospital bed. Still with one hand, he fixed your hair on the pillow so that it was away from your face. His large calloused hand cradled your jaw, “Get some sleep, darling. I know how tired you are.”

You pouted at him, “But what about Amelia?” He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll try and get her to sleep. You just close your pretty eyes and get some rest in.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep, then I’ll wake you up. Just please get some sleep, love. You haven’t taken a proper nap since this morning and I know you’re already close to knocking out.” He reasoned with pleading eyes. You sigh finally giving in, lazily nodding in response. Tom beams at you and leans down to place a tender kiss onto your lips.

“I love you both.” You mumble against his lips. He pecks your lips once more, “And we love you too, mummy.” The moment you closed your eyes, you were out like a light.

You managed to take a nap for about half an hour until you felt a few pats on your shoulder. You were immediately awake, turning your head to look for Amelia. You looked at the hospital bassinet, where you could see her sleeping peacefully.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Tom. He was sat beside your bed with his phone held in his hand watching something.

“I’m so sorry for waking you, but you should see this.” He apologized with a pitiful smile. He scoots closer to the bed so you can look at the screen. Your brows furrow together in question as you stare at Tom; it was the girls’ interview.

“Just watch.”

“Hello ladies! Thank you for joining me today!” The interviewer started. A round of “hellos” and waves were seen on the recorded Zoom session.

“Thank you for having us!” Leigh-Anne said.

“Yeah, it’s always a pleasure to be on your show, Zach.” Jade gushed. Zach made a show of flattery making them all laugh.

“I mean I guess I should start by asking how are all of you?”

Jesy was the first to answer, “I’d say we’re all doing pretty good, aren’t we girls? You know—just trying to get by especially with all that’s going on in the world.”

Perrie agreed, “Yeah, we’re lucky enough to be healthy and have the privilege to work. So I’d say we’re very blessed and making the best out of situation.”

“That’s great for you girls. AND speaking of making the best of the situation, thank you for giving us entertainment! I’ve been watching The Search and I’m absolutely obsessed.” Zach began, complimenting the show. He continued, “Although I did notice, that there’s only four of you at the moment, and in the show. How is it like to not have (y/n) around?”

Jesy pouted, the other girls having familiar reactions at the lack of your presence.

“As much as we miss her, it’s best for her and the baby to stay home and away from the public. When it comes to your career or family; family comes first, so it was totally understandable.” Jesy explained.

Jade chirped in, “Well, she’s not completely missing out. She’s had a few virtual appearances on the show and we’ve all been in contact, we always know what she’s up to.”

“How’s she doing? With the baby preparations and all?” Zach asked the girls. Their faces immediately brightened with joy, especially Perrie how squealed and clapped her hands in delight.

“Oh she’s doing wonderful, we were just texting her! She’s officially on maternity leave!” Perrie cheered. On the screen, Jesy eyed Perrie warily.

“Officially on maternity leave?”

Perrie smiled widely, “Yes, she is! She sent us a photo of the baby in our group chat and my goodness! Their baby is so cute, I just want to pinch her little cheeks!”

The three other girls’ eyes widened at the things coming out of Perrie’s mouth too stunned to say anything.

Zach squinted at Perrie, “Wait she’s already had the baby?”

“PERRIE!”

“Yeah, today actually.” The blonde answered proudly.

“PERRIE SHUT UP!”

“STOP TALKING!”

Perrie stopped, looking at the three girls offendedly, “What?”

“Oh my god, she did not.” Leigh-Anne facepalmed herself. Jade’s jaw was slack and Jesy’s eyes were wide with horror.

“Babe, do you know what you just did?” Jesy questioned Perrie, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in stress.

You paused the video, taking in what just happened.

Tom eyed you carefully, “Your phone’s been blowing up consistently. Pez even called me to apologize, she feels really bad (y/n).”

You frowned knowing that Perrie was most likely upset at herself. You’ve been friends with Perrie for years now. It was common knowledge amongst you and the girls that if something big and secretive were to happen, you were to never tell Perrie. Not that you all wanted to leave her out on propose, she just didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. When Perrie found things that made her happy or excited, she didn’t know how to contain her happiness. So it wasn’t completely a surprise to learn she’s told the world you and Tom were finally parents.

