#not everyone has a mom worth celebrating
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For those of us who have complicated emotions around today’s holiday: Today can just be another Sunday. Go for a walk, spend time with friends, read a book, get yourself a treat. But whatever you do please just treat yourself gently.
#also vacate internet spaces for today and maybe tomorrow#give everyone their time to celebrate and pamper yourself a little bit#that’s what I am doing literally immediately after this#have a good Sunday#I’m proud of you#not everyone has a mom worth celebrating#& I see you & I just want you to know I understand
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Most relevant bit:
The puppy was part of a litter of 12 at a July 20 event hosted by the Moms and Mutts Colorado Rescue for Pregnant and Nursing Dogs, also known as MAMCO. The event took place at the rescue's shelter at 2721 W. Oxford Ave. in Sheriden. The address is also sometimes listed in Englewood. The puppy, along with its littermates, came from Texas and was unvaccinated for rabies at the time of exposure. At the event, the puppy's litter was known as the "July Shepherd Mix" litter and may also have been referred to as the "Celebrity Kids" litter.
Rabies is bad, kids. Like, 100% fatal, bad. The pup had to be euthanized for testing and it's likely all its littermates will be, too. The article said they're trying to track down 17 people known to be in close contact with the infected pup, but anyone who was at the event needs to be wary. Rabies can be passed via saliva, so if the puppy licked you or your dog, there's a danger.
People who attended the event should call the Colorado Department of Public Health & Environment for screening.
They can call the agency's hotline at 303-692-2700 during business hours or 303-692-9395 after hours or on weekends or holidays. Or they can email [email protected] CDPHE staff will determine whether attendees need post-exposure treatment.
It's also worth noting that post-exposure treatment only works before symptoms show up. Once you or your pet start displaying symptoms, it's too late. Again: rabies is 100% fatal.
The article doesn't mention how the pup contracted rabies in the first place and it doesn't mention how old the pup was, but a bit of quick research shows that the vax schedule for rabies isn't until 14 weeks, so if the puppy was younger than that (and this was a "nursing dogs" event) it's possible it was just too young to have been vaxxed. There may be more nuance to it than that and there's a lot of details that aren't mentioned, but I don't think this is a case of "ugh, Texas" or anything like that. Shelters, at least, take health & safety seriously. Any employee spouting off about animals not needing vaccines is going to get kicked to the curb.
I really hope that the CDPHE has a system in place to cover the cost of the post-exposure treatment since it can cost anywhere from $1200 to $6500 without insurance and that's going to be impossible for a lot of people, even if the alternative is a slow and painful death.
What a mess. I hope everyone (and their animals) comes through this safe and healthy.
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Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily
Sure thing. Damn, Bruce is really mister Worldwide.
Summary: (Y/N) is Mexican. Everyone is curious.
Warnings: nothing bad, talking about Mexican culture, which is really cool with the day of the dead honestly,
Bruce has been thinking about getting a vasectomy, since he has found out about (Y/N), his son who was born and is being raised in Mexico. Bruce slept with a model and hence, (Y/N) was born. His mother loved him, but she wanted (Y/N) to go to the USA, to get a safer life and better education.
Bruce, being ever so suspicious, decided to do a DNA test, just in case. You just never know and Bruce didn't want to be used for his money and a green card for the boy that wasn't his. And once a DNA test showed that Bruce was the father, he took it upon himself to get (Y/N) into the USA and to get him his citizenship.
And immigration is not fun to deal with, everyone knows that. After pulling some connections, (Y/N) managed to get to the USA on a visa for now at least. Bruce has started the process right away with an immigration lawyer, the best on he could find in Gotham city. And since last name Wayne opens up a lot of doors everywhere, Bruce has decided to use that to his advantage.
The boys were not shocked by the news of another biological son. Damian wasn't afraid or threatened and unlike the first time he came to the manor, he's established himself as a biological son. And (Y/N) is a year younger than Damian anyway, so Damian welcomed (Y/N), but of course, it would take time for everyone to adjust to the new addition to the family.
Once (Y/N) settled down in the manor, Bruce sat him down to talk about everything moving forward. Bruce told (Y/N) that he will never prohibit any aspect of his culture and that if there are holidays that are important to him, that they would celebrate it. Bruce didn't want (Y/N) to lose his culture. He wanted (Y/N) to be proud of his culture and seeing the beaming smile on (Y/N)'s face made it all worth it.
So, the two decided to make a list of holidays that are important to him and that they were going to celebrate. (Y/N) made sure to put Día de los Muertos, alongside Cinco de Mayo and El Grito de Independencia. Which (Y/N) clarified for his brothers. Cinco de Mayo commemorates the bravery of Mexican soldiers who made the French army retreat. El Grito de Independencia is the actual independence day, where they got their independence from Spain.
For some reason, Americans think that Cinco de Mayo is their independence day, which (Y/N) doesn't understand why Americans would think so. Like why? Do they not like to research? (Y/N) couldn't understand it, but decided to let it go since maybe Cinco the Mayo is far more easier to remember for them... No, that doesn't make any sense in that.
Maybe he'll never know.
(Y/N) was doing just fine in school. Bruce noticed how hard working he was. And it wasn't like Bruce had to force him to, he was just doing it on his own. Bruce wondered why, since he was a good student before coming to the USA. (Y/N) just explained how his mother taught that hard work is something that will make him succeed in life. She told him her story of hard work and how she became successful.
And Bruce understood why. (Y/N)'s mom didn't have connections and a last name that could open doors and simply pave the way. Bruce understood that and agreed that his mom did good. You can't expect that last name open up doors for you. Because anything can crumble when you least expect it.
So Bruce encouraged (Y/N) to take breaks, since it's not good to study for a long time. (Y/N) nodded and understood that. He promised Bruce that he would try his best to take breaks and Bruce smiled, knowing that he can't force change over night.
Jason on the other hand, needed help. He couldn't understand Spanish for the life of him. And he asked (Y/N) for help. And (Y/N) was surprisingly a good teacher. Teaching him how to pronounce certain sounds and taught him more than the teacher did. Jason was thankful and (Y/N) had no problem giving him tips he needed to remember certain things.
Dick was more interested in his culture. What were certain traditions of Mexican culture? What were values there? What is something you shouldn't do there? What should you do there? Dick was always more interested in learning about other cultures.
That turned into a nice during dinner. (Y/N) explained his roots and culture to them, beating a few stereotypes along the way and everyone listen intently. (Y/N) also said that he would like to celebrate the Día de los Muertos, reminding them that it start from the eve of October 31st until November 2nd. Bruce nodded having no problem.
What did shock Bruce was that (Y/N) revealed that he made an altar of Martha and Thomas Wayne. Bruce didn't know about it, but wasn't mad. (Y/N) explained what it meant to have an altar. It would mean having pictures of the deceased, alongside some candles and a cross. (Y/N) also added their favorite flowers.
Bruce was touched by that. To have his parents honored and remembered like that was... Touching. And a bit better than the way they do it here in America...
" Can you show the altar to me? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) nodded.
" I will papa. " (Y/N) sipped his water and Bruce nodded. After dinner, (Y/N) would show Bruce the altar of Martha and Bruce Wayne. It was a simply altar, with pictures, probably provided by Alfred, favorite flowers, just like (Y/N) said. There was also a cross.
" And it's normally that simple? " Bruce asked, curiously.
" Well on the Day of the Dead, we make ofrendas, in English language that means offerings. We leave water in the pitcher so that the spirits can quench their thirst, paper banners that are traditional and they represent wind and then we have earth which is normally bread. Then you have candles that are often arranged to look like a cross, so that the spirits can find their way, " (Y/N) explained and Bruce nodded.
" Also, some altars have level. Most elaborate ones have have seven levels, but most have 3 levels. And we also have flowers in Mexico that grow a lot and have a strong smell that is said that spirits are attracted to it to visit their mortal loved ones, " (Y/N) added and Bruce was going to get those flowers for (Y/N), no matter what connections he had to pull.
Bruce nodded as he listened more. He really liked this holiday. It was nice and you can feel closer to your lost ones, rather than in America where you bury your loved ones and then simply visit their grave. Bruce never thought about the spirit of his dead loved ones would come.
But he liked the Mexican mindset on that matter.
" That's a nice way of thinking. That their spirits try to come and visit... " Bruce trailed off, smiling at the altar.
" Whatever you need for the altar, you'll get it. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you. "
(Y/N) nodded, knowing that Bruce would do that.
" Well, you can help with cleaning up the grave, since we take care of the graves to put some offerings there. Oh, you and the rest of the family need to learn a lot. " (Y/N) crossed his arms as he chuckled, Bruce chuckling alongside him.
#dc comics#x male reader#dc x male reader#bruce wayne x male reader#batman x male reader#batfamily#jason todd x male reader#red hood x male reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing x male reader#tim drake x male reader#red robin x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader
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Unfair
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.
part 2
tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.
word count: 7.2k
MDNI
masterlist
–
Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready.
The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.
Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.
The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd.
You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives.
Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.
—
When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.
The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.
With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now.
You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere.
Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime.
“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back.
You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.
God, you hoped he was Joel.
He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance.
You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth.
“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.
“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said.
Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.
“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.
Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.”
“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.
You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair.
“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself.
You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.
For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.
“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.
He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth.
“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.
There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.
“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat.
Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”
“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.
Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.
–
You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor.
The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine.
“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger.
You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.
Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.
There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.
You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding.
“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.”
You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.
“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.
Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.
“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.
“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.
Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight.
The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.
Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.
She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her.
Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.
Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car.
You were tipsy enough to allow it.
He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.
“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.
It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.
Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by.
It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close.
You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed.
He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.
You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.
Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.
Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.
The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth.
“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.
“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls.
Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.
You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection.
He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.
He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.
You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare.
“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.
—
It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.
Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside.
As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist.
“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear.
“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers.
The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.
He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss.
Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.
Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.
“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms.
You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up.
You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.
Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.
The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth.
Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.
“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.
“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.
You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.
“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”
He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart.
You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs
“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him.
Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks.
One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.
Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you.
And then he pulled back.
“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.
He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey.
He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.
Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.
He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.
You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up.
It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped.
You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat.
The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.
“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”
“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice.
Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge.
When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.
“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.
You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.
Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him.
“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”
The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe.
Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge.
“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you.
Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further.
He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.
Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.
“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside.
Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.
You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you.
He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.
“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach.
The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.”
You couldn’t take waiting anymore.
He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat.
You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.
Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.
Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.
Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.
You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm
You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.
His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.
A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”
You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.
A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.
“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.
You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.
Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.
You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.
“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself.
Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.
“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.
“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it.
