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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months ago

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The Swell || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: S4 ep 4 scene but it’s Sofia’s perspective + abit more angst but still reader x Rafe no use of her name

Warnings: angst!!!!! Mention of dead baby turtles (?), Ruthie (yeh she deserves her own tw),

Word counts: 2,267

A/n: how could I not post on our my man’s bday 😣😔

MASTERLIST

Divider by @h-aewo

As you drive down the beach, the Pogues come into view, their carefree laughter and familiar presence tightening the knot of unease in your stomach. You glance at Rafe, silently hoping the car won’t stop near them, your thoughts spinning in quiet desperation. But when Topper's Jeep slows down and pulls to a halt right next to them, you shut your eyes for a brief moment, taking a sharp breath through your nose to steady yourself.

Rafe, ever attuned to your mood, notices the shift and squeezes your thigh, his touch firm and reassuring. “It’s fine,” he mutters, his voice low and confident, though the tension remains. You look down at his hand resting on your leg, a gesture that says more than words ever could. Rafe helps you down from Topper’s ridiculously raised Jeep, his grip steady as you hop down onto the sand.

The sun beats down, casting long shadows as you take in the scene around you—Topper and John B already in conversation, their words tinged with the familiar undercurrent of rivalry. The air feels thick, charged with a subtle tension that lingers in every glance exchanged between them.

You go through the motions, helping set up blankets and gear, though your attention keeps drifting back to Rafe. He’s sitting a few feet away, legs stretched out in front of him, gaze fixed on the surfers gliding across the water. His sunglasses hide most of his expression, but you can tell he’s watching intently, his mind elsewhere.

When you finally make your way over, he turns his head slightly, reaching for a towel and placing it beside him without a word. You settle down next to him, the sand beneath the towel still warm from the sun, and you let out a small sigh. "Hey, Rafe," you say softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.

Your gaze shifts to Sarah, longboard in hand as she walks out of the water, her eyes locked on her brother. A light smile tugs at your lips as you watch her, the hope in you flickering. "There’s Sarah," you continue, trying to sound upbeat. "Do you think she’d want to talk?" Rafe doesn’t respond right away. His eyes stay focused on the horizon, his expression unreadable.

After a beat, he finally looks towards Sarah, their eyes meeting across the sand. The moment stretches out, thick with everything they’re not saying. "No," Rafe says flatly, shaking his head. "She can come to me if she wants." His voice lacks emotion, as if he’s already resigned to the distance between them. He lifts his beer, taking a slow drink, his nonchalance masking something deeper. You nod in response, sighing softly.

You tried, but it’s not enough. It never seems to be enough. The next few minutes pass in quiet observation. You watch the surfers, your gaze following JJ and Topper as they glide across the water, their competitive nature apparent even in something as simple as catching a wave. JJ, always the wild card, edges too close to Topper and bumps him, sending Topper tumbling into the surf.

Rafe shifts beside you, sitting up a little straighter. "Hey! Blatant poach, man!" he calls out, his voice carrying over the beach, and you can’t help but smile. There’s something almost boyish in the way he yells, a rare glimpse of lightness in an otherwise heavy day. Your momentary smile fades when Ruthie’s piercing voice cuts through the air.

"What the hell was that?!" she shouts, her tone laced with irritation. You roll your eyes instinctively, already feeling the familiar annoyance settle in. Ruthie. She’s always been a thorn in your side, and she knows it. She thrives on it, always pushing just enough to get under your skin, but never enough to cross any real lines—at least not with Rafe around. She wasn’t stupid—she knew better than to challenge his authority, even though she could get away with nearly everything else.

JJ, still in the water, celebrates his small victory with a cocky grin, looking over at you both. Rafe’s response is swift, flipping him the middle finger without even blinking. JJ shrugs it off, giving a sheepish smile, and you laugh softly, shaking your head at the playful exchange. "I don’t know what JJ’s deal was," Kelce chimes in as he and Topper make their way back to the shade.

"That was bullshit, jumping in on you like that." His tone is casual, but there’s a slight edge to it, the kind that always lingers when someone feels disrespected. "Classic low-rent move," Topper agrees, brushing sand from his hair. Rafe’s snarky grin returns as he helps you up from the sand. "Surf violence is violence, man," he comments dryly, earning a chuckle from the group. But before the mood can lighten, the unmistakable sound of an engine revving catches your attention.

You glance over, spotting Ruthie now in the driver’s seat of Topper’s Jeep, her expression smug as she glances towards the Pogues. "Instead of whining about it," Ruthie cocks her head in their direction, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, "let’s drift. Give them a taste of their own medicine." Topper immediately shakes his head. "No, no. We’re not doing that," he says, his voice firm but calm. For all his bravado, Topper is often the most level-headed among them, the one willing to walk away from unnecessary drama.

You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, hoping the situation will diffuse. Ruthie, however, isn’t backing down. "Are you afraid?" she taunts, her tone condescending as she stares him down, tilting her head with a smirk. "I told them we’re gonna be cool," Topper says, shooting a glance at Kelce, as if looking for backup. "Yeah, but they jumped in on you, bro," Kelce replies, still riled up from the earlier incident. "They stomped all over our home base."

"Never knew you kooks owned the beach," you mutter under your breath, loud enough for Rafe to hear. He chuckles softly, glancing at you with an amused look. Ruthie, undeterred, turns her attention back to Kelce, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That doesn’t seem fair, does it? Are you cool with that, Kelce? It’s kind of sad, bro." "Pathetic," Ruthie adds, and a few others let out chuckles, their laughter only adding fuel to the tension.

Topper’s face tightens, his expression darkening as the tension between him and Ruthie reaches its peak. "What’d you say?" he snaps, his tone sharp with frustration, eyes narrowing at her. He’s clearly fed up with her antics, embarrassed as she goads him in front of their friends. The heated argument escalates quickly, Ruthie's biting comments cutting through the air like knives. Topper, red-faced and tense, tries to rein her in, but Ruthie only digs in further, her smirk never fading.

You lean into Rafe, resting your head against his broad back, arms loosely wrapped around his torso for comfort as you watch the scene unfold. It was horrifying but impossible to look away from. Ruthie, always the instigator, keeps pushing, her voice rising above the murmur of waves and laughter. She’s relentless, her eyes gleaming with reckless energy.

"Well, I’m about to buzz down there and show them whose beach this is," she declares, the wild determination in her tone sending a ripple of unease through the group. "You gonna make me go by myself?" You lift your head, casting a glance at Rafe, silently asking him to do something, anything. His eyes flicker with annoyance, but he doesn’t intervene, his usual detached demeanour firmly in place.

Topper, as much as he tries to keep some semblance of control, eventually gives in, rounding the Jeep and sliding into the passenger seat with a defeated huff. The sound of the engine revving cuts through the beach as they prepare for another display of immaturity. "This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch them speed off. Sand flies up behind the tires, scattering across the shoreline.

Rafe shrugs beside you, seemingly unbothered, his voice calm but clipped. "She’s just being Ruthie." "That’s not an excuse," you retort, sharper than you intended. "Is she fucking insane?" Your words are laced with disbelief as you scoff, eyes narrowing as the Jeep swerves wildly down the beach. Ruthie, clearly drunk on adrenaline, comes dangerously close to losing control.

You hold your breath as she veers sharply, missing the Pogues by mere inches. Your heart races in your chest, the tension in the air palpable. Rafe watches in silence, tipping his head back and taking a long swig from his beer, the bottle tilted lazily in his hand as if none of it phases him. You, on the other hand, can’t tear your eyes away from the scene. "Jesus Christ…" you mutter under your breath, jaw slack in shock. Suddenly, a splash of liquid flies through the air, dousing Kiara.

You watch as she recoils, visibly shocked and angry, while the Pogues gather around her, already shouting in response. The kooks around you jeer and laugh, their obnoxious behaviour only adding fuel to the fire. You roll your eyes, disgusted by the immaturity that surrounds you. How could they find this funny? Your gaze shifts back to Rafe, searching his face for any hint of how he’s feeling, but his expression remains unreadable.

His jaw tightens ever so slightly as he scratches his head, eyes flicking back and forth between the Jeep and the chaos Ruthie has left in her wake. Frustration bubbles in your chest — was he angry? Amused? He was impossible to read, and that drove you mad. You couldn’t stand his indifference, not when things had spiraled out of control. "You good with that?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but the irritation seeps through as you turn to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He doesn't respond immediately, which only adds fuel to the fire. His silence grates on you. Then, after Kiara and JJ confront Ruthie and she threatens to press charges over some meaningless provocation, your patience wears thin. You’ve had enough of the childish antics, the toxic energy swirling around the beach. It was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Not cool, Rafe," you say, your voice wavering with disappointment. There’s an ache in your chest, a familiar one that resurfaces whenever you feel let down by him. You want him to see how wrong all of this is, but instead, he shrugs and brushes past you, his focus only on grabbing another beer. His casual indifference feels like a slap in the face. "They deserved it, baby," he mutters as he opens the cooler.

His words make your blood boil. Deserved it? You can’t believe him. It’s like the two of you are on completely different wavelengths, and the divide between you feels wider than ever. Spinning around, you glare at him, anger and hurt flooding your system. "I want to leave," you say, voice firm, holding his gaze as he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing in challenge.

"Now!" you insist, your frustration bubbling over, leaving no room for negotiation. You’re done with the day, with the drama, with everything. Without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and start walking away, the sound of the waves crashing behind you drowned out by the pounding in your chest. You can feel his eyes on your back, the tension hanging thick in the air, but you don’t stop.

“Babe, hold on,” Rafe calls after you, his voice almost pleading, but you don’t slow down. You grab your beach bag, throwing it over your shoulder with more force than necessary, eyes fixed ahead. You refuse to let him see how upset you really are, not in front of Ruthie and Topper. Especially not when Ruthie’s wearing that smug smile, clearly enjoying the chaos she’s stirred up.

Your jaw clenches as you storm past them, feeling the weight of their judgment. Rafe’s footsteps grow louder behind you, his longer stride quickly closing the distance. "Just calm down," he mutters as he reaches out, his hand catching your elbow in an attempt to stop you. The touch is gentle, but it ignites the anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you immediately yank your arm away, shoving his hand off with a sharp motion.

He steps in front of you, blocking your path, his brows furrowing as he tries to read your expression. "That wasn’t fair, Rafe," you say quietly, your voice cutting through the space between you both. The frustration, disappointment, and anger you’ve been holding in all day spill over. "You saw what Ruthie did! How can you just stand there and act like it’s fine?" Your words come out sharper than you intended, but you’re past caring.

You need him to understand, to see how wrong it all is. Rafe’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze shifting momentarily to the ground before meeting yours again. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe—but it’s quickly replaced by defensiveness. "She’s Topper’s girlfriend," he snaps, his voice low and tight. "What do you want me to do? I can’t control what she does or doesn’t do."

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping back and shaking your head in disbelief. "So what? You’d rather watch her humiliate people instead? Watch her throw stuff at Kie like a child? Drive over those baby turtles?" Your voice rises, sharp and raw. "That’s what you’re okay with?" His jaw tightens as he scratches his head, avoiding your gaze. "It wasn’t that big of a deal," he mutters, but there’s something in the way he says it—a hint of guilt that he’s trying to bury under his indifference.

"Not that big of a deal?" You repeat, your voice thick with disbelief. "You know what she did was wrong, Rafe. I know you do. You just stood there and didn’t do a fucking thing." He sighs, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "You could’ve stood up for Kie, for anyone. But instead, you just stood there and let Ruthie act like a total psycho, and now you’re defending it?"

Rafe’s face hardens, but you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his gaze shifts uncomfortably. He knows. He knows what Ruthie did was messed up, and it infuriates you even more that he won’t admit it, that he’s hiding behind the excuse of not wanting to cause drama with Topper. "It wasn’t worth starting a fight over," he says, his voice tight, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "It’s not about starting a fight! It’s about doing the right thing! You just stood there, Rafe. You watched it happen, and you knew it was wrong, and you still did nothing!" His eyes flash with irritation, but underneath it, you can see the guilt he’s trying to bury. "Why are you making this about me?" he snaps, his voice defensive. "I didn’t tell her to do anything. It’s not my fault."

"No, but you watched it happen, and that’s just as bad!" Your voice cracks slightly, the frustration and hurt blending together. "You know Ruthie crossed a line. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have let it slide, but because it’s her, and because it’s Topper, you’re acting like it’s no big deal." Rafe clenches his jaw, his frustration evident, but there’s something more in his eyes now—regret, maybe.

He’s not used to being called out like this, not used to being the one who’s wrong. "What do you want me to say?" he mutters, his voice lower, less confident. "It’s not like I could’ve stopped her." Your heart races, and you shoot back, your voice steady but laced with heat. "You chose to stay silent, and that says more than any half-hearted excuse you could come up with. It's pathetic!”

As you confront him, he steps closer, a tangible tension crackling between you. His voice turns low and icy. "Watch it." The warning hangs in the air, but you refuse to back down. He exhales sharply, running both hands through his hair, a gesture of agitation that betrays the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "I don't want to fight with you over something like this," he insists, the frustration lacing his tone, making it tremble with barely contained irritation.

"It’s not worth it." You stare at him, incredulous, your heart racing as the anger you felt moments ago begins to dissolve, replaced by a deeper, simmering disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. It’s a familiar ache, one that stirs memories of past arguments where the same sentiments echoed in different words. "Not worth it?" you echo, your voice soft but laced with hurt. Your words hang in the air, and for a moment, you search his eyes, hoping to find a flicker of understanding.

But he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the sand beneath his feet, as if the grains can offer him some comfort. You see a flicker of doubt cross his features, and for an instant, you think he might actually admit it—might actually acknowledge the truth you’ve laid bare. But instead, he shrugs, a small, helpless gesture that only deepens the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to dismiss the weight of the situation, but it only leaves you feeling more isolated.

"That’s all you can say?" you press, hurt and disappointment lacing your tone again. "I don’t know what you want from me." "I want you to care," you say, your voice quieter now, the fight slowly draining out of you. "I want you to care enough to stand up for what’s right, not just for what’s easy. But I guess that’s too much to ask."

Rafe’s face flickers, something like guilt or frustration passing over his features, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, jaw clenched, the space between you filled with everything he won’t say. You shake your head, the disappointment settling in like a weight in your chest

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crushpunky · 3 months ago

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actress!reader and “big, bad boyfriend” drew

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

The leaves had just started to turn, a cool breeze blowing down the streets of Charleston. It wasn’t often the couple had the opportunity to spend a day out together, with everything from hectic schedules to heards of paparazzi, it always seemed like something was in the way. However, on the beautiful autumn day, the two of them decided to take Charleston out on a walk.

“God, I’ve been craving Claire’s.” Y/n sighed, peering up at Drew as they continued along the sidewalk, Charleston trotting excitedly in front of them. Both of them were “undercover”, baseball hats low and sunglasses on, hoping to not draw too much attention.

“We got it, what, four days ago?” Drew teased, holding open the door to the coffee shop. Y/n rolled her eyes with a laugh, stepping into the cafe before Drew followed her.

