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reilemon · 2 months

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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

#my writing needs to be hornier #guess i'm back to writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne x you #lads zayne

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palioom · 3 months

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not home

summary: joel comes home and finds you asleep.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; somnophilia; dirty talk; fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; finger sucking; lowkey praise kink; no proofreading/beta lmao

IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 7 months.

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It was late when Joel came back.

Not home, just back. Home had been lost long ago, so long that he barely remembered it sometimes.

Funny how one could live in a place for so long and then it just faded away. He could remember some of the layout, but he swore that something was off about the way the living room looked in his mind.

No, this was just a shoddy apartment in the Boston QZ, with shitty hallways,creaking floorboards, paint peeling off the walls. Air howling through the tiny cracks, it was always cold somehow, but in summer too hot.

The door squeaked when he opened it and he really wanted to slam it shut behind him. Stupid thing would probably fly off the hinges if he did.

Try getting a door in the QZ.

He had more luck making one himself.

So he didn’t, opting to close it quietly instead, locking it behind him.

What a shitty fucking night this has been. Trying to smuggle shit out of the zone and then almost getting mauled by a bunch of clickers, adrenaline was still pumping through him along with anger.

Seething because he had lost a good amount of pills, some other good shit he could have traded for marks or cigarettes with the FEDRA officers.

Joel wanted to scream, throwing his backpack down onto the kitchen chair, then walking over to the cabinets. But he didn’t, instead pouring himself some of the shitty bourbon that they kept stashed away.

Sometimes he still wondered how she had managed to get this, looking over at her, peacefully sleeping in their bed.

If that’s what one could call it, a mattress propped up on some bricks, worn out pillows and ratty sheets.

Turned away from him on her stomach, the thin fabric of the blanket loosely draped over her legs, her ass only covered by her underwear.

Sometimes he wondered how she could sleep in so little, while he was always ready to go, ready to leave if anything happened.

Not that he minded, the sight was enough to make his dick twitch in his jeans, just watching her sleeping form, breathing in and out.

He knocked back another gulp, hissing at the weak sting.

Yeah, it was pretty shitty compared to the real thing, or whatever he remembered from it, but she had found a good bottle nonetheless.

The really good ones were hard to come by these days.

Just like people.

Fuck, she looked pretty like this, sprawled out over the whole bed because he wasn’t there, and he couldn’t even see her face.

Soft in her sleep, so rare in a world where softness did not survive for long.

Trying to be tough when awake, fooling everyone but him.

Joel knew her too well, some things he had never wanted to know, things about her past.

Things that made sense and intrigued him in a way, sometimes meaningless shit, like what shows she used to watch, what she had for dinner most days.

But it distracted him, as much as it annoyed him sometimes, it gave him a break from this fucked up world where all was about survival and nothing about just living.

So pretty.

Her body gave him a break as well, settling down the glass and the bottle, footsteps heavy as he walked over to their bed, knowing she wouldn’t wake up.

Could sleep through a damn tornado if she wanted to.

He took his boots off, the only thing she made him take off when he came to bed, insisting she would make him sleep on the sofa otherwise.

Anything but that, his back hurting just at the thought of that shitty, worn out thing.

Crawling into bed, he pressed himself close to her, chest against her back, heavy on top of her smaller frame.

Joel’s lips found her exposed shoulder, only wearing a ratty tank top, too hot in this little apartment. It was the only thing that kept her from sleeping most days, that unbearable heat.

His calloused fingers travelled over her arm, half under her pillow, then back up and over her side. Sliding between her body and the mattress, grabbing her breast, his hips grinding into her ass.

She sighed in her sleep, brows furrowing together for a moment, mumbling something.

Fuck, he needed her. Knew she wouldn’t mind, this was far from the first time where he came home all tense and tried to let go a little while buried inside of her.

“Fucking pretty, darlin’.” He whispered against her shoulder, his hand continuing down, finding the meat of her ass and kneading it, making her shift just a little.

She looked so sweet like this, her sleepy sounds adorable.

“Gonna see if you’re wet for me, baby.” He said, fingers pushing her underwear to the side and delving between her folds, finding her wet but not wet enough.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, gonna get you nice and ready for me.”

He moved back from her just long enough to pull down her underwear, throwing it somewhere behind him. Then, he was flush against her, his fingers coming up to her lips.

