#here's a set that's been sitting in my drafts almost a year
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pillow talk
in which spencer reid chooses a very odd time to reveal an anecdote from his past to fem!reader
18+ (fluff, extremely suggestive) warnings/tags: fingering but nothing graphic whatsoever, it's basically fade to black sex, discussions of spencer's gsw from season 5, medical talk (and inaccuracies), spencer is a sarcastic little shit a/n: found this super random little thing in my drafts and it was done and i think it's silly and cute so i'm posting it! 600 words, short n sweet!
“You got shot in the knee?”
It’s perhaps said too loudly for the setting—tucked into Spencer’s bed in the late hours of the night when up until this point the conversation had been nothing but murmured stories and quiet giggles. And before that, well—before that there hadn’t been much conversation at all.
Still you can’t find it within yourself to apologize as you sit up, holding the top sheet to your chest and looking down at Spencer incredulously. His eyebrows raise like he’s surprised by your reaction.
“Thigh, technically. And it was years ago. Come back.”
You huff but allow yourself to be pulled back down, head on his shoulder as his hand finds its place stroking your hip once more.
“How have you never told me that?”
“You never noticed the multiple incision scars on my leg?”
“What? No! Can I look now?”
“You won’t be able to see them. It’s too dark.”
You angle your head toward him, and he does the same, tilting his down until your noses almost brush.
“So turn the light on.”
“If I turn the light on I’ll get distracted.”
“Distracted by what?” You ask, realizing what he means and voice quickly fading even as you finish the sentence. He chuckles and kisses your head.
“I’ll show it to you in the morning. Come here.”
“I am here,” you grumble. He hums, leaning down further to try and kiss you.
“Closer.”
So you scoot up the mattress and roll onto your side, pressed right against him, to meet him halfway in a sweet kiss.
“You’re kind of spoiled,” you laugh against his lips as he begins pushing the sheet from your body.
“You have to be nice to me. I got shot, remember?”
“Right. And how long ago was this, approximately?”
“It was 19 days before my 28th birthday.”
So much for approximations.
“Aw. You got shot for your 28th birthday?”
It’s his turn to laugh into the kiss as he carefully rolls over you but recovers quickly, assuming a deadpan delivery.
“Yeah. And it was really bad.”
“Sexy,” you murmur as he kisses down your jaw. “Tell me more.”
“Shots to the leg can be life-threatening if the femoral artery is nicked. Thankfully the bullet missed mine. You’re welcome.”
Your heart skips with a split second of true anxiety, but you snort at his cavalier attitude.
“Yeah? This is really working for me.”
He lowers his voice to the one he uses in more intimate contexts and you giggle as he explains his gunshot wound to you like it’s dirty talk.
“The bullet went in through my rectus femoris…” now uninhibited by the sheet, he finds the spot on your thigh and pinches lightly, “and came out clean through my semitendinosis muscle.”
“Clean? No bone fragments?”
“Nope. The doctors said I was extremely lucky it didn’t splinter my femur but it completely destroyed my muscles. I had to do physical therapy for a year and a half and I had a cane for months.”
“That’s kind of hot,” you breathe, losing commitment to the bit as his kisses get lower and his hand creeps higher.
“Wait until you hear about the mid-surgery aortic clamping and ligature complications. You’ll love this—I was awake the whole time.”
A soft moan slips from between your parted lips and your brows pinch.
“Spencer—”
“What?” He murmurs. “Me getting shot in the leg isn’t sexy anymore?”
You manage something between a breathy laugh and a mewl as your back arches.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
He hums against your throat.
“Good luck. You’d be far from the first to try.”
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfic
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I Was Heavenstruck
Summary - Wanda takes a liking for a young coffee shop worker. The only issue is, Wanda’s married. word count: 4.7k
Warnings - cheating, mommy wanda, age gap relationship, oral, begging, fighting, obsessed wanda, dom!sub undertones, angst
AN - milf wanda milf wanda milf wanda - I suppose I should post this rather than hiding all my writings in my drafts. Literally have like 3 currently held hostage begging to be let out. Part 2 here
18+ minors/men dni
Coffee shops have always been one of your favorite places. Luckily for you, your little college town had the cutest one. You’d applied nearly the second you’d gotten settled. Now you were happily on your third year of working there. You loved the busy work. It kept your mind occupied and distracted as you could focus on the coffee and making the customers happy. Recently, you found yourself getting slightly distracted at work. There was a woman who came in every morning at the same time. She would order the same cappuccino and chocolate croissant and sit at one of the corner tables while she caught up on emails. Lately, she had begun to get a little chatty. She would stop at the pickup spot, leaning over the counter as she would laugh and ask you about your day. The amount of darlings and sweethearts she used in each sentence never failed to make you blush. While she was older something pulled you towards her. You didn’t notice a ring on her finger. You found yourself quickly falling for her. Now, after two months of the same back and forth you needed more. Your hand shook as you wrote on a napkin your phone number. You placed it on the little dish visible next to the mug. You passed the dish over to her with a slightly shaky hand and a dark blush on your face. Her eyes glistened and riddled with confusion at your nervousness. She hadn’t seen your little note yet.
“Sweetheart, are you feeling okay? Maybe you should take a break. Come sit with me?” She offered as she set the dish down and reached to your arm. You shook your head politely declining. As much as you would love to sit with her, you couldn’t just leave what you were doing. There were other orders needed. She nodded and looked down at her mug as she went to pick it back up. It was her turn to blush as she noticed the note. She hummed a little ‘oh’ of contentment and understanding before hurrying to her typical table.
She was sitting there grinning to herself as she sipped her coffee. She pulled out her phone and you did your best not to stare as you tried to keep occupied. When you felt a buzz from your phone you glanced up at Wanda and your face quickly turned red as you locked eyes. Quickly, you looked away and pulled out your phone to see the notification. It’s from a new number with a simple text. “Hey <3”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
After three days of spending much longer than you would care to admit texting you finally worked up the courage to ask her out. From there you’d decided on sandwiches and a walk in the park after your shift on Friday. Nervous as ever you’d woken up much earlier than anticipated but spent the entire morning anxiously getting ready for work. You did your hair in a half-up half-down look with two pieces in the front. You then did a simple makeup look. You got dressed before heading to work. Watching the time like a hawk, just on cue Wanda came in. She walked to the counter and ordered her usual drink but disregarded the croissant.
Your smile when you saw her had been apparent. She seemed almost as nervous as you as she made simple small talk as you made her coffee. When you passed it to her she smiled and winked before heading to her table. By the time she’d come in you’d have half an hour left of your shift. She waited patiently as she read a book, glancing up at you every once in a while. When you finished your shift she seemed to be lost in her book. You disappeared into the bathroom to put on a bit more of a casual appearance, changing your shirt and stuffing your old one into your purse. Looking into the mirror you took a few deep breaths to gain confidence before walking towards Wanda. She hadn’t even noticed you approaching her until you carefully settled your fingers on her book, pressing it into her lap softly.
“Ready?” You smiled down at her before pulling your bottom lip into your mouth with a nervous giggle. She nodded excitedly and shut her book, putting it into her bag before standing up.
“Ready.” She hummed and looked down at you now. She stood just a few inches taller than you which always made you blush. Her hand reached down and held yours confidently as if they were meant to be that way. She then softly tugged you out of the cafe and outside. Once outside she smiled down at you. “Where to?” You smiled and led her to your favorite sandwich shop. The conversation flowed easily as she confidently led you around. Anytime you would move too slowly a soft squeeze would be applied to your hand as a reminder, causing you to hurry next to her side again. The two of you walked closely, arms brushing every once in a while. The touch barrier is typically broken after several dates have been broken almost instantly with Wanda’s constant desire to be close to you. You didn’t mind it though. Her closeness and gentle grazes and touches made you feel comfortable as you moved down the busy streets. Eventually, you made your way to the park. She led you to a blanket with a small picnic basket and a bouquet on top. How she had set this up without you knowing and had nothing happen to it surprised you. You grinned excitedly as she handed you the fresh pink tulips. You practically squeezed with excitement and wrapped your arms around her engulfing her in a hug. She pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as you spoke. The action causes you to stutter slightly.
“I’ve never been given flowers before.” You muttered softly and she smiled at you before wrinkling her eyebrows in confusion.
“A pretty girl like you deserves flowers. What a shame. I’ll just have to fulfill that desire for you now.” She said with a little wink as she sat down. She motioned next to her for you to sit and you obliged, setting the flowers next to you. “Any other desires you need to be fulfilled, pretty girl?” She asked with a small smirk on her face. You blushed a bright shade and quickly looked away from her gaze. Flustered, you reached for the sandwiches and passed her hers. She grabbed the picnic basket and opened it. Inside she pulled out some fresh strawberries she had sliced up, a small container of veggies and hummus, and a bottle of wine with two glasses. You giggled when you saw the wine and bit your bottom lip slightly.
“Wanda is like barely noon.” You teased her for her drink of choice. You’d just barely turned 21 and despite how many college kids behaved you rarely drank underage. It had all been very new to you. She just chuckled and poured two small glasses, passing one towards you. You two fell into a simple conversation as you ate happily. Eventually, somehow you ended up lying, looking up at the clouds with your head in Wanda’s lap. Her fingers tangled delicately through your hair as she relaxed in the closeness. From an outside perspective, you two were moving quite quickly. But in reality, this was months of pining and small talk. Finally, you two were able to be close and together. When Wanda’s phone rang for the third time in a row neither of you could ignore it anymore. You reached over and grabbed it for her, passing it to her. You tried not to be nosy and avoided looking at the screen to see who was calling. She declined the call and set the phone to the side. You thought for a second before looking up at her, deciding to ask.
“Who’s in such a need for your attention?” You asked as you took her hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair into your own hands. Softly you played with her fingers, directing your attention to the clouds.
“Other than you? Nobody that deserves it.” She stated simply as she smiled down at you. You smiled at the answer before sitting up and flipping around to face her. You kicked your legs over hers carefully draping them over her lap. Her hands rested on your legs with a smile.
“Hmm.” You thought out loud as you leaned in a little bit. “I want you to tell me something.” You stated as you reached up to her hands with one of yours.
“Mmhm.” She hummed in response, causing you to continue.
“I want you to tell me a secret. Something no one else knows.” You said as a matter of fact. She chuckled at you and raised one of her eyebrows.
“No one else, huh.” She questioned as she leaned in a tiny bit. You nodded in response as you awaited her answer. “I want to kiss you right now.” She replied in a little whisper as she glanced down at your lips. You wasted no time as you quickly closed the gap between you. She immediately kissed back as one of her hands moved to your waist and the other settled on the back of your head. It was gentle and sweet. Delicate almost. She didn’t want to spook you too much. You weren’t exactly satisfied with her softness. When she pulled away you glanced back and forth between her lips and her eyes.
“Wanna know my secret?” You asked, desperation heard through your voice. She just nodded as the scene unfolded in front of her. Carefully you made your way to straddling her lap. Her breath hitched in her throat as it was finally your turn to fluster her. “I want you to kiss me, kiss me, Wanda.” You stated as your finger pressed into the center of her chest softly. She leaned in to kiss you again. This time it was real. It was passionate and deep and everything you could ask for. Her hands grabbed at your hips as she pulled you closer, your body’s flush. Her tongue swooped against your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged happily as your hips ground softly against her. When you two eventually pulled away you became suddenly very aware of your public presence. You blushed red as you glanced around before hiding your face in the crook of her neck. She held you close as her hand found a slow pattern tracing up and down your back.
The next few days were electric. Then weeks passed and you continued strong. You’d hit the three month mark of your first date last Friday and you just felt more encapsulated with Wanda's aura than ever before. Sometimes after your shift ends you two would walk around the shops that line the street. Other times it was late and you just needed a break from the textbooks. You would end up tangled up in the backseat of her car like a high school couple hiding from the world. Your favorites have been when she shows up for her usual at work. Several minutes after she’s served, you take a ‘break’ and disappear off into the bathroom for hidden kisses. Never once have you gone all the way though. And never once has the conversation of going to either of your houses come up: Until today.
When Wanda came in for her usual you saw her and a big smile grew across your face at the sight of her. It quickly faded as you noticed her discomfort. You frowned in confusion as you saw the man surprisingly close to her. His hand rested on her back as they quietly discussed their orders. Wanda looked quite uncomfortable but you didn’t notice as you were trying to figure out who the man with her was. You knew you recognized him but weren’t sure where from. When he came to order you immediately realized.
“We’ll take a cappuccino and,” he started but you quickly cut him off.
“Vision?” You asked confused before gasping. “Vision. No way.” You exclaimed. Wanda’s confusion was evident as you two shared shocked expressions and surprised laughter.
“Wow! Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Wow. Wanda!” He exclaimed as he looked down at her. “Our families were quite close when we were young! They still are but after college started I kinda disappeared into my own world.” He said as he shook his head. “We practically grew up together. Well, she is several years younger than me but you know.” He teased slightly before looking back at you. “This is my wife, Wanda.” He smiled. The words hit you heavily and suddenly you noticed all of Wanda’s discomfort. She was married. Your smile faded and you heard the blood rushing in your ears. You covered it well as he happily carried on.
“Yeah, uh, we’ve met sorta.” You said with a squinted look. “She’s quite the regular here.” You said with a faint laugh.
“We have to catch up soon.” He said suddenly and you just nodded sheepishly. “Friday. We’re having a little party. It’d be great to have you. Bring a plus one if you’d like? Boyfriend? Friend? Whatever.” You just nodded in agreement before smiling lightly. You scribbled down your phone number before sliding it to him and mumbling about getting their orders. They ordered it to go before leaving. The look on Wanda’s face stuck with you. How could she not have mentioned she was married? What was she doing with you?
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Friday came quicker than you’d expected. Throughout the rest of the week, you’d avoided Wanda: Her calls, her desperate texts, even your typical work hours. What you couldn’t stay away from was Friday. But you had a plan. Natasha. Your best friend. You’d asked her for a favor and she was quick to agree. Vision had approved you bringing a guest so there you did. You had a bottle of wine in your hand. You both were dressed quite nicely. Natasha in a tight red dress that complimented her hair nicely and accentuated her chest and ass. You were wearing clothes nicer than you’d put on in forever. A tight black dress that hugged your hips just perfectly and left your chest quite out and exposed. Despite your pleas of denial Natasha had encouraged you to wear heals and boy did they do wonders for your legs. You knocked on the door and waited nervously. Wanda opened it with a desperate but nervous smile. It faded when she noticed you had a plus one. She was wearing a white jumpsuit, a little more conservative than you two but it had you blushing anyways. You exchanged awkward highs and smiles. She let you in with a fake smile as she attempted to seem normal.
“This is Natasha. My girlfriend.” You smiled fakely as you watched them introduce themselves.
“Your girlfriend! Wow yes. So nice to meet you.” Wanda bore fakely through gritted teeth. She knew you didn’t have a girlfriend. Vision didn’t. And you planned on making the whole scene very convincing. You two entered and Vision made his appearance. You and Natasha were quickly pulled off into a conversation, weaving your way throughout the crowded house. You both found drinks and made attempts at casual conversation with people. Natasha made the practice of being extremely touchy. She would lean down and whisper in your ear which caused shivers down your spine. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you blush. Wanda watched the two of you interact from her place as she sipped her drink quietly. The quick kisses you and Natasha would share and her quite apparent hand on your ass caused Wanda to squirm from across the room. Your drinks were set down as you two moved off to the side of the crowd. Her hands roamed across your body as if there was no one else in the room. She leaned down and whispered in your ear causing you to blush deeply.
“Who knew this would all come so naturally.” She paused, her hands settling on your hips as she pulled your body’s flush. “I want more.” She whispered before leaning down to kiss you deeply. Thus began a heavy make-out. Her tongue made a quick fashion of taking control of the kiss. You moaned as you opened your mouth further. Your hand tangled softly in her hair as she squeezed at your ass. You grumbled a little when she eventually pulled away. She wasn’t done yet. She leaned down once more to whisper in your ear. “Forget Wanda. I could treat you so right baby. Let’s just get out of here.” Your eyes flickered over to where Wanda was standing as you made accidental eye contact. She was schaithing as she faked enjoyment with the people surrounding her. Her eyes rarely left you. You couldn’t even tell if this was all an act anymore or not. You didn’t even have a chance to consider the proposition Natasha had put up when Wanda practically stormed over. She seemed to have taken your eye contact as a signal to come over. A giant smile plastered on her face when she reached out and touched your arm.
“Honey, can we step over here for a second? I’d love to just have a word with you?” She asked as her arm slid down to your hand, gripping it tightly. She didn’t wait for a response as she began pulling you off down a hallway and away from everyone. You glanced back at Natasha and all she did was wink. The house was bigger than you’d expected it to be. She looked around making sure no one was paying attention before pulling you up the stairs. She tugged you into the nearest room and you clumsily fell into her embrace. She shut the door, catching you carefully before pushing you up against the wall. “What the hell is all this?” She started, as if she was allowed to be the person upset here. Your eyes avoided her as you looked around the room, noticing a bed and dresser you were suddenly fearful she had brought you into her bedroom. The one she shared with her husband. “Oh don’t get your panties all tied in a knot, this is the guest room.” She said coldly as she shook her head. You pulled against her grip causing her to just tighten it. You looked up into her eyes as you struggled with what to even say. Her cold demeanor dropped suddenly as she sighed. Her hands fell to her sides and her eyes looked into yours, now glossy.