“Find a seat and I’ll get our order, yeah?” Drew said, pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple before handing off Charleston to her. Y/n wove through the people littered throughout the cafe before finding a table on the patio. She sat down, taking off her sunglasses as Charleston curled up by her feet. The familiar scent of coffee and pastries filled her nose, allowing her to sink further into her chair as she waited for Drew to finish up.

“Is this seat taken?” Y/n glanced up from her phone at the voice. A man with curly, blond hair smiled down at her.

“Oh, yeah my—”

“Aren’t you that actress? From that Netflix show, yeah?” The man interrupted her, pulling out the seat opposite her (Drew’s) before sitting down. Y/n could feel Charleston stirring at her feet as she sat up a little straighter, glancing back towards the cafe.

“Um, yeah.” Y/n chuckled nervously, flashing a practiced, PR smile at him.

“See, I didn’t recognize you ‘cause you usually got like… nothing on, y’know? Bikini and shit.” The guy said, leaning onto the table. She could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath as he eyes continued to scan over her in a way that made her want to scream.

“Oh, um, sure.” Y/n said shortly before glancing down at her lap.

“You’ve got, like, a crazy body—”

“Excuse me.” Y/n’s head shot up at the sound of Drew’s voice. He stood at the table, placing y/n’s coffee down in front of her, his gaze locked on the man sitting opposite her.

“Aww, shit man, I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, exactly, ‘you wasn’t’.” Drew said, his jaw clenched. Y/n could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Drew like this outside of character, a fire in his eye and his fists clenched. She reached out, running her hand along his arm before taking his hand.

“Can I at least get a picture with the lady?” The man slurred, shooting a sly smirk at y/n.

“Get out of here.” Drew said sharply, his tongue prodding at the side of his cheek.

“Drew.” Y/n whispered harshly, tugging on his arm as she glanced around. The patio was filled with people, people who inevitably had phones and cameras and wouldn’t hesitate to post about how “Netflix Star Freaks Out on Fan”.

“Don’t be like that—”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Drew said. The man got up quickly, sending the chair backwards as he stood against Drew, a solid head shorter than him. One look into Drew’s steely gaze, however, and the man scurried away. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, running her hands through her hair.

“Baby, are you alright? I’m sorry, I—” Drew crouched down, grabbing her face in his hands.

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Y/n whispered, nodding with a short grin before pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek. She wasn’t lying. While she had been scared when the man sat opposite her, the second Drew appeared she knew everything would be alright, because, whenever Drew was with her, she would be alright.

“Are you sure? We can go home if you need to.” Drew ran his thumb along her skin softly, his eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ve dealt with my fair share of assholes.” Y/n said again with a sip of her coffee before Drew settled into the seat opposite her. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, drinking their coffee and taking bites of the pastry Drew had gotten, just soaking in the beautiful, fall afternoon. She could see the guilt on his face, the thoughts swirling in his mind as they sat.

“Oh, Drewseph, my big, bad boyfriend.” Y/n said, reaching across the table to grab Drew’s hand, hoping to soothe his racing mind. He shook his head, his cheeks blushing underneath his baseball hat.

“I wasn’t expecting to nearly beat the shit out of someone today.” Drew sighed, a grin dancing on his lips.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you nearly beat the shit out of someone ever.” Y/n raised her eyebrows. It was true. Drew, unlike what his six-foot-two, intimidating demeanor might entail, was the biggest sweetheart… it was one of the things she loved so much about him. That scary-boyfriend exterior with that kind, loving interior always made her melt.

“Didn’t think I’d ever do that, but when I saw him it just…” Drew shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Drew Starkey, I love you.” Y/n said, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Y/n y/ln, I love you.” Drew said, kissing the back of her hand in return.

“I can’t lie, seeing you that… overprotective—” y/n leaned in, her voice dropping, “---was really, really hot.”

“Really?” Drew whispered, his eyebrow quirking up and smirk widening.

“Oh yeah, super.” Y/n bit her bottom lip before taking a slow sip of her coffee. Drew swallowed harshly, his gaze dropping to where y/n’s lips sucked on the straw before fluttering back to her eyes.

“I think we should go home now.” Drew said quietly.

“And why’s that?” Y/n teased, her cheeks warming under Drew’s sultry eye.

“I think you know why.” Drew grinned, pressing a kiss to her nose before standing up from the table and offering her his hand. She took it gladly, the two of them heading back home, Charleston in tow… maybe walking a little bit faster than they had on their way into town.

#drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey

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iid-smile · 1 month ago

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⭑ — YES or YES?

타올라, 타오른다

my heart burn, burn, burn !!

content — student!itoshi rin x student!reader, confession during a lesson (💀), shy rin, fluffy!!!

wc — 0.6k

dec 2nd ⭑ event masterlist — for the lovely @choccorin !

this lesson has been dragging on... but it's not as exhilarating since you're sat next to your study buddy, rin.

you doubt it's your influence, but rin's grades have been a lot better lately. more specifically, in the class where the two of you are seatmates. coincidence or not, he listens intently, notes down nearly every word you say (literally) and spends a lot of time studying, sometimes even waking you up late at night just to ask questions.

it makes you proud, like you've got your own little student.

unfortunately, his popularity is inevitable. your study sessions are always interrupted, whether it be random boys from the sports clubs, or random girls attempting to catch his attention. he never entertains such things, yet it still felt as if there was a major void between the two of you.

you hate liking such a pretty boy like him.

the silence between you two has been comfortable. finishing off one last word, you flip over to the next page, taking a small peek at his side of the table that has his notebook laid over it while you're at it. it's empty, aside from the date. you shouldn't be nosy, but usually, he'd have as much written down as you do — majority is due to his messy handwriting, but your point still stands.

under his book, you can see a small pink note; probably a confession from one of the girls at school. maybe he'd ask for your opinion on it, maybe he'll ask you if he should go for it. maybe... maybe—

he slides you the note. with hesitation, you unfold the paper, reading the words.

do you like me?

□ yes □ yes

right then and there, your heart was going to burst. you could feel bright pink fireworks erupting inside of you, an overwhelming heat surfing over you from head to toe. suddenly, your cheeks start to tingle and heat up, clammy hands, rapid breath and wide eyes. were you dreaming, or was this real?

you glance at rin, but coincidentally he was looking out the window. it's no coincidence, and the pink tinge on his ears was a telltale sign: he was confessing to you. you wanted to call out his name, to tug on his arm, ask him if this was true... but alas, you were still confined within your classroom.

fiddling with your pen, you act as if you were mulling over your options. there were only two— well, one. you haven't studied for any sort of multiple choice like this one, but the right answer should be very simple.

you tick both boxes.

quietly, you slide the note back, pressing your lips together to try to hide a shy grin. his reaction was subtle, but you could see it clear as day. the way his nose scrunches as he attempts to scowl rather than smile, the way he hesitates as he sits up a little straighter, who does he think he's fooling?

with your arm propped up on the desk, you lean on your palm, your words coming out muffled as your fingers rest over your mouth. "are you okay?" everything around you seems to mellow out, your classroom environment turning into a space with just the two of you.

his eyes are darting around everywhere. on the floor, on the seat in front of him, on his calculator, anything but you. "i have... heartburn." he muttered. heartburn. what a lie. little did you know, he was having a different sort of heartburn.

confidence can only last so long. now, the two of you are just sitting there in silence, both looking down at your hands and legs. too silent... just what do people say after being confessed to?

mustering up whatever you've got left, you hold out your pinky to him. "let's be honest with each other, okay?" you whisper. you feel a small tug on it, then another that scoots your chair closer to his. does he want your attention?

he does, apparently. only this time, rin's eyes were looking straight into yours, your pinkies still connected. his is way bigger than yours, you internally muse, but the realisation is scrapped as soon as he speaks to you.

"i like you."

he truly does make your heart feel all glittery. "i like you too."

#❆ | 360 bpm #ph timezone is like 8 hours ahead so im posting this early for u <3 #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #bllk rin #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin fluff #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x you #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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bleedingoptimism · 8 months ago

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“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy.

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing.

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt.

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him.

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times.

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling.

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again.

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him.

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he��s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!”

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes”

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better”

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,”

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.”

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie.

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him.

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.”

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely”

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end.

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after.

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?”

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #i wish i could come up with more innuendos for steve to drop and eddie to misunderstand cause it was tickling me #ya know i saw that post about the driver and i was inspired. if you are out there uber driver i hope you are okay <3

1K notes · View notes

earlysunshines · 13 days ago

Text

under the mistletoe

kim minji x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: your ex is going to be at your cousin's christmas party so you convince your super cute gorgeous amazing stupid idotic hot best friend to play girlfriend for the night--it should be fine, right? it's not like anything real will happen... right? right??

warnings: fake dating but there's like no angst bc they're too gay to be doing all that (i can't write angst idk) ; making out!!! HOORAY!!!!! ; nerd minji my lover ; they're so gay ; kinda fast paced ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread!!!

a/n: wanted to get winter themed fics out for all three before christmas but that prob won't happen LOL anyways this idea has been marinating in my head forever, enjoy!!! oh, and merry christmas!!

“i hate jake.”

minji looks away from her phone, one eyebrow raised as she watches you sink into the cushion even further. this is the third time you’ve groaned dramatically in the last five minutes.

“…jake is your cousin.” she points out, dryly.

“and the worst person on earth.” you mutter, setting your phone down beside you. minji watches you lean over until you flop against her with a very questionable posture. “he’s forcing me to go to his stupid christmas party.”

“and this is a problem because…?”

“because,” you huff, sitting up straight again. “my ex will be there. probably just to annoy me.”

minji immediately makes a face, scrunching her nose in disgust. “ugh, gross… didn’t she dump you for ‘personal growth’ and in that same month started dating a man?”

“i fear.” you reply, crossing your arms. “her egos so big that she probably thinks i’m miserable over her. i got over her the moment i found out she was with a man! she thinks im some stupid, emotionally immature—ugh.“

minji rolls her eyes. “i can’t believe you dated her—for four months.”

“not my brightest time.”

“it baffles me,” minji begins, “i hated her, you know?”

“oh, i know.” you glance at her, failing to hide a small smile despite your frustration. “you were not subtle about it.”

“well i wasn’t trying to be,” she says flatly, setting her phone down and looking at you properly. you peel yourself off her shoulder, moving yourself over to lay flat on your back your couch with one leg over minji’s lap. “so, what’s your plan? you can’t just go and let her get under your skin.”

you let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. “i don’t know. maybe i just… won’t go.”

“that’s an option,” minji starts, poking at the gingerbread man on your pajama pants mindlessly. “but jake will never shut up if you skip.”

“i know,” you groan, running your hands further up to grip at your hair out of frustration. “what do i even do? show up alone and let her pity me? she’s going to think i’m a loser—a bigger loser than the one she already makes up in her head.”

“you could just… not show up? make an excuse?”

“jake is pretentious—he’ll know i’m bluffing.”

“send him a fake screenshot of the thermometer showing that you have a high fever?”

“no, he’ll know.”

minji sighs, tilting her head as she studies you. “so what’s your plan then? cry in the corner? accidentally spill juice on her—or even worse—on yourself and hide in the bathroom?”

“you’re so mean to me.” you huff, sitting up and leaning against the opposite side of the couch now. you stare at minji for a bit, she’s looking at you with raised brows and a curious expression that makes you sit up straighter. “oh my god, i have a plan.”

minji immediately looks suspicious. “what kind of plan?”

“it involves you.”

“absolutely not.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet!” you kick her thigh, making her push your foot away. “just listen. you play my girlfriend for the night,” you say proudly, grinning at her like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

minji blinks. “what?”

“we date—not for real—for the party.”

she stares at you for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “you’re kidding me.”

“i’m not! think about it—it’s perfect. she’ll see me with you, someone way better than her, then she’ll get off my back, and i won’t have to spend the whole night dodging her.”

minji shakes her head, though there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck. “and why would i agree to this?”

“because you love me?” you say skeptically, giving her a stupid pout and your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “please, minji. you just have to stick with me and pretend to like me and plus–you’ll get free food and drinks. please?”

minji hesitates, poking at the gingerbread man on your pants again, the same one right over your shin. you tear your leg away from her, expecting an answer. “i don’t know…” she mumbles.

“i’ll treat you to dinner.” you add, which makes minji shoot her head up.

“dinner?”

“whatever you want.” you promise.

minji sighs, letting her head fall back against the couch. “fine. but only because i can’t stand her either—and i kind of feel bad for you.”

you barely let her finish the sentence before launching yourself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug with your arms around her shoulders. you’ve pushed her down a bit, she’s holding your weight, and her senses are overwhelmed from the scent of vanilla that clouds you and the warmth radiating off of your body.

“thank you!” you exclaim, your voice heavy with relief.

her hands hover awkwardly in the air for a moment before resting lightly on your back. “you’re welcome?”

it’s only then that you realize how close you are—your face inches from hers, your breath brushing against her lips. you can feel her tense beneath you, her gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again. her lips part ever so slightly, and the light press of her hand on your back falters.

the air shifts, something growing heavier on you two, but before you can dwell on it too long, minji gently pushes you off with a nervous laugh.

“y-you were crushing me,” she says, her cheeks tinged pink as she sits back, putting some space between you. “are you that happy that i agreed?”

“yes,” you grin, unable to stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re the best, seriously.”

“yeah, yeah,” she mutters, reaching for a pillow and chucking it at your head. “just don’t get used to it.”

you groan when the pillow hits you, grabbing it from her hands and leaping over to get her back. you two fight each other playfully on the couch, you even knock minji’s glasses off her nose. and through the bickering, your heart skips a little when she’s trapped one of your legs between both of hers, and you’re trying to defend yourself while pushing her off—hyperaware of the proximity.

maybe playing girlfriend for a bit won’t be too bad.

after getting dumped months ago, the first person you turned to was minji.

she didn’t hesitate. the moment she saw your glossy eyes, she pulled you into her arms, holding you close until you calmed down. that night, she didn’t hold back her thoughts about your awful ex, and you stayed over, letting her cook you breakfast the next morning.

you’ve always been good friends, spent a good amount of time together, but somehow, after that night your friendship felt different—deeper—after that.

since then, you’ve found comfort in each other, always finding reasons to be together thrown in with superficial insults. sometimes it’s quiet—her sitting on your couch while you fold laundry and hum along to something playing on your phone, or maybe it’s you at her place while she studies. even when she hates chores, minji pitches in without complaint, and you never question why.

then there are the little outings: a walk in the park, dropping off a package, or now: grocery shopping. it’s nothing extravagant, but somehow it always feels like enough. it’s always enough with her.

you and minji are strolling through the grocery store side by side. minji holds a small basket in her hand while you grab and toss random items in with little thought. she’s squinting at a list on her phone, her lips moving slightly as she mutters the items under her breath.

“i was thinking,” you begin, and minji looks up, quirking a brow.

“oh god.”

“you’re so mean to me.” you flick her shoulder before continuing. “if we’re going to be girlfriends, we need a solid backstory. something believable.”

minji grabs a jar of almond butter and tosses it in the basket. “you’re overthinking this.”

“no, i’m not. what if someone asks us how we got together? we need a solid story,” you argue, “and i know jake is going to be interrogating me as soon as i introduce you—or at least curious, maybe.”

minji sighs. “fine. how about… we were hanging out, just the two of us, and suddenly we just fell in love or something. we confessed while watching a romance film, maybe?”