Pushing into her mouth, past her teeth, she took him in, actually sucking on them for a moment, making him groan.

He moved them in and out of her mouth, pressing down onto her tongue, massaging it.

“‘Atta girl, get them nice and wet, what a good girl.” He whispered, kissing her shoulder as he watched, his dick twitching and rock hard in his jeans as he rutted against her ass. “Doin’ so well.”

Joel didn’t know if she could hear him, but sometimes he was sure that she got wetter from how he talked even when she was fast asleep.

When they were wet enough, he pulled them from her mouth, leaving her lips slightly parted before he moved down, finding her clit.

Her hips jerked up into his dick when he touched her, rubbing a few lazy circles into it, spreading the wetness there before her found her entrance, carefully easing the two fingers inside.

A breathy sigh left her, brows furrowed again as she clenched around him, already pressing in and out of her at a steady pace, feeling more wetness coat him.

“Just like that, squeeze them nice and tight, gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart.”

Curling them, he pressed against the spongy spot inside of her, hearing the softest moan spill over her lips, stirring just a little.

Pumping in and out, scissoring his thick fingers to stretch her open, he soon pulled out again, getting desperate and just needing her around him.

He sucked his fingers clean before rolling away from her, opening his belt as quietly as he could, then the button and zipper of his jeans. Pushing them down just far enough to take his aching cock out, grunting when he was back on her, the tip of him pressed against her entrance.

Hand finding her leg, he angled her just a little differently, making it easier for him to push into her, groaning softly against her shoulder.

Feeling her tight, wet pussy pull him in deeper, all the way until he bottomed out, broad hand over her hip.

She opened her eyes now, just a little, trying to make sense of what was happening, sleep gripping her tight.

“Joel?” Voice hoarse, cracking as he stilled.

“Shh, sweetheart, go back to sleep.” He said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, watching her close her eyes again. “I’ll take care of you.”

She mumbled something, gone again, only whimpering quietly when he pulled back and sank into her again.

His hand found her breast again, squeezing and groping as he began to pound into her, slow at first, but gradually picking up speed as he lost his patience. Her sweet sounds fuelling him, whining more as he kept pinching and rolling her hard nipple, her hips weakly pushing back into him.

“Pretty girl, always giving me your little pussy. Always so good to me.” He rambled, biting her neck softly. “So good for me, fuck, sweetheart.”

So close, her body so warm and soft, her pussy squelching around him.

Sometimes he wondered if the neighbours could hear it through the open window. Her soft mewls, her sweet, wet pussy as he pounded into it.

They could definitely hear when he fucked her deep into the mattress, hear her scream his name until her voice broke.

He hoped they did, letting everyone know she was his, asleep or not.

Joel could feel her squeeze around him, his hand moving from her breast to her clit, pressing into it with rough movements.

Pushing her over, a sharp gasp and the way her walls pulsed around him, coating his cock with her slick letting him know. Eyes opening again, whining and screwing them shut at the sudden assault of pleasure, mind hazy and too damn tired.

“Sleep, baby. It’s alright.” He shushed her again, groaning, forehead against her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

“Joel-”

That did him in, the way she whined his name, needy and sleepy, emptying himself inside of her with a deep groan.

“Shit, darlin’. Always so good.”

Joel watched her face, drifting in and out of consciousness, sleep tugging at her and pulling her under.

“‘Atta girl, baby.” He kissed her cheek, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Not pulling out of her, he manoeuvred them on their sides, her back flush against his chest, his nose buried in her hair.

Just catching his breath and feeling her.

She could make any night better, her soft body letting him forget momentarily about just how badly that trip had gone.

But he was just glad to be home.

Not home.

But the closest thing he had to it now, in bed with her.

Buried inside her.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #wanda maximo #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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sneaky link!levi headcanons

⚠️: black fem!reader, age gap (levi is early 30’s/reader is mid 20’s, I’ll leave the specifics to you!), infidelity, fingering, squirting, oral, he’s a little toxic, calls reader slut, spit play, sir used, power play/dynamic + modern au

📝: this was from an ask I got a long time ago but I lost it in my inbox! and I thought it’d be a lot of fun, epsoclally with a serious character like levi! 🫶🏾

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sneaky link!levi, who you first met when you began working at a local coffee + tea shop in your area as a barista. He was the owner and your boss. Although he wanted to be more than that from the jump…

sneaky link!levi who took a special liking to you after only two weeks of being employed, was extra attentive and always watching over you like a hawk. “Good job, (y/n)..” “..you’re pretty damn good at this..”

sneaky link!levi eventually began to schedule you to close almost every night. Not just because you were new but because he wanted to any excuse for you guys to be alone.