“When were you planning on telling me you were married?” You started, cautiously. “That you have this whole extravagant life. And you just sneak around with me.” You groaned. “Because you’re married!” You practically yelled causing Wanda to quickly snap her hand up and cover your mouth.
“Shh.” She hushed you softly. You shook your head, shaking her hand off of your face as you swatted at her.
“Don’t shush me.” You growled as you frowned. She sighed and took a step back, giving you a little bit of space. Your arms fell to your sides in defeat as you finally showed how you really felt. The pit in your stomach grew as you spoke quietly. “I just thought it was real.” You looked away from her and shook your head as tears filled your eyes. “Was any of it even real?” You asked, not even sure if you’d want to know the answer. She stepped back towards you again and cupped your face softly.
“Sweetheart, it was real. It was all real.” She said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “It was more real than anything I’ve felt in so,” she sighed. “So long.” You finally looked back into her eyes. They were glossy as tears threatened to fall. “I got in too deep.” She whispered. “I fucked up Detka. It was never supposed to go as far as it did.” She now looked away from you, feeling guilty. “You were just supposed to be my little distraction in the morning. My beaming ray of sunshine I would get to enjoy with my coffee. I fell for you though. I hoped the date would be terrible and would push us apart and I would lose interest.” She looked back at you. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and frowned. “I didn’t. In fact, I grew to really quite adore you.” She smiled a tiny bit. It was a sad, guilty smile that faded when she saw your frown. Her thumb wiped your tears away and she kissed your cheek repeatedly.
“You used me Wanda. You used me as a distraction from your sad, boring life, and unhappy marriage.” Your words were cold and mean. They took her by surprise but she knew it all already. She frowned and sighed.
“Please sweetheart. You have to forgive me.” She pleaded, her hands sliding down your face and down your arms to your hands. The tears that had been threatening to escape finally fell. She gripped your hands tightly in hers as she began to beg. “Please.” She leaned forward again and began to kiss at your face and neck. Between each kiss a beg or plead would follow. Her hands moved to your hips and back to your ass. Her hands stilled as she leaned to whisper in your ear. “It can be our little secret Detka. No one has to know.” She nipped at your earlobe slightly, causing you to groan. You felt sick sneaking around like this. Though there was something that drew you to the situation so strongly. It pulled and urged you against all of your better judgment. You broke, nodding weakly. She saw you nod and gasped relieved as she kissed you deeply, passionately. It was a kind of desperation you had never felt from her before. The feeling suffocated you. Her utter obsession with you fueled a fire in you you hadn’t ever even dreamt of. She dropped to her knees, looking up to you with desperate eyes.
“Let me thank you.” She murmured, her hands sliding up your thighs underneath your dress. You groaned at her touches and nodded again as your hand went to her hair. It gently tangled in her curls as she left wet kisses up your thighs. You separated your legs a little as you leaned up against the wall. She pulled your panties down your thighs and faked a gasp at the wet spot on them. “I’ve barely even touched you sweetheart.” She teased and stuffed your panties into her pocket, not planning on giving them back. You whined softly as you pulled her head closer to where you needed it. She immediately gave you the attention you deserved. She lifted your leg over her shoulder for easier access. Her head was immediately buried in your cunt as she licked moved as if she was starved. Her tongue moved skillfully through your folds and around your clit. You had to hold back gasps and moans as you fell back against the wall harder. A hand covered your mouth to stifle the moanes she created as she hungrily ate between your thighs. Your hand held tighter in her hair as you pulled her closely, directing her to what you liked. You could feel her smiling below you, this caused you to blush a dark color as you closed your eyes tightly. The embarrassment washed away as you only felt pleasure. Her tongue brought you to a quick orgasm. You bit down on your hand softly to muffle the moans she was so easily eliciting from your body. As you came down from the high you nearly fell over. She was quick to catch you as she held you up carefully. Your eyes were still closed as you leaned your head against the door, catching your breath tiredly. She wiped her face a little as she chuckled at your exhaustion. She leaned forward kissing you deeply. You kissed back with desire. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her. You whined into the kiss as it turned sloppy. She pulled you into her arms, holding you closely as you snuggled into her embrace, leaning your entire body weight on her.
“Come here darling.” She whispered soothingly as she held you. “Mommy’s got you.” She whispered instinctively. The nickname she used on herself caught you a little off guard at first. But you smiled and blushed at the comfort and fuzzy feelings you were feeling. She lifted you carefully and walked you to the bed before gently setting you down. You laid back on the bed and reached for her to lay with you. She stayed standing though and tried to part from your body. When she tried to let go of you your eyes snapped open and you whined.
“No mommy.” You complained and grabbed her clothes. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soothing your worries.
“I’m just going to grab some things to clean you up sweetheart I’ll be right back.” She whispered, causing you to reluctantly let go of her. She disappeared into the bathroom and was gone far too long as she collected some things. She returned only a moment later and sat down next to you. You squirmed up against her and she made gentle work of cleaning you up. Her hands gripped at your thighs causing you to instinctively open them for her, whining at the touch. She gently wiped you up before setting the wash cloth aside and carefully taking off your makeup. Your eyes stayed closed as you drifted off into a relaxed, sleepy state. When she finished she peppered soft kisses across your face before stopping at your lips. Her tongue was immediately seeking entrance again, causing you to moan and press your legs together once again. She pulled away when she noticed your reaction, tisking you no softly.
“Mommy’s sorry honey, no more tonight.” She hummed and soothed your cheek. You nodded and looked up at her with big eyes.
“The party.” You looked up with concern. She shook her head a little with a sweet smile.
“I have it handled. I’ll be right back okay?” She assured you as she waited to leave your embrace until you approved. You nodded and she stood up. She went to the mirror and fixed up her appearance. You turned your body so you could watch her, a small smile on your face. She smiled back at you before leaving the room and going downstairs. She explained to Vision that you were quite ill and would have to stay the night. When he offered to come up and help she politely declined, explaining how he needed to stay to finish up the party. He agreed and Wanda returned upstairs. She stopped in her room first and grabbed some pajamas before returning to the guest room, locking the door behind her. You reached for her impatiently, whines leaving your lips.
“Come here.” You murmured, clinging onto her jumpsuit when she was within reach. She stood next to the bed while you nuzzled your face up against her thigh. She took your phone from you one hair playing softly though your hair.
“What’s your password honey?” She asked, causing you to mumble it out. She typed it in before finding Natasha’s contact. She sent her a text saying she could leave and you would be alright for the night. You didn’t even question what Wanda was doing on your phone, all you cared about was being close to the older woman. She then set to work getting you out of your dress and into some comfortable clothes. All of her touches felt like fire on your body. You squirmed beneath her as her fingers grazed up your thighs. She then stepped back and changed out of her clothes. You watched in awe, biting your bottom lip as she stripped in front of you. Her confidence radiated as she didn’t even hesitate changing with your watchful eyes. When she finished she climbed in bed behind you. You scooted back against her body as she pulled you flush against her. You relaxed in her embrace, falling asleep quickly. All of your comfort would be taken away though in just a few short hours when she had to return to bed with her husband.
#mommy wanda#wanda#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch x you
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Overtime
pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader
rating: 18+
w.c: 2k
summary: You stay late after work with Joel at his construction office. (I suck at summaries, Joel and reader hookup in Joel's office after everyone leaves).
warning: No outbreak AU, Smut, P in V sex (unprotected), fingering, oral (male receiving), dbf ish!Joel, mention of age difference (Joel is like 40+, reader is 20+). Established relationship
a/n: first fic of 2025 🥳this is just porn with no plot that's been in my drafts sorry not sorry. Posting this in hopes it helps me get over my fear of posting fics on here and my forming hatred of this app. this was proof read by only me so sorry if they're mistakes. happy new year :)
You've been at the front desk all day organizing Joel’s clients for the projects and renovation, replying to emails, answering phones, doing your best to answer the questions you can, or forwarding the calls to Joel so he can explain what you can’t.
You’ve been his assistant at his construction office since you started college. Joel is a close friend of your dad’s and he had convinced Joel to hire you until you go back to college in the fall to help him organize and with his schedule. You answer the phone, reply to his emails, get his lunch, and do everyday assistant things. Instead, you found yourself bent over at his office desk as fucked you. Almost every day, after everyone had gone home for the day.
Once you see everyone else has left and it was just you and Joel. You go to Joel’s office and knock on his door. You slowly open it and see him behind his desk on his computer. You take a second looking at him, the gray hair mixing with his brown hair, the little bit of grey coming in on his beard. You never really had a thing for older guys…until now. You see him looking at his computer through the black frame glasses on his nose. He looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the desk.
“You can come in, don't worry. ‘Aint too busy.” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts of admiring him. You nod, closing the door behind you. He motions for you to come closer, and you waste no time going around his desk. You see emails and his digital ledger on the screen. Next to the computer, he has a large brown leather book, his physical ledger, because he’s yet to feel the need to go completely digital.
“You know you could probably make this into a spreadsheet. I could help instead of having this double thing you got going on.” You suggest as you open the old ledger, flipping through it. “How long have you had this thing, the 90s, the 80s, oh my god, since Kennedy?”
Joel closes it, rolling his eyes at the dig of his age and the systems he currently has. His hands go onto your waist, gently pulling you down to sit in his lap.
“My system has lasted me this long, so I’ll stick with it. Thank you very much. If it were up to me, everything would've remained paper. Damn, computer is hard to read and makes my eyes hurt lookin’ at it all day.” He turns you towards him a bit, changing your focus away from his computer. You lean down, kissing Joel, feeling the scruff of his greying beard against his face.
Feeling the blood rush in your body, the both of you have been waiting all day to have your hands on each other. He runs his hands up your skirt, bunching it up further on your thighs. You feel his bulge under you, growing harder as you continue making out passionately. His hands squeeze your thighs harder you feel his hard cock pressing against you.
“Seeing you in this fucking tight skirt all day was killing me, sweetheart. I just wanted to take you in here and fuck you on my desk.”
You continue kissing him, his hands moving down to your panties, his fingers tracing over your covered core, feeling your wetness. Joel kisses his neck.
“So wet already?…” He pulls your underwear down, tossing it with your skirt on his office floor.
His eyebrows raise, looking at you as his fingers rub along the outside of your folds. You shift, humping against his hand for more relief focusing on how good his finger felt rubbing your swollen and needy clit.
You whine incoherently, mumbling at his words, words failing to form as you get more aroused. He slowly slides two of his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out of your aching pussy; hearing the wetness forming, you melt against him, your back pressing against his chest as he spreads your legs while you're sitting in his lap.
“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to give this needy pussy attention. This pretty little pussy needed me, I can tell? Wanted me to finger fuck under the desk while I’m talking to my clients?” you moan more as he slides a second finger stretching you out. He feels your wetness coat his finger as he thrusts them inside, curling up and reaching your sensitive spot.
You cry out more. “Joel Joel, Joel!” moaning out his name, your mouth opens, forming an O as he continues fucking you with his fingers feeling your climax building, but the feeling fades as you feel his fingers leave your dripping pussy. You groan disappointedly as you feel. You pout, looking back at him at the arousal still clouding your brain.
“Relax, relax. I’ll give ya what you want soon.” he places a hand on your shoulder, gently moving you off the familiar seat of his lap. You look at him, your face flush as you feel the room getting hotter.
He softly kisses you quickly before his hard cock straining through his jeans as you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and pulling them down along with his boxers. He stares down at you, his eyes full of lust as he watches you spit in your hand before slowly stroking his big cock, teasing him. He rolls his eyes back as he leans in the chair.
After jerking him off, for a little you place his hard length in between your lips. You slowly insert the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it and tasting the salty precum on your tongue.
Joel groans as you tease him, not being able to take it anymore. He shoves his dick deeper into your mouth, making you choke. You followed his pace, bobbing your head up and down the length of his shaft, using your hands to jerk off the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth.
“That’s it, that’s it. Attagirl, Take it all. Know you can.” You listen, taking him deeper in the back of your throat, your eyes watering. You relax, hallowing your cheeks; his office is filled with the sound of you gaging around his cock.
“F-fuck, sweetheart, your mouth feels so good. You enjoy this, aren’t ya, sucking the cock of a man twice your age?”
You nod, trying to agree as he continues using your mouth; you look up at him and see his eyes rolling back closed as his chest heaves, still praising you as you suck him off. His grunts and moans get louder; he starts fucking your mouth for a bit, thrusting his cock deeper before letting you come up to catch your breath, taking his cock out of your mouth.
“Fuck baby…bet your dad didn’t expect you to be on your knees for me every day after work when he suggested you come work for me, huh.”
You wipe your mouth as you hear his joke, still on your knees, his hand still on your head, rubbing your hair. “Just don't let it slip out on guys' night after a few beers. Don't know who he’d be more mad at, me or you.”
You push the thought of anyone finding out about you and Joel in the back of your mind; you don’t want to think about what your dad will say or how he’ll scold you for sleeping with his best friend and your boss.
He laughs as he grabs your hand, helping you stand up; he kisses you sloppy, crashing his lips onto yours. Tasting himself on your lips. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna tell him.”
He holds your waist, unzipping your skirt and helping you step out of it. He moves it out of the way before moving you towards the desk; he watches you bend over the desk, can’t resist the urge to stare at your ass, he squeezes it before landing another smack on it.
“You ready, baby girl?” he asks softly, still caressing your lower back. You nod, looking back at him.
“Yes, yes, Joel, please. I need you,” you whine, not being able to wait any longer. Instead of giving in to what you want, Joel laughs lightly.
“Sorry, baby, I couldn't hear you; what do you need?” He taunts you as he runs a finger along your folds, making you whimper as frustrated as his teasing.
“Joel! Oh my god, just fuck me-” Your snappy sentence is cut short, interpreted by his big cock slowly entering the tip inside you; both of you gasp as he pushes more of his length inside you.
“You just don't know when to shut up, do you, baby? I told you I’d give you want.” His voice is deep and condensing, which arouses more if you're being honest.
He moves his hips a bit more, and your moans fill his office. And you feel him bottom out inside you, but he doesn't move, letting you get used to his size. After a minute, you nod, letting him know you could move. He slowly moves his hips, thrusting inside you, and you moan more as you feel him deep inside.
“F-Fuck Joel, you’re so big. Feel you so deep,” Joel growls as his hips start moving faster; he grips your hips tightly fucking into you more. Joel’s office desk rattles underneath you from the force Joel was fucking you.
“I know, baby, I know, baby. God, You feel so good. How’re you so tight every time? ‘Feel you clenching ‘round me, sweetheart.” his thrust gets faster.
“Fuck-fuck Joel right there.” you moan as his hard cock stretches you out. You hear him groan as he fucks you harder after hearing the name. He pushes you down onto his desk, moving his papers and construction plans out of the way, off to the side. You feel his hand grab one of your legs, lifting it up onto the desk. The new angle has you feel more of him deeper inside your sensitive core; the arousal builds as you feel your release building, and Joel can, too.
“Fuck…Joel…I’m-I’m.” You moan and whine as Joel continues thrusting inside you, helping you reach your release. He reaches a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit as he continues fucking into you, bringing you closer to your climax.
“C’mon baby, I feel you squeezing ‘round me. Know you’re close. Cum for me, sweetheart.”
You feel the knot in your lower stomach and hold on the desk as you cum around Joel’s cock. Your orgasm hits hard, and closing your eyes, you shudder, coming down from your release.
“That’s it honey, that’s it. Good girl, fuck baby, ‘m not gonna last much longer, Jesus-.” Joel grunts as his thrust gets more and more sloppier. Joel presses deep inside you. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as cums. His warm load releases inside your sensitive cunt. You both let out a moan together before relaxing against his desk. You feel him slide out of him, you breathing heavily.
Joel slowly pulls out after taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath. He lets out a low groaning “Goddamn.”
He sits back on the chair. He gently grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. You turn, pulling Joel into a kiss.
“I love you, sweetheart, but we gotta head out before the alarm comes on.” You nod, kiss his cheek, and then down his neck, feeling his hands on your waist.
“You don’t know the alarm code to your own construction office?” you ask a bit skeptically, but Joel just laughs and hands your skirt to you from the floor.
“I know the code, smartass, just don't feel like messing with the damn thing.” he explains as he’s cleaning you off with a tissue. You nod before leaving his lap, putting your skirt and underwear back on as Joel adjusts his pants.
“Oh shit, almost forgot. The Smiths said they want to change the hardwood they chose because they don’t think it matches the new wallpaper and wanted to expand the kitchen..” Joel turns his computer off, grabs his coat, and his hand goes to your waist, leading you out of his office. He listens to you tell him about the client from earlier. Ushering you out the door to his truck.
“Honey… I don't work after 5 p.m., so you don't work after 5 p.m., come on.” He opens the passenger seat of his truck before getting in the driver's seat.
“I know, I just need to write it down so I don’t forget my boss is a real hard ass.” Joel rolls his eyes at your teasing, as he pulls out of the office parking lot leaving, to take you home.
#joel <3#angel writes#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller one shot#joel miller au#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#joel miller fic#pedro pascal joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us au#tlou#joel miller x f!reader
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I Choose Her | Stand Alone Series: Chapter 3
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: A few years post 'Battle Of Hogwarts', y/n decides to buy her and Hermione a home that they can move into as newlyweds.