“wow,” you giggle, “that’s so original. super romantic.”

“it’s simple and probably believable,” she says defensively, nudging you with her finger.

“it’s corny.” you tease, turning and stepping into the next aisle. “how about this: we were at a concert and locked eyes and—”

“that’s even worse.” minji groans, covering her face with her hand.

“i didn’t even finish!”

“exactly. it sounds like hyein made that up.” she snickers, “i can’t believe she’s also your cousin.”

“one cousin that probably won’t make it to the party,” you sigh in relief, “she’d blow the whole plan, knowing how we are.”

“what?” minji questions, curious as to what ‘we are’ is. before she can ask, you cut her thoughts off.

“we’ll go with your idea i guess. but we also have to spend lots of time together, more than we usually do, and we kind of just have to make it believable.”

“that’s nothing.”

“well i can’t really trust you on that, minji. you’re not the brightest.”

you two continue to bicker and poke at this whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal. as you head out to the checkout line, loading your items onto the conveyor belt, an elderly lady in front of you turns around, her eyes twinkling as she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple,” she says, her voice kind. “you compliment each other so well.”

both of you freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. you glance at minji, whose ears have turned a noticeable shade of red, and you can’t help but grin.

“uh, thank you.” minji mumbles, suddenly very interested in organizing the groceries.

you don’t correct the woman, instead leaning slightly closer to minji and whispering, “see? it’s already working.”

minji rolls her eyes and shoves you lightly with her shoulder, unable to hide her flustered expression. it’s different than her usual, calm demeanor, and you like it. it’s cute.

you laugh, nudging her back. “you’re kind of cute when you’re like that.”

“what?” minji asks, a lump forming in her throat. “you’re so… you’re so annoying.”

—

countdown: two weeks until the party

you’re doing your best not to think about having to drive almost forty-minutes south for jake’s stupid party at his stupid (-ly nice) house. instead, you’re at your usual cafe spot with hanni, danielle, and minji. the conversation is casual, filling the air, along with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

you’re mid-rant, your hands gesturing animatedly as you lean forward. “i’m just saying, if you’re going to take a lit class, at least try to understand the material. this guy skims a few pages of virginia woolf and pretends he’s a ‘feminist.’ he’s doing the absolute most to appeal to women—half that class is gay!”

“which guy was this again? there’s too many men you hate on.” hanni asks playfully, sipping on her latte.

“heeseung. oh my god,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “he’s so fake. he’ll throw out random quotes that barely connect to what we’re discussing, and the worst part? half the class buys it because he’s loud and confident. he doesn’t actually care about the themes or depth of anything. all heeseung does is show up to class, dress like some girls ‘dream man’ pinterest board, and plays pretend.”

danielle glances up with a small frown. “that’s frustrating. especially since you actually like the material.”

“exactly!” you say, stirring your straw around for no reason at all. “and don’t even get me started on how he turns every discussion into some weird way to hit on the girls in class. like, ‘oh, you’re so insightful. you must be really in touch with your emotions.’ oh my god i can’t stand straight men. i can’t stand people who enable them.”

minji chuckles quietly into her drink. the sound draws your attention, and for some reason, when your eyes meet hers, the air between you shifts. her gaze softens slightly, her lips quirking upward in a way that makes you stare a bit.

“he probably thinks he’s all that.” minji remarks, her voice steady but her gaze soft.

you falter for half a second, your rant losing steam. it’s not just the way she’s looking at you—it’s the way your chest tightens like someone tying a knot and tugging. it’s unexpected, and the way minji smiles down at her cup makes you feel all tingly inside. that’s odd. more than odd.

“yeah, exactly.” you quickly look away, ignoring whatever is making you do a double take. “he’s so one-dimensional, self-absorbed, and i hate him.”

minji bites back another smile, trying to keep her focus on her drink instead of the way you light up when you rant. she likes the way you talk, the furrow of your brows, the passion in your tone. she knows it’s a little dangerous, this quiet admiration she can’t seem to shake, the same admiration she pushed down your first semester. she’s gotten too good at keeping it to herself to lose now, and why now anyway?

hanni nudges you with her elbow. “at least he’s giving you plenty of material for complaints. maybe you could analyze him for an essay.”

you laugh, the sound warm and genuine.

minji’s stomach does a little flip—she wishes it wouldn’t.

“i’d seem like a fan,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’d rather focus on something—or someone—that actually matters.”

the words hang in the air for a second longer than intended, and your eyes dart back to minji’s. it’s fleeting, but there it is again—the strange flutter, like time paused just enough for something to stir.

minji looks away quickly, busying herself by looking out the window, and you clear your throat, turning your attention back to hanni and danielle.

the moment passes, but the undercurrent lingers. neither of you speak on it.

—

countdown: nine days until the party

minji’s apartment is chaos, but the adorable kind. her two-year-old nephew is currently standing on the couch, holding a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other, refusing to eat the carrot sticks minji had cut up for him.

“you’ll like it if you just try it,” minji sighs, sitting in front of him. he’s sitting on the couch, towering over her because of the level difference. it’s almost comical.

he shakes his head, lying flat on his back and ignoring her.

you lean against the kitchen counter, biting back a grin as minji sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of her nose. “you’re lucky you’re so cute,” she mutters, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of her bickering with a child. she pinches his cheek and adds, “otherwise i’d be less lenient, you troublemaker.”

“he’s kind of like you. stubborn… and cute.” you tease, muttering the last part to yourself. you pull out your phone to snap a picture, minji whirling around a moment too late after you capture the scene.

“aw, i’ve got to make this my wallpaper.” you laugh, walking over and sitting down next to her.

minji rolls her eyes, shoving you lightly. “is this for our ‘fake dating’ thing?”

you hadn’t thought about that; in fact, you forgot about it for a brief moment. “oh,” you begin, looking at her with a strange confusion in your heart. “well, no. i thought it was a cute… candid moment.”

“whatever.” she grumbles, but her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as she returns to negotiating with her nephew. “but send me that, please.”

…

lunchtime comes with fewer arguments, mostly because minji bribes the toddler with nuggets. the three of you end up at a cozy cafe, not too far from the one you frequent with your friends. the kid is perched in a high chair between you and minji, eating happily.

minji is effortlessly charming, coaxing him to eat some of the carrots she brought with her and laughing at the attempts of sentences that he babbles. her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that makes your heart feel a little too full.

you snap another picture when she’s not looking—minji leaning over to wipe ketchup off the kid’s cheek, her expression soft and so full of care it marks your chest ache.

“why are you smiling like an idiot?” she asks, catching you mid-photo.

“no reason,” you lie, slipping your phone into your pocket with a small, secret grin.

…

back at minji’s apartment, the liveliness dies down and reaches something still, something quieter. her nephew gets tired from the walking that occurred after lunch, so when you’re all back home he’s tucked under minji’s arm, clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s in a crewneck and grey sweatpants with two braids resting against the pillow her head is on, loose strands fraying out. she reaches over to drape the blanket over the two of them, and you watch from the door frame as you lean on it.

her eyes close from exhaustion, and that’s when you quietly grab the polaroid sitting on her shelf. it’s a spontaneous decision, but perfect for the moment. you turn it on, smile at the two, and press click. the flash catches you off guard, you’re afraid to wake them—but neither of them budge.

the photo prints out slowly, and once it’s fully spewed out you shake it in your hand so it can develop. it takes a moment to develop, but once it does, the smile on your face grows and stretches from ear to ear: minji’s face is relaxed, peaceful, and her nephew eunwoo is nestled against her with a similar expression. you slide the polaroid into the back of your phone case—just because.

as you turn to leave, minji stirs, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see you.

“stay,” she murmurs, her voice laced with sleep.

“minji,” you start, but she shifts a bit, making room for you while keeping eunwoo comfy. she pats an empty space beside her and grins tiredly.

“just for a little while,” she whispers, her eyes already closing again. “please?”

it’s the ‘please’ that does it. you hesitate only for a moment before stepping closer, your heart beating so loudly that if makes you wonder if she can hear it. climbing into the bed next to her, the mattress dips as you settle, minji instinctively drapes an arm over you, and it feels just right. the warmth of her so close is almost too much, but its perfect in a way you can’t bring yourself to think about twice.

you’ve always been fine with being touchy when it came to minji—lingering on the couch together, playful shoves, nudges, and maybe a limb or two resting on one another—but now? it’s much different. it’s easy to close your eyes and let yourself fall when she’s so close.

…

you wake up to the light outside fading, the room covered with the remnants of the sun shining through the window. minji is still beside you, her face turned toward yours, her breathing slow and even. her nephew is a small weight against her other side, pressed against her with the way her hand is angled and still clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s eyes flutter open just barely, and she looks at you like she’s still dreaming. there’s something unsaid in the way she gazes at you, something quiet and tender and a little overwhelming.

you don’t say anything, and neither does she. but the more the silence stretches on and with each slow blink she gives you while her lips form into another small smile—you realize you don’t want the moment to end.

she’s close, warm, and comfy—that’s minji. you realize it then as the sun continues to set, as your breaths are the only sound filling the room, and as minji absentmindedly strokes her thumb against your shoulder repeatedly that you wouldn’t mind being her real girlfriend. not if it meant being this close to her whenever you wanted and getting to love her on a different level.

the thought doesn’t scare you. it doesn’t feel rushed or strange or anything too overwhelming. it just is. the thought simply lingers in the air.

she shifts slightly, her arm moving over to rest on your back before pushing you closer to her. she lets out a content sigh as a full smile takes over. your heart flutters, and you smile back, just as soft.

eunwoo stirs, a little groan wakes both you and minji up a bit more. his voice breaks the moment as he mumbles something incoherent, and you see his little hand reaching over and squishing minji’s cheek in the process, even messing her braid up a bit more. you laugh at the sight and minji turns to him, brushing his hair back gently.

“time to wake up,” she murmurs lowly. “your mom might show up soon.”

the three of you wake up slowly, with minji being the first one to rub her eyes and sit up first. before she tends to her nephew, she glances at you with a strange new feeling in her eyes and it makes you think that maybe she feels the same way. maybe she wouldn’t mind if the agreement could stretch to new years and further. maybe she wouldn’t mind if it weren’t fake.

—

countdown: five days until the party.

minji stays near your side as you navigate the packed clothing store with her, hanni, and danielle. there’s a variety of t-shirts that you stop by so you can skim through, dresses that hanni and danielle consider buying for their sisters, and assortments of accessories that you all try on together, snapping pictures to add to your favorites folder.

“this is hideous,” you mutter, holding up a sweater that resembles a traffic cone but ten times more saturated.

“you should try it on,” minji insists with a smirk, already holding a ridiculous blazer with sequins lining it. “with this too. your ex won’t know what hit her, maybe the light will reflect off you and she’ll—”

“you think you’re so funny,” you narrow your eyes at her. “i can’t be the only one stealing the spotlight with my… hazardous outfit, can i? as my girlfriend you have to compliment me.” you grab the most outrageous pieces you can find—a neon, yellow turtleneck and pants that are somehow both plaid as they are glittery—then shove them into minji’s arms.

“so you want to play like that?” she grins, darting off to find something even worse.

hanni and danielle stand off to the side, watching the chaos unfold as you and minji start handing each other more and more ridiculous items for each other to try while giggling like middle schoolers. hanni’s shaking her head, her lips twitching into a smile. “they’re like an actual couple.”

“they really are.” danielle agrees, watching minji as she holds up a pair of fuzzy reindeer slippers and waves them at you like she’s found gold.

“you’re going to look amazing in these,” minji says, basically cackling.

“you’re going to look even better, babe,” you retort, putting a dramatically large hat on top of her head.

the entire store can probably hear you two laughing like idiots as you head into the dressing rooms, but neither of you care. and when you both step out, dressed head to toe in the most absurd clothing, hanni is the first to burst out laughing, immediately pulling her phone out and documenting everything. danielle hides her face behind her hands, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

minji steps out and winks at you. she’s clad in an oversized t-shirt that says “elf of the year” and the glitter, plaid hybrid pants you handed to her. she looks like an absolute idiot, and you figure this might be the moment you really fall for her.

“you look so stupid.” you laugh at her with an amused look on your face.

“you know,” hanni says between giggles, “if you two show up to the party like this, you’ll definitely convince everyone you’re together.”

danielle nods, her cheeks pink from laughter. “you’re already convincing enough.”

minji glances at you, her smile softening just a little. “maybe we’re overthinking the outfits,” she teases, but there’s something in her eyes that lingers longer than it should.

you shake it off. “maybe.” you say, your tone playful as you walk back into the dressing room.

“you’d still look good in that, though. you do now.” she replies, but her voice is quieter, as if she only wanted you to hear it.

instead of letting yourself get flustered, you roll your eyes and step inside the changing room, looking in the mirror to see a faint blush on your cheeks.

—

countdown: <24 hours

you’re curled up on the couch with minji since both of you have been much more comfortable with being this close. a movie plays in the background, her arm is wrapped around you, and a blanket covers your legs that tangle together. the movie is something light and easy—your pick, though you can’t seem to focus on the plot.

minji feels your leg tapping up and down subtly against her, notices your tongue poking at your cheek, and the way your fingers fidget with one another. she’s aware of everything, of course she is. she’s sitting close enough that you feel her shift toward you, her presence grounding but not enough to fully settle your nerves.

“you’re doing that thing again.” she says.

“what thing?” you mumble, avoiding her gaze.

“the thing where you’re silently spiraling, fidgeting, freaking out—the latter.” she says simply, turning to look at you. “what’s on your mind?”

you sigh, pausing the tap of your leg and fidgeting and everything else. you run a hand through your hair before letting your upper body go limp against the cushion of your couch and minji’s forearm. “the party… i feel like it’s going to go bad or something. my ex, she’s… she’s so unbearable and extra! she’s only invited because she’s friends with jake’s girlfriend and ugh i don’t even know if this whole plan is going to work out because she knows you and—”

“hey,” minji cuts you off gently, and before you can protest, she reaches out and places her hand on yours. her touch is warm, her thumbs brushing over your knuckles before she boldly moves her hand over to your face now, cupping your cheek. “it’ll be fine,” she assures, and her voice is so steady that you almost believe her.

you blink, your breath catches, then shivers when you breathe out as best as you can. she’s looking at you with her pretty brown eyes through the frames that make her look like a huge nerd while simultaneously the cutest person as well and—

“minji…” you start, her name leaving your lips before your brain can process it. your stomach is doing something stupid and fluttery, the tension crackles between you like wood in a fire, keeping you two in place, pulling you closer.

you flinch at the sound of the abrupt buzz of your phone beside you. it snaps the moment in two, making you glance away from her as reality takes over again. she pulls her hand back slowly, resting them back on your hand instead.

she leans back and lightly mumbles, “you should get that,” her voice quieter than before.

you reach for your phone, your chest tight and your mind racing as you answer it.

it’s jake. of course it’s jake. his voice on the other end barely registers, something about ‘you’re coming, right?’ and ‘don’t bail on me!” followed by a stupid chuckle. your thoughts are still stuck on minji, and you’re wondering if the tension in the air weighed her down just as it did to you.

the call drags on, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s staring at the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the movie, but her fingers fidget with the blanket. you can tell she’s just as thrown off as you are.

when you finally hang up, placing your phone back down beside you, minji looks over with a brow raised.