He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.
A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”
–
Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.
#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us x reader#the last of us smut#the last of us#reader insert#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#tlou hbo#pedro pascal sag awards#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x fem!reader
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Unwavering Presence Chapter 14 (Part 1)
Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)
1000 Follower Celebration Post
Summary: Cassian opens up to Y/N about his mother, Y/N giving him a second chance. When the duo returned to Velaris a confrontation ensues that leads to flashbacks to the Spring.
Content Warning: mentions of death, conversations alluding to SA, Oral Sex, M receiving, Mor not keeping her hands to herself on more than one occasion.
A/N: I am so sorry this has taken longer than anticipated. I had to split this chapter into two parts strictly because it was getting extremely long! I hope you enjoy this part. Part 2 will be up quickly!
Word Count: 5.2K
Chapter 13 1000 Celebration Masterlist UP Masterlist
Reader POV
I opened and closed my mouth as Cassian knelt beside me leaning in and pressing his large hand to the Portrait. “Your mother?”
Cassian nodded, “We never knew where the Illyrian’s who killed her buried her…If they buried her. When I expressed to Az and Rhys that I wanted to build a home here, a place I could go to clear my head, I told them I wanted a place for her. So, she could be with me.”
A gust of wind whipped my skin raw causing a shiver to run down my spine, Cassian instinctively wrapped his wing around me to block the cold. “Why bring me here?”
Cassian’s gaze met mine, his hazel eyes full of guilt. “You know why.” I look down focusing on my hands. He gripped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes, glistening in the moonlight. “Princess, I have tried giving you all the gifts that money can buy. I have tried writing you a letter. Nothing seemed to get your attention.” I went to speak but he interrupted me, “I realized why. You’re scared. You trusted me with some of your deepest fears and I took advantage of that. I brought you here as my last attempt. If want to walk away after tonight. I won’t bother you anymore. But I figured there is one last gift I can give you.”
My heartbeat skyrocketed, “What’s that?”
Cassian grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. “My heart, Princess. Let me be open with you. Let me give you mine, the way you gave me yours.”
Silence fell between us as snow began to trickle down, I kept opening and closing my mouth unsure what to say. I looked back at the image of his mother. “Tell me about her, Cass.”
“She was my favorite person in the whole world.” Cassian began and I inched closer to him, I told myself it was to use his body heat. I was a fucking liar. Cassian curled his wing tightly around me, “She taught me how to braid hair as I told you before. She was kind, she always put others before herself. All the village kids loved to be around her, she would make sure everyone was fed and had enough to drink. Everyone loved her.” His hazel eyes met mine, “You remind me of her.”
I blushed and looked back at the portrait and instinctively my hand reached out to his as he sniffled. He laced his hand through mine, cool bite of the leather around his hand biting into my skin. “So where was your father?” You looked back to the Illyrian, his smile not reaching his eyes.
“I don’t know. He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me.” I squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture, “I have no idea who he is. At this point I have no interest in knowing. Any male who leaves a pregnant female alone, is not worth knowing.” We were silent for a moment, “I’m proud of where I come from. I’m proud of my heritage as an Illyrian. What I’m not proud of though is our ancient traditions. My mother had a bastard born child. The Illyrians are traditional and believe a woman should have a child within marriage.” I could feel the pit in my stomach growing, “She always wanted what was best and protected me. So, she made me flee. Where I had to fend for myself. Find my own shelter, my own food. Until one winter evening, Rhysand found me. The bastard made me come home with him, and his mom insisted I eat and get some rest. We have been together ever since.”
“What happened, to your mother? I know you said she died but…” I whispered; Cassian’s face morphed into sadness as he swiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Princess. I like that you display your emotions so openly.” He places his hand down from my face. “After the blood rite, I returned to my old village. She was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her in every place I could think of. I knew in my heart, she was dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t go to swipe them, “I wished I would have been able to tell her I loved her. I wish I could have told her so many things, Sweetheart.” He released my hand and placed his palms over her eyes, “I just wanted her to be proud of me.”
Not being able to contain myself I turned to face him fully and straddled his lap, gripping his wrist I pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes met mine I pressed my forehead to his, “Cassian, your mother would be so proud of you.”
The general shook my hands off and gripped my waist, “Not this past week and a half she wouldn’t. He closed his, “Baby, I’m-“
I cupped his face and pressed his lips to mine. He whimpered as he kissed me back, pulling me closer to him. We broke away and he swiped a strand of hair from my face, “I forgive you.”
“Really?” He whispered.
I cupped his face and he leaned into my touch, “We have a lot to discuss. Cassian, I don’t want to be hurt again.”
“I will make this up to you for as long as I live.”
“This was a good start.” Cassian began stroking my back. “You did give me the best gift tonight.”
“What’s that?”
I pressed my hand on his chest. “Your heart.”
“My heart has been yours to take.” He buries his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. We stayed like that for a few moments, the cold not bothering us as we simply hold each other. He lifted his head, gripped the back of his neck, “Listen to me, you are amazing, beautiful, and strong. I have never once thought of you as weak. I am so sorry for what I said. But you must know, you’re it for me. I want no one else, so I’m keeping you, so long as you’ll let me.”
I smiled, “Does this mean I get to keep you too?”
“You never lost me, Sweetheart.” He brushes his nose over mine, I do have a confession.” My face must have looked panicked because he laughed. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. When Mor had brought Feyre back from the Spring Court, I told you I was heading to Windhaven for a week. I didn’t go to Windhaven. I came here.”
I tilted my head, “Why lie about that? Seems a bit…”
“Ridiculous?” I nodded, “I didn’t want you to know that I was coming here to tell my mother about you. How I met this amazing human woman, who was kind and gentle, yet not afraid to put even a High Lord in his place. How she walks in a room and my day instantly improves. She smiles and it feels like my heart is going to combust.” I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore. “I just wanted to share that with her.”
A shiver trails down my spine and adjusting his grip under my thighs he hoists us up as he stands holding me as though I weigh nothing, “Come on I still have one more surprise for you.” He walked us toward the cabin, and I peeked over his shoulder looking back at the memorial. A butterfly in a climate too cold landed on the frame of the portrait. Before I could acknowledge the little creature, Cassian opened the door and set me down.
I turned and I pressed my hand to my chest, the dining and living room were right where you entered the cabin, the kitchen to the right. Everything was bright and warm, though the dining room table with wildflowers and candles at the center and two plates with silverware. One plate I assumed was mine had a leather-bound journal. “Cassian, I have so many journals.”
“That one isn’t empty though.” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. “Go read it, I’ll grab our dinner.”
“Who did all the set up?”
“Azriel, he left right before we arrived.” I walked over to where the journal was and sat down as Cassian took both of our plates to fill. I opened the journal and found the book complete full. Flipping to the first page my breath hitched.
My Dear Princess,
Nothing pained me more than sitting in this chair unable to move and watch you walk away. Knowing that my anger was the thing that caused it. To see the tears in your eyes and to know that I was the one that put the sadness in your eyes has sat with me for hours now. So, I went into the village and bought this journal. I figured writing to you is the next best thing I have right now. Since I know, you won’t talk to me for a while. Gods you’ve only been gone an hour and I miss you so much.
I flip through the pages; some are fresh letters pages long. “Cassian.”
“Three days left with my thoughts. I figured I would share them all with you.” Tears welled up in my eyes. As Cassian set the plate down the aromas of potatoes and seared meat caused my stomach to rumble. “Hey, look at me.” I met his warm hazel eyes as his callous fingers kissed the nape of my neck. “I never want you to feel the way you did with Nesta, or Xavier. I want to be better. Because you deserve better.” He tapped the journal, “Read these, whenever you need a reminder, that you’re worthy of the affection you receive, or that you need to take care of yourself, or we happen to be apart, and I can’t be there to comfort you when you need it. I am no poet or author, but with you I have always been good at sharing my feelings, you made it easier to open up. This is my last gift for you…tonight that is.”
I leapt out of my chair and into his arms, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m glad the universe led me to you, Cassie.”
His hand cradled the back of my head, as he kissed the top of it. “So am I.” He held me tightly before pushing me away, “Shall we eat?”
I nodded and both of us sat down and began to eat, we spent all evening talking about what we had been up to since I left. His hand had a permanent spot on my thigh, he would gently rub his thumb along my thigh, and I would smile. Once dinner was done, I offered to do the dishes of which he politely told me no. Then brought out a slice of my favorite cake for us to share. When it was done I yawned.
“Want to go to bed? I had the guest bedroom prepped for you.” I blinked at him.
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to assume we were sharing a bed tonight. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My mind went to Xavier and how if he were in this position, I would have had no choice of where I slept. I shivered, “Cassian, I want to stay with you tonight. Just sleeping.”
Cassian nodded. “Just sleeping.” He led me to his master room which was quite large and handed me a shirt to change into. “We’ll go back home in the morning.”
I yawned once more, “Okay.” I looked around, “Bathroom?”
He pointed to the door next to the one we entered. I smiled, reached up and kissed his cheek and headed to the other room to change. When I emerged, I pressed my back to the wall. Cassian’s shirt was off tattoos on full display. I bit my lip as I watched his muscles flex underneath the moonlight. I would have asked Feyre to paint this and call it, the General getting ready for bed. “Princess are you ok-ohh” Cassian stumbled as he turned and faced me, “Gods you’re beautiful.” My heart fluttered as his eyes raked down my body and my bare legs. One thing I knew was his eyes met mine once more.
I needed him.
Be Brave, Archeron.
I sunk to my knees. The general’s chest stopped moving, “Princess, what are you doing?” His voice was low and husky.
I began to crawl toward him, “I missed you, General.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbed. I stopped when I reached his feet. My hand sliding up his thick muscular thighs. “I want to make you feel good.” I placed kisses along his pants his thighs twitch under my touch and when I reached the center of his thighs. His erection was pressing against his pants, and I licked over his clothed cock maintaining eye contact as his hand slides through my hair as he moaned.
“Princess, we don’t have to,” his eyes held seriousness, and something warmed my heart at his words.
“Cassian, I want to. Now take off your pants.”
The Illyrian didn’t argue as he pulled down his pants. I gripped his thighs as his cock springing free. He looked down at me as his pupils consumed the hazel in his eyes, barely visible. Sticking my tongue out I swiped up his shaft. “Fuck,” He groaned leaning his head back.
I paused my mind looming back to the conversation that we had regarding safe words, “We won’t need it…I don’t think, but Ruby. He met my gaze once more, “My safe word is Ruby.”