“How are ya’ liking the job so far? You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” “Of course, sir. I love it here. I appreciate the opportunity.”

sneaky link!levi, who notices how flustered you become at the mention of pet names and thinks it’s adorable, begins to slip the endearing terms in regular convo, just to get your reaction. Saying things like ‘good girl’ or ‘love’. Each time, garnering a stutter and your thighs being squeezed together.

sneaky link!levi decides to make a move one night after asking you to bend over and clean the espresso machine when he grips your waist and tugs your ass towards him..only a month after you began working there.

sneaky link!levi promised himself that he’d never mix business and pleasure, nor would he ever sleep with one of his employees but he can’t help it when he sees how those uniform pants hug your thick frame and how soft those plump lips looked, stained in gloss. Knowing that he’d be able to handle you if given the chance.

“I hope you don’t mind…I just can’t help myself. You’re so beautiful.” “I won’t tell if you won’t, sir.”

sneaky link!levi is very much aware that you have a boyfriend but simply doesn’t give a fuck because he knows you’re not even happy. Apparent by the angry phone calls on your lunch break.

sneaky link!levi, who lets out the hottest grunts when he orders you to your knees in his office and uses your pretty little mouth to his leisure. Slowly fucking your throat as he leans back on his desk. “Fuck, you’re such a good little slut..swallowed the whole damn thing..”

sneaky link!levi eats your pussy like an absolute fiend..placing you on his desk with your panties dangling on your ankle as he devours it; leaving long strings of saliva all over it and gracing your mouth a few as well. Finger fucking you until that orgasm comes barreling out and you wind up squirting up to his forearm.

“Let it out, pretty girl..give me what I want..”

sneaky link!levi who fucks you into near delirium after almost an hour or every position he could get you in. Handling you in ways that your current man could only dream of.. “..he ever make you feel this good, sweetheart? Don’t worry, you can come all over this dick..as much as you want. I won’t hold it against you.” Smirking as he strokes your clit and watches you writhe.

sneaky link!levi takes every opportunity to flirt and make you antsy whilst you’re working, teasing you just so he can get you aroused for later..

sneaky link!levi, who has you running at his beck and call..even after you’ve long clocked out and at home with your man. Texting you to come see him at all hours of the night, knowing you’d never be able to get enough of him.

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jellys-compendium · 6 months

Text

Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.

Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room.

“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record.

“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”

Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month.

Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”

“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.”

The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.

König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.

“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”

As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.

You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König.

König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is.

But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,

“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”

Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.

“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.

Häschen.

A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that.

Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.

As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.

In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose.

You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.

Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.

Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.

As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy.

Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.

Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.

You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.

Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!

‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

It’s…König.

Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.

Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…

Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.

Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests.

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.

Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that.

Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you.

Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.

“Scheisse!”

The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic.

“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.”

König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips.

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered.

Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.

“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

He’s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.

König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.

Cute.

Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle.

Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.

Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside.

“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”

Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all.

Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.

“W-what?”

König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.

“Yes.”

Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.

Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.

“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.

“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”

Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.

God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.

Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good.

And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.

“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.

König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.

“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”

“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”

König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved.

“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”

König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.

“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants.

“I want your cock.”

The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.

“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”

A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture.

You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name.

“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today.

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#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod smut #jellywrites

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 24 days

Text

.⋆｡The Morning After｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Ghost was a big man, he loomed over everyone in the squad but you never dared to imagine how big he was everywhere until you accidentally walk in on him in the shower

Warnings: nudity, Ghost is fucking massive, horny thoughts, reader’s callsign is Pyro, implied smut, size difference WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You couldn’t look your LT in the eye, not that you could before but now it was even worse. You knew that he knew something was wrong but you were too damn stubborn and too damn embarrassed to clear it up. You could feel those striking brown eyes staring at the back of your head as you poured yourself a coffee from the ancient coffee machine. His gaze followed you as you bypassed your usual seat next to him and instead sat beside Soap, expertly positioning your body beside the Scott as to not see your superior.

“You’re next to me today then lass?” Soap threw an arm over your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement.