“jake,” you answer, even if she never asked anything. “he’s… yeah. just checking up on me.”

“right.” minji purses her lips.

you two sit awkwardly far from each other as the movie continues on, but eventually, you can’t take it anymore and return to your normal position. this time, your head rests on her shoulder comfortably, and your hands are intertwined. minji rubs her thumb against the back of your palm, and you think you could stay like this for hours.

–

countdown: finished!

minji parks the car and you take a deep breath in.

“relax, babe.” minji’s attempt at lightening the mood makes you smile softly. “we got this.”

“you sure?”

minji rolls her eyes, then takes your hand in hers as she does a rundown on your ‘relationship.’

“we’ve been friends for a while, i fell first but you’re the one who confessed first while we watched a romance movie—”

you cut her off, “and?”

“and after that we’ve been glued together by the hip. i know your likes and dislikes by default, um, our first date was… by the river? bike rides…?”

“you don’t sound certain.” you tease, “but you’re right.”

“whatever. and that’s it. everything else is just… our um, friendship.” minji’s voice dies down a bit when she says ‘friendship,’ the word articulates as if it were bitter on her tongue. “now let’s go.”

you and minji are side by side, her shoulder brushing against yours as you step through the door. music and scattered conversation are heard throughout the house, and you instinctively stick close to her. jake is the first to greet you, his grin wide as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“you made it!” he beams, then his eyes dart to minji. “and this is…?”

“this is minji,” you introduce, your tone casual while your thumb begins to scratch at your skin.

“minji,” jake repeats, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. “didn’t know you were dating anyone… you know she’s here— well, never mind that. guess we need some more time to catch up, huh?”

minji laughs softly, her hand lightly grazing your arm. “it’s a recent thing, few months.” she says firmly.

“yeah, kind of a surprise for us too. it happened out of nowhere, but i’m really happy.” you add with a shrug, trying to ignore the heat spreading up your neck. jake raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further, to your surprise, and waves you both inside before giving minji a friendly side hug.

the party is more crowded than you expected, a mix of familiar faces and strangers scattered throughout the house. it’s not really a family gathering, not with the way jake’s friends have taken over the kitchen and living room. he’s always had a thing with turning events, even familial, social.

you and minji linger close, navigating through the small groups with an ease that surprises even you. every so often, while you’re greeting some mutual friends, you catch her glancing at you, a smile tugging at her lips and something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.

“when you said your cousin was inviting you to a holiday party… i expected it to be very formal and family-like.” minji murmurs as the two of you settle on the couch in the living room, plates of food balanced on your laps.

“he invites the cousins that are older and are on good terms with him.” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly. “he likes things like this. but hey, he’s fun, and he knows how to grill.”

minji laughs, nudging your leg lightly with hers. the sound is soft and warm, cutting through the background noise and settling somewhere deep in your heart.

as the two of you eat, you find yourself leaning into her presence without thinking. her knee bumps against yours and neither of you moves away.

“i’ll grab us some more soda,” you say after a while, setting your empty plate on the table and standing.

“don’t get lost,” she teases, her smile lingering as you head toward the kitchen.

you glance back once, catching the way she watches you leave. it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make you feel like she really adores you.

…

cold air hits your face as you dig past cans of beer and bottles of wine while you shuffle through the fridge. you finally spot the sodas in the back and grab two coke zero’s, but the condensation already makes your hands feel slick and damp. as you shut the door, you hear someone clear their throat.

turning, you come face to face with her. it’s like being hit with a wave you didn’t see coming, but at the same time you were preparing for it. now that it hits you, it’s really chilling. her hair is a little different, her smile just as sharp, and she seems as pretentious as before. you’re surprisingly able to stay calm.

“hey,” you greet sweetly, forcing a casualness into your voice that you don’t feel.

she tilts her head, a little smirk forming. “hey, it’s been a while.”

“it has,” you reply, gripping the sodas just a little tighter.

before the conversation can turn into something messier, a guy steps up beside her. tall, charming, and really just a face that resembles all the guys that she would compliment while you two were dating. “this is yeonjun, my boyfriend.” she says, her words are slow and deliberate like shes shoved a nail into your skin and twisted it.

you smile tightly, nodding at him. “nice to meet you, i’m an old friend of hers.”

the air is heavy, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to falter. your hands are damp now, the condensation dripping from the cokes, and you’re wondering how to get out of this.

someone answers your prayers. a warm hand settles on your waist, grounding you instantly when the familiar warmth is recognized. then, soft lips press to your temple. your heart stutters in surprise and your brain malfunctions momentarily. you turn your head slightly, catching the familiar scent of minji’s floral perfume before you can even see her.

“hey, love,” love? that’s a new one, but you can’t say that you hate it—especially when it comes out so naturally from minji.

she reaches over to take one of the sodas from your hand and when you glance back over to your ex—it looks like someone just slapped her. “minji?”

minji smiles politely, her hand still resting at your waist, tugging at your waistband not so subtly. “yeah, nice to see you again. i was wondering what was taking y/n so long, i was getting thirsty.” she gives you a soft glance as she chuckles.

you manage to recover quickly, leaning into her touch. her presence fuels your words, “i was just catching up,” you explain, gesturing toward your ex. “oh, right—you remember minji, don’t you?” you pause for just the right amount of time before looking at her lovingly, adding, “she’s my girlfriend now.”

your ex blinks, surprise evident in her expression. “oh. wow. i didn’t know… you two were—”

“yeah,” you interrupt, turning toward minji with a grin you don’t have to fake. you can’t remember the last time you faked anything with her, really. “she’s amazing. i’m glad we’re together, she’s lovely.”

minji rolls her eyes before moving her hand up to your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “you’re doing that thing again.”

“what?” you question.

“being so fond,” she twirls a piece of your hair with her finger, “you’re too sweet to me.”

“because you’re my girlfriend, idiot.” you giggle right after that, and minji follows. “i’m not lying when i say all those things.”

minji smiles at you, something mellow and real in her eyes. you can tell she knows exactly what you’re thinking. her hand moves over to cup your cheek briefly before she uses it to open her can of soda. she glances back up at the pair in front of you, your ex and yeonjun, giving them an intimidating glare—directly mainly to your ex.

“we should get back, jake was asking about you.”

“was he? i guess we should…” you say, glancing at your ex one last time, her expression unreadable now. “it was nice seeing you again.”

minji steers you away, her presence steady and comforting as she leads you with her hand returning to your waist. you don’t miss the way your ex’s gaze lingers on the two of you, but that doesn’t cross your mind anymore. not when minji’s here, leaving you flustered and happier than you’ve ever been.

—

the living room is filled with laughter and conversation when you and minji step back inside. your cheeks are still warm from the cold air outside—or maybe from the conversation you just had, both of you had been reminiscing on how harsh minjis nephew eunwoo can be towards minji. her laugh lingers in your mind, and for a moment you almost forget where you are.

“there you two are!” jake’s voice cuts through the noise, and everyone turns toward you and minji as he gestures for you to join the group. “you’re just in time!”

but then you notice it—the small branch of green hanging above your heads: the mistletoe.

jake grins, wide and mischievous as if this were part of his plan. “looks like you two are under the mistletoe~” jake points out as if he’s a child.

the room quiets, and suddenly, every pair of eyes is on you and minji. your shoulders stiffen and minji’s hand brushes against yours.

you glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, her face flushed but calm. you’d stare for a moment longer, maybe tease her for how cute she looks, but you’re in the spotlight now. there’s something steady in her eyes, like she’s silently saying, it’s okay.

someone whistles, and the teasing murmers start, but they fade into the background when minji tilts her head slightly toward you, her voice low and gentle. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you shake your head, a small smile forming. “it’s fine,” you whisper back, “it’s just a kiss, right?”

she nods, her expression mirroring yours—reassuring, gentle, and maybe just a little nervous.

and then, without overthinking it, you both lean in. the kiss isn’t hurried or awkward—it’s soft and lingering, not too much but far from a quick peck. your hand brushes against her neck, and for a moment, everything kind of blurs except her.

when you pull back, the room erupts into cheers and coos of “aww,” but you barely hear them. your eyes are still locked on minji’s, her cheeks a shade of pink that you will definitely comment on later.

before you can process anything, her hand comes up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. she leans in again, this time pressing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. it’s a kiss that’s not influenced by the branch above you, a natural, instinctive kiss that makes your heart stop beating for a bit.

you both pull away, a silent realization settling between you. something’s changed. something you can’t quite name but can sense in her dilated pupils, slight bite of her lip, and bright smile.

“okay, okay, lovebirds. sorry about my cousin and her girlfriend,” jake jokes with a laugh, breaking the moment and taking all the attention off you two. “i just wanted to thank you all for coming.”

his words don’t process, in fact, you don’t really hear much of it because minji’s fingesr slip between yours, warm and steady. as jake continues talking, you glance down at your joined hands and then back at her.

you squeeze her hands lightly. the feeling is new, but it feels like it’s always been there. it feels good, it feels right.

…

once jake’s speech ends, you catch minji’s eye. there’s longing in her look, she’s asking a silent question and you have the answer. without a word, you grab her hand, weaving through the guests and slipping up the stairs unnoticed—they don’t know your cousin’s hosue like you do.

the hallway is dim, shadows playing on the walls as you pull her to a stop. before she can say anything, you turn, your hands finding her cheeks, and kiss her.

it’s different this time—no crowd and no stupid mistletoe hanging above. it’s just you two. you, and minji, with her lips are pressing against yours softly. she tastes sweet, warm, and familiar, and the way her hands rest under your jawline sends a shiver down your spine.

you pull her closer, hands moving down and pulling at the fabric of her shirt like you’re trying to stop yourself from losing your balance. her lips move against yours in harmony, in sync, and nothing else in the world matters except the two of you in that moment.

when you two finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily—from kissing so much and from utter shock. minji’s eyes search for yours in the darkness, her lips parting slightly as she catches her breath. “come on,” she murmurs, tugging your hand gently.

she pulls you into a nearby room, and you barely manage to glance around before realizing who’s room it is.

“minji,” you whisper, stifling a laugh, “this is jake’s room.”

“i could care less,” she cuts you off with another kiss. her lips are insistent, and her hands find your waist again, drawing you closer. “when i kiss you, i just— i can’t help but want to kiss you more and more and more and more.”

her confession is punctuated by kisses–soft, desperate, and consuming. you melt into her, your hands threading through her hair as you let her guide you toward the bed.

she’s nearly on top of you, her legs on either side of yours with he lips trailing to your jaw, then back to your lips.

“i want to be your real girlfriend,” she whispers nervously. “i want to kiss you like this, be with you, everything.”

you pause, cupping her face in your hands as you pull back just enough to meet her eyes. she looks at you, eyes lidded and vulnerable. your heart swells.

“i want to be your real girlfriend too,” you confess, using your thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “i think this is the best present i’ll ever get.”

she giggles before closing the distance again—instant, radiant, eager— and you can feel her smiling against your lips.

“should i put a bow on myself and lay under the tree?” she says when she pulls back, but just enough so your lips ghost each other. “to seal the deal.”

“you’re impossible.” you laugh, digging your fingers deeper into her scalp before pecking her quickly. “we should take this to the car… jake will kill me.”

“i think we can settle for a few more kisses.”

“is there a mistletoe constantly hovering over you?”

“no…” minji mutters, “but maybe we could steal the mistletoe and make it happen.”

you roll your eyes at her, but regardless you close the distance once more. and just when you think she can’t be more of an idiot—she proves you wrong.

“and you still owe me dinner, by the way.”

“whatever,” you mumble in adoration, “it’s a date.”

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #minji x reader #kim minji x reader #newjeans minji #kim minji

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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

Text

Like my father pt 2 {burb}

Sirius x Potter!Reader

An: Already writing part 3. This can also be read as a solo.

CW: Amos Diggory slander, not proof read, use of y/n, bad dates, just cheesy fluff,

Summary: Reader has a bad date and Sirius comes to the rescue

Wc: 2451

Part one Part three

“I genuinely can't believe you let her walk out that door with him.” James groaned from the love seat where Lily had found a perch in his lap.

It was just a few months after your graduation when you informed your family and co. that you were seeing someone. Someone four years older, Amos Diggory. James protested, Sirius protested, even your mother did. Didn't stop you from accepting his date invitation. Nor did it stop you from leaving to go out to eat with him either.

Lily rolled her eyes, gently nudging James with her elbow. “Oh, come off it, James. She’s not a child anymore. She can handle herself.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, every part of him was tense, despite how he played it cool. “Drop it, mate.”

James sat up straighter, glaring at Sirius with indignation. “Drop it? Are you serious? She’s going out with a guy who’s practically an adult! What if he tries something? You know how boys are at that age!”

“Yeah, he's one of them.” Remus muttered and took a sip of his tea, earning a smack from Sirius.

“Stop talking like she isn't old enough to make her own choices.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “She was bound to start dating eventually.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry! I mean.” James pointed at Sirius and then back at himself. “He's older than us. I don't like it.”

“Maybe he is, but she’s not going to be alone with him in a dark alley, James. They’re going to a restaurant,” Remus chimed in, giving an amused sigh. “Let her live a bit.”

“This conversation isn't happening again.” Lily groaned as she stood up, grabbing James by his hand. “We're going to bed.”

James looked up at Lily and squeezed her hand with an affectionate, hell, lovesick look. “Yes ma'am.”

“Whipped.” Sirius huffed and Remus gave him a look.

“Goodnight all.” James waved before he pointed at Sirius with a glare. “You're gonna lose her, mate. Get your shit together.”

Sirius flipped him off before he sunk back into his bed. Sighing threw his nose and sank into the couch.

“You can't ignore it forever, Sirius.” Remus muttered and Sirius gave a scoff.

“Oh, but I can. And I will. She trusts me, she likes me, she thinks I'm just the greatest. I'm okay with that.” Sirius sighed and Remus gave a huff.

“Sirius, if she likes this guy-”

“Then I'll be happy for her.” He interrupted and ran his fingers a bit more purposefully through his hair. “She'll find someone worth her time.”

“Ugh. Is this how it felt talking to me?” Remus mumbled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I'm nothing, Remus. I don't have a damn thing to offer her. Not even my name means more than hers.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re a good guy, and you care about her. That counts for something. She wouldn't care about anything else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough,” Sirius grumbled, his voice laced with frustration. “I’m just her brother’s best friend. Some couch surfer her parents pitied. I’m not what she needs. Not when she could have someone like Amos. He’s got it all; looks, charm, and a future ahead of him. What do I have? A knack for getting into trouble and a penchant for living on the edge?”

“Sirius,” Remus interjected firmly, leaning forward. “You know she doesn't think like that. You haven't even given her the choice.”

“But she so often picks the wrong one.” He groaned and Remus shook his head.

“Just think about it, mate. I'm going to bed, you coming?”

“No I uhm…” Sirius glanced at the window and bit his cheek. “Think ima stay up for her. You know, to lock up after her.”