Cassian bent down kissing me, “Use it, everything stops immediately. If you can’t use that pretty little mouth of yours.” He kissed my lips, once more. “One tap on my thigh tells me your getting close to your limit.” Another kiss, “Two taps and we’re done. Okay and I need you to be honest, Sweetheart. You need to tell me.”
“I promise,” I whispered and crashed his lips to mine.
He pulled away. “Good,” He was about to say something but that fell away as I closed my mouth at his tip, taking his length slowly. He moaned as he lightly tugged on my hair, “You really are trouble. We said just sleeping.”
I hummed in approval, taking him deeper my nails digging into his thighs as I flicked my eyes up to him. Pulling away to the tip I swiped my tongue over his slit. “Princess.” His nickname on his tongue caused my toes to curl.
Putting him out of his misery I began bobbing my head, his hand guiding me. He sunk deeper into my throat. “Sweetheart. I’m not going to last very long.” I picked up my paced, “Will you touch yourself for me, sweet girl.” I instinctively slid my hand down and massaged my clit, moaning as against him.
Cassian began thrusting, his pace sporadic and the sensation began to feel too much as I slipped my fingers into my folds. I tapped his thigh once. He slowed his pace slightly, “You, okay? Tap once if you are.”
I tapped him once. “Good Girl,” the praise shot straight to my core. He groaned, his grip on my hair tightened. “Fuck.”
I moaned continuously as I chased my own high when Cassian held my head in place as he found his release, “That’s it baby take it all.” His cum shot to the back of my throat and I drank it, greedily. “Now, come for me, Princess.” Sliding out of my mouth a trail of spit connecting my mouth to his cock, as my stomach tightened close to an orgasm, “You look so pretty, touching yourself, Cassian moved behind me and pulled my hand away. I whined as he huskily said, “Allow me.” And his mouth was on my clit and his fingers sliding into my core.
“Cassian,” I moaned out as his fingers began to curl hitting that sweet spot, making stars appear in my vision. Cassian’s tongue was relentless on my swollen bud, but it was only when he pulled away to lightly blow on the sensitive bundle of nerves that I came all over his fingers.
The general kept moving his fingers helping me ride out my orgasm. He slowly withdrew his fingers, and I felt empty. Cassian walked over to wipe his hand on his old shirt. He walked to the bathroom while I stood. When he walked back out there was a rag in his hand pants back over his hips, “Get on the bed for me will you?” I did , and Cassian gently moved my thigh.
“Cassian, I can’t take any more.” I whimpered and met his eyes. His hazel hue irises held pain in them.
“Princess, I’m cleaning you up, I’m not...” He couldn’t find the words. He sighed. “I would never force you to give more than what you are willing to offer. I just want to take care of you make you feel clean before I hold your gorgeous body to mine tonight.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “Fuck.” I covered my face, “No one has ever done that before.”
Cassian rubbed my exposed thigh soothingly, “Get used to it, Sweetheart. Me taking care of you after is a non-negotiable for me.” calloused fingers pull my hands from my face, so I must look in his gorgeous face, “Never expect to be treated any less than the princess you are.” He wiped the tears from my face. “Especially when you’re in my care.”
“Cass-“
“Shhh, sweet girl. I have you.” I nodded as he wipes the warm rag through my center cleaning me as tears silently fell from my face. Once Cassian was done, he tossed the rag, “Scoot.” He smiled as I moved to the opposite side of the bed. The general slid into the bed, and his arm snaked around my waist pulling me close. He pressed his forehead to mine and his thumb swiped against my hip bone. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” He whispered.
My eyes fluttered closed, “I missed being in your arms.” I yawned once more, “You make me feel safe.”
“I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Cassian whispered, exhaustion coating his own voice.
“Please don’t.” And in a matter of moments sleep overpowered me.
We walked into the town home together, hands clasped, smiles bright, the next evening and reached the dining room where the atmosphere shifted to something dark. “What’s going on?” Cassian queried.
No one answered his question. Looking over to Azriel his shadows were almost completely hidden his posture straight, Mor taking a sip of her wine next to him, her finger grazing his arm in languid strokes. Her hand slowly moving his hand around the nape of his neck twirling with his curls. Cassian led me to the two empty seats across from the blonde and the spymaster. Azriel’s face looked pain as Rhys spoke. “Glad to see you two made up.”
Cassian said something that I drowned out my gaze focusing on the two fae in front of me. I recognized the look on his face. It’s one that I had expressed too many times myself. Her touch was unwanted, unwelcome. I took a steadying breath trying to keep the rage I felt from spilling over. Azriel was kind and gentle and had always been kind. He won’t tell her to get off for those exact reasons. Memories washed over me at the sight of Mor, touching him.
I wished he would stop touching me. Xavier’s hand gripped my thigh, hiking my skirt. My orders were simple, sit and look pretty. What made that challenging is Xavier trying to expose me to everyone in Graysen’s armies as he did so. His mouth connected to my neck, and I closed my eyes and started to count. Something I had grown accustomed to when he would put me on display this way. Counting the seconds for his hands that were once loving, now grown cruel were off my body.
Voices bring me back to the present and my eyes locked with Azriel. Pain is there and Its as though I can see him counting himself until she got his hands off him. I took another breath.
Be Brave, Archeron. He needs you.
“Mind taking your hand off the Shadow Singer, Mor.” I quipped, and everyone froze the conversation long forgotten.
Mor quirked a brow, “Excuse me?”
“He’s uncomfortable with you touching him. Fix it.” I said with no room for argument in my tone.
“Or what?” Mor sneered gripping Azriel’s neck tighter. His face grimaced at her touch.
I grabbed the knife, grasping it by the tip I tossed it without thinking twice, the blade slicing her skin causing her to move her arm, just before it found purchase against the wall behind her. “Or next time I won’t miss. Read the room when someone is fucking uncomfortable with your hands on them. Azriel does not belong to you.” I snarled baring my teeth.
Mor rose to her feet, “Rhysand, Am I needed for you debriefing the love birds?”
“Go.” Rhysand said his voice even, but his eyes were distant as if he too was having haunting memories of a time when his body was not his to control. His eyes met mine, “We’ll talk about that stunt later.”
A cheshire grin appeared on my face, “Happily.” I looked at Azriel who was watching me in stunned silence. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” I said maintaining eye contact with Az.
His shadows swarmed over him covering his face. I understood their need to protect their master and looked back at Rhys. Not ignoring the bump to my knee from Cassian as he kept his leg touching mine, a silent reminder here was there. “We go to the Hewn City in a week’s time.”
“Shit,” Cassian muttered.
I looked to my general and back at Rhysand, “What’s the Hewn City?”
Amren, who had been abnormally quiet this whole time, spoke, “A vile city where the Night Court Underbelly resides. Also lovingly referred to as Mor’s home.”
Rhys snorted at that sentiment, “Her father had thought He would be next in line. He was sorely disappointed to find out that wasn’t the case.”
“Why do we have to go there?” I asked.
Rhys looked at Cassian. “To get the Veritas Orb.”
Cassian groaned, “Shit. So, the meeting didn’t go well.”
As Rhys and Cassian started a discussion, I finally took a look at my sister. “Fey?” Her eyes met mine, her hues of blue swirled with emotion. “What happened?”
“We ran into Lucien on our way home.” I stilled. “He wanted me to come hom- to the Spring Court.” Her face paled and I gripped her hand. “Rhysand intervened at some point, but it caused me to write a letter to Tamlin.”
“Oh?”
Feyre smiled, “I told him I was never coming back and sent that over this morning.”
I smiled and squeezed her hand, “I’m proud of you.”
Feyre smiled, “Me too. Lucien was relieved to hear you were alive though. I never told you this when I got here. He was crushed when he learned about what happened. Light came back into his eyes when he found out that wasn’t the case.”
My smile faltered slightly. “I’m sure.”
Sitting in front of the fireplace on the chill spring evening I watched the wood kindle the fire, the wood popping every so often.
“You are a hard person to find.” My head snapped to the doorway to find Lucien leaning against the door frame. He was in a white tunic and tight hunting pants. He had pulled his hair up into a Bun to keep out of his face. The firelight danced across his dark tan skin but highlighted the scar over his left eye.
“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?” I glanced back at the fire. His boots clicked against the tile indicating he was coming toward me. He opted to take the seat next to me leaning to the cart and pouring himself a glass of amber liquid. I glanced over to him to see him pouring a second one and holding it out for me. “You have been noticeably absent too.” I whispered taking the glass.
“I’m sorry, Sunshine.” Lucien pressed his lips in a tight line. “I have been busy.”
“Well aware.” I murmured while sipping my drink. Lucien and I were not fast friends by any means. The nickname he called me once grated on my nerves, which was his reason for doing it. Though as Tamlin and Feyre’s relationship grew into something more, our rivalry suddenly ceased, and a friendship bloomed in its place.
Our favorite pass time being making fun at Tamlin’s horrible attempts at courting Feyre. The four of us walking through the warm spring sun, the flowers in full bloom Lucien’s arms looped in mine as we watched on as Tamlin stumbled over talking with Feyre. Lucien in turn would dramatically reenact, making me burst into laughter causing the High Lord and my sister to turn and glare. We hadn’t been able to walk together on the grounds since our return from Under the Mountain. Lucien particularly made himself scarce around Ianthe and I longed for him to take me to avoid her insufferable presence.
Lucien’s voice was quiet as he spoke once more. “Tamlin told me, I couldn’t take you. I wanted to.”
“Lucien, you don’t have to explain.” I let the burn of the alcohol coat my throat. We sat for a moment; the sound of the fire whirring was the only sound in the sitting room. “I noticed.” I could feel Lucien’s attention toward me, but I continued to look at the fire. “The way you tense when she walks into a room,” He stilled knowing who I talked about without ever having to use her name. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucien clipped finishing his drink and pouring himself another.
“Well, if you just want to sit and brood about it…we can do that together too.” I sighed downing the rest of my drink. “Survivors have to stick together, right?” I looked at the red-haired male.
Lucien slowly met my stare, his russet eyes filled with sorrow. “Sunshine...”
Then the words began to pour out of my mouth before I could stop them. “His name was Xavier…”
“He is the only good thing in the Spring Court.” I said straightening back in my chair.
“Barely, he never stands up to Tamlin.” Feyre murmured.
“Feyre, you don’t understand,” I countered picking at my food, Cassian pressing his leg deeper to mine. Reassurance.
“Understand what?”
I glanced back at her, “How hard it is to regain your voice, when someone has stolen it from you.”
Feyre’s throat bobbed, “You managed.”
I placed my fork on the table and stood from my seat, ignoring the two pairs of Hazel eyes and one violet set, staring at me with concern. “Did I?” I walked away.