Tom noticed that you were still quiet, “Are you mad, darling?”

You shook your head, “No—no, I’m not mad at her. I know Perrie can get too excited sometimes.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Tom asked you, knowing that just an hour ago you said you wanted to keep Amelia away from the public. His hand reaches for yours, grasping it.

You tilted your head at the ceiling, “Yeah, I guess I am? I mean it’s not like she said Amelia’s name or anything. All she told them was that I gave birth already.” You paused and turned to look at Tom.

“Plus, I think she’s saved us the trouble of figuring out how to tell the world about Amelia.” You send him a smile. He reciprocates the action and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “We don’t have to tell them anything more. All they have to know is that you’ve given birth and our little princess is healthy. Also that we’re very happy. The rest of the details will only be for us. For now.”

“For now.” You confirmed squeezing his hand. You glanced at your phone and motioned for Tom to give it to you. Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on Perrie’s name, “I guess we should call her and thank her.”

You clicked on the FaceTime icon and not even a second later, Perrie immediately answered the call.

“I am so sorry.” She apologized, hand covering her face. You chuckle at her and shake your head, “We’re actually calling you to thank you Pez.”

Her face contorts into confusion, “What do you mean thank me? I just exposed the two of you during a live interview.”

Tom poked his head into frame, “Well one, you’ve announced that Amelia’s here already, so that’s one thing off our list. And two, you just saved me months worth of relief during interviews. Now that everyone knows we have a baby, I don’t need to be scared of accidentally slipping it out when I have to do promos!”

The blonde looked between both you and Tom I’m disbelief, “Are you kidding me? If I knew you two would’ve responded this way I wouldn’t have been spending the last hour beating myself up for it.”

You laughed smiling at her. Perrie beamed at the both of you, “For just delivering a baby, you look gorgeous hun. You’re glowing.”

“Aw thank you, lovey.” You look at Amelia from the corner of your eye. “Do you wanna see her?” Perrie eagerly nods at the camera. Tom takes the camera and rounds your bed to the bassinet. Aiming the camera above Amelia he said, “Amelia, meet Aunty Pez.”

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littlesniggy · 4 years ago

Text

Savior

Anon: IT‘S OPEN AGAIN! 🎉 im the Anon who asked for the Sakazuki request at the 100 followers event. Would you do a scenario where he takes female readers virginity ? I just can’t imagine him being the best choice for it but maybe you have a different take on it! Love your work so much and thank you!!! 💖

Sakazuki taking reader‘s virginity Anon here! I’d say maybe reader is not in a relationship with him but if you can’t come up with a scenario where this could be the case then can also be in a relationship. It’s up to you! Thank you so much !

Well...this is rather long and I apologize. I couldn't come up with a scenario where he would take reader's virginity without them being in a relationship except for this one. It has a lot of story in the beginning so feel free to skip to the dirty part if it's too long....anyways, I hope you like it and let me know!

Warning: 18+, nsfw, masturbation, superior x subordinate

Parining: Sakazuki x female reader

Word count: 4.1k

He had saved you when you were a child; kidnapped by pirates and to be sold off to god knows where. He, a Vice Admiral at the time, and his men caught the pirates off guard like a sudden storm, the outlaws not having anywhere to run. You watched him from afar, barking orders at his men and not paying you any attention. He scared you more than the pirates did, with his cold eyes and his unapproachable aura.

You joined the marines when you were old enough, wanting to stop piracy and the suffering pirates caused to innocent citizens. Oddly enough, Sakazuki became like a role model to you in his consequent behavior even though you had no interactions whatsoever. It was also no surprise to you when he was promoted to be an admiral. You admired him, wanting to climb the ranks like him and in the process became somewhat ruthless in your pursuit of pirates as well though not to the extend he was.

He came to the base you were stationed at, ordered by Sengoku to help catch the rising numbers of pirates sighted in this area. Apparently, he was not amused about it, thinking all of you had done a terrible job of letting this happen. First thing he did was give an angry speech to everyone, scolding you for the lack of effort in catching the pirates. The Vice Admiral’s got an even bigger scolding; everyone leaving the meeting room smaller than before.

You were called into his office a couple of days later. One of your superiors had recommended you to become Sakazuki’s assistant for the time he was here, not wanting to do it himself. You felt excited to be even thought of, wanting to see the admiral in action. So, you knocked on his door, waiting for him to call you in.