Remus slowly smiled and nodded, dismissing himself.

~~~

Sirius was shocked awake by the sound of the house phone ringing. He hissed and rubbed his eyes, having fallen asleep on the couch.

He groaned, the muffled ringing echoing through the house as he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well past nine, when you should have been home. Who in their right mind was calling this late? He internally nagged himself for not being awake to welcome you home.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position he had been in. As he shuffled toward the kitchen, he could hear the phone ringing again, the sound almost piercing his ears. He reached the phone just as it stopped, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, it started ringing again.

“Ugh, bloody hell.” He muttered, picking up the receiver a bit more aggressively then needed. “Potter residence, what-”

“Sirius? Is that you?”

At the sound of your voice he almost toppled over. “Bambi? The hell? What are you still doing out?”

“Uhm.. dinner ran a bit later than I thought.” You whispered and you began to ring your fingers through the cord. “Would it.. would it be too much to ask you to come pick me up?”

Sirius thought about what you were asking for a moment, you didn't exactly sound thrilled to be there.

Not that he had to think about his answer for too long.

“Of course, bambi. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You sounded relieved, and Sirius could picture you visibly relaxing on the other end of the line.

He hung up the phone and quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, his mind racing with questions.

Sirius slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, he paused and quickly grabbed a pair of your sneakers before hurrying out.

It wasn't long before he got to the restaurant. Walking at night wasn't Sirius’s idea of fun, but the idea of you sounding so nervous and scared, he didn't even realize how fast he was moving. Some fancy place he was sure you'd never be found dead in. Even with your family’s status, you'd more often than not be found in diners.

He walked in, standing awkwardly at the waiting area. He peeked over the hostess stand, looking around the restraint curiously, only able to spot Amos sitting at a table alone. He furrowed his brow, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Turning around to see you, smiling up at him. The same smile you shot him when you headed out earlier tonight.

“Hey, little bug, what's going on?” His entire demeanor turned soft, and your smile faltered just a moment.

“I just wanna go home.” You whispered softly and Sirius took a glance back at the table, able to see Diggory looking around curiously.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, escorting you out of the restaurant to the grand stairs that lead to the sidewalk. He pointed down to the last few steps. “Sit.”

You huffed but did as you were told. Watching as he kneeled in front of you and took off your heels, replacing them with your sneakers.

You hugged yourself, the noodle strap dress doing very little to cut the cold. “Thank you, Siri…”

He sighed a bit at the nickname, standing up and taking your hand to help you up. “Did you call me all the way out here to ditch some boy?”

“Merlin, Siri, he's such a git.” You hissed and looped your arm around his. Clinging to what little warmth he gave off, as he began to lead you home.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding his thoughts. “What do you mean? What happened?”

You leaned into him a bit more, seeking comfort from the chill in the air and the whirlwind of emotions from the evening. Not used to the more casual treatment from men. Usually, being James Potter’s sister was a reminder enough for men to go above and beyond for your attention.

Given your brother was the boy who would dedicate his Quidditch Cup wins to his girlfriend or declare his love with obnoxious displays. Of course, {Y/N} Potter wouldn't entertain anything less. Seems Amos figured a pretty face was enough. “It started off fine, but then he just… I don’t know, he got too flirty and it felt really off. I thought I could handle it, but he just kept pushing. I felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make a scene.”

“Flirty how?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and steady, trying to gauge how serious the situation was. Debating on if it was worth running back in.

“He kept talking about how pretty I looked and how lucky he was to be with me.” You explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was nice. I mean, you know I like being flattered.”

“What? No. I would have never guessed.” Sirius mocked and you hit his side with a huff.

“Shut up!” You laughed lightly, but the tension in your voice betrayed your discomfort. “But then he started getting too personal, asking if I was a good kisser and if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. It just felt… wrong.”

Sirius felt a surge of anger course through him, and he tightened his grip on your arm as you walked together. “Did you tell him to back off?”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I did, but he just brushed it off and laughed. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just made up an excuse about needing to call you. It was the only way I could get out of there.”

“Good thinking.” He praised, his voice softening. “You did the right thing. You don’t have to put up with that kind of behavior from anyone, no matter how charming they might seem.”

You looked up at him, slowly your bottom lip began to quiver and he gave a surprised and panicked look. Before his expression slowly turned soft. “Oh, bambi.”

“I didn't like it.” You whispered, quickly lifting your free hand to dry your gathering tears. “It was my first date and I hated it.”

“Hey, hey.” He whispered and stopped walking. Lifting his hand to shoo away your own, using his thumb to dry your tears. “Hey, none of that, it wasn't your fault.”

“He was so gross.” You whined out and he tutted, pulling away as you took a shaky breath. “And his cologne smells awful.”

Sirius gave a startled chuckle and you slowly smiled up at him. “Smelt like a mix of cheap aftershave and desperation.” You added, a hint of laughter breaking through your earlier distress. He gave a louder laugh as he began to lead you back down the street.

“How cruel of you.” He chuckled and you shook your head, giving a small sniff. “How cruel of me? How cruel of him! I had to smell it all night, I'm the victim here.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at your determination to find humor in the situation despite how upset you had been moments earlier. “You’re absolutely right.”

You giggled, the sound warming Sirius’s heart. It was nice to see you lightening up, even if just a little. “I mean, really, if you’re going to wear something that strong, at least make sure it doesn’t smell like it came from the bargain bin. My dad has better smelling cologne and he actually gets it from the bargain bin.”

He shook his head. “Do you even know cologne? Is that even on your radar?”

“Well, no but.. I like my dads. And yours.” You hummed and leaned in closer, taking a small whiff of him before you scrunched up your nose. “Not this one. The green bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “The one I wore at Hogwarts?”

You laughed, your tension easing. “Definitely. It smells way better than what that git was wearing. You’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to swoon anyone tonight.” He hummed, his tone suddenly more serious as he looked down at you. “I’m just focused on getting you home safe.”

You met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and warmth filling your chest. “I appreciate that, Sirius. It means a lot to me.”

“Course. Next time you need a date, you just let me know, and I’ll screen them first,” Sirius offered, half-joking but also completely serious. “I’ll make sure they meet the ‘Sirius Standard.’”

You laughed. “The Sirius Standard? Oh please, I know how you treat your girls.”

“Not my girls. They aren't my girls.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You don't have girls anymore? You've changed, Black.”

“Who needs girls when I got you to look after? Too much work if you ask me.” He huffed and you slowly smiled, fiddling with the threads of his warn jacket.

You guys eased into a calm silence. It wasn't long until you were home, and he was lifting up his keys and kneeling down to take off your shoe. You gave a sleepy yawn, looking down as he stood infront of you.

He did a double take, noticing how you chewed your lip.

“What's on your mind, bambi?”

“Just.. boys. Is it weird, Siri? That I haven't dated yet?”

“What? Doll, is that why you went out with him?”

“... maybe. Just.. James got to me the other day. I haven't dated anyone, that can't be normal.”

He cooed and walked over to you, “It's not, but it's special. You know what you want. That's a good thing.”

You looked up at him, your expression thoughtful. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He affirmed confidently. “You’re not going to settle for just anyone. You’ll wait for someone who makes you feel safe and happy. That’s way more important than just dating for the sake of it.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Sirius. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That's my job, isn't it?” He grinned back at you, before lifting up his arms. “Come ‘er.”

You giggled and hurried over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don't go rushing into things, bams. You've got a lot of years to find someone.” He whispered against your hair and you absolutely melted into him. Not noticing as the stairs from the second floor creaked and James peaked down to look at Sirius. Giving him a smile and hurrying back upstairs.

“Siri?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Is it Grease?”

“... maybe.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #james potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius o black #Sirius x potter!reader #sirius black x potter!reader #James x sister!reader #james potter x sister!reader #jily #james x lily #amos diggory

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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago

Text

Tea, Cookies, and Love

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel takes care of his mate while she's on her period.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

@azrielappreciationweek

You hated being on your period.

Even after years, it was still hard to deal with the cramps and pain, so strong that most days you couldn’t even get out of bed. Instead, you curled up under the warm sheets, clutching a hot water bottle tightly over your aching tummy. It didn’t help much with the pain, but you liked the comfort it brought.

The door opened silently, and Azriel slipped inside. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a small plate with chocolate cookies in the other. “I made your tea, love,” he said quietly as you lifted your head from the pillow. “I know it doesn’t do much, but it’s better than nothing.”

You just frowned, watching as he set the plate and mug on the nightstand. The smell of ginger and peppermint reached your nose, but you didn’t touch the tea. You would likely burn your tongue if you took a sip now.

“I thought you were going to Rita’s,” you murmured.

“The others did,” Azriel confirmed. As he sat down next to you, a few tendrils of darkness wove through your hair, drawing a small smile from you even as you clenched the muscles in your stomach at the stabbing pain.

You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to work through the next cramp before you could ask, “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Azriel lifted a brow, visibly trying to hold back a smile. “You're really asking that?”

Sitting a bit straighter in bed, you nodded weakly as you reached for the mug. Even if you couldn't drink it yet, you could still savor its warmth in your hands.

“I'm not leaving you alone and in pain while I’m out having fun,” he stated. His voice was soft, but it carried that underlying determination that told you he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Yet, as he stood up and began undressing, you still tried, blowing over the hot tea. “I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to go with them, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, pulling on some sweatpants and a shirt. He turned to you with a smile. “But I don’t want to.” He climbed into bed next to you, slipping under the blanket and wrapping you in his arms. “No, I want to stay here and take care of my beautiful mate.”

A new warmth spread through your body, one that had nothing to do with the mug or the hot water bottle. You actually removed the latter from your stomach to place it on the nightstand instead, so that you could snuggle closer to Azriel.

“Don’t you need that?” he murmured, letting you move around to find a comfortable position. You settled for curling up against his strong chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Not really,” you answered in a whisper. You finally took a sip of the tea, and its pleasant taste filled your mouth, warming your throat as you swallowed. Hopefully, it would soothe your aches, but you knew how unlikely that was. “It’s not that hot anymore.”

“Do you want me to go heat it up again?”

You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. You shook your head slightly. “No, it’s fine. I just want you here.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” Azriel pressed a kiss to your temple, then draped his wings around you. “Whatever you need, my love.”

You wanted to answer, but you grimaced instead as another cramp twisted your gut. It felt like being ripped apart from the inside, and you almost spilled the tea while trying to find a position that would bring you some relief. Azriel’s broad hand covered your lower stomach, gently massaging the area to offer what little comfort he could.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I hate feeling like this too,” you mumbled once the pain settled, at least for the moment. You drank some more tea, and your eyes took in the chocolate cookies he had brought you. “Are those Elain’s cookies?”

Azriel nodded, his hand still drawing soothing circles on your stomach. “She made them this morning. I thought you might want some before they're all gone.”

“Gods, I love you,” you breathed. You turned your head just enough for your lips to brush against his, but you didn't kiss him yet. “You just make it so easy.”

Azriel's lips curled into an amused smile. “I love you too, beautiful. But what is it that I make easy?”

You set the mug down, cupping his face with your now-free hands. “Loving you, Az.” You finally kissed him, pouring all your feelings and gratitude into the kiss and down the bond. “You make it very easy to love you.”

You chuckled as a faint blush crept up his neck. “Thank you,” he murmured, “but I don't do anything special.”

“He doesn't do anything special, he says,” you scoffed playfully. You gave his cheek a kiss, then reached for the mug again and took another warm sip.

Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin and closed your eyes. Azriel held you tighter, cradling you against his body. As he opened his mouth to reply, you knew he was going to say that it was true and he didn't do anything special, so you beat him to it.

“For starters, you're here with me instead of out with our friends,” you pointed out. You didn't even open your eyes, instead simply listing all the reasons why he made you fall in love with him every day, all over again. “You made me tea even if I hadn't asked for it. You rub my aching belly. And you brought me Elain's cookies.”

“I just want to take care of you,” he said. His tone was soft, and he sounded as if he was defending himself and his choices. He really didn't see what was special about it. “And I know how much you like her cookies.”

You sighed quietly. You picked up a cookie, but even though you loved them, you didn't feel like eating anything right now. You'd save them for later, when the cramps would hopefully relent. So you offered it to him without a word.

Azriel took it, brows furrowed. “You want me to feed you?”

Your quiet chuckle was interrupted by a twinge of pain deep in your core, and you quickly disguised it by saying, “I want you to have it.”

He shook his head and handed the cookie back to you. “They're for you.”

“The others are for me. That one is for you.” You didn't even touch it, opting to simply sip from your mug again. “It's how bonds are accepted.”

“We accepted the bond years ago,” he mused. He didn't take a bite, instead waiting to see where you were going with this.

“I know.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. He was beautiful, and he was yours. Your love and your home. Your mate. Just as you were his. You knew he considered himself lucky to be with you, but he never realized you were the lucky one.

“Every day, I am beyond grateful that the Mother blessed me with you as my mate,” you murmured. A sudden lump formed in your throat, and you weren't sure if the tears prickling your eyes were caused by the hormones or the depth of your feelings for him. “And I want you to eat that cookie. Because I want you to know that I would choose you in every life, no matter what.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment, but you could see the swirling emotions in his hazel eyes. The love and care, the vulnerability he showed only to you. He slowly lifted the cookie to his lips and took a small bite, his eyes never leaving yours, your ache momentarily forgotten.

“I would choose you in every life too,” he said softly. “I would find you, and I would love you. In every life, every world.”

When you kissed again, the bond between your souls glowed stronger and brighter.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

#azrielappreciationweek2024 #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #fluff #fanfiction #azriel appreciation week

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childrenofcain-if · 17 days ago

Note

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

#‘aster’ is taken from the greek word for star #it can also mean flower but i thought star was more appropriate #i love writing domesticity as well #not very adept at writing child characters tho but i’ll get there eventually #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #twine wip #ro: c lacroix #ro scenarios

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megalony · 6 months ago

Text

Family Matters- Part 2

This is the follow up to my first Jim Street imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all enjoy this next one.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

@twilightlover2007 @morningstar09 @emperorluciusv

Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: When Jim's mum is out on parole and comes to live with him and (Y/n), she does whatever she can to hurt (Y/n) and come between them. And it puts (Y/n) and her unborn baby at risk.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim bound (Y/n)'s hand in between his, tangling their fingers together as he brought their entwined hands up to press against his mouth. His lips smothered her fingers and his hot, shallow breaths fanned against her skin.

Both knees started to bounce up and down, jostling his elbows that were digging deep into his thighs that were aching and turning numb.

Every swerve of the ambulance had Jim knocking shoulders with Chris or banging his back against the wall, but he paid it no mind. His focus was entirely on his wife.