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 2.8k
Warnings: smut, jealous hermione, g!p reader, dom hermione (in theory), penis in vagina sex, cunnilingus, possesive hermione is hot, porn very little plot
Note: hello! so i've had this drafted for months but just never had the motivation to finish it but i finally forced myself to write since i was missing hermione, so here it is :) this isn't an original idea (loosely inspired by a scene in a film) and i'm embarrassed to admit which movie gave me the idea so i won't say it but iykyk. anyway, enjoy!
Taglist: @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @poppyflower-22 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @cherryflavoredcoke @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @brocoliisscared @aki-ham @theheartwants-what-itwants
"Make a left here." You say as you point to the turn coming ahead. Hermione merely scoffs, begrudgingly turning the steering wheel.
"Will you just tell me where you're taking us?" She asks, your wife's brows are furrowed the same way it has been the entire drive, but still, you don't give in.
Shaking your head, you respond. "Have patience, darling.. you'll see soon enough."
Although that does nothing to soothe Hermione's curiosity; her scowl only deepens.
She takes her eyes off the road for a moment to glare at you. "You know that I hate surprises."
"Oh you'll like this one, I'm sure of it." You declare with a certain conviction, soon leaning in to place a chaste kiss on Hermione's cheek.
As you almost earn a smile, you continue to kiss along Hermione's jaw before reaching up to part her hair away and doing the same on the shell of her ear.
You nip at it, and this time Hermione doesn't fight back her giggle as she squirms, shrugging you off. “Stop it, you rogue– I'm driving.” Your wife warns, and you eventually relent, leaning back in your seat as you travel further into the outskirts of London.
Gone is the bustling city, now there is only a long winding road, shaded with tall oak trees.
For a while it seems as though the journey may never end, but soon enough, a large property comes into view.
Ten acres of wood and stone, the house sits perfectly at the end of the road. It remains still and empty, abandoned for nearly a century, but it is a glorious sight nonetheless.
“Why have you brought me here?” Hermione questions as she slows the car, before it eventually comes to a complete halt.
You don't respond just yet, your bottom lip is set in between your lips in excitement as you unbuckle your seatbelt before climbing out of the vehicle.
Hermione follows suit, eager for an explanation.
You step in front of the car before speaking.
“You once told me.. when we were looking for places to stay in London, that you liked the look of this house. So I bought it.” You explain with a growing smile, glancing at the home once more.
As you take in the sight of the house and the surrounding scenery, Hermione stares at you as though you had gone mad, but inevitably, a smile also graces her delicate features.
“You are a complete imbecile.” Your wife remarks, although there is no bite to her words. It is cushioned even further with the way she practically jumps into your arms.
You chuckle as your hand rests on the small of Hermione's back. She clings to you, enthusiastically peppering kisses all over your face.
You wince at the contact, but a grin tugs on the corners of your mouth all the same. “I've made a good decision then?”
“Yes, it's- I love it. Reminds me of the lakehouse my parents owned.” Hermione admits.
She takes a step back, keeping her hands on your shoulders as she marvels at the large house with an almost childlike wonder.
Your chest brims with pride at her expression, and you proceed to intertwine your hands with Hermione's so you may walk together.
“Come, let's go see inside.” You urge, giving your wife's arm a tug, but she doesn't budge.
Instead Hermione pulls you back towards her, capturing your lips with her own for a searing kiss, her grip remains firm on your collar.
As your fingers get lost in her hair, you move to deepen the kiss, however you are abruptly interrupted by the sound of another car pulling into the driveway.
“Ah, that must be the muggle architect I hired.” You state watching as the silver car parked next to your own.
“Look, we don't have to change a thing if you don't want to.. but I figured it would be good to have a second opinion.” You express and Hermione swiftly nods, her hand remains on the nape of your neck as you both turn your attention to the curly haired brunette that emerges from the car.
The woman smiles at you as she approaches.
“Mrs Y/N, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” The architect greets, surprising you by pulling you into a hug.
After the initial shock subsided, you stiffly embrace her in return, before shifting your gaze towards Hermione.
“This is my wife, Hermione.” You introduce, and the architect finally releases you from her hold.
“Hermione, I am Emilia.” The woman says, only regarding your wife with a firm handshake in contrast.
“This location is excellent, I am going to build you a fabulous house.” Emilia avows, her hand somehow finds your shoulder this time. Her touch lingers uncomfortably, and you catch the way Hermione is staring daggers at the other woman.
You clear your throat, deliberately taking your wife's hand in your own. “I'd like to show Hermione inside.”
“Ofcourse.” Emilia beams, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes. “This way.”
═══════════════════════════════════════════
On the inside, the house appears somehow worse for wear. The walls are caked in dust, the wallpaper and paint cracking, but it is expected, and the interior remains gorgeous nonetheless.
More importantly, you know that Hermione prefers houses like this, one with a rich history.
“This is beautiful.” Your wife gaped as you all stepped into the spacious kitchen.
“Really, you like it?” You inquire, making the mental note of keeping the kitchen as it is.
“Yes, it's perfect Y/n.” Hermione utters as she walks around the room, inspecting the aged furnishings.
“Good.” You mutter with a relieved sigh as you take off your blazer to hang it over the barstool.
“It's hot in here, isn't it?” Emilia's voice is sudden as she enters the kitchen with a roll of blueprints in hand.
“That's why I think it would be best to get rid of this old brick and instead replace it with some temperature resistant concrete.” The architect suggests, but as you open your mouth to respond you are distracted by the way Hermione falls in next to you.
She drapes her arm around your shoulder in an almost possessive fashion, her body is flush against your own, as though to eliminate any chance of space in between you.
You wrap your own arm around her waist as a way to reciprocate.
Emilia proceeds to roll out the blueprint onto the kitchen island so the three of you may look at it. “So, this is what I have in mind.”
“A state of the art, self-sufficient smart home. Marine steel with self-cleaning glass, a guest wing and an entertaining area to the west.” She continues, and you notice the way Hermione tilts her head as the architect speaks.
You know your wife well enough to understand that she only does so when she disapproves of something.
“and this, infinity pool” Emilia says as she points to the top half of the blueprint. “It will overlook a gorgeous view of the lake.” She finishes, unnecessarily reaching across the island to touch your arm.
You clench your jaw, now starting to grow agitated with the architect’s incessant attempts to flirt with you right in front of Hermione.
You feel the way your wife's hold on you tightens, she clears her throat before addressing Emilia directly.
“So you plan to tear the entire house down?” Your wife challenges and Emilia flashes an insincere smile once more.
“Why not? It is incredibly dated.” The architect remarks, glancing at you for a reaction.
“I like it, it adds character.” Hermione interjects, she threads her fingers through your hair, now demanding your attention.
You hear Emilia scoff, she continues to address your wife in a condescending tone. “Well, a new house would be a statement. Ecologically efficient– truthfully these older homes are very impractical.”
“Eitherway, it's up to you.” Emilia speaks to you directly, her fingers brushing your forearm once more.
The architect's lack of subtlety makes your brows knit together in annoyance, you look to Hermione to find her wearing a similar look on her face. Although you also notice the way her sharp gaze is now brimming with anger.
“Actually it is up to my wife. What Hermione says goes.” You declare, squeezing Hermione's waist reassuringly before removing yourself so you may look at the pool table in the study.
As you explore further, you somewhat manage to overhear the things Hermione is saying to the architect.
“Please stop speaking to my wife as if I weren't here.” Even in a hushed tone, your wife's frustration is palpable.
You can hear Emilia's chuckle, laced with condescension, no doubt, although as she tries to respond, Hermione interrupts. “This is not your prestige project, this is going to be my home.”
“If you want this job, I suggest you stop making eyes at my wife and keep your hands to yourself.” Your wife concludes firmly and only silence follows afterwards.
As you wait for a response from Emilia, you reach out for the eight ball atop the pool table, fiddling with it.
The architect soon speaks, and you listen closely in added intrigue.
“That is ridiculous, Hermione I would never–” Emilia attempts to continue the farce, but Hermione refuses to tolerate the disrespect any longer.
Your wife sighs. “I have decided this is not going to work, my wife and I don't require your services after all.”
“What? I–” Emilia stutters in evident shock, but Hermione's patience has been stretched thin.
“Do shut the door on your way out– drive safe.” Hermione instructs curtly, and more stunned silence follows before you finally hear the rustling of papers followed by the echo of footsteps heading towards the front door.
As you hear the door shut, the noise is swiftly followed by more footsteps, Hermione's heels against the hardwood flooring as she enters the room you are currently standing in.
You observe the way your wife is looking at you; she appears almost like a predator, staking her claim.
“She's gone?” You ask the obvious and Hermione nods, she gets close enough to wrap her arms around your neck.
“I think you should hire someone else.” She states in a lighthearted tone and you let out a huff in amusement, your hands find Hermione's waist as you reply. “Alright, darling, I will.”
Hermione hums in satisfaction before leaning in, her lips meet your own for a heated kiss.
You only break away once your chest is heaving.
“I've been in the presence of actual Death Eaters, and you are more intimidating than most of them.” You quip and Hermione smirks at your statement, but otherwise, she continues to look at you in a way that suggests she wasn't exactly in the mood for conversation.
“Shall we see the rest of the house?” You attempt, and your wife shakes her head in disagreement.
“Not yet.” Hermione contends and your breath hitches in your throat as her hand finds your rear, harshly holding you in place.
“You're mine.” She asserts and this time you smile, matching her intense gaze.
“Yes. All yours, my sweet.” You seal your promise by kissing the column of Hermione's throat. Your wife's hand shifts to the back of your head in approval as she bares her neck to you.
You continue to kiss her, earning a breathy moan as you sucked on her tender flesh, Hermione proceeds to tug on your hair so she may guide your mouth towards her own once more.
She kisses you passionately, open mouthed and wanting, Hermione's tongue clashes against your own repeatedly as her hands roamed your frame.
*
Eventually, her palm settles on your groin over your slacks, and you aren't able to fully comprehend what was happening before you can feel Hermione's enchantment working.
The shaft begins to form within your underwear, and the familiar sensation causes you to groan, it is only heightened as Hermione boldly palms your cock.
“Hermione–” You barely manage as your lips separate for an instant; your wife doesn't speak, but the gleam in her stare still manages to send a thrill through your body.
“My love, please–” You find yourself muttering pathetically, as you ground yourself into her touch.
Hermione gives your shaft one last squeeze before pulling her hand away. “I know, baby” Your wife coos, and you watch as she lifts her dress up to her thighs before languidly removing her black laced underwear.
“I want to feel your mouth first.” She admits as she settles her rear atop the edge of the pool table.
As Hermione parts her legs, you don't need to be told what to do next.
You kneel before her eagerly, trailing a path of wet kisses along her inner thigh before your tongue inevitably makes contact with her hot, weeping core.
Hermione gasps aloud at the sensation of your tongue on her heat. Her fist clenches in your hair once more as you begin to pleasure her with your mouth.
“Yes..” Hermione moans and you slide your tongue skillfully in between her folds. You repeat the motion a few times before settling your mouth over her sensitive clit so you can suck on it.
Hermione is already trembling once you slip your tongue inside of her. You revel in the way your wife moans aloud.
You soon break away to lap at her folds, and as your tongue makes contact with her clit again, Hermione finally comes undone.
Your wife throws her head back as her climax rips through her. You hold onto her thighs as she writhes, her hold on the back of your head is painful, in truth, but you don't care.
“Y/n,” Hermione utters breathlessly, as you place one last peck upon her swollen folds before standing up to meet her in an urgent kiss.
**
Your wife does not waste anymore time, matching your eagerness as her hands find your belt. She unclasps it with trembling hands, and you moan as she slips one hand inside of your slacks to grip the base of your shaft.
Her thumb then traces the tip of your cock before assisting you in pulling off your pants completely. As you kick them off, Hermione doesn't let go of your length, leaning back onto the pool table.
You swiftly follow her lead, as though in a trance, climbing on top of your wife.
Hermione hastily pulls down the top of her dress until they fall to reveal her breasts. You then eagerly take them in your mouth, licking and sucking on her hard nipples. Your lover rewards you with more gasps of pleasure.
Hermione tugs on your hair habitually, and once your face is hovering over her own, your wife kisses you again, stroking your length simultaneously.
You feel her leg settle around your waist as she lines up the tip of your cock to her entrance.
Meeting her halfway, you move in a fluid motion, and soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt. The moan that rips out of Hermione afterwards causes your cock to twitch desperately inside of her.
"Fuck–” You groan, retracting your hips slightly before pushing deep inside of her once more.
Your wife's nails begin to dig into your back through your blouse, you can feel the way she is desperately trying to pull you closer.
You oblige her, your mouth eventually finds the base of Hermione's jaw as you continue to pump in and out of her at an urgent pace.
Hermione is incoherent, she is mewling and whimpering with every movement of your hips as your cock never fails to reach just the right spots within her after each thrust.
“Y/n– don't stop” Your wife eventually manages through her heavy pants, and you can already sense her second orgasm approaching.
You don't stop, instead, bracing your hands on either side of her head, you lift yourself up before rutting into her wildly. The lewd noises of your joining fills the vast room, and Hermione's whimpers soon morph into a loud moan as she reaches her peak on your cock.
The way the walls of her cunt flutters around your shaft was maddening, and the sudden gush of arousal that coats your girth instigates your own release.
Your entire body tenses as you orgasm, mere seconds after your wife.
Your heavy breathing matches Hermione's as you collapse on top of her, for awhile all you can feel is her arms and legs draped around you, along with her soft lips against your ear.
“Perhaps I should make you jealous more often.” You mutter in a playful tone once you regain your bearings.
Your joke earns a firm slap from Hermione, one that lands directly on your bare rear.
“Don't get any ideas.” Your wife warns sternly.
#hermione granger imagine#hermione x reader#slytherin au#hermione granger#hermione granger x reader#g!p#hermione granger smut#hermione smut#g!p reader
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helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3
a random day in my life in f1
pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid
summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock
word count: 2k
warnings: none
note: merry christmas and a happy new year!
thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)
it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…
masterlist / taglist
The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.
„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.
The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“
Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.
„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.
The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“
„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.
„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.
The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“
She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.
The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?
The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.
The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“
The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.
„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.
„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“
„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.
„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.
Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.
You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“
A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.
„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.
„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“
The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.
„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“
„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“
The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“
y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.
„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“
The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.
„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.
„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“
The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“
You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“
The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.
„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.
„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.
„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“
Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.
„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“
„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“
The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.
„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.
The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“
„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.
This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“
„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.
„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“
„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.
The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.
Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.
„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.
She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.
We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.
„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“
You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.
The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.
„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.
Comments 3.2K
user i- what was this?
user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition
user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule
user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?
user5 i heard lance almost fainted too
user6 this is cruel, but also love the content
user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER
user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht
user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan
user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!
youtube this was… eventful?
user11 ariana, what are you doing here?
user12 that’s so old
user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt
user11 what’s tiktok?
user14 love the new content
f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid
°°°
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#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc#fernando alonso#genz driver#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x f!reader#max verstappen x reader#female driver#female f1 driver
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The 7th Year
Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils
notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼
[4.4k]
“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.
“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.
Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.
Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.
“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.
You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.
“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.
People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.
All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.
“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.
Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.
Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.
“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.
“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.
“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.
You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.
“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.
You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.
“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.
You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.
Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.
Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.
You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.
You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.
As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.
Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.
“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.
“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.
Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.
Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.
Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.
Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.
“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.
You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.
“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.
You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.
“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.
You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.
“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.
Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”
You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.
When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.
You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.
What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.
When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini.
You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.
“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.
“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.
You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.
When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.
You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.
“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.
“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”
He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.
You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.
“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.
“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.
You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.
You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.
“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.
As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.
You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.
You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.
You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.
The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.
Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.
“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.
Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.
A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.
You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.
“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.
You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.
“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.
He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.
“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.
“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”
He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.
“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.
“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.
He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.
When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.
Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.
You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.
You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.
“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.
Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.
You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.
“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.
You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.
“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.
Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.
“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.
“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.
You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.
“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.
“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.
“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.
The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.
“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.
“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.
“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.
He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”
You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.
“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.
“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”
Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.
You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”
This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.
“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.
“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.
Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.
His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.
He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.
“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.
You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.
“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”
You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.
“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.
He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”
You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.
You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.
“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.
#nico hischier#nico hischer x reader#nico fic recs#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier smut#new jersey devils#hockey#nhl#nhl blurb#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fanfiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl players#nhl hockey#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nh13#nhl draft
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— WHY HIM?
SYNOPSIS: armed and ready at 4am, you approach your locked front door to confront the group of loud strangers trying to break into your apartment
PAIRING: fiancé!lsm x reader
GENRE: fluff, humor
TAGS: food mention, inebriated characters, post-bachelor party, brother!hvc
WC: 1.75k
MESSAGE FROM NU: hii long time no see :3 posting a dk oneshot to let you know i'm procrastinating on my final paper draft by drafting a hefty dk soulmate au i've been thinking about writing for a while. also dedicating this fic to @wongyuseokie the la to my ma
A perfectly peaceful Friday night goes to waste when you shoot up from your bed in a panicked state. It’s not the usual cat wanting to leave your room at five in the morning kind of scratching sound that lures you to open your bedroom door in a half-awake state. Instead, shuffling sounds out front and an insistent metal-to-metal sound, which you can only infer as someone trying to break into your apartment, cause you to become extremely vigilant.