“Hello, Sir. I’m-“

“You’re late, marine.” His voice was harsh and annoyed, his eyes boring into yours, making you swallow. To say he was intimidating would’ve been an understatement – he was terrifying! You were taken back to more than ten years ago when you first saw him. You felt like a small child that did something wrong and was to be scolded by their parent.

“Sit down.” He ordered you, gesturing to the empty chair in front of the desk. You nodded, hurrying over and sitting down, not wanting to let him wait any longer. Your enthusiasm had dropped significantly; you weren’t even able to look him in the face, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You felt his eyes mustering you in irritation and it made you even more uncomfortable.

“I’ve heard you were the right one for the job but when I look at you I’m wondering what kind of marines work here when you’re the best they can offer as an assistant.” His words stabbed you like a knife in the heart. But he was right? The moment you entered the room you felt so nervous, not even a kid would take you seriously. Taking all your courage, you looked up and right at his face, feeling the need to look away immediately but pushing this urge away.

“Don’t you have anything to say, marine?” he got more irritated by your silence and you could understand; you were not making a good impression on him. “I’m sorry I was late, Sir. It won’t happen again.” You finally managed to say, trying to sound more confident than you actually felt. “That’s what to be expected of a marine. I don’t need any half-assed assistant who I can’t even rely on being punctual. Next time this happens you’ll be punished.” He said, meaning every word he said. You swallowed again, nodding at him. “Understood, Sir.”

From then on you spent a lot of time together. You were mostly ordered to run from A to B to collect reports or documents for him and being yelled at when you did the smallest mistakes. The first time you boarded a ship with Sakazuki, however, was the most exciting moment in your life so far. Over the last three weeks you’ve been his assistant for you have gotten used to him and somewhat could anticipate which mood he was in (most of the time not in a good one). Your admiration for him never really wavered; just the respect you had for this man grew even more.

“Y/n, is everything ready for departure?” he asked, standing at the bow of the marine ship, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Yes, Sir. Everything is set and we will leave any moment.” You informed him. Akainu simply nodded, turning around and walking towards a Vice Admiral, talking to him. While he was gone you were following your own train of thought. You never told him that he was the one who saved you and you doubted he actually remembered. You wouldn’t even know how to address it, never finding the right moment. You also doubted he actually cared enough to listen to what you had to tell him so you made the decision to not mention it at all. At least at the moment.

“The admiral wants the reports from today. Bring them to him.” Your Vice Admiral told you, handing you the reports his subordinates had written over the day. You nodded, making your way over to Sakazuki’s office. Cold wind blew inside the small room when you entered, closing the door behind you.

“Do you have the reports, Y/n?” he asked, not looking up from his desk. “Yes, Sir. They’re all here.” You replied, handing them over to your boss. He nodded, not acknowledging your presence any further. You were about to leave when his deep voice caught you off guard. “Have I told you to leave?” he asked, still not looking up. You were confused, stopping in your tracks. “No, Sir.”

“I want you to take a look at this an tell me if you find anything suspicious.” He said, holding a piece of paper up. You nodded, still confused but took it and sat on the other chair, starting to read. You felt his eyes on you, watching you while you read and it made you feel nervous. It was hard for you to concentrate, your eyes looking up at him from time to time, needing to find where you had left before and taking unnecessarily long. Of course, he noticed.

“Is there a reason why you stop reading all the time?” he wanted to know, a scowl on his face. “N-no, Sir. It’s just difficult to concentrate.” You mumbled, pressing your lips shut after realizing you said it out loud. The admiral raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?” he insisted. You shook your head, trying to let the topic drop. “It’s nothing, Sir.”

“I want to know why my assistant is getting distracted when I gave her an order. It must be something very important when it takes up your mind this much.” He narrowed his eyes and you knew you had to tell him something believable. But coming up with a lie was rather difficult with his intense stare so your only option was the truth. “I-it’s just a little distracting when you….look at me like this. It makes me feel nervous.” You admitted.