He couldn't look away from her. His eyes travelled up and down her frame hundreds and hundreds of times, unsure where to look or what to do with himself other than hold her hand to prove to her that he was here. She had been unconscious when he and the team got to her, (Y/n) didn't know Jim was here with her or that he was watching over her. He didn't want to let go of her hand, he wanted to try and comfort her in any way he could.

He could feel Chris gliding her hand up and down his back every now and then, trying to console him and give him some sort of comfort.

"S-she's moving." Jim lifted his head to look at the paramedic sat on his left at the top of the gurney.

Panic and anticipation flooded Jim's veins and he sat up a bit straighter as adrenaline pooled in his stomach. Since (Y/n)'s fall, she hadn't moved an inch or made a sound, she had been fully unconscious when even the paramedics arrived and tried to rouse her.

But Jim was sure he could feel her fingers twitching in his hand and trying to grip him.

He sat forward, brushing his knees against the side of the gurney while he moved one hand to cup the side of (Y/n)'s jaw. He tried not to nudge or move the oxygen mask strapped over her mouth and nose and his jaw dropped, letting out a breathless sound when (Y/n) lifted her other arm.

Her hand was shaking and her arm was floppy, but her fingers brushed against his arm before she dropped her arm down on her chest, too groggy and out of it to properly move about yet.

"J-Jimmy," (Y/n)'s voice was croaky and her breaths turned into wheezes but she managed to squeeze his hand to try and check that it was him.

"It's me, I'm here baby." He brushed his thumb across the side of her cheek and leaned over until he could peck her temple. Her skin was burning against his wet lips and it made him shiver.

He watched her eyelids flutter, but she could barely open them before they squeezed shut and a grumble gurgled at the back of her throat. Her hand moved again and Jim bit the corner of his lip when (Y/n) tried to move the oxygen mask. He gently squeezed her fingers and moved the mask so it was back covering her nose again.

"You need that on, baby. We're nearly at the hospital."

"We're here now." Chris reached out and gently rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm when she felt the ambulance pull up to a stop.

Jim kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand while the medics moved the gurney, but he was surprised when they stepped down to find the rest of the team just pulling up.

Deacon was just pulling up in the closest space he could find, Luca riding shotgun with him. And Hondo was already up and out of his car. Shivers ran up and down Jim's spine and he felt his blood run cold when he looked at who climbed out of Hondo's car next.

Karen.

They had brought her. Of course they did, they didn't want to leave her at the house and risk her taking off because they all knew what she had done. Hondo couldn't let her out of his sight. They needed to find out exactly what happened and they would have to call Karen's support officer and then call the police after this. If Karen tried to run off, they would have to issue out a warrent for her arrest and that would be much more effort than it was worth.

Still, Jim didn't want her here. He wanted his mother as far away from his wife as possible. She had caused this. She had hurt his wife and unborn daughter, she could have caused an unknown amount of damage today and just looking at his mother was reducing him to angered tremors.

One of the medics patted Jim's shoulder and uttered a soft "This way," which brought him back to reality.

He nodded, watching Chris stay as close to the gurney as she could, following them all inside through the medic's entrance into the emergency room. They followed down the corridor and into the assessment unit where a doctor was stood, ushering them into a vacant cubicle.

Jim's hand felt cold and lifeless when he had to let go of (Y/n). He bound both hands together behind his head, sticking his elbows out at the sides to try and encourage his chest to take deeper breaths and allow enough oxygen around his body.

His eyes followed the medics, leaning over them to watch carefully as they transferred (Y/n) from the gurney onto the bed. But she was writhing around, moving her hands like she was trying to hit them away weakly and as soon as they removed the oxygen mask she took a deep breath like she had been drowning.

"Jim…"

"I'm still here, hey I'm here." He weaved around the medics to reach out for (Y/n) when her hand wavered at her side, desperately trying to find him. When she muttered something, he crouched down beside the bed, pecking her cheek as he did so. "What did you say?" He murmured softly, brushing his free hand through her hair.

(Y/n) managed to open her eyes, but they instantly rolled to the back of her head and she coiled both arms to her stomach, pulling Jim's hand with her.

"F-feel sick."

"Here." Chris handed a cardboard sick bowl out to Jim while the doctor and nurse who entered the room both moved to stand behind (Y/n). They carefully eased her onto her right side and helped her flop her head forward just in time to throw up.

Jim bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes, trying to ward off his own sickness when he heard the paramedics informing the doctor of the situation. He heard "Fetal heartbeat was low," and his stomach clenched, threatening to throw up his lunch or make him pass out.

That was his daughter they were talking about. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing his baby girl, not now.

"Let's get you more comfortable, (Y/n), and we can do an ultrasound."

Jim pushed up to his feet again and regrettably let go of (Y/n)'s hand so the nurse and doctor could move her. They eased her onto her back and tilted the bed up at an angle to get her sitting upright in case she was going to be sick again.

It took a few minutes to get the monitoring stickers on her chest to check her own heartbeat and the oxygen clip on her finger. Once she was sorted and the ultrasound was ready, Jim moved back to stand beside the bed while Chris headed out into the hall. She didn't want to intrude and she needed to find the rest of the team and sit with them. It would be better to let the couple have a few moments to themselves and do this alone.

"How far along are you, roughly?" The doctor looked across at Jim while she set up the sonogram and gently rolled (Y/n)'s shirt so it was tucked beneath her bra.

"Twenty-six weeks." Jim's voice came out oddly quiet and he swallowed harshly, trying to gather his senses and keep some sort of control.

His right hand clamped down around (Y/n)'s hand which he brought up to press into his chest while his left arm bound tight around his torso like he was trying to give himself a reassuring hug. His weight shifted from foot to foot butw1 the moment the sonogram pressed down on (Y/n)'s stomach, Jim wanted to be sick.

What if there was no heartbeat? What if there was something wrong with their little girl? What if they needed an emergency C-section? Their baby would need too be in the neonatal unit in intensive care, she could have any number of problems or she might not make it if she had to be born now.

Both his eyes closed and he tilted his chin down into his chest, leaning from one side to the other as he started to hum the seconds away.

"Heartbeat is still low," The doctor's voice was oddly quiet, but her words sent jolts running through Jim's heart.

There was still a heartbeat. His daughter still had a chance.

"The placenta has moved down which isn't good, but there's still good blood supply in the cord and to the baby. We can work with that and get something to even out baby's heartbeat."

That was good. The baby herself hadn't moved down, she hadn't twisted into an awkward position or moved down to indicate that (Y/n) might go into labour. The blood supply was still in tact and keeping her alive. An abruption was okay, they could deal with that and work with this to try and make sure (Y/n) and the baby were both okay over the next few weeks.

"We can give (Y/n) something now, and then I'd like to send her up for an MRI, check for any swelling or bleeding."

Jim didn't like the sound of that. What if there was anything wrong? Would (Y/n) need surgery? Would that put their daughter in more danger? Were they both going to be okay?

***

"What have I done?" Tears rolled down Jim's face while his hands clasped together in his lap between his thighs.

He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, biting down harsh enough to feel droplets of blood sizzling on his tongue, causing a curdling taste in his mouth.

He felt a hand slowly rub across his back and he lowered his head down to hang near his thighs. Both eyes snapped tightly closed and he tried to take deep breaths, but his body was being reduced to shakes and he didn't know what to do with himself. He was never very good at waiting.

Jim didn't know what to do with himself when he didn't have a task at hand, he liked to be busy. Being useless like this made Jim restless and he began counting the seconds ticking by on the clock.

"Street, you couldn't have known-"

"She told me." His head snapped up and he looked across at Deacon who pursed his lips and stayed quiet. "She- she told me she didn't feel safe and I… I tried to wish it away. I fucked it all up. I let her stay."

He tried to pray. He prayed that this was all just tension between his wife and mother and that the dust would soon settle. He prayed that he could find a flat nearby for his mum and that once she moved in, everything would be better. He wanted to have his mum nearby and get back the relationship that had been ruined when she went to prison.

Jim wanted his mum in his life, but all she had done was wreck every chance he had. She embroiled him into the plot to kill his father and tried to get him to lie for her. She guilt tripped him every time she was in prison and she did something wrong. She made him feel so guilty when she was being released and he tried to get her to find a flat of her own.

He let her bustle her way into their lives and he didn't put his foot down or take his wife seriously. And now that had endangered his wife and their little girl. His family.

"You tried to do right by your mum, Street. Any of us would have done that." Hondo leaned forward, but Jim wouldn't meet his gaze.

They all understood Jim's want and need to have his mum close, to try and patch up their relationship. He wanted to help her get her life back together and he wanted to maintain the little family he still had. They all thought it was very loving of Jim to let his mum into his home and try to help her get a job and find her a flat of her own. He did everything he could for his mum, it was Karen who was in the wrong.

"But I- all the things she did, I didn't believe them."

"W-what things?" Luca tilted his head to one side and looked over at Jim with a perplexed look.

"She hid things. (Y/n) said," Jim tilted his head back and tried to sit up straight to gather his thoughts. "She said things went missing, the baby stuff (Y/n) bought, her work notes… her old blanket, it- it was cut up and frayed, (Y/n) was so upset."

"She hid the baby clothes?"

Jim's eyes darted around the waiting room for what felt like the hundredth time, but he already knew his mum wasn't sat here with them. She was in the corridor. She wasn't straying far because she wanted to talk to Jim and she was waiting around until he found the will power to face her and talk about what she'd done.

"Only the ones (Y/n) bought." Jim could see it all making sense now. He could see everything clearly now he was taking a step back and looking from a new angle.

All the clothes and the bibs and the toys (Y/n) had accumilated, they were all missing. Jim could see that, he had seen all the clothes the team donated were still in the drawers or folded neatly in the nursery. He had seen how crushed (Y/n) had been and how she overworked herself when she found her notebook in the bin.

And Jim knew, he knew deep down that his mum must have cut up (Y/n)'s blanket. Because trapping it in a drawer might fray it, but it wouldn't cut the wool so precisely or unravel over half the blanket which had been an old keepsake they wanted to hand down to their daughter.

Jim should have listened then. He should have listened to his wife and done right by her. She wouldn't be hurt and in turmoil now along with their daughter if Jim had done something about his mum sooner.

"The important thing now is that we got there in time. For (Y/n). We were lucky." Chris was right. They had turned up at the right time. A few seconds earlier might have been preferred, but they had gotten there in time to help (Y/n) and get her to the hospital.

Any later and Karen could have done something. She could have moved (Y/n) to try and make it seem like a fall, she could have hurt (Y/n) further by trying to move her and disguise what happened. Waiting could have caused (Y/n) to have internal bleeding or any number of problems with the baby. They could have lost the baby if the team got there any later.

"Mr Street?"

Jim startled up from his chair so fast it scraped back against the wall and he lost his footing.

His sweating palms ran up and down his thighs as he weaved through the team to reach the doctor he had spoken to earlier. The staff had been kind enough to let the team stay in this waiting room right between the MRI unit and the X-ray ward. They had waited little over half an hour for (Y/n) to have a scan and they were hoping she wouldn't have to go for a CT scan or they would have to wait even longer.

But none of the team were about to leave. Cortez had given them the all clear to stay with Jim and make sure he and (Y/n) were alright. She had put Mumford's team on standby so if any emergency came in, they would be called instead of Hondo's team.

"Is she okay?" His hands moved round to tuck into his back pockets while he jutted one knee forward and levelled his weight on his back foot. He wasn't sure he was ready for the answers.

"No bleeding or swelling on the brain, the scan was clear."

"Oh, thank you."

"We've admitted your wife onto a ward for observation, we can't release her until her BP settles and the baby's heartbeat evens out."

Jim had such a horrid feeling that (Y/n) would have had swelling on or around her brain and would of needed surgery to relieve the pressure. Or he had imaginings of her having a mass bleed somewhere in her body that they would have to operate to sort out.

"Will the baby be okay?" Telling Jim that there was a heartbeat was all well and good, but no one had said if there would be any further complications or problems they would have to overcome.

"Your wife will need to be on bed rest and weekly check ups, but as long as the placenta doesn't move any further and she loses no fluids, we expect her to be okay. And we will have a plan in place, as she is more susceptible to premature labour now. If you'd like to follow me, she's asking for you."

That was good. Early labour was something they could deal with and prepare for in case it happened. And bed rest was something Jim would make sure to enforce and he knew the team would be more than happy to keep an eye on (Y/n) and come round to check on her when they could. They would all make sure she took things easy and didn't overdo anything.

He turned to look over his shoulder and nodded at the team who all beamed smiles back at him. They could see the relief in his eyes and that meant good news.

Jim followed the doctor down the corridor with the team trailing behind him until he headed into the room. The team filled up the next waiting room, they would hang around and go to see (Y/n) afterwards if she was up to a few more visitors. But they knew Jim needed a few minutes alone with her first.

Tears welled up in his eyes when he sped into the room and shut the door behind him.

(Y/n) looked a bit better, she was more lively at least. Part of Jim had expected her to be groggy or unconscious.

But there she was, sitting up in the middle of the bed, changed into a hospital gown. He could see her feet tapping against the mattress and her hands were scratching up and down the cover, but the moment she locked her eyes on him, tears were falling down her cheeks.

Her arms stretched out in his direction until Jim swerved round the bed and slumped down beside her thigh. His arms bound around her waist, trying to be careful but he couldn't help how tightly he squeezed (Y/n) into his chest. His hands splayed out on her back and his face nuzzled into her neck causing her to shiver.

(Y/n) looped her shaking arms around Jim's neck and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She leaned into him as much as she could, shivering again when she felt wet, open-mouthed kisses peppering up and down the side of her neck.

She still felt sick, and all the noise in the MRI had sent her head pounding and made her feel like a boombox. But she felt better than she had when she arrived. She was more lucid now, at least, which was probably due to the morphine they had given her and the fluids that had perked her up. Although (Y/n) still felt weary and when she blinked, her eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open.

"How do you feel, baby?"

"Rough." When Jim pulled back, (Y/n) rested her cheek on his shoulder and loosened her arms from his neck so she could scrunch his shirt up in her hands.

"Baby… do you remember what happened?" He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know if (Y/n) knew what had happened. If she did, then she could tell Jim exactly what had gone on, he might not have to argue with his mother so much. Or he might have to be a lot harsher with her, depending on what his wife told him.

A shudder crept down (Y/n)'s spine and she clutched Jim's shirt tighter while she felt him kiss the top of her head. He was muttering something into her hair, but she couldn't work out what he was saying.

"Y-your mum… she was angry, about the flat hunting. She said it was my fault, I was t-turning you against her."

"Christ." Jim tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling while his arms tightened around (Y/n).

He stayed tense and still, letting (Y/n) shuffle closer and wedge herself between his legs. She cuddled up into his chest while Jim began to glide his hand up and down her arm.

"What did she do?"

"I just remember her screaming a-as she followed me." Everything was jumbled. (Y/n) couldn't see things clearly, but she could hear Karen screeching in her ear and yelling as (Y/n) tried to get away from her. She remembered leaving the nursery she had been tidying, and feeling Karen reaching out for her.

But after that, everything was mushed. She could see Jim hovering over her. She could feel hands all reaching out for her and moving her and taking her out of her home. Loud noises. Sirens. Raised voices. A rocky, tumbling journey. Being sick. Moving from room to room until she finally woke up in the MRI machine and having to be calmed down from a panic attack so the scan could continue.

"Is she okay?" (Y/n) shakily held Jim's wrist and moved his hand from her arm to cup the underside of her stomach. No one had told her properly what was going on with the baby. All the nurse said was that the baby had to be okay for her to be cleared for a scan.

"A bit distressed, but our girl's gonna be just fine. And you need to be on bed rest."

(Y/n) groaned quietly but she felt Jim chuckling into her hair and peppering more kisses against her temple.

"I'm gonna look after you, and my mum's not coming anywhere near you again. Either of you."

***

A sigh built up in the back of Jim's throat when he looked around the waiting room.

She was still here.