Seokmin isn’t picking up his phone, but you keep his line ringing just in case he does. Doubtful that a pair of scissors can do as much damage to the head as a giant wok can, you head into the kitchen to pick up that giant carbon steel wok that you can never seem to fit into any of your kitchen drawers as a form of physical backup before you quietly approach your front door.
However, the fear that once overwhelms your body soon turns into a sigh of exasperation before you can even position yourself to look through the tiny peephole. You can clearly hear the familiar voices on the other side of the door and match each voice to its respective owner. Feeling relieved, you drop the wok on the cubby by the door and hang up the phone.
“Look, I opened it,” the man who was trying to open your door slurs with a dopey smile on his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s talking to anybody in particular. “I’m a fucking genius.”
Almost immediately after that statement, he falls forward and faceplants a couple centimeters away from your indoor slippers. Slumped to the side of his face is his hand that holds a small metal keychain between the thumb and index fingers. It’s a souvenir nameplate keychain from a family trip to another country a few years back whose design reads “Vernon” in all caps. You realize that the man near your feet didn’t even try opening the door with the key.
The actual owner of the set of keys lies on his left side while his entire body is propped against the bushes in front of your place. His legs are still surprisingly in a crisscross position, but you think it’s because his jeans restrict him from being able to unravel from the position. And when you see earbuds plugged up your brother’s nose while his mouth acts as some sort of impromptu speaker for whatever song he has playing through his earbuds, you consider the option of leaving him outside for the rest of the night. What’s even worse is that Joshua, although a little out of it, sits next to his younger friend and bobs his head to the music while lethargically reaching into his brown paper bag on his lap to grab some greasy fries. You think your brother is asleep, but you don’t know if him becoming a speaker happened pre-knocking out or post-knocking out.
“Do I want to ask why you guys are trying to break into my place at 4 a.m. in the morning or should I be concerned that only half of you guys are here?”
“Actually.” the man underneath you groans while he slowly gathers enough strength to sit upright. There is a nasty red mark on the side of his face that he doesn’t seem to know of and mind. “Saying ‘4 a.m. in the morning’ is redundant.” He points at nobody in particular with the same hand holding your brother’s set of keys and stares past your calves.
“Since you’re sober enough to be smart with me, I need your help dragging Vern and Shua into my place before the neighbors wake up and call neighborhood watch,” you gruff before stepping out of your house slippers into the sandals you keep near the door.
It turns out that there are more people scattered about the front of your place.
There is a car parallel parked against the sidewalk with what looks like two people in the car. Someone picks themself off the small grassy lawn on the other side of the bushes and trudges towards the car while pinching their temple.
Wonwoo nods at you when he passes by looking completely sober. Yet, for somebody who usually looks well-put-together, his hair is a mess while the top few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned…no, missing. What remains are the threads that once attached the buttons to the dress shirt. You notice that he grips three different neckties in his hand but still his loose around his neck. Nevertheless, Wonwoo kicks off his dress shoes, steps over Jeonghan, enters your front door without saying a word, and knocks out on your sofa before his legs can make it onto the cushions.
You turn back to your brother. Joshua wipes his fingers on his pants before he squats on the other side of Vernon to help him up.
“Up,” you tell the both of them.
“I can’t breathe,” Vernon whines while allowing the both of you to help him stand. “My nose isn’t working.”
You sigh and yank the wired earbuds by their cords and out of his nostrils and let them drop before the older man helps his friend into your place. Bending down to grab the bag of fries that Joshua forgot, you see a disturbing amount of hair poking through the crevices of the leafy bush. Someone was dumb enough to black out in the bushes and you can’t tell who it is even after peering over the bush to look at the other half of the body.
“Jeonghan,” you hiss at the man who is trying to discreetly walk back to the car.
He looks back at you and mouths “what” while shrugging his shoulders.
You point at the head in the bush.
“It's Jihoon,” he snorts. He takes the paper bag from your hand and walks back to drop it in the wok that you put to the side before walking back to you. “I think he was supposed to give Vernon his keys but tripped and never got back up. Come to the car with me.”
“Why are you guys here?” you whispered. “I thought that you guys had the entire night planned out.”
“We had the entire night planned out. But then DK started crying and we had to end it early because he wouldn’t stop crying. And then all of us sobered up to try to help him but then it just worsened, so we drove here to get you to get him to stop crying. Some of us couldn’t deal with not being able to solve his problem and just started drinking again.”
“Is that why Jihoon is in the bushes?”
“Well, he never was the patient type,” he hums.
A quick look into the car immediately gets you to understand why someone like Jihoon would end up so drunk that he would dive headfirst into some bushes.
There are dozens of used tissues balled up and overflowing in the tiny hanging trashcan attached to the back of the passenger seat in Wonwoo’s car. There are a few in the laps of the two men sobbing next to each other in the backseats, and you make a mental note to help Wonwoo sanitize the inside of his car before he drives away in the afternoon. Seungcheol releases Seokmin’s seatbelt and looks at you with an apologetic smile on his face.
In all of the years you’ve come to know Seokmin, you have never seen his eyes this puffy.
“Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced. That must have scared you. There was a lot going on,” Seungcheol murmurs to you while giving you a quick hug. “We were making toasts to his future during the party until Vernon made a comment.”
“What did he say?” you asked him, shocked that your brother could even make a comment that would bring your fiancé to such a state.
“It wasn’t bad.” Seungcheol stepped aside from the open car door to let you squat next to your lover. “He just congratulated you on getting married but this dumbass took it the wrong way because he didn't mention Donkey Kong over here in the sentence and thinks you’re getting married to someone else.”
“Someone else!” Seokmin chokes out in a sob while slumped over on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why him? Why not me?”
You grab a tissue from the tissue box on the center console and dab at your future husband’s face. The traces of his tears wet the thin paper, and you can feel the heat of his skin through the tissue. With the same hand, you push the bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyelids to the side. You don’t mind that he doesn’t seem to know that you’re there taking care of him.
“Aww baby,” you coo. “I’ll get married to you, don’t worry.”
The familiarity of your comfort seems to lure your fiancé to sleep. A little further from you, Soonyoung continues to sniffle while his eyes are closed. You turn to Seungcheol and Jeonghan with your mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together.
“He’s a drunk crier…” Jeonghan’s words doesn’t leave you guessing anything. “And also Minghao opened his mouth during the bachelor party.” He scratches the back of his head as a sign of stress and embarrassment before looking at Seungcheol and cocking his head at the two knocked out in the car.
Jeonghan has the easier job of coaxing Soonyoung awake to walk him into your place. Seungcheol, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to swing the entire weight of your limp boyfriend like a large sack of rice over his shoulder.
“Do you need me to help with anything?” you ask him.
You don’t know what time it is anymore. The sky is getting brighter, and the temperature is warming up. Your partner looks finally peaceful in his sleep.
“Nah.” Seungcheol softly brushes your request aside. “We’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”
“I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” you joke while trailing behind Seungcheol just in case he needed any help readjusting the body.
“You don’t have to apologize for him.” His words are sincere. “He loves you, you know. He cried his heart out just because he loves you. There’s nothing to apologize for. To be loved is to be cared for. Go back to bed, we’ll probably wake up around dinner time.”
“Do you think anybody grabbed Jihoon?”
#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seokmin imagines#seokmin fluff#svthub#seokmin x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#dk imagines#dk fluff#dk x reader#wondernus imagines
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SEE YOU LATER, q. hughes
word count | 1.3k
pairings | quinn hughes x fem!reader
summary | in which quinn and his high school sweetheart break up due to her fear of holding him back, only to meet again five years later.
warnings | not proofread, no use of "y/n". lowercase intended. use of the name “ellie”. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i know i’ve already posted today but i thought i would post this as well! i changed the plot a little bit from when i posted the draft reveal, but here it is! i lowkey hate this but i finally had a surge of motivation.
quinn hughes was in love; something he thought he wouldn’t feel until he was settled in his career. a dedicated hockey player, quinn didn’t pursue love or relationships. that was until he met her. she was the sun to his moon, his everything. everyone warned him about falling in love, especially at his age and with his future, but quinn hughes ignored it all.
the night it all fell apart was the night quinn hughes stopped believing in love. it was the night before he was set to leave for dallas, texas for the 2018 draft. the couple had just finished the cupcakes she had made and were now watching the stars; well she was, quinn’s eyes were trained on her face, following the features he had come to memorize. “quinny, you’re staring.” she giggled, turning to face him.
“i can’t help it, i’ve got the most beautiful girl in the world by my side, why wouldn’t i be staring?” this enticed another laugh from her, quinn smiling at the way her face lit up.
“i wish we could stay here forever.” she spoke after a few minutes of silence, unable to look at quinn. she felt guilty for what she was about to do, but it was the right thing to do.
“come with me.” the statement shocked her, and apparently quinn as well by the look on his face. he shook off the shock before continuing: “i want you by my side.”
“quinny…” she trailed off, quinn sitting up. she sat up as well, still avoiding looking at him.
“don’t do this. please.” she wiped a stray tear, finally looking to him. “please.”
“i’m sorry, quinn. but i will only hold you back.” quinn’s eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them fall. “you know it's true.”
“no, no it's not!”
“quinn, we can still be friends! and maybe when you’re settled in your career and if we aren’t in relationships, we could try this again.” quinn shook his head, a tear running down his cheek. she reached over and wiped it, her hand lingering for a moment. “i love you, but this is for the best.”
now, it had been almost five years since quinn had seen his ex. he hadn’t had a serious relationship since, instead focusing on his career. now, the season was over and quinn was back in michigan for summer with his brothers and friends.
“dude, i’m hungry…” luke groaned as he sprawled out on the couch. beside him, quinn sat his phone on the cushion, looking to his youngest brother.
“go get something to eat then.” he said, luke groaning once more.
“nobody will go with me to the diner and i will not go by myself. i don’t need people thinking i’m a loner.” quinn huffed out a laugh at his statement.
“i think it’s a little late for that.” luke sat up, punching him in the shoulder. “fine, i’ll go, but you’re buying.” luke jumped up, grabbing the car keys.
“let's go!”
the ride to the diner was short, luke practically jumping out of the car before it was even at a complete stop. “dude, what's the rush?” quinn questioned, following him into the diner.
“i’m hungry!” quinn rolled his eyes, taking a seat across from luke in the booth he had chosen. quinn’s eyes were busy scanning the menu when their waitress came over.
“hello, how you guys doing today?” quinn nearly dropped the menu, his eyes shooting up to meet her’s. he could recognize that voice anywhere. “quinn?” her voice caught in her throat, her eyes wide.
“uh, hey.” he coughed, his cheeks bright red. luke watched wide eyed at the interaction, his eyes widening even more when a little girl tugged at her shirt.
“mama?” now it was her turn to blush, turning to the little girl.
“baby, go sit down, i’ll be over in a minute.” quinn’s mouth dropped open momentarily, looking to luke who held the same expression. “uh, sorry about that. what can i get you to drink?” after taking their drink order, she hurried off to the table that the little girl sat at.
“dude, that kid kinda looks like you.” luke said, glaring at quinn after he kicked him.
“luke, please shut the fuck up.” luke shrugged, his eyes shooting from the menu to the little girl. she came back with their drinks, quickly taking their orders. she kept the interaction short, wanting to avoid them all together. it was her fault that they lost contact and she was the one who broke up with him. all her feelings resurfaced the moment she made eye contact with him, bringing up the need for a cigarette. she kissed the little girl’s head, grabbing her pack from her bag and stepping out to take a couple drags.
quinn watched as she hurried out, a sudden urge of confidence filled him, and before he knew it he was following her out. “can we talk?” he asked, hiding his surprise by his own confidence.
“about what?” she asked, her eyes following the cars that sped by. she took a drag from her cigarette, hoping this would be over soon.
“you know what.” quinn was angry. angry they had lost contact, angry that she broke it off. “is she mine?” she sighed, her head dropping. she knew it would come back to bite her in the ass eventually, she just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.
“yes.” she spoke no louder than a whisper but quinn heard her loud and clear. “i’m sorry–”
“don’t– i don’t want an apology cause i know you don’t mean it. why? why would you keep something so important to yourself? why wouldn’t you tell me? you know i would’ve stepped up, been there for you both–”
“that's exactly why, quinn! you would be so willing to drop everything, to end your career for us, for me. i didn’t want that, i couldn’t live with myself if that had happened! you can hate me for that, i don’t care, but you will not sacrifice your career to be a part of her life.” she wiped a stray tear, quinn staying quiet. “i will not stop you from being a part of her life, and i won’t force you either. i understand if you choose not to be around. i don’t blame you.”
“of course i want to be around.” quinn had tried to maintain eye contact, his eyes examining her face. he meant what he said, he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life. he wanted to be a part of her life.
“quinn, please.” she looked at him, “don’t feel like you need to do this. we are fine on our own.”
“i’m serious.” he held a straight face, “i want to be a part of both of your lives.” this cracked a smile on her face. she tried to hide it, dipping her head toward the ground. she put the cigarette out, flicking the butt. “when’s your shift over?”
“about an hour. would you like to meet her?” she began to walk back into the diner, quinn nodding as he followed. “ellie is kind of shy, you just have to be patient.” quinn shuffled in behind her, a smile gracing their faces at the sight of luke and ellie eating and coloring.
“oh hey, quinn! ellie was just showing me her art. i think she might be the next picasso!” quinn shared a look with his ex, a laugh bubbling up. he looked at the scribbles on the paper, a proud look on ellie’s face.
quinn watched as his youngest brother happily colored with his daughter, a content smile on his face. he may have been thrown into a whole new world, but he could definitely get used to this.
#angelicsoka#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#luke hughes#nhl imagine#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes x reader#nhl fic#hockey
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𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 - 𝗭𝗼𝗿𝗼 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
Hey, hey! Here's another contribution from the drafts. I meant to get this out earlier but I've been overthinking it haha. I'm still new to writing smut and I tend to write and rewrite, not to mention I've only just recently picked up writing again after years of doing it intermittently. I'll probably do what I always do and edit it for redundancies, mistakes, etc. This is almost pure NSFW but I did add a little prelude and a fluffy ending. Nothing crazy. Hope you enjoy!
CW: NSFW!! Gendered terms for reader (female); breeding kink; creampie; p in v; mention of overstimulation; use of term 'daddy'; actual talk of starting a family
~1.9K words
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Zoro wants kids. You wouldn't think it, given his typical demeanor, the way he interacts with kids, the big goals he has for his life. He's always liked the idea of little children running around, though - sparring with them, arguing, playing games, and telling stories. Yeah, Zoro wants kids. A family.
So, when you laugh at a comment Sanji makes in disgust about ‘a bunch of stupid green-haired babies popping out of you,' you have to do a double-take at Zoro's response.
“Yeah? What's so funny about that?”
You blink, a stupid smile still stuck on your face from when you were keeling over at Sanji's remarks. The laughter slowly dies, though, as you start to process his words. There’s something deadly serious about Zoro’s tone that makes your smile fade.
“Wait, what?” You ask, your attention fully turned towards the grumpy demeanor of your boyfriend sitting beside you.
You'd both been sitting in the galley of the Sunny, Zoro only following you in because you were insistent on talking to the curly-browed cook to see if he needed help setting up for lunch. Idle conversation and jokes that had been made seemed mostly tuned out by Zoro. You weren't even sure he was listening until the comment he just made.
“I said ‘what's so funny?’ Don't you wanna have my kids?” Zoro retorts.
Sanji’s just as surprised as you are, but he lets out a small snort before taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Who would want to have your brats, mosshead?”
“Who asked you, shit cook? Where the hell is lunch, anyway?”
Sanji grumbles under his breath, something about Zoro being a lazy jackass, but he reluctantly pads back off to the stove where he has food cooking for the upcoming mealtime. Sanji’s reaction isn’t even on your radar, though. You’re still reeling from Zoro’s question and the tone in which he said it.
“Zoro. You're kidding.” You say, your voice even. “What, you mean - you want kids?”
“Yeah.”
It's so blunt, treated as something so obvious that you almost feel like you’re in a different reality. You stare at each other quietly, and you're not entirely sure but you swear you can see the gears in Zoro's head turning as well. It’s a pretty big step in your relationship, all things considered. You two had barely broached the topic of marriage once or twice, and those conversations weren’t particularly enlightening about what the future holds for you. But…kids. Zoro…wants kids. That much is certain.
With an awkward laugh, you tell him casually that you’d like to talk with him about it another time in an attempt to brush off the topic entirely. It’s obvious by his reaction that he’s not happy, but he decides to drop it at the sight of your other crewmates entering the galley.
So, that’s that. For now.
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Loud moans and the sound of skin slapping leave the walls of the men's quarters, almost making the sock on the door handle obsolete. At this point, the sock was really just a formality to make you feel better. Both you and Zoro knew that if you were going to go at it like you usually did, everyone on the ship would know to steer clear the moment they walked within a fifteen-foot radius. Honestly, it was a joke at this point amongst the crew. Everyone was very well aware of your active - and loud - sex life.
Strong, calloused hands hold your thighs down against your chest, pinning you down into the bed. Zoro's cock slides into you with practiced ease, pumping in a familiar but hungry rhythm. His brows are furrowed as though he's concentrating, and through your sex addled haze, you can see a bead of sweat dripping down from his forehead.
“Fuuuuck, (y/n). Pussy feels so good for me.” He groans.