Sakazuki was silent for a moment, making the whole situation even more unnerving for you. Then he huffed, leaning back in his chair. You looked up at him again, his stare now even more intense than before and with a blush you lowered your gaze again. “If I make you nervous I suggest you get used to it.” He just said. “I guess so, Sir.” You mumbled, trying so hard to focus on the sheet in front of you.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw him get up from his chair and walk around the small room, waiting for you to finish reading. You felt his presence behind you, your body tensing unconsciously. You imagined his eyes wandering over you back up to your neck, creating small goosebumps on your skin. You wondered what he was thinking about. Your mind all of a sudden went crazy, the most bizarre scenarios played in your head and you lost your focus completely.

Your face as beet red at the thought of him possibly considering you attractive, him thinking about seducing you, him thinking about touching you – all those thoughts and you didn’t know if they were actually true. Your mind was playing tricks on you; the time you’ve spent together apparently had you develop feelings towards this man behind you and you caught yourself more often than not imagining being intimate with him.

There was this one time where you accidentally saw him shirtless in his office, after he had spilled something on his shirt (he denied it of course) and was changing into a new one. That night you had your first wet dream about him but you tried to play it down, telling yourself it was just the close proximity you two were sharing that naturally made you feel sexually attracted to him. But it never stopped. Soon, you actively fanaticized about him and you felt ashamed about it.

“Are you done, Y/n?” he brought you back to reality and you slowly shook your head no. “I-I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t seem to be able to concentrate. I think I might be too tired.” You said, hoping he believed you. You didn’t dare to turn around and look at him but you put the paper down on the desk in front of you, showing him that you were being honest. Akainu huffed. You heard footsteps coming closer to you until you saw his shoes next to your chair.

You looked up at him unsettled, anticipating his scolding.

“You seem awfully tense around me the for the past week. Is there something you need to tell me? If not, I suggest you get over it and take your job seriously. I don’t need someone who gets distracted so easily.” You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were thinking about him being naked and between your legs!

“I just wanted to say how thankful I am for getting this opportunity serving under you, Sir.” God! This sounded wrong! What if he thinks I want to have sex with him? Well, technically I do but he mustn’t know!

Sakazuki didn’t know what was going on in your head but just nodded. You were sure he didn’t believe you but also knew you wouldn’t tell him. So, he left it at that. “If you can’t do a better job tomorrow, I will replace you.”

You were ordered to stay on the ship today for whatever reason. The admiral was probably still not pleased with your performance yesterday that he wanted to punish you for it since he kind of knew how much you wanted to fight. Besides you there were a handful of other marines still on the ship but it was quiet over all. You had the order to organize the various reports in his office.

When you couldn’t find one you were sure you had seen yesterday you looked for it in his entire office. When you still couldn’t find it you thought that he might’ve taken it with him last night to his room. You were not allowed to enter his room but maybe this was an exception? Plus, he wasn’t here yet and it probably wouldn’t take long. But when it was gone, he would know that someone was in his office. But maybe he wouldn’t be too mad…

Before you knew it you had opened his door (surprisingly it wasn’t locked) and stepped inside his room. It was dark and you needed to turn on the lamp. The dim light barely illuminated the room but you could see enough to find your way around. On the nightstand you saw them – the five missing reports. You hurried over and picked them up, you were almost out the door when a thought hit you. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around, looking at his neatly made bed. It was huge.

You slowly walked back, stopping in front of it and contemplating with yourself. You should just leave and never come back here! But you really wanted to lay down in his bed – just once – and see how he was sleeping. Without thinking twice you laid down on his big bed on your stomach and pressed your face into his pillow, closing your eyes. It smelled like him; he had this distinct smell of musk and a hint of cologne that made your knees go weak every time you were close to him.

Unconsciously, you let your hand wander down and between your legs, pushing pat the restraints of your uniform pants and panties. You felt your sex getting wet the more you smelled the pillow, your finger starting to rub against your folds, spreading your slick on your cunt. You moaned into the pillow, imagining it being his hand stoking you, his weight pressing down on you and his hot breath tickling your neck.

Your fingers entered your core, moving in and out, imagining his thick dick taking you as he pressed your head into the pillow. Another moan, this time a little louder, when you entered a second finger, spreading them inside of you. You’ve never had sex but you liked to imagine what it would feel like. His dick going deeper and deeper, taking your virginity as he praised you how good you were making him feel.