Walking toward my room, a delicate hand gripped my arm and slammed me into the wall. Nails dug into my cheeks squishing them tightly together. I blinked and brown eyes and silky blonde hair came into my vision. “I’m going to make this clear.” Mor’s voice was cold and distant as I gripped her wrist trying to pull her off me. “I’m not fond of being made a fool” I tried to move she pressed her body against mine to keep me in place. Her eyes raked my face, and she tucked a loose stand of hair behind my ear. “I mean it would be a shame if something happened to poor sweet Feyre, as a result of your reckless actions.” I sobbed, clawing at her wrist and Mor cooed, “Oh, not so tough now are you. You’re such a fragile little thing.” She leaned in her sweet perfume filling my nostrils, “If I wanted to, I could-
“What’s going on here?” Amren’s voice rang through the hall causing Mor to freeze. “I would suggest letting her go, girl. Before her general finds you.” Amren crossed her arms causing her silver shirt that matched her eyes to rise to reveal a small band of skin. “Now, Morrigan. I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Her voice was lethal, at this moment, I understood why she was Rhys’ second in command.
Mor released my face, not before she broke skin in some places. Glaring at me, “Stay in line, Human. You’re a lot more fragile than the rest of us.”
“That’s Enough, Mor.” My chest tightened to the sound of Cassian’s voice. Mor immediately took two steps back. “You need to go to the Hewn City. Rhys’ orders.” Cassian came into view, his wings tucked in tight, his siphons ablaze.
“Rhys can give them to me himself.” Mor pouted crossing her arms like a child.
Amren rolled her silver swirled eyes, “Go to the Hewn City. Maybe going to spend some time with your father will do you good.” Mor’s straightened but not before shooting me one more glare. She left not before bumping into Cassian’s shoulder.
Amren’s silver eyes gleamed at me, assessing, a smirk on her red painted lips “You are a fierce one, girl. You are not afraid to put someone in their place and you’re quickly becoming my favorite human I have come in contact with.” Her face fell slightly, “But tread carefully with Mor. She is not an enemy you wish to have; you’ll learn why when you meet who sired her.” She nodded her head toward me a silent goodbye and left Cassian and I alone in the hallway.
Cassian was on me the instant the short female made it down the stairs. He assessed my face for injuries, and his nostrils flared at the scratch on my face, “Stop.” I whispered.
His response came quickly. “No.”
“Cassian, I’m-“
“Don’t you dare say your fine when you’re trembling like a leaf.” I looked down to see my hands violently shaking. His hands covered mine to his steady fingers forcing mine to still. “I’m right here, Princess.” He whispered.
“She threatened to hurt Feyre because of me.” I met his hazel eyes.
His expression darkened, “We should tell Rhys.”
I shook my head, “Can we wait? Maybe this was a one-time thing.”
Cassian sighed kissing both of my knuckles wrapped in his warm grasp. “I don’t like it. If it happens again, we tell Rhys. Got it?”
I nodded my head and Cassian released my hands to carry me in his arms. “Come on. We’re going to bed.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry me to his room. The scent of Leather and Sandalwood comforting me, so my eyes drooped closed. Cassian murmuring something I couldn’t decipher as I fell asleep.
To Be Continued...
Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175 @blackgirlmagicforever
#cassian x reader#acotar fanfiction#cassian acotar#acotar#cassian x you#cassian imagine#cassian fanfic#archeron sister#feyre archeron#rhysand acotar#azriel acotar#cassian smut
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Apple Pie
summary: you and hotch spend the first of many christmases together.
pairing: fem!reader x college!aaron hotchner
contents: explicit language, best friends to lovers, mention of a deceased parent, internal angst/sadness, food mention, fluff, kissing
wc: 1,756
A/N: me writing a hotch fic? more likely than you think! merry christmas to my hotchgirls (and everyone else of course) who celebrates ❤️
cm masterlist
He doesn’t understand why he misses it. There was never anything special about his home on Christmas. No expected pile of presents under the tiny tree that was always falling apart– is probably falling apart in his mother’s living room right now. No extended family gathering together around a table. No Sunday mass, or other family tradition.
His father was never there and for that he was grateful. The haul was always modest, a few present for him, a few for Sean. Sometimes there would be a can of cinnamon rolls popped open, filling the house with spiced warmth, eaten with chocolate milk. Other times he would just scavenge, always making sure to share whatever he found with Sean. Oatmeal or some cereal with raisins in it, sprinkled with sugar.
It was never much but it was home. It was Hotchner Christmas.
He makes the decision early to not go home. There’s nothing there for him— Sean is in juvie, his mom is working herself to the bone to keep up with bills. His father is dead. So he stays on campus.
And for once in his life, Aaron feels lucky because you stay in town too.
“Why aren’t you going home again?” He asks a couple days before the break starts. The two of you are sitting on the couch in your apartment after dinner, one of the classic Christmas claymations playing on the tv.
You shrug, taking a sip from the warm mug of hot chocolate in your hands, “Christmas is their anniversary, they’re taking a trip and we’ll do all the family stuff when they get back.”
He hums in response, turning his eyes back to the screen though his mind drifts elsewhere.
Aaron can’t think about how different your experiences with the holiday are. How much love filled your home when the season rolled around. Jealousy would bubble up inside of him if he didn’t care for you so much. You’ve become the most important person on the planet to him in the short time that you’ve known one another and he only wishes good things for you.
As if you can hear his thoughts you lean your head on his shoulder and ask, “What’s Christmas like at your house?”
“Even when my father was alive he wouldn’t be there…he was off…doesn’t matter. My mom tried. She did the best that she could with what we had, what my father gave her,” His voice is somber, and you can’t tell if its because he misses it or never wants it to happen again.
Regardless you nod, deciding to leave any of the other questions that popped up in your head from that description alone to fade away. Aaron always has this melancholy that surrounds him and you’d never want to contribute to it. In fact, you do everything you can to always make him smile, an expression that is almost reserved just for you.
“Since we’re both staying here, what do you think about me coming over for Christmas?”
“What could we possibly do in my miniscule dorm room for Christmas?”
“Alright, then you come over to mine,” You suggest easily.
—
He’s standing in the parking lot of your apartment building near his car like a nervous idiot and he’s not quite sure why. That’s not entirely true, any time he’s alone with you he’s nervous because you’re…well you’re you. Bright and sweet, always reminding him that there are things and people worth enduring this life for. But, this is different– you don’t share Christmas with anyone, especially not you. With how you’ve talked about your Christmas traditions, this is a big deal.
You’re sharing a piece of your home with him, something he’d never do because his home for as long as he can remember has been broken.
When you open the door, you’re in Christmas in pajamas, green with a Christmas lights pattern all over it just like the tree. He couldn’t keep a straight face if he tried, not with the way your eyes light up when they drop to the plain green sweater he has on.
“You’re here and you’re festive!”
He looks down at the sweater skeptically, “I tried.”
“It’s perfect,” You insist, pulling him inside.
Your apartment is cozy— all the main lights are off because you’ve covered the space in soft white Christmas lights. There’s Christmas music playing low in the background, a tree much too large for the space nestled in the corner of the living room. There are trinkets and knick knacks everywhere. Christmas has effectively exploded in your apartment.
He raises an eyebrow at you as he sheds his coat, “You’ve gone all out I see.”
“It’s your first Christmas away from home, it should be special.”
“Trust me, I didn’t expect all of this,” He gestures around loosely.
“Well, its the first Christmas that we’ve ever spent together. So it’s extra special. C’mon.”
You grab his hand leading him into the kitchen and his heart jumps in his chest. The warmth of your hand is gone quickly as you reach for two martini glasses rimmed with sugar and filled with a deep burgundy liquid. That smile is still on your face as you hold them up near your cheeks, looking proud of yourself.
“What’s this?”
“A cranberry spritz.” You hold it out to him and when he eyes it cautiously you add, “Non-alcoholic just how you like. I also have eggnog if you’d prefer it.”
That furrow between his eyebrows smooths out, a small smile on his lips as he takes it, “This is good, thanks.”
Your returning smile is bright as always as you gesture to the stool at the island, “Sit, dinner’s almost ready.”
Dinner is intricate by his standards; a roast chicken with a sauce that’s light and garlicky, mashed potatoes, and a mixed vegetable dish that he could easily eat every day for the rest of life. Ignoring his protests and grumbles, you plate dinner not only for yourself and him, turning on The Grinch before sliding into the island stool next to him.
“Didn’t know you could cook this well, you’ve been feeding us grilled cheeses all semester.”
“Cooking like this is expensive, Aaron,” You remind him teasingly.
“I know, I appreciate it— really, you didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Should we take a shot of eggnog every time you say something like that tonight?”
He gives you a scolding look that makes you giggle. You stand, bumping his shoulder playfully and he tries to join you, reaching for his plate but you quickly snatch it, hand coming down on his shoulder.
“Stay put, I’ll take that. There’s dessert too.”
“Dessert?”
“You expected Christmas dinner without dessert? What’s next, you don’t think I got you anything?”
“I knew you’d be stubborn and not listen so I didn’t waste my breath.”
“Good,” You say with a smile on your face, happy that he’ll accept the gifts you got him, but also because it feels good to be known by him.
With your hands tucked safely into bright red oven mitts, you retrieve the apple pie from the oven, steam escaping from the intricate design you carved into the crust.
Aaron blinks, something soft stirring deep in his chest, “Apple pie.”
“It’s your favorite,” You simply, not noticing the way his voice changes as you continue to examine the pie.
“You know you didn’t have to do all this for me.”
“We’re at two shots of eggnog now. Who said I did it just for you?” You tease softly, before turning towards him, your expression growing serious. “You deserve it, Aaron. Thorough holidays, your favorite dessert, every reason to smile. You deserve it all.”
That feeling that’s been sitting in his chest, bubbling softly turns into a rolling boil, one he can no longer ignore. He reaches for your hand and pulls you close, a soft sound of surprise leaving you as he presses his lips to yours. You melt immediately, clutching at his shoulders as he licks into your mouth. While the kiss is overall gentle, there’s an undercurrent of hunger that’s obvious in the strength of his grip and insistence of his tongue. I’m the desperate whimper that slips from his throat and echoes into yours. He breaks the kiss eventually, resting his forehead against your own as your breaths mingle.
“The mistletoe is actually over there,” You whisper against his lips stupidly.
He looks at you with disbelief, mouth agape before determination materializes in his eyes. Moving you both to the mistletoe, he kisses you again, this time it’s softer and less heated.
“Better?”