“Zoro, yes!” You gasp. One of your hands grips against his forearm, leaving light clawmarks from your nails against his skin. The sting makes Zoro hiss in delight.
“Yeah? You like that, (y/n), you like that?! Yeah? You want it harder?!”
Zoro picks up the pace easily, his hands gripping your thighs as he angles and thrusts himself down into you. He loves the fucked out look in your eyes, the way you coo and keen under his touch. It’s something that he’s sure he’s gotten addicted to, and has even gone as far as to tell you on multiple occasions.
All of this is so overwhelming, agonizingly intoxicating, and the pleasure building in your body isn’t doing much to help placate the frustration. An impulsive horny thought crosses your mind, though. The inkling of an idea. A solution. It could possibly backfire, but you were at the point of desperately needing a release. He had been going at you for almost an hour now, stopping when either of you got too close. Something about ‘wanting to take his time with you.’ You can’t even remember at this point, you’ve been denied that climax so many times that all you can think about is the feeling of Zoro’s cock dragging against your walls and the need to release the aching tension in your pussy. This move was risky, but hey, it's worth a shot.
“Harder! Fuck-…put a baby in me!” You exclaim.
This sets something in Zoro off, halting him in a way neither of you were prepared for. He pauses all movements of his hips as if trying to process what he thinks he heard you say. It finally seems to click, though. With a devilish grin, he leans forward, his face only inches from yours. His body weighs down on you, pressing you harder into the bed. Without warning, his cock slides into you only once - harder, more deliberate - as his eye flickers over your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tears prickling just out of the corners, though the way he slams his cock into you widens them.
“Yeah? That what you want? Wanna have my kids?” Zoro asks, his breath brushing over your lips.
“Fill me up, Zoro…get me pregnant. Please. Need you to come in me.” You sputter breathlessly, your nose just brushing against his.
Somehow, his grin widens further, and a small chuckle leaves him. You can feel him twitch inside you and you know for certain that this calculated risk has more than paid off.
“Shit, okay.” Zoro huffs, his movements continuing with a new primal urgency. “Yeah, there you go, pretty girl. Take it. Take my cock.”
There is something profoundly different about the way Zoro is fucking you now. The mating press he has you in seems more firm than before, his hands on your thighs squeezing with the effort of him ramming his cock into you. The head of his length brushes over your g-spot again and again, that perfect amount of pressure causing you to writhe and groan beneath him. Every sound that leaves you, every tremble of your thighs, only makes him double his efforts.
“Yeah, yeah, just like that. Keep going. Take it! Gonna put a baby in you!”
You can hardly believe the words you’re hearing growled at you, the way they’re cut through with the grunts and moans. Zoro has always put what felt like the maximum amount of effort into sex. It’s just who he is - he doesn’t half-ass anything he cares about, and fucking is one of those things. For some reason, though, every pass of his cock feels like it’s igniting some kind of new energy in him. A desperation - a need - that’s making it hard to even think of anything beyond the approaching precipice of orgasm. Your walls clench around him as though trying to keep him there, and the sounds that are leaving the both of you are nearly animalistic as Zoro fervently picks up his pace.
“Fuuuck, I'm gonna fill you up. Fill you up with my come and make you pregnant. You're gonna - nnng - be so fucking hot all swollen with my baby. Can’t wait.”
Your hands clench the sheets with the effort of trying to hold steady, to focus on the orgasm that’s getting closer and closer. His words are only amplifying the building heat, that coil getting tighter and tighter in your cunt. With every pathetic whine and cry that leaves you, Zoro’s hips collide into yours, his balls slapping loudly against your skin. You’re so close, have been chasing this orgasm for so long, and Zoro knows it. And now he wants to get you both there. With no effort on his part, he finally relents, moving a hand down to rest against your lower abdomen.
“Feel my cock in you, baby? You’re taking it so deep. Just a little more.” Zoro groans, unable to hide his own rapid build-up.
He slides his thumb down from where his hand rests, rubbing up and down against your clit in a steady rhythm. It’s his finishing move, the one that always gets you there, and its effects are damn near immediate. The way he’s bullying your g-spot with his cock, railing his hips into yours, and rubbing over your clit causes the sensations to build and build until-!
“That's good, baby. Come on my cock. Milk me and make me a daddy.”
You clamp a hand over your mouth as you ride the high, the ecstasy crashing down again and again. As you’re sent firmly over the edge, you clench hard around his cock which elicits another loud groan from Zoro, his seed spilling into you until it seeps out of your pulsing cunt. You groan and pant together, Zoro’s hips gradually slowing down until both of you have been properly worked through your respective releases.
You barely even register his cock leaving you. The bed shifts with his weight where he collapses beside you, an arm thrown over his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. It’s silent for a while, both of you recovering from the intense influx of chemicals and the racing of your hearts. The silence draws on, though, to the point where you're starting to feel a tension settling in your stomach. A conversation needs to happen, that much is clear, and the unspoken words do little to actually let either of you fully soak in the afterglow. It surprises you when Zoro’s the first one to speak.
“You serious about wanting a baby with me?” Zoro finally says, his voice gruff and low.
You hum as you turn on your side towards him, working hard to find the right words in response. He’s already looking at you, peeking under his thick forearm that rests on his forehead. Zoro looks wrecked, with disheveled green locks poking out in different directions and a thin layer of sweat glistening over his whole body. His chest is heaving significantly less than before, but there’s still a noticeable effort in the way his lungs extend and contract. You find your hand drawn to the broad expanse of his chest, resting gently against his warm skin.
“Yeah. I just didn’t know when to bring it up. Figured in the heat of the moment was as good a time as any.” You reply, a playful smile rising to your lips.
You watch as Zoro grins in return immediately, his eye lighting up in a way that you’ve only seen a handful of times. It’s missing it’s usual devilish charm, instead replaced with a sparkle that shines radiantly. His hand immediately grabs yours on his chest, holding it in place as if intending to keep it. There’s a pure joy growing in your chest that can’t be contained.
“Then you’d better stop taking those stupid birth control pills Chopper gives you. There’s going to be a lot more where that came from.”
#one piece#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#one piece smut#one piece lemon#zoro roronoa smut#zoro roronoa x reader
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Right Where You Left Me
Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)
Ellie Williams x reader
I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.
Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.
Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three over here!
Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao
I think that I have unlearned how to love.
That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.
Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.
I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.
The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded.
She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.
Almost.
It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.
Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas.
The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again.
So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do.
I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.
When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.
As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.
"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.
"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"
Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."
"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"
I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."
"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."
"So?" Cat asks.
"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"
"Why not?"
"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"
"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.
She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.
Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.
I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"
My heart drops "I'm not?"
Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."
I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.
"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"
My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."
Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-
"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.
"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.
Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"
"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."
While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret.
She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.
The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.
"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"
The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.
"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.
"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.
I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."
I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.
Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine.
As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.
After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"
"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"
Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-
"Yes, I have."
"Who?"
"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."
She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."
"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."
"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"
I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.
Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.
'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?
AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?
She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together.
God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.
I think I've had my fair share of partying.
After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.
I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter.
Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.
When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things.
"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray.
Thirty dollars?
Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).
I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."
Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.
"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off.
After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-
"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen.
I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.
Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.
"Make a wish!"
Age Sixteen- Grade 11
I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.
How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.
"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.
The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.
"What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.
I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?"
He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand.
"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.
I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline.
"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?"
I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.
"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."
"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.
"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"
"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"
"Because I don't."
My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.
I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."
Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."
I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.
My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.
"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."
She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-
My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-
Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.
I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her.
"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!"
Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.
Frankly, I'm fucking scared.
She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body.
Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.
This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.
"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain.
I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.
I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air.
Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it.
I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.
She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.
"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."
"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.
"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."
"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"
"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."
"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."
We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.
"Fine."
I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.
I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.
When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"
Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.
We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.
She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"
"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness.
"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."
"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."
Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing.
She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"
My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.
She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night.
Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."
"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.
"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."
I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."
I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.
"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."
I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.
"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it."
The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"
I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."
She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"
"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."
Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.
How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.
A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀
Thanks for reading!
Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica
#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x you#the last of us#the last of us ellie#tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#abby anderson#ellie williams au#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#joel and ellie#ellie tlou#ellie x you#ellie williams x reader angst#ellie williams angst#angst#ellie williams x reader fluff#fluff#ellie fluff#dina tlou#dina woodward#ellie williams fanfic#jesse tlou
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a lover's pinch | six
joel miller x f!reader
pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: joel and rachel have dinner. a confession is made. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, JOEL POV, sexting/nudes, joel has bad restaurant etiquette lmao, descriptions of arousal, references to past smut, the guilt and shame that sometimes go so neatly hand in hand with wanting, miller daughter cameo, mild angst, discussion of a car accident. word count: 4.8k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: just a reminder that this is set within ALP5, when joel goes to have dinner w rachel. just a short little peek into my beloved professor’s mind, and some context between j & r. hope you like it x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part six of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five.
Sunday.
“Nina thinks it’ll rain tomorrow. Overcast too, probably.”
There’s a faint hum through the phone as she speaks. A vague buzz that crackles and pops in almost every beat of silence. Not for the first time, Joel wishes she would let him buy her a new phone.
A gust of wind whips against his face and he cringes, turning his back against the draft.
“Okay,” he replies. “That’s okay, right?”
“It’s fine,” she grumbles. “Wanted to take you to this bar, though. They do these tacos we love. Nina says it’s the best Mexican place in New York.”
“Now how many times do I have to tell you there’s no good Mexican food in New York?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Joel can practically hear her rolling her eyes. He chuckles.
“What time are you coming ‘round?” Ellie asks. “I’ll be in the studio for most of the day, but we normally get home around five. Could do dinner around eight?”
Joel hesitates, and then raises his voice to be heard over the rushing wind. “I was actually thinkin’ I’d come see your studio.”
A moment of humming, crackling silence.
“I’d love to see some of your work,” he continues, peering in through the window of the restaurant. He thinks he can see Rachel through the frosted glass – her mess of dark curls vaguely visible, tucked away somewhere in the corner of the space. He hears Ellie breathing through the phone as he looks. “And s’been too long since you showed your old man any of your paintings.”
“Joel,” she huffs, and it’s that smartass, pained tone that has him grinning wider than anything she’s said up until this point.
It’s few and far between lately – hearing that name coming from her mouth. Joel. Something that’s been intermittent for almost a decade, and has been steadily decreasing since she moved to New York five years ago.
Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad.
Joel for years, and then one day—Dad.
It was Summer; Ellie was eighteen and he was thirty-nine, and this word that he’d grown so accustomed to hearing suddenly felt like a fist squeezing around his heart. It became something new, something different. Because Joel knew that, for her, family had always meant mistrust. Had always meant loneliness. Knew that sometimes her childhood felt like a knife stuck in her throat, and on those days, she had to decide whether to leave it in and stem the blood flow, or pluck out the blade and watch everything turn red.
And then one day, years on, it seemed that she’d drawn that dagger enough times. The blood stopped, the mistrust fell away, and—Dad.
Dad to Sarah and now, finally, Dad to Ellie.
“Ellie,” he imitates her tone, well-versed in mirroring her attitude after so many years of practice.
A voice rears up directly behind him and Joel stiffens, glancing over his shoulder to watch a couple exit the restaurant. Coat collars dragged up to protect their necks, arms linked as they smile and start down the street. He imagines Rachel sitting inside, alone, and his smile falters. He knows he should go back in soon, but can’t quite bring himself to cut this short.
“Yeah, okay,” Ellie answers finally, and he can feel the weight that rests in those words.
The admission, but also everything that goes unsaid alongside it. A silent acknowledgement of years spent reading between the lines, trying to know each other; years of her locking her bedroom door, hiding her journals, her artbooks, her pencils. Anything to keep someone else from seeing the way she expresses herself – from understanding that she feels anything. And this yeah, okay – well, it’s as close to I love you as the two of them ever get.
Joel says, “I’ve been missin’ you, kiddo.”
And she says, “I know.”
More silence. More contemplation of how to respond, how to keep emotions level when he is not Joel in this moment, but Dad.
Plucking out the blade.
“Ten tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the address,” Ellie says after a while. “Don’t be late or I’m not showing you shit, old man.”
Heat blasts his face when he steps back inside the restaurant. He tugs his jacket off as he wanders his way toward their little corner table inside San Vecchio—old saint. A small Italian place that Rachel likes to visit whenever she’s the city, and has slowly but surely grown on him.
When he gets close enough to see the table his stomach drops, face twisting into something apologetic as he lowers himself into his chair.
“Shit,” Joel mutters, staring at their food. Brought out while he was on the phone, sitting untouched; she didn’t even pick up her fork in his absence. A shameful heat rises in his face. “I’m sorry, Rach.”
“Hon,” she just laughs him off. “It’s okay, it only just came out.”
He nods, grateful, and lets her pour him a generous glass of wine. Red. A bottle of the Carignan, please, he remembers her telling the waiter. Although, when he takes a sip, he can’t tell the difference between this and the twenty-dollar cabernet he buys once a fortnight from the grocer.
They press the lips of their glasses together and murmur soft calls of cheers and another conference done, the words all but swallowed up by the raucous sounds around them.
“How is she then?” she prompts, never able to tame her curiosity.
“Ellie?” Joel’s eyebrows jut up, and he sets his wine glass down. “Good, yeah, good. It was nice to hear her voice, I, uh, I’ve missed too many of that kid’s calls over the past few months.”
Rachel nods, and when she smiles his chest feels a little lighter, because it’s the type of smile that says it’s okay, everything is okay, you’re a good dad, you took the call. And she has always had that kind of soothing effect on him, since the day he met her all those years ago. There’s this compassion to her character; a warmth akin to that of a sister. Smarter than hell and kinder than she’s ever been given credit for.
“Are you seeing her while you’re in town?”
“Mhm, tomorrow.”
“Well, that will be lovely,” she beams and takes a sip of her wine. Carignan stains her mouth. “Is she still with Nina?”
“She is.”
“God, that must be, what, four years they’ve been together now? That’s great, Joel.”
“I’m happy for her,” he smiles, gripping his fork. “They’re renting out this art studio together at the moment – Nina’s an artist too, did I—?”
“Yeah, you told me.”
“Yeah, they’ve been using the space to work on some new stuff. Ellie was tellin’ me ‘bout this gallery downtown, how they’ve offered her some exhibit space. Gonna have a show down there in March.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Rachel’s eyebrows raise, top lip quirking into a soft smirk as she twirls her fork through a mess of red pasta. “Do you think they’ll get married? Follow in Sarah and Tim’s footsteps?”
Joel can’t help but laugh at the idea. He tries to imagine Ellie and Nina in a chapel, or on a beach, or anywhere, professing their love for one another with friends and family watching on. Tries to imagine Ellie, all tattoos, messy hair, and gangly arms, tucked into a suit or a dress. The image doesn’t come easily.
“I don’t really think they’re the type,” he admits, and Rachel laughs too then.
“No,” she agrees. “I guess not.”
She asks more questions about the girls, the way she always does. Asks about Sarah’s job at the primary school, if teaching is all she thought it would be.
And something like halfway through their meal, around a mouthful of food, Rachel says, “You know I’m glad we’re here, because I need to ask you something.”
Joel’s hands still, face going slack as he meets her eye. There’s something conniving in them. Something sly in the way she smiles, baring her teeth at him. It makes his stomach twist into a tight, burning knot. What does she know?
“Okay,” he says slowly, lowering his knife.
“So,” she hums. “At the conference yesterday…”
“Yeah?” he rasps, blunt nails digging into his thigh beneath the table.
“I couldn’t ask you about it because I didn’t want anyone to overhear us, but… did you see what Professor Neilson was wearing? That blazer?”
“Jesus,” he deflates.
“Oh, come on,” she sputters, and there’s lipstick stained on her front teeth and he finds himself smiling too, relaxing.
“You’re a filthy gossip, you know that?” he raises an eyebrow.
She grins back at him. Winks and says, “Don’t act like you don’t love it, Miller.”
So, for an hour they eat, and talk, and drink. Don’t stop until their cheeks are sore from smiling and their ribs are tight and aching from laughter.
With full bellies and rosy cheeks, they scrape their plates clean. Lips purse and pucker around final sips of wine, and then… and then Rachel reaches across the table and places her hand atop his.
And Joel has never noticed that she has sunspots across her knuckles. Never noticed that she wears a ring on her pinkie finger, one with a dark emerald stone in the middle. Never noticed the thin white scar beside the nail on her index. She squeezes his hand, the pad of a finger skimming his wrist, and he remembers how he held someone else’s wrist only hours before this. Felt her skin beneath his fingers – the frailty of the tendons and veins beneath it, swimming with life as his thumb pressed down.
Joel feels his eye twitch. Works to keep his face relaxed, calm. And when she leaves her hand there, he laughs a little. A choked, wary sound. Turns his hand over so his knuckles are against the table and his palm is against her palm and squeezes once in return. Rachel isn’t smiling anymore.
“You okay, Rach?”
“Do you…” she pauses, mouth twisting into a shy smile as she clears her throat. Joel feels something heavy settle in his stomach. A type of dread that curdles and burns like red sky at morning. “Do you remember when Sarah was in that car accident a few years back?”
Joel swallows. Her hand feels too warm against his, her palm tacky with sweat.