Part of him thought his mum would make herself scarce. He thought she would hurry off to avoid confrontation and the argument that was ultimately going to happen sooner or later. But she had stuck around. She clearly thought she could sway the conversation and win him back over. As if.

"You can all go say hi, if you want." He pressed his shoulders back into the wall with one foot against the wall for balance and both arms crossed over his chest.

He managed a smile and nodded at the team when they all jumped to their feet, eager to go and see (Y/n) and ask how she was for themselves. They followed single file into the room, patting Jim's shoulder on their way past. But his mum remained seated, she seemed to understand that the invitation didn't extend to her.

The moment the door shut behind Hondo, Karen was up on her feet. She hurried over to Jim with the saddest smile he had ever seen on her lips and panic bubbling up in her dark eyes.

He noticed the way she was biting down on her lower lip and itching from foot to foot, unsure what to do with herself. When her hands reached out for him and she curled her hands around his arms, he didn't give in like he usually would. He didn't let her unfold his arms and wrap him up in a hug. He stayed tense, pushed back into the wall with a cold, stern expression that had Karen shivering on the spot.

"Are you okay, honey?"

Her words made him laugh inwardly. His shoulders tensed up and his eyes rolled to the back of his head while his lips curved into a sinister smirk. Did he look like he was okay? Did she honestly expect him to be okay after what she'd done today?

"No."

"Well, well they're going to be okay, aren't they?" It was almost as if Karen believed that Jim should snap back to the way he had been before today. That he should smile and pretend everything was okay and ignore the fact that his mum had hurt his family without regret.

"Do you really care?"

"Why would you say that?" Her hands squeezed his arms and it infuriated him even more.

Jim pushed his arms forward so his mum would let go of him and he took a few steps away from the wall that had been propping him up. His hands fell to his hips and he sighed, tilting his head to one side as exhaustion overcame him.

"Because you never made any effort to get along with (Y/n). You made her feel horrible, you hid things and binned her work. And I- I was so, so happy to tell you that we're having a baby. I thought you'd be excited for me, fuck, I thought you'd want this for me, for us."

He had never told anyone how deeply it cut him that his mum hadn't been happy for him. The team had been happier that Jim was going to be a dad than his own mother, and that wounded him.

He wished it was different. Jim wanted to tell his mum and see her cry with happiness. He wanted her to try and be involved, to help with baby names and smile at the nursery and want to be involved with her one and only grandchild. But all he got off her was resentment, fake smiles and uninterested nods when he tried to talk about the baby.

"I am excited for you-"

"No you're not. I could of lost my daughter today, and you haven't shown any fear or sympathy at all."

His shoulders slumped and he couldn't help but shudder when his mum reached out for him. He felt her hands shakily cup his face and it only made his skin crawl and had his throat constricting in panic. He reached his hands up for her wrists and sternly pulled her hands down while he tilted his head out of her touch.

He couldn't stand to hold her. He pushed her hands back towards her chest and took a careful step away from her so she wasn't touching him or within his reach.

"Jimmy, please-" The tears in her eyes looked sincere, but it only made Jim feel worse. She was crying because he had given up on her. She wasn't shedding any tears for (Y/n) or their baby or out of remorse for what she had done today.

"Enough, mum. Okay, I've had enough. The whole team saw what you did today; I saw what you did."

"Oh Jimmy, it was an accident."

Why was she trying to deny it? Didn't she hear him? They had seen it with their own eyes. They had seen Karen leaning over the top of the stairs, they heard the banshee scream (Y/n) let out, and they saw her fall. They could put two and two together and come up with four. It was clear what Karen had done and Jim wasn't letting this happen again.

"That wasn't an accident. You hurt her, you hurt my family, how am I supposed to trust you after this?" There was nothing she could say or do that would change his mind. He couldn't trust her anymore and therefore he didn't want to be around her or be involved with her in any way, not after this.

The way Karen clasped her hands together in front of her mouth to smother her cries made Jim's heart clench. But it was nothing compared to the way his heart tore itself apart at the thought of losing his daughter or seeing his wife in agony.

He reached a hand up to tangle through his hair, taking another step back when Karen tried to move closer.

"(Y/n) told me what you did and I didn't believe her when I should of. And now- fuck, mum I could of lost my daughter today, do you get that? She'll probably be premature now or have complications, and that's your fault. You did this."

He almost lost someone so special to him, and she wasn't even born yet. His mum had taken his father from him. She always told Jim how bad his father was and that he deserved what happened, but she never really let Jim decide that for himself. She embroiled him into his father's death. And now she had almost taken his daughter away from him because she was jealous and spiteful.

There was no doubt that this was likely to cause complications for (Y/n) for the remainder of the pregnancy. They probably wouldn't reach full term now either. His mum had caused so many problems with one little decision to hurt (Y/n). Jim wasn't sure he could ever forgive her for that.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you can't stay with us anymore. I don't want you in my life." He could see his words acted as a knife plunging straight through his mum's chest into her heart.

Her hands pressed against her chest as if she truly believed she had been impaled by his words and a choked sound left her lips which had Jim shivering and stepping back towards the door. He could see the floodgates opening, tears drenching her face as she tried to gain back the ability to breathe, but she didn't know how.

Her shoulder coiled inwards and she stooped forward with ragged breaths and her elbows pinning into her waist. He didn't want her in his life. He wanted to cut her out like a disease because that was what she was doing to him. She was taking and taking and draining Jim to the point he was going to have nothing left if she carried on.

"Jimmy w-what am I meant to do?" How was she supposed to carry on without him in her life? He was the reason she had pushed to get through eighteen years in prison. He kept her going. He was her reason for staying on track and making sure she got herself released on time. She was what he was living for, she didn't know what to do without him.

"Everything okay out here?" Hondo peered his head round the door and took a few cautious steps out into the corridor with Deacon following behind him. Leaving Luca and Chris to entertain (Y/n) since the pair of them were happily running her through one of their recent cases at work.

"Yeah-"

"No, no you can't do this to me Jimmy! She's twisted your head." Karen's hands desperately clawed at his chest, scrunching his shirt in her viper grip to try and get him to listen to her. "I went to prison for you- I saved us both! Everything I've done has been for you, I need you."

His fingers deadlocked around her wrists, clenching so tightly her fingers spasmed and the blood supply was cut off to her fingers.

"For me? You screwed up both our lives, and you're blaming me? You killed him, that was never my fault and maybe you did do that for me, I'll never be sure. But I'm cutting you out my life for my daughter because I need to protect her, that's what a parent does. They don't harm people, they protect their kids."

Jim would never know if his mum had truly pulled the trigger that night for his sake, or for her own. She had been a battered wife, he had seen it with his own eyes and neither he nor Karen deserved the abuse they suffered because of his dad.

But killing him should have been a last resort and Jim would never know if things could have turned out differently. Maybe his mum did do it that night to keep him safe, but he had spent the last eighteen years thanking and loving her for that. He had repaid her enough for what she did for him.

Now he had a child to put first and to look after his daughter and his wife, he needed to cut his mother out of their lives. For good.

His hands let go of her wrists and he stepped back towards Hondo's side and ran a hand over his face to stop himself from letting any tears fall.

"I called your support officer and told her what happened. She's on her way down to take you into custody."

"Jimmy!"

Karen didn't get far enough to lunge at Jim before Hondo stepped forward and grabbed her arms.

The surprise was evident on all their faces. Hondo and Deacon understood how guilty Jim had felt for the last eighteen years that his mum had been rotting away in prison, claiming it was his fault she was in there to begin with. He felt responsible for his mum being in prison and not getting to live two decades of her life.

They knew that, and given how much Jim loved her, was the reason he had let her stay with him and (Y/n) when she was released. They couldn't quite believe that he had taken it upon himself to call her support officer and explain the situation.

Karen had violated the terms of her parole by attacking someone, she was going to be re-arrested for this and her bail would be revoked. She was undoubtedly going to go back to prison for this, and this time she could say without a doubt that it was Jim who had put her there.

But he didn't care.

He wanted his family safe and he didn't want his mother to get away with what she had done.

He had to look after his girls.

#imagine #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat #jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #jim x reader #dominic luca #chris alonso #hondo harrelson

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daenysx · 6 months ago

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those tiktok videos where couples are ranking types of kisses but it’s you and james 🧚🏻‍♀️✨😭 if you write it, thank you very much for your time ❤️

i hope i got this right, thank you for requesting, angel!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think if you like this guys <33333

james potter x fem!reader, fluff (lots of kissing haha)

it's so easy to get james in the mood for trying a new tiktok ranking trend.

he's been obsessed with them lately, keeps trying different stuff just for fun when he waits for you to join him in bed at night. the funniest part of this for you is that he actually takes them so seriously, he gets visibly disappointed when he puts an option in the wrong place and regrets it later.

"i'm gonna show you something." you say, sitting on bed with your phone in your hand.

"what's that angel?" he asks, pulling you closer. "your hair smells amazing, come closer."

you settle down next to him and open the app on your phone. "we're gonna rank types of kisses."

"oh, that's new? i've never seen it."

"i just saw a couple doing it, thought you'd enjoy." you laugh.

"um-yes, please?" he says, seriously. god, you love him so much.

"okay." you hold the phone in front of you. "so, when a type of kiss appears on the screen, you'll give me that kiss and i'll rank."

james clearly likes the idea, he sits straighter on bed. you look at him before starting, he nods.

'neck kiss' appears on the screen and james gives you a perfect kiss on your neck. you love how he pays attention to your neck all the time so it's a clear favorite.

"this can actually be the first one." you say. "but no, three."

'hand kiss' comes next and james kisses your knuckles. "good?" he asks. "i feel like i'm under pressure."

you laugh. "gonna put it in number six."

next one is 'nose kiss', you cheekily rub your nose on james's. "you don't like this so much." he says.

"um, eight."

"i wonder which one will be ten."

'earlobe kiss' appears. "oh my god." you laugh. james kisses your earlobe and it's too loud. "that's ten."

you regret your decision when 'bite kiss' comes next. "no!" you laugh. "don't bite me."

"sorry, angel." he laughs. he bites your arm softly.

"nine."

you put 'top of the head kiss' on number four. "you could do better than that." you say to james, smiling.

"i definitely could." he agrees. "this is hard."

"okay, 'lip kiss' next, you gotta be quick."

james kisses your lips but he hates how there's not enough time. "gonna put it in two." you say. "but number two and number three are just so close, jamie, i'm not sure."

"that's okay, we're totally doing this every night, you can change that." he whispers against your ear playfully.

"oh, wait." you say. 'forehead kiss' comes next. it's definitely your favorite, james takes an extra second to keep his lips on your skin. "that's number one."

"you're so predictable, sweetheart."

"it's kind of your fault."

you put 'cheek kiss' on number five. it could be number four but you feel a bit distracted by james's lips, you have no strategy left.

"what's number seven, then?" james asks.

'french kiss' comes and you laugh so hard, you drop the phone. "yes!" james says, he laughs with you and change your positions on bed. "we're gonna have to do it, you know."

"yeah? for the game?"

"mm-hmm." he agrees. you lay under him now. "for the game."

the kiss is nice because james stops teasing and kisses you with all his heart. you cup his cheek, pull him closer on top of you. your breathing slows down when your tongues meet, james sucks on your bottom lips deliciously. when you're apart you can't get your thoughts straight.

"that's definitely not number seven." you whisper.

"if only i had this much time to do all the others-" james starts, kisses you again. you spend the next minutes kissing with your eyes closed and bodies entwined. your phone is long forgotten when james takes off your shirt.

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luveline · 8 months ago

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Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides.

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out.

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?”

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?”

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.”

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.”

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?”

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function.

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger.

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes.

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.”

“Come in, please.”

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual.

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?”

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.”

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.”

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.”

“It’s about that.”

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.”

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.”

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?”

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.”

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling?

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you.

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson.

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask.

“Months ago.”

“And Sandy said yes.”

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid.

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.”

“I need to go and tell Spencer.”

“Spencer, your good friend.”

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.”

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for.

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.”

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says.

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud.

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder.

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek.

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.”

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.”

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says.

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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hier--soir · 2 years ago

Text

whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fwb joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

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bi-writes · 10 months ago

Note

I LOVED how you wrote ghost and badass!reader omg 🫶 If you’re comfortable, would you be open to writing protective boyfriend ghost at the pub? Some oblivious guy is creepy when ghost goes to get drinks. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when ghost returns.

ill take any opportunity to write about my favorite lieutenant spilling blood for love (18+)

he has been gone for too long. your glass is empty, and the crowd is filling the room, and it's loud. you lose him, even the size of him is swallowed by how many people are moving around, and you sigh as you lean your head into your hands and wait for him.

you know he must hate this. the people. the noise. it's hot, too, and you know he'll complain a little about the stickiness of his mask when you get home.

you gasp when there's a splash of something against your back. you cry out in anger, and when you turn, there's two men cackling as they come into your space.

"ohhhh!" the lankier one giggles drunkenly, and his eyes make you uneasy. his hair is curling from the sweat along his brow, and the dark pieces of it fall in front of his face, drawing low shadows over him. he's the one holding the drink that just spilled down your back. "s-sorry, luv--" he hiccups, and you glare.

"fuck off," you snap, and it's then that you realize you've made a mistake. something ugly flashes across his face, and his friend notices, a bleach-blonde with an uneven haircut, and he whistles a little.

"oh, fuck, mate--she wants a fight."

you scoff, shaking your head. "if you aren't gonna apologize for spilling that shit on me, the least you can do is get the fuck out of here."

"oi, you got a fuckin' mouth on ya, lovie," the dark-haired one growls. you sit up a little straighter, brushing off some liquid that's spilled onto the table. they're cornering you, you realize, when the blonde one takes a seat across from you and the other traps you in the booth by sitting next to you.

"i'm not going to ask you again," you say firmly. "get your ass off this seat and move along."

"you're one of those, aren't you?" the one next to you gets uncomfortably close. "one of those feminists? that thinks men are useless, and that you're meant for something more than the fuckin' kitchen?"

you frown, your mouth opening slightly, and you shake your head, "excuse me?"

"you lot," he comes closer. "think you're hot shit. but y'r all fuckin' slags. only thing you're good for is opening y'r fuckin' legs."

you jump visibly when he grabs your thigh roughly, and you're about to react when a gloved hand finds the back of his head and slams it down against the wood of the desk.

you squeak when he cries out in pain, his nose pointing at unnatural angles, and blood splatters the table and the denim of your jeans. you lean back, but then those gloved hands grab the back of his shirt and yank him out of the booth, tossing him onto the floor. he skids across it, wet with spilled drinks, and he doubles over, coughing, cradling his face as he sobs.