“Honestly, I think I liked the one over there a—“
He cuts you off with another kiss, cupping your face in his hands. He kisses you. Kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, like it’s his job. Like it’s his dying wish and the grim reaper has come for you.
“As much as I love losing air in the name of sucking face, the pie’s gonna get cold and I made it just for you,” You mumble, running your hands up and down his chest.
“Don’t call it sucking face,” He grumbles, cheeks going pink as he lets you go.
You move towards your baked masterpiece, inhaling its sweet, cinnamon-y scent. “Snogging?”
He gives you an exasperated look, but you can see the way his lips twitch, the fondness in his gaze as he moves towards you.
“Kiss-a-rama? Lip Olympics? Lip-lock-a-doodle?” You muse, cutting a piece of pie for him and sliding him the plate.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And all yours,” You murmur with a smug smile, cutting a piece of pie for yourself.
Aaron’s flush deepens as he takes his place at the counter again. When you join him, he pulls your stool closer to his, wrapping his arm around you as the two of you eat and talk and kiss. The warm domesticity and soft excitement in the air has him feeling like this could be home. You could be home. A tradition he could look forward to.
Further into the night, the two of you are curled up on your couch as always— yet another Christmas movie playing— instead this time you’re firmly planted in Aaron’s lap with his arms wrapped tightly around you.
“Aaron?”
“Hmm?” He hums, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Let’s spend every Christmas together,” You suggest, as if you’d been reading his mind earlier.
He grins, raising his hand to your chin to pull you into a gentle kiss. “Yeah, let’s.”
cm taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @hotchsdoormat, @lefthandedhotch, @heliotropehotch, @zetasaturno99, @ssa-montgomery, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @wheelsupkels, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @greg-montgomery, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithwho , @rousethemouse, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @lesbianhotch
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#college!aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#arson writes
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Merlin Fic Prompts
Arthur gets separated and injured while on patrol and is taken in by the kind forest Druid Merlin who nurses Arthur back to health. During this time Arthur sees a side of magic he’s never been exposed to before and questions everything he’s been taught.
A series of letters Merlin’s writes to his mom telling her about his adventures in Camelot
Winter Soldier AU where Morgana discovers Merlin had magic but doesn’t know he’s Emrys. Uses the Fomarrah on him and instead of killing Arthur orders him to swear undying loyalty to her, to do anything she asks. Merlin essentially becomes like her Winter Soldier and wrecks havoc on villages. When Arthur hears about a dangerous sorcerer named Myrddin attacking villages he goes to investigates, still depressed about the lose of Merlin, and is shocked to discover that it Myrddin is Merlin except Merlin doesn’t remember him or anything before the fomarrah was implanted. Arthur now has a new goal of getting his best friend back and break Morgana’s hold on him.
The Purple Tunic. Merlin’s birthday comes and goes with no celebration, Gaius being overrun with patients and Merlin stuck with an impossibly long list of chores from Arthur. When Arthur learns that Merlin’s birthday had passed he feels bad and leaves the purple tunic for him in his room as a gift.
Arthur kills a Druid women and as she lays dying she roughly grabs his arm and curses him to experience suffer any wound he deals. Arthur struggles with his self worth now that he can’t protect his people as a knight without hurting himself
Arthur and Merlin get cursed so that whenever one gets hurt the other suffers the same wound (like Barbara and Strickler from Trollhunters)
Merthur WandaVision AU
S3 E12 AU where Merlin does actually fight Gwaine and Arthur is the one that has to be physically held back
Seeing Double. Merlin has always had a lot of work what with helping Gaius, being Arthur’s manservant, and saving everyone’s lives in a near daily basis. One day he is so busy he tries a new spell that’s suppose to create a double of you that lasts for 24 hours. Arthur thinks he’s going mad because he keeps seeing double of Merlin.
Mama’s Boy. Hunith is taken prisoner by some bandits and that sets Merlin on a warpath to get her back with Arthur at his side.
Merlin gets captured by a dark sorcerer who knows he’s Emrys and has him chained up in cold iron. While he’s imprisoned the sorcerer bloodlets him, planning to sell the blood of Emrys on the black market keep Merlin alive enough not to fight back.
Arthur falls and hurts his arm. Merlin examines it and diagnoses it, “You’ve fractured your ulna.” Gwaine perks up at this, “Ulna? I think I dated an Ulna once.”
While picking herbs for Gaius Merlin finds an injured and orphaned fox kit and brings it back with him. One day it gets out of his room and chaos ensues. He nearly catches it in Arthur’s room when Arthur returns and he tries to play it cool.
AU where as Freya lay dying in Merlin’s arms they get married, using blades of grass as their rings. The knights don’t notice at first but eventually one of them asks about it and Merlin gets all sad.
Merlin wakes in the middle of the night to someone breaking into Gaius’s chambers, covered in blood
A servant of two masters AU where instead of sending Merlin in to assassinate Arthur she makes a sting bulb of Merlin and sends it in. A day after it gets sent away Merlin breaks out of Morgana’s and races to save Arthur. Stabs a sword through his clone’s stomach. When it dies it turns into a pile of humus. Arthur starts to get suspicious of Plant!Merlin when he stops eating and he swears he saw Merlin stick his finger in water and drink it. Plant!Merlin also gets weak after long period’s without sunlight and ‘wilts’. Gwiane refuses to give up on his search for Merlin and sets out on his own. Finds Merlin in Morgana’s hovel and together they escape back to Camelot.
Modern Day Merlin, Merlin starts suffering from symptoms of Mahd Wy'ry which affects and causes him to have psychotic episodes at random, due to the weight of his memories. Leon finds him during one of these episodes.
That scene from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron where Merlin holds an injured Arthur on the banks of a river when the bad guys find them and tear them apart despite their pleas. The knights find Arthur and once he’s stronger they set out to save Merlin.
Merlin and Arthur argue that the other wouldn’t last a day in the others shoes so Arthur comes up with the idea of ‘swapping places’ while they are visiting another kingdom that has never met Arthur before. The knights are in on it. They swap clothes and for a week Merlin is Arthur and Arthur is Merlin.
When kids start disappearing in the middle of the night Merlin sets out to investigate and is nearly killed
Morgana visits Gaius because she feels nauseous and while she’s there she throws up on her dress. Merlin lets her borrow some of his clothes and Arthur walks in sees her and thinks they’re courting. Arthur gets jealous.
That scene from Disneys Robin Hood where they dress as fortune tellers but it’s Merlin and Arthur and they do it in order to get into a bandits keep without arousing suspicion and getting something of importance they stole (Arthurs mothers sigil? His mothers ring?)
Merlin has parasomnia and often wanders the castle at night, often to Arthurs room
Merlin opens a haven for magical creatures/beings/people. Arthur wanders into and is nearly drowned by a naiad but Merlin saves him
Merlin Tarzan AU with a hint of Valka from HTTYD2. Balinor refuses to help Uther trap the last dragon and instead frees it. He takes shelter in Ealdor where he falls in love and has a child with Hunith. One day Uther finds them and, finding themselves cornered with no chance of escape, Balinor calls upon Kilgarrah. Balinor is killed and Hunith is taken prisoner to be used as bait for Merlin someday. Kilgarrah takes baby Merlin to a safe haven for dragons where he is raised by dragons. Many years later Merlin heard about the legend of the dragon egg and sets out to find it. During this journey he meets Prince/King Arthur. Although rivals at first they soon realize they have the same goal, return magic and dragons to Camelot.
Dragonlord side effects. The days following the activation of his Dragonlord powers Merlin starts to experience some side effects. Each chapter is a different side effect.
After Arthur becomes king he reinstates the holiday Saturnalia. Merlin gets elected the “Mock King” giving him a free pass to cause as much mischief and mayhem as he would like
#bbc merlin#the adventures of merlin#merlin emrys#merlin bbc#arthur pendragon#merlin#king arthur#merlin fic#Merlin Fic prompts#fic prompt#fic prompts#fic ideas#fanfiction prompts#fanfic writing prompts#merlin fanfiction#merlin fanfic#writing prompts#merlin x arthur#bbc merthur#merthur#tag me if you use this
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Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday HC's
Based on this ask by @soulsforsales: How do you think the moon boys would treat you on your birthday???
Oh my goodness 🎂🎈🎉 Ok.
*angst warning, but mostly fluff
MARC
Birthdays are hard for Marc. So, so hard. They were when he felt most alone, forgotten and unseen.
It’s when he missed Randall so much he felt physically sick.
It’s when his mom refused to acknowledge her living son.
It’s when his dad made a feasible effort but ended up defending his abuser anyway.
So they’re difficult for Marc. But it’s your birthday. It’s you. And you would never.
Marc is going to overcompensate.
He had half-assed Home birthdays with no friends and a homemade cake. Those can be great if done well, but you’re worth more.
He’s going to make a reservation at an impressive restaurant the night before your birthday. It will be unique, intimate, romantic. Candlelight, soft music, delicious food and drinks.
You will have his undivided attention and be his only priority.
The fact that you are in the world is something he cherishes.
Intense eye contact will melt you into a puddle. He’ll keep reaching across the table for your hand.
He’ll pull out your chair and guide you along with his hand on the small of your back. Everyone will know you are his and this is a special day for you.
You barely make it out of the restaurant, just a touch blissfully tipsy, when his lips crash into yours
JAKE
^idk why I keep seeing this Drive guy as Jake lol
Jake will be celebrating, probably on the weekend closest to your birthday, maybe the night after.
There will be singing, in more than one language.
There will probably be dancing even if it’s just a quick couple of Salsa steps around the kitchen.
He cooks for you, making a huge mess. But it's yummy.
He wants you to smile and laugh. He wants to make you feel as amazing as you always make him feel.
He tried to decorate your cake, but it's hilariously bizarre. The two of you try to fix it and get into a frosting war.
It gets on the tip of your nose and cheek. Jake swipes it away and submits his thumb to your lips for cleaning.
You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across the pad of his thumb before sucking it into your mouth.
Then you get the rest of your birthday present. For the rest of the night.
STEVEN
Steven doesn’t quite remember a lot of birthdays - not childhood ones anyway.
Memories are either absent, confusing, or completely a false shadow of what really happened to them.
He has to sort out his feelings about birthdays.
But again, this isn’t his birthday, it’s yours.
He’s waiting for you when you wake up. “Happy birthday, love.” He wants you to know right away that he’s remembered.
He gazes into your eyes and traces your lips with his fingertips.
"Steven," you whisper as he brushes his lips over yours.
You're late to work because of him.
He's done little things for you: your lunch is prepared, your favorite tea or coffee is in your favorite mug.
Your favorite sweater is clean and warmed in the dryer. He wraps you up in it before you leave.