“We were… we were at work, and… and Tim called you and told you she was in the hospital—”
He almost cringes at the memory. Her husband’s name flashing across his phone screen during a lecture. Stomach churning and why is Tim calling me, heart racingand Tim never calls. Remembers hearing those panicky breaths down the line and thinking Texas and Maine had never felt further apart than in that moment.
“You drove me to the airport,” he nods. His knuckles feel tight – he wants to pull his hand back and crack them. Wants to feel the joints pop beneath his skin, let the tension slip away like a sigh.
“You were so distraught,” Rachel sighs. “I’d never seen you like that. So uncomposed, so… chaotic.”
Joel huffs out an awkward laugh and tries to pull his hand back, but she squeezes harder. Keeps it in place beneath her own.
“What’s this all about?” his eyebrows furrow, face pinching into a sort of scowl. He can feel it, he can always feel it when his face does this. So unpleasant, so unwelcoming, and he knows it. Just never figured out how to stop it from happening.
“We were in the car,” she continues, and her eyes are so earnest now. So wide, the whites shining, her lashes darkened and fanned out around them in a way he’s never seen before. She’s wearing makeup. “And you didn’t even have a bag packed, you just wanted to get to your girl. Needed to see her with your own eyes, make sure she was okay.”
His jaw feels tight inside his head; teeth clenched painfully, digging into the gums around his molars as the memory plays in his mind.
Tim’s voice wavering, crying, she was unconscious when they pulled her out.
His hand is numb beneath Rachel’s. She’s fine, he reminds himself. Sarah’s fine, that was years ago.
“I think I knew then,” she says quietly.
“Knew what?” Joel tries to keep his voice level. Ignoring the odd feeling that twists in his chest and has his heart racing faster, so much faster than normal, faster than it has ever raced for Rachel.
“That I loved you.”
It’s almost dreamlike, the way everything seems to blur and fade around them after she says it. Or perhaps nightmarish is the right word. A sharp pain sparks between his ribs and he feels his body stiffen and then loosen all at once. Face, shoulders, hand beneath hers – everything softens. Fuck. His mouth tastes like sandpaper, tongue resting fat and gravelly against the roof of it as she stares at him.
When he doesn’t say a word, she says, “I’d always known you were so kind, so generous to the people around you. But to see the way you love? It’s… shit, Joel, I just knew.”
He’s convinced his throat is tightening.
“And I held it in all of these years, and I’m sorry for that. I was just never sure of how you felt, and you never tried anything with me, never hinted at any feelings. But after the conference yesterday...”
“The conference?” he whispers. He pictures that bench outside NYU. Remembers the nasty wind, an empty champagne flute on the ground, the side of his body going hot where it pressed against hers.
“Walking around that hall together,” Rachel smiles. “You kept holding your arm out for me to hold, and I thought, god, maybe this is it. Maybe you actually feel the same.”
Joel imagines that this must be what people describe as critical velocity. Everything that once was smooth turns turbulent. Every second, every minute, that he’s allowed himself to careen forward, wanton and reckless, on the deliciously destructive course he’s set for himself – all of it just for someone close to him to step directly into his line of fire.
And his silence is so painfully telling. He knows immediately when it’s been too long, too much quiet, too many seconds of nothing said, of no reassurances offered. The muscle in her jaw ticks, and a vertical line appears between pinched eyebrows. Confusion, surprise, hurt. Her hand pulls back, and he tucks his in his lap quickly.
“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, shit.”
Joel is suddenly certain that he’s going to be sick. His hands shake beneath the table, a violent tap tap tap where they’re clasped against the inside of his thigh.
“Rachel—”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Please, don’t apol—”
“I shouldn’t have said—”
“Rachel,” Joel’s voice raises, just a little, just enough to make her pause, enough for conversation at the table beside them to halt for a second. “If anythin’, I should be the one apologisin’.”
She laughs; a sad, quiet thing. Shakes her head at him.
“I guess I… somewhere in my head, I thought you knew,” Rachel says quietly. “Thought you….” The unspoken words hang in the air between them. Thought you felt the same.
And it hurts. His skin prickles at the sound of her voice; laced with pain, with rejection. Your fault, he thinks. That pain is your fault.
“Is there someone else?” she asks then, and her voice is so feeble. So small, so un-Rachel that it makes his chest feel tight. Your fault.
Joel sighs, cringes, fumbles for the right words. The words to explain something that he himself doesn’t even fully understand. Words that will make her feel better, that will put her at ease. Put him at ease.
“It’s not….” he trails off, half-prepared to lie. But then he meets her gaze. Sees the tears that have settled on her waterline and knows he can’t. Wants to hate her for asking, wants to beg her to take back the question. But in the end he just admits quietly, “I suppose there is.”
She sniffles, and when she speaks again, it almost sounds like a question.
“You never mentioned anyone.”
“I know,” Joel nods. “I’m sorry, I think I just… it’s complicated, and it… it’s new.”
“New,” she repeats softly. “And you never… you never thought of me that way.” This time it isn’t posed like a question. There is nothing open ended about it. Instead it’s resigned; final.
The corners of her mouth are downturned, and her lower lip wobbles, a movement so miniscule that he could have missed it if his eyes weren’t trained on her face. Trying painfully to understand this situation that feels as if it has crept up on him in his sleep.
“I’m sorry,” Joel finds himself saying again, and he thinks his eyes must be wide, unblinking, because they’re dry, and he feels panicked.
In his mind all he can think of is every cup of coffee in her office, every borrowed book, every sly joke in the corridor at work. Comforting smiles offered at conferences, snarky notes passed back and forth during faculty meetings. His friend. One of the truest, longest, most persevering ones in his life. One so dear to his heart. The idea of all of that being no more seems almost too painful to contemplate in the middle of a restaurant, with your fault thundering in his chest.
Rachel waves a hand. Feigns nonchalance and offers a watery smile.
“I’m happy for you, Joel,” she says. He doesn’t miss the waver in her voice, nor the harsh splash of crimson humiliation that stains the skin of her face. “I am. Really.”
Except he doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know what there is to be happy for. Can only watch her face. Can only sit, and stare like a fool at the way the skin beneath her eyes tightens as she draws back tears.
“I’m—” Rachel swallows. Sucks in a huge breath and flattens her palms against the table. Her napkin, stained with soft blots of red and brown, is pressed beneath the fingers of her left hand. The one with the sunspots and the ring and the scar. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to use the restroom—”
“Rach,” he tries, hand reaching across the table for—for what? Joel isn’t sure. What is there to do? To say? “What can I do?”
“It’s okay,” she stands, holds a hand out to silence him. Steps out from the behind table and squeezes past him. Her fingers brush against his arm as she goes. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just need a second to freshen up.”
Joel watches her weave through the restaurant, shifting around tables, until her back disappears through a door at the far end of the room.
There’s a minute of painful quiet. A sort of buzzing in his ears that won’t go away. For a moment all he’s aware of is the look of disdain coming from the woman on the table to his left, and the sharp pain in his chest, and then the sounds of the restaurant come rushing back in. Cutlery scraping against plates, conversation, laughter, the sound of a bell ringing. And something buzzing, really truly buzzing this time. Something against his leg.
Joel pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries not to wince when he sees her name on the screen.
Are you enjoying your dinner?
The glance he spares over his shoulder is short, searching, looking to see if she’s coming back yet. Don’t make this worse than it already is.
Yeah, the restaurant is nice.
What are you doing?
Well my bags are packed, and I just tucked myself into bed
Something tightens in his stomach, and he knows what she’s doing, knows this game so well. The way she always manages to creep beneath his skin. Knows exactly what to say, to do, to have him hanging on her every word.
His fingers hover over the screen, contemplating a response.
Is that right? he types out, and then grimaces, backspacing quickly.
Want some company? he types next.
“Christ,” Joel mutters under his breath, erasing that too.
Embarrassment itches across his body. And then guilt, like a tidal wave chaser rushing to cool his inflamed skin, as he notices Rachel walking back toward him. You fucking asshole.
He straightens in his seat, tucking his phone out of sight as she hovers beside the table, eyes darting between him and her empty chair. She doesn’t sit down again.
“I think,” she takes a deep breath. “I think I should probably go. Early flight to catch, you know? I need to get some rest.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
He can feel his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded, ridiculous, as his brain scavenges for something to say. Never the right words, never when he needs them. Not for her, and not for Rachel.
Rachel reaches for her purse, and he holds out a hand. “Hey, let me… I’ll cover this.”
She pauses, nods. “Thanks.”
“Course,” he says gruffly. She pulls her coat from the back of her chair, wraps it around herself and does the buttons up slowly. Her mascara is smudged. “Hey, Rach, can we… should we talk about this some more? I don’t want to—”
“Not tonight,” she interrupts sharply. “Please, Joel, I’m sorry, just…. not tonight.”
—lose you.
“Sure, okay.” His throat is tight, your fault lodged heavy against his Adam’s apple. “You need help to get a taxi?”
“I’m fine,” she places a hand lightly on his shoulder, and presses her thumb against the skin beneath his collarbone. “Get home safe, okay? We can talk in Maine.”
“In Maine,” he repeats, and the words split and sour inside his mouth. “Okay.”
He doesn’t watch her leave. Doesn’t want to have to see her retreating from him. Doesn’t want to think about if this will be the last time they get to do this.
The waiter returns and he pays the bill, hastily jotting down a generous tip, and offers the women at the table on his left a tight-lipped smile before standing up.
When he finally makes his way outside, he finds a tax idling by the curb, lights on. The driver notices Joel staring; rolls down the window and raises his eyebrows. Where to?
Joel only shakes his head a little, leans his back against the dank, cold brick wall behind him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before opening his phone, and sends two words.
Show me.
And then, when she doesn’t respond for a moment, he sends another message. Insistent now. Desperate, and even more desperate not to let it show.
I know you want to show me, sweetheart.
And when she does show him, it takes all of his might not to let this guilt consume him. Takes everything not to ruminate on how quickly he can shift from I’m sorry to Show me.
Because her skin.
So much skin.
Soft, smooth; shrouded in a robe that covers more than he’d like, and he knows how it tastes. Knows how it feels. Could press his fingers, his lips, his nose, to every part of it that he’s touched, in the exact same places, from memory alone.
It’s cold outside – windy, the beginnings of tomorrow’s storm twisting through the air. He feels it snake across his neck, curl beneath the lip of his collar, as he takes in the curve of her breast, the stiff point of her nipple, peeking out from behind white fabric. His cock stiffens in his pants.
He gazes at the softest part of her stomach, the thatch of curls that cover her mound, and wants to press his palms against the plush of her thighs. Wants to lay himself atop her, feel that skin against his again, hear her whimper and moan beneath the broad weight of him as he slips inside her. Wants to snatch her finger from her mouth and glide it inside his own. With her slick and her skin against his tongue, he’d sink his teeth in and inhale that warmth, that beating, pulsating force that he’s found himself so intoxicated by.
And to think, only hours ago, he was doing just that. Lowering himself to the ground in a public bathroom and drinking her down. Feeling the muscles in her thighs pull tight and then loose against the sides of his head. Anything to satisfy the craving that only she seems to inspire in him.
Resolute, persistent – a probing, prodding thing that nips at his heels and thrusts him forward at a double time pace.
A hunger that follows him down the nights and down the days.
A hunger that can only ever be sated like the taking of a sacrament – on his knees, devotion in his eyes.
Jesus.
Are you wet?
You know I am.
Are you touching yourself?
Joel’s jaw tightens. He holds his breath and waits. Can’t quite tell what would be worse; knowing that she’s touching herself, alone, thinking about him, or that she isn’t, that she’s waiting for him. He can feel his cock leaking against his thigh.
No.
He exhales heavily, and the faintest hint of a groan slips out with it. Fuck, pull yourself together.
Joel’s fingers float over the keyboard, and for a moment he thinks of Rachel.
Thinks that if he could only bring himself to look up, to look away from her, he might be able to see Rachel still. The back of her coat, the dark scrawl of her hair, disappearing into the night. Joel thinks of the tears in her eyes, taunting him, threatening to spill spill spill, to streak down rosy cheeks and wet the hollow of her throat. Feels something throb and crack in his chest – a painful, resounding ache that hurts so much like fear, like loss.
Your fault, your fault, your fault.
And wouldn’t that be so much easier? If he were to look away, to chase his friend down the street and tell her that he was wrong, that he wants her, that it makes sense for them to be together. Wouldn’t it be easier if that were true?
But he doesn’t stop looking at her. He thinks of Pothos, of Himeros, and stares at the soft curve of her stomach, the indent of her belly button. Looks at the way her lower lip rests below her finger and pictures it swollen, slick with a medley of her spit and his. Even notices a small mark, nestled in the crevice between her hip and the top of her thigh. A fading remnant of where his teeth had once pinched – like a tangible little footprint, whispering that he was there.
Longing and desire flame between the cracks of his ribs; a bright white heat that curls itself around your fault until he manages to shake the thought.
What was it that Kaminsky said? There was no mythology: Odysseus hanged himself. Homer drank to death and stank of mud.
And perhaps he was right; for there is no witness to this. No being over his shoulder, God or mortal, to lay their eyes upon this moment and understand that all he has ever known of love is deprivation. That fondest, blindest, weakest part of his being that has always yearned for, or perhaps grieved over, this love that once seemed so intangible and now, at last, maybe he has been deemed worthy of.
Alone so long, living in a body grown accustomed to such quiet. Familiar with no touch other than that of his own rough palms. And now… the intensity of it shakes within him. The urge to sink his teeth in like a bad dog and hold, hold, hold, to consume and be consumed, and never yield to anyone who wants to take this away from him.
No, there is no looking away from that, from her. Joel feels the noose tighten around his neck the longer he stares – a dog on the leash of its own longing, that need only sharpening with every second that dares to pass.
And Joel knows that nothing has ever been easy. Considers the idea that maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for him. And perhaps he doesn’t want easy, doesn’t want simple. No – Joel was always drawn to the flame.
Good.
Dinner finished early. Where are you?
And that flame welcomes him now in kind. The arms of a lover spread open for embrace; the address of her hotel sent directly to his phone.
Joel looks up and makes eye contact with the taxi driver again. Light still on.
Where to?
**the Kaminsky mentioned in this is Ilya Kaminsky, and the quote is from Dancing in Odessa.
thank you for reading! x
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Hello! I’m thrilled to meet a writer who will create Newt Scamander Fics! That’s amazing he’s super underrated! That being said I would be more than thrilled to request a touched starved Newt Scamander x fem (or Gn if that’s what you’d prefer) Reader who Newts in an established relationship with but it’s new and he’s eager to initiate intimate moments with them big or small to show he loves them. Reader could also be newts assistant as well! Thank you!
i've had this sitting in my drafts for the longest time. just something short and cute. ty anon <3 !
title: scrapped
newt scamander x reader !
you had first met newt when he first began his travels. as silly as it seemed at the time, he was in dire need of an assistant to care for his animals and, in turn, you had been in need of a job. growing up, an elderly neighbor of yours had been a puffskein breeder for some time. it was at a young age where you were taught the beauty of magical nature, where a love for creatures was born. so, with that warm desire to care and protect these creatures, you had studied materials available to you in hopes to learn more of them. when you had learned a young man in the ministry was in the process of writing a manuscript on the information and care of these creatures, you had beamed at the thought of another wizard caring for them as much as you did. you had almost jumped at the ‘in need of assistant’ announcement that floated around hogsmeade as you worked a bored shift at a small corner bakery. seeing as you were one of the few options, newt had chosen you to work alongside him and his beloved creatures. with proper instruction and care, they soon became your creatures as much as they were his and everything seemed more lively around the case.
now, five years later, you sat quietly at newt’s kitchen table, humming to the music playing off the phonograph. on this quiet spring day, you two had initially planned to go on a nice, much needed date. the weather, on the other hand, had other plans. the rain pelted down against the pavement almost as soon as you arrived at his quaint townhome. so, instead of going for a nice lunch, you two had opted to stay inside and enjoy each other’s company. the fireplace warmed the home and the smell of stew wafted around the kitchen. as you made your lunch, newt was in the basement tending to the creatures. though working with him everyday for years, you and newt had only started dating four months ago (there was always a push and pull from either of you deeming a romantic relationship inappropriate for work partners before he asked you to go out for dinner one night and you caved into his romances). you had slowly come to terms with his home being yours in a sense that you were here on both your on and off days. you lifted yourself from your spot at the dining table, leaving your sketch of the small golden snidget you had recently rescued, and made your way back into the small kitchen to finish your meals. your hips swayed to the music that played quietly from the living room as you fixed two bowls of stew for you and your boyfriend, setting a kettle on the stove for tea afterwards. and, with both bowls in hand, you make your way down to the basement.
newt is at his own desk downstairs, eyes fixated on whatever's in front of him when you find him. it’s warm in the basement, or at least where he is currently stationed, and you find yourself tugging at the sweater you had decided to wear. you clear your throat to let your presence downstairs known before stepping to his desk, placing the warm soup in front of him. “your lunch, sir” you say lightly to him, a smile gracing your features. he can’t help but smile as well, moving whatever was in front of him out of view. “thank you, dear.. it smells wonderful,” he says, looking around his desk for his wand. upon finding it, with the flick of his wrist, your own desk chair from across the room finds its way to the table, next to his. “come sit, i do have something to show you..” newt explains, smiling as you take a seat- the chair pushes in the slightest bit afterwards. you giggle at the small gesture. once settled in your seat, your boyfriend scoots his chair a little closer to yours with the tiniest blush on his face. how cute. clearing the table of the stray papers and tools, he reveals what he had been keeping behind his back. it was a small folded bouquet of flowers using old papers from the past few weeks. you feel that your cheeks warm up at the cute gesture, still not used to the small acts of love that came with the new relationship. you take the small bouquet of flowers from him, smiling at him warmly. “i was going to buy one while we were out for lunch today before the weather turned upset. i hope this can make up for it for now,” he tells you softly, eyes darting from your own and to the paper in your hands. you admire the work, seeing scribbled bits and pieces of scrapped notes and drawings- his handwriting and love coating each fold of the paper.
with the smell of your lunch wafting through the office, the sounds of the animals milling about their days from out the door, and the love of your life next to you.. there was nothing else you could ask for.