you swallow hard when ghost finally turns his head back to the table. his chest is heaving, and he squeezes his hands in and out of fists when his eyes land on the helpless blonde that still somehow sits across from you.

"no--" he holds his hands up. "n-no, w-we were just--"

"just what?" ghost snarls, tilting his head to the side as he looks at him. you suck in a shaky breath, frozen in your seat, and you almost feel bad for the poor thing. but then you replay the words, the way they looked at you, how one of them put a hand on you. you relax a little, blinking, and you realize it must be acceptance.

you take a dog with you when you go out. it's not your fault people don't realize their bite hurts.

ghost takes a step towards him, boots heavy, and he runs. he bolts, running away, out the back door, and he leaves his friend to cradle his bloody face against his shaking hands all by himself. the crowd was quiet for a moment, but the mood softens when ghost turns away, letting out a low breath. people realize the show is over, and they shuffle back in place.

there is blood on the back of your hand. before you can touch it, a gloved hand reaches out and smooths his own over you, wiping it away. you sniffle, looking down, and he comes closer to crowd your space. you feel only warmth with him there, and your lip trembles a little.

"s-sorry, i--"

"wot are you apologizing for?" simon mutters. "apologizin' for those fuckin' twats, luv? don't want t'hear it."

he grunts, shaking his head, and he tugs on your arms, bringing you closer.

"c'mere," he tilts your head up, putting a few fingers on your chin and staring down at you. he narrows his dark eyes, and you smile, just a little, sadly. "was almost too late." he looks behind him, and you see a few feet away, there's two drinks spilled on the floor, glass shattered where he dropped them. "saw him put his fuckin' hands on you, 'n--"

you put a hand on his forearm, digging your nails in there gently. you shake your head.

"it's okay. doesn't matter." you laugh a little. "kinda hot."

you notice him raise a brow, and he tilts his head to the side, and he hums.

"oh, that right, luv?" he leans in, closer, and when he touches your hands, blood comes off on your hands. you smooth your hands against his own, gripping them firmly, and you look up at him as you smile knowingly.

simon would do unspeakable things for you. and that idiot was lucky to go home with his hands still attached. it should scare you that you know this, that you know this is a fact. it's dark, it's cruel, but it's yours, and you like the way it tastes in your mouth.

you like the way revenge feels against your tongue, the sound that love feels between your teeth. this love is fucked and raw, and it will tear you apart, but you can't wait for it, to feel it, the thin line between pain and pleasure. simon pushes the boundary between good and bad, and for once, the blood feels warm, and he paints you with it, and it's fucking poetic the way you look at him now.

pretty eyes, big eyes, eyes that tell him she's going to fuck you when she takes you home.

"yeah, big man," you murmur, and you feel something hot go through you when his eyes drop to your lips for just a second. just enough time for you to know he's losing his resolve. one thought about getting his hands on you, and he falls, and it's pathetic, but he's so fucking hard, he doesn't care. "it's hot."

and when he forces you to look in the mirror later, when it's dark and it's just the two of you, you realize there is blood on your face, and his hands are dirty with filth.

but when he goes to take the gloves off, you don't let him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #simon thoughts #ghost mwii #ghost call of duty #dark!simon

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webshooterrr9 · 7 months ago

Text

dbf!miguel staying over

i mean....... i had to eventually...

w.c: 2.6k

content warning: alcohol usage, age gap (reader is 21, Miguel is 35), smut, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight dom/sub dynamic but not really because mig is such a sweetie and reader is sassy af, teasing because mig is secretly a meanie :(, not really tho he wants it just as much as her, big scary men whimpering!!!

sorry for y'all who don't speak spanish cuz i didn't feel like adding translations because it messed up the look but dw most of it is in english

Miguel and your father have been friends since college.

When your dad needed help with homework, Miguel was there. When your dad needed someone to pass to during the game, Miguel was there. When your dad mourned the loss of your mom, taken from the world too soon, Miguel was there. There were countless nights where Miguel would tutor your dad on subjects he struggled with after missing classes to take care of you: the angel he was gifted with in high school. Although he admits you came into his life a bit too early for comfort, he has always loved and prioritized you. And Miguel quickly became your dad’s best friend because, although he never met you, he could tell just how much your father cared about you.

And so he was always there for your dad. All through college and beyond.

It wasn’t until you started college that Miguel had the pleasure of meeting you. Your dad had planned a hangout with the three of you, telling you about how important it is to have a good friend on your side, how it helped him when times got tough.

And now you’re 21 - sitting on your childhood bed after coming home from college for the summer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Miguel since you’ve been home. When you met him three years ago, you were somewhat intimidated by him. How could you not? Look at the sheer size of that man. But you came to know through your school breaks that he was a lot more laid-back than you previously thought. You hate to admit it, but you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It’s stupid, you know, but how could you possibly resist those deep brown eyes and that smooth baritone voice that pulls you in every time?

Knock knock “Chiquita?”

You recognized that silky tone. It was Miguel.

“Yeah?” you say, putting your phone to the side. “Come in.” The doorknob twists and your door slowly creeps open. Behind it was that beautiful man: soft brown curls, slightly hidden by a backwards cap, a strong nose, dusty jeans that hug his legs just right, and a plain white tee with a gold cross dangling from a chain around his neck. Your dad’s best friend. Miguel.

He steps into your room and lingers by the door, a lazy smile across his face. Dios… he was something else.

“¿Qué estás haciendo, mami? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

You sit up straighter, trying not to look as lousy as you feel. He came in here looking like a goddamn Roman god and you’re just sitting in your pjs. “Just scrolling,” you reply. “Trying to enjoy my time without homework.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Your papi invited me over,” he says, stepping further into the room. “Just to catch up and share a few Modelos.”

You watch his arms cross over his chest, the sleeves of his tee tightening around his huge arms. “Doesn’t explain why you’re in here,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be out back with him, then?”

“What, ¿no puedo saludar a la hija de mi amigo?" he laughs. “That’s not fair.” he adds with a fake pout that makes you giggle.

“I didn’t say that,” you smile. He walks over and sits on the edge of your bed. You notice his watch gleam in the sunlight filtering through your windows. “Did you come here from work? Your shirt is dirty as hell.”

“You know how it is, beba. Being a blue collar worker is a tough job.”

You snort. “Please, being a mechanic is hardly blue collar work. You stay inside a garage all day.”

“My customers would beg to differ,” Miguel says. “You should see how many señoras come into my garage looking for a replacement for their shitty husbands.”

“Makes me feel like they’re tryna put a ring on it.” he wiggles his calloused fingers in front of you for added effect.

“Well, it makes sense,” you say. “You’re about their age anyway.”

“Oye!” he laughs. “I’m thirty-five, thank you very much. Not even close to their age.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, viejo.”

The sun had set an hour ago and he hadn’t gone home yet.

Despite the amount of times Miguel offered to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, your father insisted he stay for “ten more minutes” and handed him another beer each time. The sound of the two men laughing from the living room kept you awake. It normally wouldn’t bother you, since you’re a night owl anyway, but you have plans with your friend tomorrow that you have to wake up early for.

You exit the comfort of your bedroom and head into the living room where you find Miguel and your dad chatting loudly on the couch. Miguel’s arm is draped over the back of the sofa, which accentuates his already defined chest - not to mention the dim lamp light casting beautiful shadows on his face.

“Ah, mija, there you are!” your father exclaims, very drunkenly. “I was wondering where you were. No te he visto en todo el día!”

“Lo siento, papi.” You reply, leaning against the wall. Miguel’s stare feels hot on your skin. You can see him through your peripheral vision, looking as handsome as ever.

“Es tarde en la noche, chiquita.” Miguel says, his words coming out slower due to all the Modelo in his system. “Why are you still up?”

“That’s exactly why I came in here; to tell you two to shut up.”

“¡Oye! Watch your mouth, mija.” your dad says sternly, while Miguel just chuckles.

“Sorry, pequeña,” Miguel says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “We’ll keep it down. But don’t swear at your padre, yeah? Respect your elders.”

“Uh huh.” you shrug, waving the two men goodbye as you retire to your bedroom. You were sure that Miguel would still be there when you woke up in the morning, but hopefully he’ll be passed out by then and not still chatting with your dad.

----

You fall asleep almost immediately. The newly-installed fan in your room helped rid the summer heat and cool your bedroom to a comfortable temperature, while still allowing you to snuggle up under the blankets. A band tee and plain panties is all you wore, which was normal for you unless you were staying at a friend's house - at which point you’d obviously throw on some shorts. The moon shining through your windows acts as a sort of night-light, and you’re soothed to sleep by the crickets outside and the less-deafening sound of chatter from your living room.

Your alarm wakes you up around 8am, which is earlier than you normally start your day. As you go to turn off the noise, you hear a tired groan come from behind you. “Mmph… turn that off.”

You flinch and turn around, covering yourself with your blankets at the stranger in your bed. But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Miguel.

“Miguel!” you whisper-shout, nudging his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

He huffs and pushes his face into your pillow, and this is your first chance to get a good look at him. He’s shirtless, of course, but his muscular frame isn’t what draws you to him. His hair is tousled from sleep in a way you haven’t seen before, a grumpy pout peeking out from the pillow he’s buried his face in. He still has his gold chain around his neck, but he seems to have discarded his hat and jeans - which you see laying on your floor. You knew this man was gorgeous… but this was the most stunning you’ve ever seen him. The morning light only makes it better.

“Tu papá durmió en el sofá,” he mumbled, the sleepiness of his voice making him sound more attractive than ever. “And his room was too hot to sleep in.”

“That doesn’t explain why you decided to crawl into my bed unannounced.” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, and one of his arms slides under his pillow to prop himself up. “Cálmate, princesa. You had tons of room and it was cool in here.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

You sit up and brush the hair out of your face, trying to wake yourself up so that you can get ready. Miguel sleepily snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you back down. Your head flops on the pillow and messes up your hair once again.

“Quédate, mami. Sleep with me.” he mumbles, closing his eyes once more.

“E-Excuse me!?” Oh you were definitely blushing now. No way he just said that! You knew that he didn’t actually mean it like that… but you also knew that he wasn’t dumb. Whether his intentions were pure or not, you knew that he worded it that way on purpose. Was your silly little crush reciprocated?

He hugs you closer to him, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The cold metal of his necklace makes you shiver, especially in contrast with how hot his body is. Temperature, you mean.

“You heard me.” he doubles down.

“Do you even-”

“I know what I said, chiquita.” Miguel opens his eyes now - the lazy drawl of his voice becoming more awake and purposeful. His gaze on you is unbearable. You could feel the intensity of his stare. “And I know what I meant.”

You stare at him in silence. How could you speak? The man who you’ve had a crush on since you started college was in your bed, half naked, making a move on you. Part of you thinks that he’s waited long enough to finally do this, but another part of you feels some sort of guilt. He’s over a decade older than you, and a family friend no less. You can see through his eyes that he feels similarly, but his passion is overpowering any sense of guilt. Besides, you’re both adults. How bad could it be?

He leans over you, pinning you down onto your own mattress. A position that’s typically domineering, and yet, you can see his gaze soften uncharacteristically for him. He brushes a strand of loose hair away from your face.

“Que linda…” he mumbles, eyes trailing all over your face. “Eres tan hermosa.”

Miguel leans his face closer to yours, his gold cross dangling from his neck and touching yours. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You’re stunned but also… excited?

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“Quiero sentirte.” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. You hear his breath catch in his throat. “Tócame. Hazme el amor.”

He chuckles, a flirty pout crossing his face. “Oh, pobrecita…” he grins, tracing your jawline with his dexterous fingers. Your face tilts up closer to his, your lips brushing as he speaks. “You know I can’t do that.”

...

What?

“Why not?” he can visibly hear the disappointment in your voice. It almost makes him feel bad, especially with how beautiful you look in the morning light.

“Don’t wanna wake your papi, nena.” he caresses your face once more, leaning back a little so he can look at your face properly. “I can’t make you scream while everyone else is asleep. We have to keep this a secret. But where’s the fun in sex if I can’t hear your pretty whines, hm?”

You smack his chest. “Oh fuck off, Mig. Come here.”

Before he can respond, you grab him by his necklace and drag him down to your lips. The moment your mouths connect, it’s like fireworks going off in his head. He swears you taste better than any bizcocho he’s ever had. Miguel holds your waist as you tangle your hands through his hair, and he lets out a soft groan. His hips involuntarily rut against your thigh, and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

His hand dips between the two of you to tug your panties down, freeing your skin to his touch. His thumb lazily circles your clit, while the other calloused hand is still resting on your hips. He feels like he’s in heaven, feeling you squirm underneath him, but he knows this is only the start of the fun you’ll have together. He swallows every sound you make with his lips on yours, his tongue fighting with yours for control. He pulls his hands back once he’s sure that you’re wet and ready. You two are gasping for air by the time your lips part, and his deep eyes look into yours with a silent plea. You nod your head desperately.

Miguel makes quick work of removing what little clothes he had left on his lower body before sinking into your warmth, slowly but surely. You gasp.

He leans his forehead against yours, savoring the moment of stillness. It’s like you two are in your own little bubble - no one else can interfere. He kisses you lovingly as he starts to move, silencing any moans or sighs you might have that others could hear. You’re just for him, no one else can experience you. His thrusts are slow, but agonizingly deep. You feel it deep in your core, kissing your cervix with every push of his hips forward.

“God…” he whines. “You feel so fucking good. So good for me, baby.” You arch against him, your hands dragging along his back for support. He glances down at where your two bodies connect, and the sight almost makes him pass out. “Que cosita más linda, mami.” he whispers.

“Damelo… please..” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut with all the pleasure you feel.

“I am, nena, I am. It’s all for you, princesa. I promise.”

His pace speeds up a little more, but he’s still pushing into you just as deep, “Show me you love it, baby. Mírame.”

You meet his gaze with glassy eyes, breathing heavily and nails digging into his back. You wrap your legs around his slim waist and he throws his head back at the tighter feel. “That’s it, baby. Así así…”

He’s rutting into you wildly, chasing his high. You look down to watch as his dick disappears into your cunt. The wet sounds of his hips smacking yours clouds your mind. Each roll of his hips brings you closer to the edge. “You’re so pretty, muñeca. So so pretty f’me.”

His large hands sneak under your t-shirt and grope your tits, squeezing and caressing in a way that makes you hazy. “Want you to look at me while I fill you up. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nod your head frantically, scratching the skin of his shoulders. You’ve never wanted anything more. The two of you are getting dangerously close to climax, and you swear you can hear him whimper.

“God, baby, feels so fucking good. No puedo más, no puedo más…!”

A squeal escapes you as he spills into your heat, with your own crescendo arriving shortly after. There’s a creamy white ring around his base as he starts to slow the roll of his hips. Miguel eventually stills and collapses, hugging you close in the same sort of cuddle as before, but still resting inside you.

After the exhaustion wears off, you pull back to stare into his eyes. A hand comes up to cup his face, rubbing his flushed cheek gently. “That was fucking amazing, Mig. I haven’t felt that good in so long.”

He laughs softly, returning your affectionate gaze. “Do you think your papi heard us?”

“Definitely not.” you giggle. “He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“That’s good.” Miguel holds you for a few more minutes, just silently staring at you. You can’t even imagine how blissed out you must look right now, but it’s all so gorgeous to him. “Eres increíble, mi vida.”

You hum in delight, stroking his cheeks once more. “You too, mi cielo.”

... you're gonna have to cancel your plans for today.

sort of switched to Miguel's pov in the last section cuz i wanted to experiment :))))

i hope you guys liked it!! dbf!miguel inspiration from @mybvalentine

and yes... he's a mechanic. it just suits him ok??

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webshooterrr9

#webshooterrr9 #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #fanfic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #i wrote this with one hand #dbf!miguel #owns my heart #mechanic!miguel

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