When you get to work, there are flowers delivered, with a card. He is a classic romantic after all.
When you arrive home, he is positively giddy. He’s planned a scavenger hunt for you. It’s full of mischief and riddles.
You follow the clues, watching Steven's gorgeous brown eyes sparkle with excitement as his soft voice lovingly encourages you from clue to clue.
You finally get to the end and discover your present. Steven's taking you away on a trip.
Of course Marc and Jake will show up too.
The boys end up saying "Happy Birthweek" after a couple years of this. You’re worth a lot of celebrating.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Askbox
#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight headcanons#moon boys#tw food#tw drinking
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ona batlle fic recs
you are responsible for the content you consume‼️
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
◡̈ crush by @putellas14 ona batlle x reader
-reader tells alexia she likes ona while ona has a similar conversation with Jenni. can the team moms make these two get over their issues to tell each other how they feel?
◡̈ you didn't see anything? by @katelynnwrites ona batlle x reader | includes smut, skip the first few paragraphs if that’s something you’re uncomfortable with
-you and ona get interrupted during some rather interesting activities, clueing your national team in on your relationship
◡̈ on top of the world by ^ ona batlle x reader | smut, 1.2k
-ona celebrates her win at old trafford with you
◡̈ insegura by @footygirl114 ona batlle x reader
-feeling like you weren’t worth it was the norm for you, you have always struggled to break into the national team.
◡̈ falling (for you) by @randombush3 ona batlle x reader | 1.5k
-despite your precision on the pitch, you are somehow the clumsiest person ever when you are off it. your girlfriend doesn’t really mind though.
◡̈ good girl by @wosowrites ona batlle x reader | smut (praise k!nk)
-in which it’s ona and the readers first time sleeping together so the reader gets really nervous, resulting in ona taking over and showing her dominant side.
◡̈ puppy by @alexiabae aitana bonmatí x fem!reader x ona batlle | fluff
-aitana's jaw clenched immediately when she noticed who was laying on the ground. she ran quickly to her, pushing the rival away.
◡̈ red card by @skipper1331 ona batlle x reader
-el clasico. intense. exhausting. harsh.
#woso x reader#woso#woso imagines#espwnt#espwnt x reader#barca fc#barca femeni#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#fic recs
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do you have any ideas for an au where sanji was raised a vinsmoke but like by a good family? whether judge is good or not is up to you, but sanji grew up with a supportive mom and a caring sister and brothers he isnt afraid of, but he never fit in with germas plans so he left to learn how to cook (maybe the whole rock starvation thing happens still?) and then later becomes a pirate and just. forgets to tell his crew that hes a real life superhero prince until one random day one of his brothers shows up to take him home to celebrate mothers day. law has so many questions.
Sora kills Judge because she deserves it😊. Maybe Sanji gets kidnapped and that's how the rock happens and Zeff and the kid are saved by Sanji's suited up siblings berating them. Zeff teaches Sanji and lets him work and stuff and Baratie is frequented by royalty often. They look like superheros but those are the princes and the princess of Germa visiting their brother.
Like Zou instead of WCI The Hats, the Heart crew and Cesar are met on Zou by Ichiji whose looking at his normal, "normal", brother and this tattooed guy and his crew who are freaking out for a different reason from Cesar and Sanji is like "why are you here"
"mother's day"
"FUCK"
"so like are they coming or am I kidnapping you?" Ichiji asks as he looks at everyone Law immediately says they're going, Kaido can wait. They have Caesar nothing is going to happen so they sail to meet up with the Germa fleet and Law is freaking out as the fucking Germa 66 is in front of him and they're Sanji's family? Sanji is royalty? Everyone is losing it. They're all greeted and treated well. Sanji explains he technically isn't royalty because he gave up his title and everything because he didn't jive with the whole thing. That and there's a lot less kidnapping attempts on him now.
Niji is getting ready to show them to where the picnic is going to be held (in a gazebo above Judge's grave because the bastard has to see them be happy and thrive and live this way[and Sora is too much a lady to build an outhouse on it] so ha fucker) when Law just grabs Sanji and demands answers. Niji on instinct grabs Law, yanks him off Sanji and shocks him. Sora walking in with Reiju and Yonji at the tail end of it and Brook is diable jambe'd so hard it cracks the wall before he can even ask.
Zoro and Yonji are staring at each other as Ichiji is groaning. Sora simply nods at all of this. This is Sanji after all. He's been kidnapped and held ransom so many times that it's probably second nature to go after anyone who lays a hand on him. He's probably kidnapped a whole bunch from Baratie.
"I got a call from Zeff, he said incidents at Baratie have gone down since you left. You would do better to call though." Sora would chide.
"sorry, we just declared war on Big Mom and Kaido. Also feeding this thing is really time consuming." Sanji says with a hand on Luffy's shoulder.
"I'm Luffy! I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!" The usual introduction as Sora laughs and meets them all and shakes their hand. They go eat and all their tastes are catered to as Yonji.
When Robin asks where the former king's grave is Sora laughs and says they're on it. He wasn't worth anything and he's lucky there was any of him left to bury. Everyone but her kids are staring at her.
"Blackleg what the fuck." Law groans as he eats his onigiri.
#loved!sanji#black leg sanji#trafalgar law#monkey d. luffy#the vinsmokes#vinsmoke sora#answers#vinsmoke siblings#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#vinsmoke yonji#vinsmoke sanji
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I love my mom but the lying and guilt tripping gets to be so much sometimes.
IE she overheard me talking about getting my brother a ticket to fly to comic con with us. She got pissed about money (fair enough I guess since he still lives with her and my dad) but then I brought up we were helping, and she got mad at me saying she missed my college graduation because of money so why didn't we help?
I just about lost it. I BEGGED her to come. I offered to pay for all the hotels or plane tickets. She's scared of flying so wouldn't do that, and won't let my dad go anywhere without her, so that was a no. And she said the drive was way too long, she'd be really uncomfortable, and my dad couldn't take that long off work.
She didn't come because she didn't think it was important. Bottom line.
In fact, I even mentioned at one point before the graduation I was grateful, as much as the pandemic sucked, that the graduation would be getting livestreamed because it meant she and my dad would see it no matter what. And she (granted, drinking at the time, but still) said it was horrible for me to celebrate people dying just so I could have a graduation.
EVERY TIME I brought up my graduation, she never showed the slightest interest, nor the slightest bit of sympathy that she was missing it. She went out of her way to blame me, act like I was the one being unreasonable. She continued showing absolutely no interest for my Masters graduation, so that I ended up not even bothering to travel (online program) because I knew no one would be there for me anyway, so why bother.
I didn't even get to go to my high school graduation, because it was an online program on the other side of the state. I had to be held back a year when depression hampered my academic performance, and my older siblings had already dropped out; in desperation, trying to motivate me not to do the same, my dad promised me that if I made it, they would too. So I worked through, got the credits I needed... and nope. My mom screamed that my dad spent too much on getting the car up to pass inspection standards (how does that even make sense) and that we therefore couldn't afford to go. So I didn't get to attend that either.
And you know what? Honestly, I made my peace with it- with the fact that my mom will never care about me the way she cares about my sister, that she just doesn't think my successes are worth celebrating (unless she can brag to someone online to seem like a good parent, I guess) and lacks the empathy to understand why me having my parents with me at major life events is a big deal. I worked through that and made my peace with it and have quietly decided I am not even going to bother inviting them to any future events I have, unless maybe I get married one day, I guess, though I feel she'd still try to find excuses not to go to that if it was more than a four hour drive from her.
I could deal with all that. But she fucking LIED about it to guilt trip me. She lied that she WANTED to come and it was money preventing her. That I never tried to help her get to me. And that's the part that hurts the most. That she wasn't there to celebrate when it mattered, but now has the nerve to lie about it and play victim, as though I'm the reason she wasn't there.
She always does this shit! When I was a senior in undergrad, there was an undergraduate research symposium everyone in my major was required to present at. It was ALSO on Zoom, so no excuse not to make it. I asked her and my dad multiple times if they'd like to see my present my research paper on a Japanese death cult and the effects it had on Japanese culture. They BOTH declined. So I invited my grandma, who was happy to be invited, and my best friend even walked her through setting up Zoom for the first time. AFTER the event, when I was telling my mom and dad on the phone about my grandma loving my presentation, THEN my mom got livid and said she had NEVER been invited, and of COURSE she would have come if she had the chance, why did I invite my grandma and not her?
She doesn't want to share in important things with me but then she gets pissed if I then share them with others instead. I guess she wants to feel so important that her declining would make me refuse entirely instead (as with my Masters degree ceremony?) I don't know.
I'm just tired of this man.
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Sanji never celebrated his birthday when he was a kid, quite obviously. At least not in a regular way and not with his siblings. But he did visit his mom at the hospital, tried to make the best of cakes (because she always asked him to) and blew out the candles right in front of her wishing and wishing and wishing for her to get better. For them to have a happy ending. Sora always said that if he wished hard enough, it would come true.
It didn't. But Sanji knew, even at a young age, deep inside, that it wouldn't.
So he starts living with Zeff and his birthday is not something he sees worth celebrating. But the man asks him about it one day and the date March 2th is written all over his face when he tries to find an excuse to not tell him. And it's alright, he guesses, because at the end of the day Zeff isn't that big on birthdays either.
The kid has it rough on that day when it first comes, and Zeff doesn't know what to do. What to gift him. He doesn't know how kids his age behave and what they like. Especially since Sanji is not a regular kid. So for his 10th birthday, Zeff tells him he's going to teach him how to bake a proper cake. That makes Sanji extremely happy, somehow. He is not a normal kid, but he sure is a cook. So there isn't a party or eccentric gifts, but there is cake.
Zeff starts giving him proper gifts when he turns fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Ties and suits and shoes and every pretty thing his son has mentioned he liked ever since he saw a very rich businessman walking into the Baratie dressing like that with a woman hugging his side. "It's gentleman's attire! You wouldn't get it!" and look, if the kid wants his snob suits, Zeff won't complain. They have more than enough money for shit like that.
They have a real birthday party when he turns eighteen. And he's all grown and pissed about how he could've made the cake better in his own and acting like an ungrateful brat. But he smiles. Widely and brightly and Zeff couldn't love him more.
So it's not like Sanji hates his birthday... But he doesn't tell the crew about it. He gets sad and weird and in an on and off mode. He doesn't want them to make a big deal out of it and he knows they probably will. He won't stop thinking about his mom, either. So he avoids the crew a little bit too much on that day.