You turned on your back, pulling down your pants, spreading your legs, and taking the pillow from under your head, pressing it to your face with one hand while the other one entered your core again, thrusting inside of you. Your mind was in a frenzy, now imagining how he would take you like this, his cold eyes looking down at you with this cold gaze. You shivered, your fingers thrusting in and out faster.

“What do you think you’re doing there, Y/n?” You stopped dead in your tracks, your body tensing at the sound of his voice. Why was he back yet? He wasn’t supposed to be back for at least another hour! You were frozen in place, not being able to move, not wanting to pull the pillow aside and look at the man that was standing in the room, watching you fuck yourself on your fingers in his bed.

“I asked you a question.” You could hear his footsteps coming closer and soon after the pillow on your face was being lifted, making you look at your superior. “Are you having fun?” he asked, his harsh eyes staring right at you. He’s gonna kill me! Your mind screamed. A huge lump had formed inside your throat, making it impossible for you to answer. He let the pillow fall next to you on the bed, his eyes not leaving your face.

“If you need to masturbate this badly, why don’t you do it in your own bed, Y/n?” You couldn’t reply, shock was written all over your face. His gaze now wandered down your body to where your fingers were still buried in your went cunt. You didn’t know what he was thinking, his face this unreadable mask. He didn’t sound mad but he didn’t sound pleased either. But maybe this was a good sign.

“Don’t you have to say anything to your defense? Nothing like ‘Oh, my bed is broken so I used yours, Sir’?” Your face turned red and you slowly pulled your fingers out, his eyes following the motion. “I…..” you started but didn’t know what to say. “I should throw you out just like this, making everybody see what you’ve been doing in here.” He mused.

“P-please, don’t do this.” You found your voice, horrified at the possibility of him going through with this thought. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“I-it was a mistake, Sir! I was just….I wasn’t thinking!” Akainu huffed and amusement, his eyes finding yours again. “Is that so. What made you think it was acceptable to masturbate in your superior’s bed? Does it give you some kind of kick?” You shook your head and were about to pull your pants up but his next words stopped you.

“Were you thinking about me while you fucked yourself on your fingers?” mortified, you looked at him. “Were you thinking about how it was me fucking you?” you didn’t know what to say, too horrified to answer. “What makes you think you could handle me, Y/n?” still, no answer.

Sakazuki tilted his head to the side, watching you in slight amusement. “Take the rest of your clothes off.” His order caught you off guard. “S-Sir?”

“Did you hear me stutter? I said, take the rest of your clothes off.” His tone was harsher, leaving no room to argue.

With shaky hands you sat up and unbuttoned your uniform blouse, revealing your bra which followed soon after. You weren’t sure what he wanted to do; maybe he would throw you out like this, completely naked and humiliated. But you weren’t prepared for what came next. The admiral unbuttoned his shirt as well, revealing his muscular chest and more of his tattoo. Your eyes grew wide in disbelief. What was going on.

“I take it if I fuck you now you’ll become more focused on your tasks again, right?” he asked while opening his pants, pulling out his still soft member. You were afraid of your eyes popping out at the sight, inching away from him by instinct. He kneeled down on the mattress, towering over you.

Your heart was hammering in your chest when he positioned himself between your legs, pulling you closer to him. His hand started stroking himself. You watched in amazement as his dick turned harder and harder until it laid heavy in his hand. “Let’s get it done and over with, shall we?” he made it sound like a transaction at a crowded supermarket where he just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“W-wait! I…You…you shouldn’t…” but he pressed a hand over your mouth, shutting you up. “What I should and shouldn’t do is none of your concern.” He positioned himself at your wet entrance, sliding his dick over your folds, making you mewl in response. He took his hand away and put it right next to your head, kneeling over you completely. When he was about to enter you, you inched away, looking at him scared.

“P-please….be gentle….” You pressed out, realizing that his dick was way bigger than you had imagined. It would hurt, you were sure of it. Akainu pulled you closer again; you could feel his thick mushroom head at your entrance again. “Please…! I….I’ve never had….I’ve never done it before…” you stuttered, averting your eyes. The admiral’s eyes narrowed in response, looking your body up and down again.

He didn’t answer, you only felt his weight press against your entrance, his dick slowly but surely sliding inside your body. Your whole body tensed up, pain filling your core as he pushed further and further. You grabbed his arm next to your head with you hand, clawing at his skin in discomfort. “S-Sir! Please…give me some time!” you pleaded, eyes tightly shut.