#noteriii#fantastic beats and where to find them#newt scamander#newt scamander x reader#newt x reader#harry potter fanfiction#reader insert#fem reader#x reader#harry potter
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Wake up, BurningCheese/GoldenSpice babes, new poorly drawn blorbos just dropped
They look cooler in my head, I swear.
the images didn't show up the first time wtf lol
The kids are finally here, yay. I promised I'd show you them, and I finally stopped being an asshole and followed through. Almost got 200 followers and I'm very grateful for it - really, I'm nobody. I'm just some clown who says dumb stuff and makes dumb memes and writes cringey stories, and yet I convinced almost 200 people to tune in. Thank you all so much, users on here and anons in my inbox alike. As a token of appreciation, you can all endure my rambling about my OCs and witness a person in their early 20s draw like a 12 year old.
The boy is Pepper Jack (or Pepper Jack Cookie). He's the firstborn and older than his sister by a few years. He takes after his mother in a lot of ways, primarily in her appearance (save for nabbing his father's red eyes). He's incredibly bright (and a smartass lol), preferring to think his way out of conflict rather than fight his way out... not that he's above violence at all, if that glaive doesn't give it away lol. He harbors a deep sense of love and loyalty towards his family and his peoples, and carries the weight of his responsibilities and heritage with as much confidence and poise as he can muster. (There are/will be times where he stumbles, of course. He's not perfect. He struggles a lot more than he lets on, really. But he tries his best, for everyone's sake.)
The girl is Matar Paneer (or Matar Paneer Cookie). Again, she's the younger one by a few years. She was all but made in her father's image, save for inheriting her mother's eyes. She's a little firecracker: lively and fun-loving and stubborn as a mule. She doesn't ask "can I have/do this thing", she tells you "I'm going to have/do this thing". Golden is proud as anything to see her daughter be so greedy... until that greed comes into conflict with her and Spice's authority lol. But she's a good kid, despite being such a handful. She has an enormous heart and is not afraid to stand up for others/what's right, and she loves her parents and brother more than anything in the world. She might doubt her own capabilities, she might secretly fear that she's not strong enough to do what she needs to... but she keeps pushing anyway, because she'd honestly choose death over quitting.
Your eyes are not deceiving you, Pepper Jack's wings are blue lol. There's an actual reason for that. And that USO (Unidentified Sitting Object) in Matar Paneer's hair is a lotus (the cheese one in the GCK decor set lol). There's a reason for that, too. I thought it would be cool to give Jack a glaive and swap out the normal blade for that of a khopesh sword (glaives are not Egyptian, they only saw use in Asia and Europe, but I just HAD to give him a glaive), to add that Egyptian touch. Paneer's supposed to be wearing a pattu pavadai, it's a traditional Indian dress for young girls. It's a blouse plus a skirt. She's holding katar, Indian knives (Cilantro Cobra has them, too). And her hair's supposed to be in a low ponytail.
Merchant thinks that if they explain what their terrible drawings are supposed to convey, people will understand their intended vision and the pain will stop
I sat down and did research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for the sake of drawing inspiration for them both. I'll explain in detail in another post, but basically: both of them take after one Egyptian god and one Hindu god each. Golden takes after Ra and Spice takes after Shiva, so I figured I'd follow along that line.
Please flood my inbox with questions about them now. I've really been dying to talk about them for ages now. I've drafted extensive character sheets for them both, I even made up in-game descriptions for them lol. They're my little fankid blorbos and I love them :') I hope you all come to love them, too
(Also, I'm sorry they're on lined paper. I'm visiting family rn and that's the only paper my grandmother has in her house. I'd have to drive to a stationery to get printer paper and I'd really rather not drive in this particular country lol (shit roads, even shittier drivers). I'll doodle them on printer paper whenever somebody remembers to bring me some)
#haha spicy cheese and cheesy curry. Get it?#also... when you accidentally indirectly ship Ra x Shiva via making up kids technically born from them lol. Does this count as Old Man Yaoi#(jk I mean no disrespect whatsoever. These gods/faiths are and were important to people and I don't mean to offend)#(I genuinely love learning about other religions and I had fun being inspired by these ones)#(seriously I went ham with this shit. Pepper Jack's birth is based on an Egyptian creation myth lol)#These two have long roads ahead of them. They're going to struggle and get hurt. But they'll pull through and come back better than before#fr please ask me stuff about them. I need an excuse to ramble for 10k words#you can even ask stupid shit like what their favorite color is#I love these two. I feel like their crazy grandma lol#also I have lots of thoughts wrt Spice & Golden as parents and their thoughts/feelings about parenthood#plus their individual relationships with each child#so you can expect me to rant about that too lol#maybe someday Merchant will shut the fuck up#cookie run kingdom#burning spice cookie#golden cheese cookie#burningcheese#goldenspice#cookie run oc#cookie run fankid#pepper jack cookie#matar paneer cookie
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader
genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, implied age gap, hoseok-sshi being tired of yoongi, …
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 646
release date: 7/12/24
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
author’s note: WELL AT LAST INNIT? Y'all I swear I’m as impatient to put this out but also so nervous. This is the longest chapter of Lacrimosa to this date and there is a reason. A lot is going to happen here and in part two. That’s why I decided to split this into two parts, and perhaps if this would be only one part I would have to write “the end” which I’m still not contemptuous with soooo yeah. But this has been such a long ride and looking at the almost 300 pages long document I’m sitting here like damn. The first draft of Lacrimosa can be traced back to 2021 and I can’t believe we are almost at the end of it all.
ANYWAY - for those who asked a lot about Y/N’s and Yoongi’s age gap, kudos for your patience. Also, I have another fic that is setted in the world of champagne confetti [now i’ll know if you’re actually reading these notes hihi] of which preview will come, probably this week too, or maybe the next one, again, very excited to push it out finally AND, yes to all of you if you’re still reading this note - CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI [now you just looked up to see what i’m talking about right] will come around as soon as i’m finished with UNI this year. If yall be good I can pull out a preview out of my sleeve for Christmas. SO, see you all on 7/12/24, the usual time :))))
previous NEXT
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“You don’t just do that without having something bigger planned.”
Seokjin’s eyes flickered to observe Yoongi’s reaction to their brother’s words. “He is right, Yoongi. She has always been emotional, and driven by her heart. But this—" He shook his head. “It’s different.”
Jimin shifted in his seat, looking between the men, the concern in his eyes growing.
Hoseok stood straighter, his expression softening as he spoke with conviction. “She had a choice. She could have walked away or stayed neutral, but instead, she chose to act. And what she did, Yoongi, was not just for herself. It was for all of us. For you. Do not dare to doubt her loyalty, when she worked hard to finally be contemptuous here!”
Jungkook, his voice quieter than usual, spoke up listening to Hoseok’s words. “She did what she had to do. And whatever her reasons are, I trust her.” His gaze met Yoongi’s. “You should, too.”
Yoongi’s expression hardened, trying to keep his emotions in check. His mind raced, the weight of everything that had happened in the past hours pressing down on him.
Taehyung’s voice broke through the silence once again, more serious than usual.
“She has changed—” Yoongi exhaled sharply, his mind still reeling. “I just need to understand why. Why now? Why this?” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the vulnerability slipping through despite his best efforts to hide it. His heart... his heart wanted to believe in her, wanted to believe she was doing this out of devotion, not manipulation.
“Of course, she has changed!” Hoseok’s frustration was bubbling at this point. "You were nine when she was born," he continued the quiet force in his voice, not backing down.
“Nine years, Yoongi. You have had that much more time to figure things out. To live your life, to become who you are now. She did not have that—” Yoongi’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The truth was there, raw and unfiltered, and it stung.
“She had three pathetic years to enjoy what life can be and then she went to be your wife.” He took a breath, trying to steady himself. Y/N had spent so much of her life suffocated by the things that had shaped her, by the violence and manipulation that had plagued her existence long before she ever crossed paths with him.
The silence that followed was thick, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.
His voice was quieter than it had been, softer, as he spoke the words he wasn’t sure he was ready to say. “I just… I need to—”
“Even if she is plotting some grand escape, we will stop her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s head snapped up at the interruption, his eyes narrowing at Hoseok’s words. For a moment, Yoongi’s chest tightened, the idea of Y/N plotting against him threatening to undo everything he’d been trying to hold together.
He stepped forward, his hand resting gently on Yoongi’s shoulder, an attempt to ground him in the present. “You all are too busy doubting her, instead of trusting her.” Yoongi flinched slightly at the rawness in Hoseok’s tone. He had been too caught up in his own doubts to truly see the bigger picture.
“Maybe you are right,” Yoongi muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling back to the surface.
“She is not running, Yoongi. She is not playing you. What is happening now is what happens when you have been given enough time to think.” Hoseok’s gaze softened, his expression becoming more contemplative.
For the first time in a long time, Yoongi allowed himself to take a breath, to breathe out the doubt, and let himself hold onto the belief that maybe, just maybe she was done fighting him for good.
“I genuinely hope that you are right, Hoseok-sshi.”
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coming soon
©pennyellee. please do not repost
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
PS: Taehyung and Xiaoli 🤭🤫❤️
keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.
tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83
#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi x reader#fic:lacrimosa#mafia au#yandere bts#yandere yoongi#yandere#min yoongi au#min yoongi x you#bts yoongi#min yoongi mafia au#yoongi yandere#mafia yoongi#yoongi x oc#min yoongi#yandere yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi smut#yoongi#min yoongi yandere#bts yandere#yandere!au#yandere min yoongi#mafia min yoongi#dark min yoongi#haegeum
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Nervous
Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack
summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day
notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌
[2.6k]
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Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.
Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.
Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.
“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.
You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.
You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.
“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.
You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.
Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.
At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.
“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.
“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.
Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.
Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.
“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.
“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.
“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.
“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”
Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.
“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.
“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”
That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.
So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.
He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.
Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.
“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.
“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”
“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.
“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.
“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.
“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”
Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.
“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.
“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.
“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.
“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”
“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.
Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.
Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.
As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?
Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.
Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.
He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.
As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.
You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.
The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.
As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.
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Cruel
Pairing: Nicholas x F!Reader
Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: Cocky Asshole!Nick, stereotypical cliché rockstar behavior, toxic af, petnames, fingering, oral (f receiving), p n v, cream pie, canon big fat co-, dramatic and cliché, ~making love~, happy ending, lightly edited, [you deserve better than men like this!!!], 18+ MDNI
Summary: Your long time on-again/off-again love finds you the second his tour bus reaches home. Even with your walls up, he charms his way into apartment and back into your heart.
A/N; Not my best work but this wip has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, finally decided to let it see the light of day. Enjoy 💕 Also… this almost became a Jake Kiszka fic…
“You paint a picture of us, just to burn it. Fool, I’m a fool if the shoe fits.”
- Cool // Gracie Abrams
The minute the GPS was set to home, there was a buzz on your phone that had been absent for the past two months. You unlocked it mindlessly, thinking nothing of it, but the second you read it your heart sunk to your stomach.
❌DO NOT ANSWER❌:
Gonna be back in town around midnight.
See you then?
Absolutely not. Why would you do that to yourself again. Yet, against your better judgement, you answered.
No.
You sent back simply, with your heart pounding in your ears.
He replied almost immediately. The speed of it made your heart flutter but you had to remind yourself that he was probably just bored on a tour bus. That you were probably just the easiest option after having an endless pick of groupies on the road.
Oh, c’mon don’t be like that
We could have fun
The thought of having him again sent a wavering behind your ribs that you quickly tried to squash down. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. No, no, no – you repeated in your head like a mantra.
You: I don’t have fun with you.
Nick: It sure didn’t seem like that before I left
It was a half lie. While you did have fun together, he always came at a cost. He was never yours, not fully. Right before tour was always the worst.
While he was home everything felt different – domestic even at times, and each time you convinced yourself it’d be different, that that time would be the one to stick, that he would stay yours. But then weeks leading up to tour things would change, he’d grow distant, and fights would spawn out of nothing. In an instant, he wasn’t the man you were in love with. Love wasn’t a word you ever threw around in your label-less relationship, but it was felt, at least on your end. Regardless, sex was the one thing that always kept you two together – but it made you weak and pliable.
You: That’s not true and you know it
Nick: Just let me see you, we can talk about it
You mulled it over in your head. Your heart wanted nothing more than to see him again but that was exactly the reason you needed to resist. It was a war between your head and your heart and for once, your head was winning. You were sick of the rollercoaster of loving him, sick of getting your heart broken repeatedly. This tour was the biggest and longest they’d ever done, almost double their usual length, and the fallout with him before he left was the most damaging it’d ever been. The extra time apart allowed you to process the pain and assess the relationship. You’d been able to accept it for what it was and come to terms with the fact that you’d never have him the way you’ve always craved. While he was away, you grieved the crumbs of your situationship and chose yourself for once. Though, the pain that bloomed from that decision felt like a betrayal to your heart in the moment, but you knew it was for the better.
You know it’s for the better.
You: I don’t want to see you, Nicholas.
Nick: I wasn’t aware we were lying to each other now
Heat rose to your cheeks and your stomach churned in anger and pain as your brain flooded with infinite memories of him lying to you.
You: Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you
Nick: Just let me see you
You: No. Why the fuck should I let you
Nick: I wanna talk Nick: I have something for you
You: I don’t want anything from you
Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. Sometimes he’d bring you little nothings from his travels, but nothing notable or worthy of being a bargaining chip.
Nick: Just let me see you.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, his persistence was wearing you down. It’s a horrible thing to be lovesick for a man who gives you just enough slices of dopamine to make you forget why you were mad or cautious in the first place. It was toxic and thrilling all at once. It was nothing but lies – both from him and yourself. Your heart was beginning to feed you false truths like: he could just come over, you’d call him on his bullshit and let him leave without him getting to you.
You gave into him, like you always did.
You: Fine. But you leave when I tell you to. Nick: No problem. See you in an hour.
You mentally scolded yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel the flurry of butterflies running rampant in your stomach.
After a while, you checked the time and noted that about an hour and a half had passed. Fear and disappointment trickled down your spine at the idea that he might not even show up after you gave into him like a fool. It made you sick to your stomach even though it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that.
About 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door and adrenaline spiked in your bloodstream. You took a look in your full-length mirror and smoothed out your silhouette. While you fed yourself the lie that nothing was going to happen, your hands chose a flowy sundress that laid mid-thigh.
When you opened your door, you were met with Nick in comfy clothes, clearly fresh from off the tour bus. As indifferent as you should’ve been, you couldn’t help but take notice of how good he looked with his hair up in a messy bun. Still, just the sight of him felt like a dagger through your already bleeding heart. It was a torturous duplicity being so in love with him, yet so heartbroken from just looking at him. All the work you did to suppress and heal your wounds crashed back down to square one. The second he spoke you knew you’d made a horrible mistake.
“Hey.” He smiled and you could tell he suppressed a smirk.
“Hey.” You replied flatly. Your resiliency was already begging to falter. You hadn’t heard his voice in months, and it stirred something in you – something both vicious and compelling. You came to realize that this was a dangerous game you chose to play.
His eyes fluttered down your frame, soaking in the vision of you completely. “You look,” He paused, and you expected something vulgar, but he surprised you. “Fantastic.”
A peachy hue grew on the tops of your cheeks at the compliment, and you silently reprimanded yourself for letting him get to you already.
He stepped closer to you, brushing your hair just behind your bare shoulder to admire you fully. “All this for me?”
And just like that, the flutter in your stomach fell along with the edges of your lips. Your eyes begged to roll at the question, but you restrained it to just a scowl. “What are you doing here, Nick?”
“To see you silly.” He said nonchalantly while his crystal eyes held something more you couldn’t place – it was like a glint of something deeper than he was letting on. “Now let me in, won’t you?”
You sighed and stepped aside to let him past you. “You said you wanted to talk?” You pressed against the door to close it behind you. When it clicked into place you rested flat against it with your arms crossed.
His head tilted around the small space to take it in, even though it wasn’t drastically different, any remanence of him was gone. Then, he met your eyes again to answer your question. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”
You groaned, unraveling your arms to ball your fists at your sides. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”
So much for keeping your cool.
He huffed out a maddening laugh. “All worked up, are we? Must’ve been really frustrated while I was gone.”
“Actually, it’s been real fucking peaceful.” Your arms crossed back over your chest. “What do you want, Nicholas?”
“I wanted to see you.” He said earnestly, this time with less smugness to it. “And to give you this.” His arm went behind himself and into his back pocket only to pull out a palm-sized stuffed black cat. He held the sitting stuffie in his hand on display.
Your heart sunk the second your eyes landed on the stuffed toy. Both anger and heartache bubbled into your stomach, into your veins and all across your skin. Your shoulder muscles stiffened reflexively. “Why the fuck would you bring me that?”