And Usopp notices he's acting weird, because how could he not? Sanji has been oddly quiet and polite to everyone in a gloomy, nostalgic way. Everybody is worried and Luffy tries to cheer him up, but it only ends up bothering Sanji more, from Usopp's perspective. The sniper tries not to be clingy because he knows his boyfriend and he knows that if he's in one of his sad moods, affection will only make him sadder. So he stays next to him, but not too close. Enough to see Sanji smile now and then.
The day goes on and it's time to go to bed, but Usopp notices Sanji is still in the kitchen and decides to change his night shift with Franky because he really, really needs to stay awake to look after him. He refuses to invade his privacy and space, so he just stays close to the kitchen in case he gets out.
But curiosity killed the cat, and he's also extremely concerned. So he decides to look inside.
He sees Sanji, sitting down at the dining table with a tiny, little cupcake and a candle. He's holding a picture Usopp knows well because Sanji keeps it in a tiny treasure chest inside his locker. His mom. And he smiles apologetically. "Sorry it couldn't be a real cake, mom. I wasn't that much in the mood? But hey! I- I improved, didn't I?" Usopp can't see his face that clearly, but he knows, from the tone of his voice, that he's probably about to cry. "I wish- I wish you were here. I'm twenty-two now! You said you liked that number, right? It does look like a duck, after all."
He keeps talking, but Usopp closes the door gently without Sanji noticing. Shit.
It might not be the best idea, but Usopp decides to leave him a little thing under the door. A note wishing him a happy birthday and some flowers. The note also has a drawing of two ducks in it.
The next day, the first thing Sanji tells him when he wakes up (Usopp noticing the flowers placed on a glass vase and the edge of his note sticking out of that same treasure chest from before) is: "Hey, love, would you- Would you like to try and bake a cake with me? It'd be fun."
And Usopp couldn't smile wider even if he tried.
#sanji is just like me fr my brithday makes me extremely sad#he's the light of my life i am sorry i am always making him suffer#but yknow at least he has a happy ending yay#god i am going to be so sanji focused today#good morning btw#black leg sanji#usopp#sanuso#one piece
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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 5/10
Part 6 and 7 are out on my Patreon!
Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.
Enjoy!
"Ahhh." Ruben winced.
"Please, I didn't even touch you."
"Have you even shaved someone's beard before?"
You hadn't. However, you convinced Ruben to let you trim his before the doctor's appointment he had that afternoon.
You set up a makeshift barber station in the living room, complete with a mirror, clippers, and a pair of scissors. Ruben sat down in a chair, and you got to work, carefully trimming his beard to the perfect length.
"Just hold still Ruben, you're being a big baby."
"I'm being a what?"
"A big baby."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." You said, grabbing a hold of his chin to prevent him from moving his head again. However, he kept on snapping it your way, like the bandage that covered his eyes was to no use.
"Just don't cut my throat." He mumbled.
"Why are you so grumpy today?"
"Am I?"
"Yes, Ruben. Even your mom said so."
"You spoke to my mom, when?"
"I called her and thought I'd invite her to come to your doctor's appointment."
"And? What did she say?"
"Unfortunately she's busy."
"Good."
"Good?" You frowned. "Ruben, don't you want someone other than me to come with you to this appointment? Today's test results might mean that you get to remove your bandages completely."
"No." Ruben muttered. "I don't want them to be disappointed."
It has happened before. Ruben's previous test results had denied him his eyesight. Perhaps he didn't dare to raise his own or his family's expectations anymore. However, you remained optimistic. So optimistic that when you arrived at the doctor's office that day, you were squeezing Ruben's arm in anticipation of his results. You were so happy when the tests indicated that Ruben's brain activity had reached a healthier state, allowing his senses to be a bit more stimulated again.
"Alright, Mr Dias," The doctor said, tugging the bandage away from Ruben's eyes. "Or perhaps I should say, welcome back."
It was a beautiful moment. You watched Ruben bat his eyes as the daylight struck them. Once they were adjusted he turned his head, discovering the world like a curious child.
"Is it blurry?" You asked.
Ruben's eyes met yours in a heartfelt moment that seemed to stop the motion of everything around you.
"Y/N?" He seemed unsure. Perhaps he had another picture of you in his mind. Nevertheless, you smiled at him and he smiled back at you. You would have gone on smiling forever if it hadn't been for Ruben's brother spamming your phone with hundreds of text messages.
"That's weird."
"What is?" Ruben asked, seeing the furrowed expression on your face.
"Ivan wants us to meet him downtown. He says it's urgent."
It was an odd place to meet. Outside of a black brick building. Outside the back of it, where the dumpster were kept.
"Ivan what's going on?" Ruben asked. "Why are we in Deansgate of a places?"
Ivan grinned at the sight of his brother. It hit you that it was the first time in a long time that he had seen Ruben without bandages covering his eyes. "Happy birthday brother." Ivan said, pulling Ruben in for a hug.
"Happy birthday day Ruben."
You clenched the phone in your hand as he turned to you.
"You knew?" He frowned.
You shrugged. "Why did you think I fought to shave your beard?"
It wasn't a hard kept secret. You got the date of Ruben's birthday off the internet. However, when you asked his family about it they informed you that Ruben really didn't care much for birthdays, that he hadn't celebrated one in years. Nevertheless, you insisted that today was worth celebrating, considering the high chances of Ruben getting his bandages taken off.
"Come on bro, everyone's waiting." Ivan gestured for the two of you to follow him through the backdoor. It led you through a corridor lit up by neon lights. And as you followed the sound of the music, you were taken aback by how many they were.
"Surprise!"
You had expected Ruben's family and a handful of friends to help surprise Ruben on his birthday. However, there were about a hundred people greeting you as you entered.
"Happy birthday you minger." A man with slick back hair patted Ruben on the shoulder.
"Jack, you came?"
Ruben seemed equally surprised that so many of friends showed up.
"Of course I came." The man laughed. "Your mom is cooking, isn't she?"
It was my first time seeing Ruben, laughing without being sarcastic. Not one of those half hearted laughs that he would give you. But a real laugh, that made the corners of his eyes crease.
"Come on man, you won't believe what Kyle bought you."
"Kyle is here?"
"Everyone's here."
You watched as Ruben was ushered away by his friends. They weren't just regular people. You recognized many of them from TV and magazines. There were football players, supermodels, luxury brand owners and the list went on. It hit you how small you were in Ruben's world. Perhaps how insignificant the part you played was.
"Pretty cool, eh?"
"Max."
It calmed your heart to see a familiar face. Max, who dressed up for the occasion, replacing his tracksuit with a jacket and tie.
"I can't believe you got him to come." He said.
"What can I say, I'm a great liar."
"You mean you're a great actress."
"Why thank you." You bowed your head with courtesy.
"Ruben is really lucky to have you in his life. Me too."
"Stop it." You blushed. "You've only known me for three weeks."
"Yes, but I've seen nurses come and go within a day. Trust me, Ruben likes you."
"You think so?" His words aroused something within you. A sudden need to run into Ruben's arms and beg him to never let you go.
"I know so." Max winked. "Now enjoy the party, kid. But not too much. You're still on the clock."
You rolled your eyes as Max went away. Unlike you, he seemed so close to everyone in Ruben's family. His brother, his mother...They all loved him for everything he has done.
"Y/N, right?"
You turned around hearing someone call your name. "Joshua?"
********************************************
Ruben had been out of commission for weeks, ever since he had suffered a severe head trauma. But that didn't stop him from meeting up with his friends. It had been Ruben's own choice to avoid people for so long. Limiting himself to a sphere where only he existed and where the world revolved around him. All that changed when he met you. Now he found himself out and about again, taking the next steps to becoming the man he really was, the man you deserved to know him as.
"How about another round of shots!" His friends cheered. The majority of them were his teammates. And when it came to alcohol consumption, Jack Grealish was in charge.
As they made their way to the bar, Ruben could feel his heart racing. The lights and sound of the music was a bit overwhelming, and he could feel a sense of nausea kicking in. He tried to push through it, but it quickly became clear that he was in over his head.
"You good, man?" Asked John, another one of his teammates.
"I....I think I need to go," he said, voice shaking. "I'm feeling really sick."
Ruben rushed in the direction where he had come from, in the direction where he had left you. Although his vision had begun to deceive him, he recognized your silhouette from far away. You stood talking to some guy, a guy Ruben didn't know. It made his blood boil more than it already was. And by the look on your face Ruben appeared just the way he felt.
"Oh my God, Ruben, are you okay?"
You took one look at him and knew that he was in trouble. "Come on, we'll get you home," you said, taking his arm and leading him out of the club.
As you walked, Ruben could feel his nausea getting worse and worse. The bright lights of the city were like knives stabbing into his brain, and the sound of the traffic was like a never-ending drumbeat. He knew that he needed to get out of there, and fast.
Finally, you made it back to Ruben's apartment, where you helped Ruben into bed. He lay there, feeling the nausea wash over him like a wave, but at least he was in a safe place.
"I'll call Max and tell him where we went."
"No, just..." Ruben grunted. "Stay with me."
"Ruben, I think it's best if I call a doctor first to let them..."
"Please." Ruben used all his strength to grab your arm, desperately needing you by his side. "Stay with me, please."
You seemed conflicted but eventually gave in, kicking off your shoes and joining Ruben under the covers. He kept his eyes closed, his breath brushing past your cheek as you lay face to face.
"Thank you." He whispered. "For getting me out of there."
You smiled and stroked his hair. "You're going to be okay. We'll take things slow, and you'll be back to normal in no time."
Ruben nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards you. It was actually more than a sense. If the choice was his he would live and die this way, with you in his arms, your hands in his hair.
He opened his eyes to see the look of concentration that you had and how that look faltered when you caught him staring.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Ruben…I don't think that's a good idea."
"I disagree." He chuckled. "I think it's the best idea I've ever had."
Silence crept. Ruben had gone to shut his eyes again, assuming that you had done the same. But then there was movement, a slight dip in the bed as the warmth from your body enclosed on him. Ruben's eyes flickered as he felt your soft lips brush against his. It was a gentle kiss. One that cured him of his nausea.
"Don't open your eyes." You whispered.
"Will you be here in the morning?" Ruben stretched out his arms to wrap around you, pulling you close. You let him, and cuddled your head to rest under his chin.
"I will be here, but not in your bed."
"Fair enough." Ruben yawned. At least he had this moment. A moment when you belong to him and only him.
Part 6 and 7 are out on my Patreon!
#fanfiction#football imagine#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#ruben dias#man city#football angst#manchester city#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine
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Today's (10/30/2024) Episode: An Evening of Contests
After a morning spent gaming and learning indoors, Luigi’s family and their foundation friends were ready to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine.