You could hear his slightly uneven breathing and felt his big member slowly fill your up. The stretch was more than uncomfortable and your body tried to move away from him with every new inch he added. You felt a hand come up to your breasts, playing with them and squeezing them. You opened your eyes a little, looking up at his stern face. You looked down, seeing your hips raised to meet his dick, ass hanging in the air. You saw his dick not even buried half inside of you and it made your heart skip a beat in fear. This was never going to fit completely!

He pulled out a little before moving back in. “Ungh!” you gasped, your grip on his arm tightening at the feeling. He repeated the movement, each time pushing in a little further. His hand moved down from your breast and between your legs, finding your clit and circling it lazily with his thumb. You legs twitched at the feeling and you wanted to close your legs but he wouldn’t let you; his hips were in your way so you had to let him do.

“S-sir…..this feels kind of good…” you panted, trying to concentrate on his thumb on your clit. “Just because it’s your first time. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be this kind.” His words made your stomach tingle inside. So, he at least cared a little about you. Your legs slowly wrapped around his hips as good as possible and you pulled him a little closer, looking him in the eyes while you did it.

Sakazuki grinned a little, starting to pick up his pace. His thrusts became deeper and deeper, filling you out more and more. His thumb pressed down in your clit, adding a little bit of heat, making you moan out in pleasure. “S-sir!” you panted, grabbing at his wrist. “You want me to stop playing with you clit?” he asked, about to pull his hand away. “N-no! Please, keep doing this!” you begged, looking at him desperately. “Then let go of my wrist.” He replied.

You let your hand lay next to your head while the other one was still grabbing the arm right next to your head. Akainu’s thrusts became harder, the fabric of his pants scratching at the back of your thighs and his heavy balls slapping against your ass. He was filling you out all the way, your cunt pressed flush against his pelvis.

Your moans got louder, the uncomfortable feeling already pushed to the back of your head thanks to his thumb on your clit, adding heat from time to time. You saw your tits wiggle at his thrusts, you back arched when he hit a special sweet spot inside of you. The admiral groaned above you, slamming his dick inside of you without mercy.

He put his hand that was next to your head on your hip and hold you in place, panting heavily while he fucked you without any hesitation. Since you needed a new source of support to grab on you reached over your head to head of the bed, grabbing the the mattress and clawing your fingers into it.

Sakazuki closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him with every thrust, ready to milk him. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make you cum, being it your first time but he was honestly more fixated on his own at the moment. His hips snapped back and forth, your moans filling his room your writhing body underneath his – it all was really appealing to the older male. He wouldn’t say it out loud but when he found you lying here on his bed with your legs spread he would’ve loved to take you at once but his self-control was stronger than his instincts.

“I…I think I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum, Sir!” you moaned, raising your hips more to meet his thrusts, your legs pressing him closer to you to feel him even deeper. He watched you trow your head back, your small body tensed underneath him before your muscles spasmed around his dick, clenching and unclenching as you came with a loud moan, your back arching, you tits bouncing a little.

The admiral huffed and groaned deeply, joining you in your orgasm soon after. Before he came he pulled out though, mind not clouded enough that he might forget it. His slick semen was covering your stomach, his hand stroking himself eagerly to let every drop of his seed come down on your body.

You were panting heavily, watching thick ribbons of cum cover your stomach. You reach out, collecting some of it on your finger and licking it up, tasting him on your tongue. It was salty and bitter, nothing like you expected but it was somewhat good nonetheless. You bit your lip at his stare, feeling so shameless and dirty to just taste his cum like some whore but you simply couldn’t help.

“Are you gonna be able to focus on your tasks from now on, Y/n?” he asked while he pulled out, inspecting the mess you two have made. Blushing you nodded shyly, pulling your legs to your body and closing them. “Good. We wouldn’t want this small incident to repeat itself, now would we?” you blushed even deeper at his smirk, knowing this probably wasn’t the last time. After all, this mission would take at least another month.

#one piece #op #op x reader #sakazuki #akainu #op sakazuki #sakazuki x reader #Akainu x reader #op imagine #op scenario #Akainu imagine #ns.fw #sm.ut #sorry not sorry

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