The truth was that the cat contained more than just stuffing – it represented a past floating idea of a shared black cat between you. Whenever you two were at your best, you discussed adopting one together. You’d keep it at your place since he’s so often away from home, but it would be shared nonetheless. It never happened of course, but there he was holding a physical placeholder for it.
“I saw it and thought of you.” He said infuriatingly nonchalant, though you couldn’t tell if the ignorance was genuine or not.
You crossed the threshold between you and snatched the stuffie from his hand. You squeezed it by its sides in front of his face, “This is cruel, and you know it.”
While you were fuming, there was still a small pathetic part of you that swooned at the fact that he remembered such a small thing.
He reached out to graze up your jaw to your chin. “Even when you’re pissed at me you’re beautiful.”
You smacked his hand away from you, not wanting anything to do with him or his dizzying games. “You are such a fucking prick, and you know it. You know what this little toy means to me, and it means nothing to you.” You nearly spat at him while you shoved a finger into his sternum.
He grasped your wrist, keeping it in place as he stepped forward. “Who said it doesn’t?”
The air between you seemed to dissipate, leaving your throat barren of oxygen. Yet, your self respect held strong against his convincing words. “You’re a liar. A cruel liar.”
He closed the gap between you further until his lips were hovering just above your own. “I’m not lying.” Your nose filled with his scent – peppery cologne, weed and beer. It wasn’t the most pleasant mixture of smells, but it was him and he was something you’d missed and longed for the past two months. His smell and his proximity had your chest swirling with love and desperation. You wanted – no – you needed him to be telling the truth this time. It had to be the truth.
“I’m not lying.” He replied softly with his eyes falling from your own to your lips then meeting your gaze once more. “Let me show you how honest I’m being.”
It wasn’t your smartest move, giving into him so effortlessly. He just made it so easy to believe anything that came out of his pretty mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time you fell for his tricks and unfortunately, something told you it wouldn’t be the last.
When your lips met, it was electric, sparking and hot. You weren’t sure if that was just what he’d always felt like or if it had just been months since he touched you last.
It didn’t take long before his fingers frantically tangled in your hair. You matched his energy, curling fists into the base of his bun. He stumbled you both back onto your couch with your lips glued to each other’s. The kiss was full of fire and pent-up tension.
You ended up with both knees on either side of his hips. Your lips landed on the spiderweb tattoo on his neck, immediately sucking at the ink. He let out a hiss at the intensity of your suction. Your hips swiveled over the bulge growing in his pants.
“Fuck.” He groaned and tugged at the hem of your dress, silently asking you to pull it off.
You detached from his neck briefly and yanked the sundress off your body tossing it on the floor. Before you could return to your spot on his neck, he grabbed your face to meet his lips again. It was messy with teeth clashing and hasty tongues fighting for dominance.
Your hands fumbled between your bodies to unzip his jeans to let him out. You wondered how he was even able to stay in his pants with his massive size when he was hard. You took him in one hand while the other stabilized you on his shoulder. He groaned into the kiss as you worked him in your hand.
His fingers curled tightly into your hair, “I need to fucking be inside you.” He all but growled.
You nodded quick and breathless, you needed just the same. You tugged away and spit multiple times onto his impressive size. It had been months since you’ve had him, there’s no way this wasn’t going to hurt.
You lifted on your knees, as much as you could, Nick helped by pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers up and down your folds.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” His fingers dipped inside you, just a fingertip deep to gather some of your juices and used it to better coat your entrance. He paused and his brows furrowed a bit. With how full you felt with just one finger you could only imagine what he was thinking. “You’re going to need more prep than this for me.”
You whined, but you knew he was right. It had been so long since you’d taken him, and your cunt needed time to refamiliarize itself with his size.
Your hand never halted on his length, and it was obvious on his twisted features and his mouth slightly parted. No matter how angry you were at him, it didn’t take away from how pretty he looked when he was drunk off of you.
He pumped his finger slowly in and out of you just to set a pace before adding another. A small gasp fell from your lips at the addition and stilled all of your movements.
“Just relax baby,” He soothed, and you softened in his hold. “That’s it, let me take care of you.”
It was a weighty thing to ask of you, but your mind turned to mush the second his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. Your eyes rolled back, and your chest gave way to him. “Fuck, Nick.” You muttered out pathetically.
“I missed you.”
-was the last thing you expected to hear from him in that moment, but you were so lost in euphoria that you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Mmmhm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed. “Missed you too, Nicky.”
You were absolute putty in his hands, he knew exactly how to work you into whatever he wanted. You were easily pliable to him, and in that moment, he was grateful for it. He placed a soft kiss to your collarbone, then another at the base of your neck. “Missed me how, angel? Tell me.” He whispered, his voice low and crackly.
Your jaw fell slack when he added a third finger but you were so worked up that it hadn’t been that difficult. It still burned but the pleasure he was supplying to your clit was overshadowing any pain.
“Use your words, princess. Let me hear how much you missed me.” He was practically begging you for any morsel you’d give him. He’d never admit it but he was desperate for you too. “Tell me baby, did you touch yourself thinking about me?”
Your head lulled to the side, cascading your hair over your shoulder. “Uh huh.” Was all you could muster.
“Mmm. Like this?” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that was rarely touched by you or anyone else.
You gasped at the feeling in tandem with his thumb on your clit. His fingers pulsed against the soft inner tissue in a rhythm that made your brain numb. It was a spot only he had ever really been able to reach, either with his fingers or his cock. He knew your body better than anyone else ever had and he was good at it.
A smirk played across his lips, evidently satisfied with your response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
The warning of an orgasm burned in the pit of your tummy, filling it with tingling warmth. It must’ve been all over your face because he caught on quickly. “Oh, what’s wrong? Is my pretty girl going to cum already?” He spoke smoothly up your neck while his fingers increased their speed ever so slightly, just enough to tip you over the edge.
You abruptly grabbed hold of his shoulder, squeezing it with every bit of strength inside you as your orgasm washed over you. The euphoria began just below your navel then spread electricity across your skin. You felt it everywhere, down to your fingers and your toes.
He let out a satisfied chuckle against your throat, “That’s my girl.” He praised and held you as your body began to collapse against him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
When you were finally spent is when he really came to life.
“Fuck I need to taste you.” He exhaled and as soon as you nodded, he snatched you, holding you with both hands securely below your ass. He was in a frenzy, like a shark that just smelled blood. “I want to taste all of you, every bit of mess you just made.”
He hastily carried you over to the bed across the room in your small apartment. He laid you gently, but impatiently, on the edge of the bed with his lips planted on yours.
You barely had time to miss his lips before his tongue latched onto your clit and his fingers returned to their place inside you. He brought you back down to just two fingers in order to give you a bit of reprieve.
Your mouth immediately created an ‘O’ shape with wide eyes at the skill of his tongue. “O-Oh.”
He ate you hungrily as if he hadn’t had pussy in weeks which historically, when he’s off on tours, was quite the opposite. He gave you no time to get caught up in your thoughts with the way his tongue slithered ‘S’ motions from your clit to your entrance, then taking his time at your throbbing bud. He lapped up every bit of your orgasm, not wanting to leave anything behind. The feeling bloomed a sparking heat from the pit of your core to the rest of your body and you silently cursed him for making you feel so good.
When you glanced down you noticed that while he was bent eating you, his hand had been on his cock – gliding up and down swiftly and in rhythm with his fingers and tongue. You thought that might’ve been the hottest thing you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the way he couldn’t not touch himself while eating you.
You let out a tiny moan at the sensation of his tongue against your swollen clit. But god did he feel good. It had to have been his extensive body count that made him good in bed and while you didn’t like thinking about it, you were surely grateful for it in the moment. His tongue expertly spun around your nub with various patterns. You couldn’t help but wiggle around at the stimulation to which he hooked his arms around your thighs and brought you to the edge of the bed. His knees met the wood floors, his tongue never once wavering. When he pulled your bud into his mouth with a suck you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
You shook your head, while he felt amazing, you needed more. “I need your cock, Nick, please.” You begged, pathetically.
His lips curled into a smirk against your core, placing a soft kiss at your clit. “Whatever you wish, princess.”
Your heart swelled and your tummy swirled at the name, it was your favorite, and he knew it. You were convinced it was the best sound in the world when it fell from his lips.
He pressed kisses up until your mid torso before pulling away. You whined at the loss of contact, but you knew it was only for something better. You squirmed at the attention and parted your legs even further, wanting more.
“Look at you, all laid out for me.” He cooed, with his eyes wandering across your body trying to choose his favorite part of you. His fingers trailed up your thighs, taking his time to savor your skin. “Okay, now baby, take a deep breath for me, will you?”
You did as he instructed but your breath hitched in your throat as he slid his fingers inside you once more, this time adding a third finger again. It burned a bit, being stretched out that much, but you knew it had to be done in order to take him fully.
“Good girl.” He hummed as he began pumping his fingers in a slow pace. After some time familiarizing you with the span of his fingers, he decided he wanted to take it further. “Actually, can I have you a different way?”
You nodded, too fucked out to deny him of anything.
His hands were rough when he flipped you over onto your stomach. His pointer and ring fingers slid up, spreading your lips open to let the tip of his cock sit at your entrance. He leaned down to just beside the shell of your ear.
“I wanna hear how bad you want it.”
You let out a near guttural groan at the statement. You were clenching around nothing just at his proximity.
“Oh c’mon, I can feel how bad she wants me.”
“Please, please I need your fucking cock.” You begged.
He smirked against your skin, “Good girl.” His hips moved forward, slowly pushing himself into you. You could feel yourself parting around him painfully, even with the prep you did. Your hips stiffened up not quite remembering how to take him. He took his time, carefully moving deeper inside you.
“Now tell me baby,” He hummed, dipping his fingers down between you. His fingertips slid around his girth to feel where you and he became one. You wondered if he could feel the burn that he was causing. “Has anyone else touched this pretty pussy while I’ve been gone?”
The question caught you off guard, quite literally the last thing you ever thought he’d ask you in this situation. Your eyes instinctively wanted to widen but you squeezed them shut instead. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you hoped he didn’t notice.
“Oh, c’mon now, be honest.” He teased in a patronizing tone.
You swallowed all the saliva left in your mouth and pressed your lips shut tight. You knew you couldn’t lie to him, especially not in such a vulnerable position. The truth was that you tried any and everything to get him out of your mind - which landed you some vices in your time apart. You and Nick weren’t anything of substance, nothing official. You were sure Nick had to know since it had come up previously and he never seemed phased by it – you knew about his tour hookups, how would this be any different. Regardless, you had no idea why he was even bringing it up and wished he wouldn’t.
He didn’t seem to like your silent pause and halted his movements. “If you don’t answer I’ll stop.” He threatened.
You groaned in frustration and threw your head down into the mattress. “Fine, fine,” You spat out in defeat. “Yes. One.”
“Hmm.” He stretched out the noise to emphasize his disbelief. “I think you’re a poor liar.” His fingers grazed over your clit briefly, just to remind you what you were missing. “Don’t lie to me baby, you won’t like the outcome.”
You sighed, feeling defeated and helpless beneath him. “Two.” It was the honest truth. One of them he knew about, a long-time casual friends with benefits. The other, was a drunken mistake from the bar on a particularly lonely night.
He sheathed himself fully inside you, “Yeah I can tell.” He said in a pointed tone, and it caused your brows to furrow, wondering what exactly he meant by that. “Oh, don’t worry I don’t mean it that way.” His fingers trailed down your side to hook into your hip, pulling you flush against him. “I can tell by the way you’re trying to adjust to me.” His voice was smooth and deep. “Like your body got too comfortable with something less than me.” His hips shifted back just to fall back into you, hitting you right in the spot that made your stomach twist. It was painful but delicious, reminding you exactly why you’d made this mistake with him so many times. “Or is that what you prefer now?”
You shook your head quickly, you didn’t want anything other than him, you never had. As rocky as your relationship had been, Nick was always the one who owned your heart. It never for one second had been held by anyone other than him in the past couple years. It was sad how loyal you were to him when it was obvious that he never felt the same – at least not in a committed way. “No.” You breathed out. “I want you, Nick.” You looked over your shoulder to meet his eyes and they were filled with something that felt almost like jealousy, but you’d never known Nicholas to be jealous. He’d always been very fluid about your connection – always very clear about the openness of your relationship.
“Say it again.” He demanded while his hands held your hips in place as he slammed back into you in one swift move. His tip landed straight into your cervix, causing a jolt of pain up your spine.
“I want you, Nick.” You repeated with a strained voice.
He finally began a slow rhythm in and out of you, almost like a reward for listening to him. He reached forward and grasped your chin to get you to look back at him again. “Again.”
Your brows knitted at his request – it seemed almost cruel for him to have you repeat the obvious. “I want you.” You whispered. Tears began to well up in your eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from your emotions or from the burn of him stretching you out. He squeezed your cheeks at the sight of your tears, silently asking you again. “I want you.” You squeaked out, trying to keep the tightness in your chest at bay. “I want you, I want you, I want you.” You repeated over and over, now letting tears flow freely down your cheeks. It bloomed an ache in your chest that you never wanted to feel in the middle of sex.
Suddenly, you felt him pull from you completely but before you got a chance to question it, he flipped you over onto your back. You were only vacant of him for a millisecond before he slid back into place between your legs. He hovered over you, his unraveled hair gathered onto one side of his head, brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever question that again.”
“I never did.” You admitted embarrassingly quick. “What’s this about?” You questioned, wondering why you were having this conversation while he was still inside you. Though, he was never one to choose an appropriate time to talk about things.
“I missed you.” He repeated his statement from earlier that you were too fucked out to process. His voice was raspy with lust, but genuine. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You blinked up at him and shook your head, not wanting to get caught up in his empty promises. “Can we just talk about this later?” Although, the moment had already been squandered for you.
“No.” He continued his slow and steady pace while his eyes were set on yours. “I mean it. I want this. I want us.”
Your eyes grew wide in disbelief. You’d never heard him sound so serious about anything, nonetheless about you. “You do?”
“I’ve been an idiot. All I wanted to do was come home to you.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “And the idea of someone else touching you makes me sick. I’m selfish. I want you all to myself. I want you to be mine.”
“I’ve always been yours, Nick.” You whispered with brows curved up in sincerity. Even with flings and vices your heart never beat for anyone else, you could never love another – no matter how stupid it made you look. You were stuck on him whether you liked it or not. You’d always been his even when he wasn’t yours, even when he wanted nothing to do with you.
His grey eyes shifted between your glossy eyes trying to read your honesty. He said nothing more before uniting your lips into the deepest kiss you’d ever felt. Love was a whisper lingering on your tongue, but you knew tonight wasn’t the night for that. Passion quickly spread from your heated kiss to the speed of his hips. His thrusts were fast and hard, though they weren’t fueled by a promise of an orgasm but rather by a need to show you exactly how he felt. Your entire body bounced against his rough repetitions, and it was overwhelming in the best way.
His head fell into your neck, his heavy breaths against your sensitive skin sent tingles across your body. “You’re taking me so well.” He muttered below your ear. His hand found your leg and ran his fingers beneath it, pulling it up from behind your knee and bending it towards you as far as it would allow. The new position spread you out even more and made sure you felt everything – the way the head of his cock embedded itself into your g-spot and the way your walls stretched around him. “Doesn’t that feel good baby, being so full?”
You let out a moan as your eyes rolled back. “Fuck yes.” It was the truth, no one ever filled you like he did.
“Uh-uh.” His hand grasped your cheeks. “Eyes on me.”
The sensations of everything were enough to fill your clit with buzzing need and you gasped when his thumb found it. Your eyes widened as he began rolling small circles into it in time with his quick pace.
“Oh-oh.” You stuttered out pathetically as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap already.
“Take your time baby, there’s no rush.” He soothed but it only accelerated your already impending orgasm. Your fingers curled into his arms harshly, surely hard enough to leave half-moon imprints into his skin. “Oh, I know, I know.” He comforted.
That’s all it took to unravel you. Tingly warmth spread across your body, making every inch of you feel blissful. It was enough to temporarily blind your vision as you got lost in the immense pleasure that was overtaking your entire being.
“That’s it angel, just like that. I want all of it.” He said softly below your ear, but it was clear with the shakiness of his own voice that he was close too.
His speed became rapid and erratic as he sensed you reaching the height of your peak. “Fuck.” He murmured into your neck as he slammed his hips into yours faster than you could process. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.”
All you did in response was cross your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. It didn’t take long for him to meet you in your climax. You felt his cock twitch and pulse inside of you followed by warmth pooling in the deepest part of you.
When the moment was over, Nick took his time, tenderly ensuring you were both clean and comfortable. Aftercare was something he never skipped, but tonight, he seemed especially patient and tender. Once he’d helped you into your favorite pajamas and made a warm cup of tea, he pulled you gently into his side.
“I’m sorry it took me so long.” he said, peering down at you with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You gave him a small knowing nod, too spent to say more. Curled against his side, a quiet apprehension settled over you, memories of past mistakes lingered softly at the edges of your mind. He was the last person you should trust, but your heart couldn’t summon the strength to turn him away. So, you chose to believe in him once more, silently hoping this time would be different and that his words were true. As he held you tighter than ever, your choice felt right. Finally, he was yours, and you were his.
A/N; thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts<3
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