He’d prepared a fun and wholesome event to cap off the foundation livestream, gathering everyone on a nearby beach. Isra, who still worked at the Observe to Conserve foundation took point, explaining a bit of the conservation work they did, and also specifically how trash left on the beach by careless Sims could harm not just the beauty of the environment, but also the health of the native plants and animals living there.
Then she and Luigi showed off a collection of prizes. They divided the attendees into small groups and promised first choice of prizes to whichever group collected the most trash over the next hour or so.
The kids of various ages were excited to roam up and down the beach, picking up anything that didn’t belong and collecting inventories full of trash they hoped to exchange for priority access to one prize or another they had liked.
Some of them, especially the younger ones, were perhaps a bit more distracted exploring the pretty beach than cleaning it, but Isra had experience with this. As they got closer to the designated time she made regular announcements, and by the last 5 minutes everyone was clustered around the last few uncleaned feet of beach hunting for last minute “treasures”.
Yoshi collected great footage of it all, including Isra’s little awards ceremony and her final pitch for the kids to keep Sulani Beautiful as they left.
After the kids dispersed with their winnings, Luigi headed back to the gaming center where he had arranged to meetup with Professor Silva.
He wasn’t the only one looking forward to seeing his old faculty mentor. A number of his old Foxbury E-Sports teammates came too, engaging in an impromptu mini-tourney. Much to the chagrin of the professional e-sports players there, Luigi’s college fling Jade won the day.
Yoshi was taking a charging break, but Skye captured several pictures of his father’s defeat, not that Lawbourne senior was too broken up about his loss. “Some of my fondest memories are playing games with you guys at the University commons, and this was a great walk down memory lane!”
“If you’re up for more reminiscing, the E-Sports team has their big game coming up in just a few hours” Professor Silva mentioned. “I’d love for you all to head back to campus with me and cheer on my current crew; maybe pick out your favorites for the Rainy Day internship program?”
Noemi and several others were only too happy to spin into their winter wear and teleport to the stadium at their old Alma Mater.
“Your mom and I made so many great memories here” Luigi told his son as they walked through campus. “When you’re old enough we should take the college tour so you can see everything Foxbury has to offer.” Skye nodded shyly, not wanting to disappoint his parents, but in truth the big, cold lot intimidated him. He wasn’t so sure about this whole “university” thing.
The game was well worth the price of admission. The two teams were neck and neck all evening, but in the end, for the first time in a long time, Foxbury won the day. “You did it – congrats man!” Luigi enthused to his old mentor as they were leaving the stadium.
“Thank you for supporting the team,” Coach Silva replied, “I’ve got to get back to my champions, but your advice and help made a big difference.”
By the time the game ended it was quite late, but no one wanted to go to bed without ringing in the new year. To that end they made their way back to the gaming center to end the evening in style.
“Shushubie… shushubie… Fleeba Zoob!” the large group of Luigi’s favorite sims cried as the New Year’s countdown ticked over to midnight.
A recharged Yoshi was cruising the crowd with the other streaming cameras, capturing the celebration as everyone thanked their viewers for contributing to the big fundraiser earlier in the day. With hugs all around, and a strange question from Skye about how long teeth took to digest (where, Luigi wondered, did kids get these ideas!?) the large happy family started the new year off right: with a dance party of course.
Luigi didn’t know how things would look a year from now, but it seemed unlikely he’d be able to top that day’s accomplishments.
View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here
#sims 4#sims 4 challenge#sims 4 legacy#sims4#sims 4 nsb#sims4nsbstraud#sims 4 not so berry#sims 4 let's play#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 lets play
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With spring on its way out, I thought it would be fun to do a quick roundup of some contemporary romances. Here are three that are out this month--which ones are on your reading list?
Bite Me, Royce Taslim by Lauren Ho Disney Hyperion
Agnes Chan never expected to be the punchline of her own life . . .
But how else do you explain getting accidentally run over and seeing a lifetime of careful preparation, endless training, and all your hopes of a track scholarship to college destroyed in a split second? Not to mention the only witness to your humiliation being your #1 archnemesis, Royce Taslim.
So, when Agnes finds a new answer to her scholarship predicament in the form of an international stand-up comedy contest for teens, the last person she expects to be up against is also the last person she wants to Royce. Because for years Royce has represented everything Agnes extreme privilege, popularity, and physical perfection (ok maybe she doesn’t hate that part so much).
Behind the scenes, though, Royce’s flawless façade fades away, revealing someone Agnes never expected—someone who shows her that perhaps the best parts of life are the ones you aren’t prepared for—and as the competition heats up, so do things between these two rivals. But will the pressure to win be too much for them to handle—or will Agnes (and Royce) get the last laugh?
Queerceañera by Alex Crespo HarperTeen
Joaquin Zoido is out and proud of it. And while he knew his dad and sister, Carmen, would be super supportive, he wasn’t quite ready for them to surprise him with a queerceañera, a coming out party to celebrate him. Between all the talks of tastings and venues, and the chirping of his family’s RSVP texts, the question of who will be his chambelán is on everyone’s minds.
What Joaquin is decidedly trying to not think about is whether his mom is going attend or if she’s finally replaced him with her favorite godson, Felix—the boy who made Joaquin realize he was gay and who was his first kiss. But when an impromptu lie snowballs into a full-fledged family-group-chat rumor, every Zoido from Texas to Mexico starts believing that Felix is not only Joaquin’s chambelán but also his brand-new boyfriend.
To avoid the pity and sympathies of an ill-timed breakup, Joaquin and Felix strike a deal—they’ll stay fake boyfriends until the party. Yet, as the day draws nearer and old feelings spark anew, Joaquin will have to decide whether a picture-perfect queerceañera with a fake boyfriend is worth giving up the chance of something real.
True Love and Other Impossible Odds by Christina Li Quill Tree Books
College freshman Grace Tang never meant to rewrite the rules of love. She came to college to move on from a grief-stricken senior year and to start anew. So she follows a predictable Attend class, study, go home and visit her dad every weekend. She doesn’t leave any room in her life for outliers or anomalies.
Then, Grace comes up with an algorithm for her statistics class to pair students with their perfect romantic partners. Though some people are skeptical, like Julia, Grace’s prickly coworker, Grace is confident that her program will take all the drama out of relationships. That’s why she keeps trying to make things work with her match, a guy named Jamie. But as the semester goes on and she grows closer to Julia, Grace starts to question who she’s really attracted to.
In award-winning author Christina Li’s YA debut, Grace will have to make a choice between the tidy equations she knows will protect her from heartbreak or the possibility that true love doesn’t follow any formula.
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I have the headcanon that Leslie lived until 11, even if he had not super good scores, because he was a little genius of music.
Not everyone can create a song, not everyone can learn super quickly to play a music. I don't remember which song he wanted to learn before his deparature, but i think that it was a difficult one (we don't see him train a lot in the story too) and he plays it before going to the gate, without any partition to help him and without doing any mistake.
I headcanon that she demons keep all the little genius, even if they not have good scores and are genius in other ways, because they think that it worth to keep them.
A kid has not good scores but it a genius with drawing and creates super beautiful things? It's worth to keep him until the age limit.
Leslie is super good in music, learn quickly song and has not need of a partition when he plays? it's worth to wait until he's 11 (close of 12). It could also be a kid who has a beautiful voice ansd sings super well for exemple.
etc....
Norman was a genius in studies and stuff so they keep him beyond 12 by sending him to lambda but people can be genius in other ways that in studies. A genius can be super good in something but kinda bad in another things.
I feel like this is essentially canon, no?
The only birthdays mentioned in "The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List" are Isabella's twelfth birthday and Ray's sixth birthday, so contrary to what the wiki currently says, it doesn't look like Leslie was shipped out exactly on his twelfth since they don't celebrate or even mention it.
(Leslie's page on the TPN Wiki | TPN Light Novel 2: Moms’ Song of Remembrance - “The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List” Chapter 1)
They are among the oldest though since Isabella turns twelve within a year of his shipment while not being physically able to jump atop the wall as we see her do in chapter 37/S1 episode 12 yet due to the sprained ankle she sustains over the course of the light novel, in addition to spending weeks to months writing him letters that never received a response and what finalized her decision to make the jump in the first place.
(TPN Light Novel 2: Moms’ Song of Remembrance - “The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List” Chapter 8 | Chapter 9)
But it's still soon enough that she discovers the truth of the house during the night of the first snowfall of the year, which could be anywhere from late October 2025 to January 2026 (since the full score trio deduces in chapter 5 that Grace Field is located in [the demon world equivalent of] the northern hemisphere, in addition to "The Guiding Star" short story mentioning them planning on using Polaris to find each other again after they go off to foster homes, winter would be during this time of the year).
I'm inclined to go with January 2026 since we don't see snow on the night of January 15, 2046, and also because I feel there's some poignancy in what would have been Leslie's twelfth birthday month getting to Isabella as the final push to make her seek him out. He surely would have written her in response to the birthday wishes she mailed him. (This is also why I feel his shipment was after September 9, 2025 because him not sending her any birthday well wishes would have tipped her off sooner, too).
(TPN Light Novel 2: Moms’ Song of Remembrance - “The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List” Chapter 9)
This could be an oddity in the translation, but Isabella also mentions how her her twelfth birthday was close enough that they could mark it on the calendar while the snow was piling up outside. Assuming they put up a new calendar at the start of January, she discovered the truth only in 2026, and then spent over half a year trying to come up with some sort of plan to escape (and isn't there a wealth of potential there, thinking of the adversarial atmosphere between her and Sarah during those few months and how that would be replicated in the next generation between her and Ray, although not 1:1.)
I don't remember which song he wanted to learn before his departure, but i think that it was a difficult one (we don't see him train a lot in the story too) and he plays it before going to the gate, without any partition to help him and without doing any mistake.
He learned to play Nocturne No.2! Though c72684, who translated the light novel, wasn't entirely certain the larger body of work it belonged to.
(TPN Light Novel 2: Moms’ Song of Remembrance - “The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List” Chapter 2)
#naehja#The Promised Neverland#Yakusoku no Neverland#TPN#YnN#FSS Asks#FSS Chatter#TPN Timeline#TPN Light Novels#Moms' Song of Remembrance#The Starry Sky and Leslie's List#Nanao 七緒#translated by c72684 on wordpress#Pre-Canon#TPN Leslie#TPN Isabella#IsaLes#Isabella#Leslie#Isabella and Ray's Incredibly Fraught and Complicated Relationship Tag#Introduction Arc#TPN 005#Escape Arc#TPN S1#TPN S1e12#TPN 037#Long Post
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