“Regrettably, yes.” You snapped back, your exhausted state only adding to the annoyance you felt around the man you called your friend. He smirked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What’s up yer ass today?” He asked right as you took a sip of the shitty coffee causing you to choke on the dark liquid, drawing the attention of the whole table to you. Soap beamed as you coughed and for a brief moment, your focus was not on the piercing gaze of Ghost.

“Nothing! Nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” You forced your attention to the front of the room where Captain Price was beginning his morning debrief.

Getting lost in the monotonous tones of the Brit, your mind began to wander to the events of last night.

Your entire body was covered in a layer of grime and sweat, a consequence of having to test out the new training course for the recruits coming in next week. You had been chosen ‘at random’ but knew that it was because you were the youngest of the 141 and thus at the bottom of the pecking order.

All you could think about after being in the cold mud and rain for a solid three hours (you had to run through it multiple times of course to make sure it was sound) was a steaming hot shower and maybe a quick version of your skin care routine.

Your feet dragged as you made your way to the showers, confident that you would be able to enjoy the room to yourself considering that it was nearing 1 in the morning, not hearing the gentle cascade of water already running over the sound of your own self-pity.

You beelined for your favourite stall but froze when you finally noticed the man standing under the steam. There was no question of who stood before you, the sheer size of him pointed to only one person on your squad.

Water rolled down his broad back like a river, snaking its way over scar tissue and muscle, reddening his skin with its heat. His shoulders rolled as his hands worked through his short dirty blonde hair, washing away the standard issues shampoo that clung to his locks.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift lower, settling on the pert cheeks of his ass and his strong, thick legs. Heat crawled up your neck and it was only partially because of the warm temperature of the shower. You held your breath as he turned to reach for the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him, exposing his profile to you.

Your eyes went wide and wetness pooled between your plump thighs. Good lord he was so-

“Pyro, we need you to run through the training course again. Ghost will help you out.” You were physically shaken from your daydream by your captain’s voice with the accompanying laugh from the man next to you. Your eyes flicked back up to your commanding officer.

“I must’ve run that thing 50 times sir. It works fine!” The older man raised an eyebrow at you before crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a disappointed look your way.

“Fine is not good enough. You’ll run it until Ghost thinks it’s enough.”

Soap, obviously finding amusement in your torment, said. “You’ll be runnin that course blindfolded if Riley has anything to do with it.” You groaned in annoyance and let your head fall to the table with a thud, ignoring the jeers of your teammates.

The rest of the day’s tasks were dolled out and the team was quickly dismissed, leaving only you and Simon in the room. He cleared his throat but before he could speak, you shot up. “I’ll meet you down there, I gotta hit the head.”

You scrambled from the room, leaving the giant alone smirking under his balaclava.

——————

“Faster!” Ghost barked, his voice booming between the obstacles. You growled in frustration, redoubling your efforts as you scaled the 12 ft wall in the centre of the course. You had already beaten your record three times over, yet this seemed to not be enough for your LT.

You reached for the rope at the top, your fingertips just grazing the braided fibres but right as you were about to grab for it, your other arm finally gave out after hours of work and you began to fall backwards.

Before the scream could escape your lips, your body was cradled in something warm and comfortable. When you were sure that you hadn’t just slammed into the ground, you opened one of your eyes and came face-to-mask with Ghost.

You could tell he was smiling behind that caricature of a skull by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. You huffed and attempted to wriggle out of his arms, desperately forcing yourself not to think about how warm and fucking massive they were. “Now where ya goin there Pyro. That was a big fall, I’d hate to see ya hurt.” His voice was even deeper than normal, husky and raw. It made your cunt clench around nothing.

“I um-“ You started to say but you were quickly cut off by a tut from your superior officer.

“I think we’re done for the day Sergeant, you’ve obviously proved your… endurance.” He said the last word like it was dirty, his brown eyes growing even darker as his biceps flexed, keeping you pinned to his chest. Something in your stomach fluttered. Even holding you up to him, Ghost was still looming over you, the shadow of his bulk blocking out the sunlight that licked at his broad shoulders.

Your gaze flicked to where the black of his mask clung to his lips before you caught yourself and forced your eyes elsewhere. “Yes lieutenant.” Simon chuckled and lowered you, more gently than you would’ve thought him capable, to the dusty ground of the training area.

“Good girl.” He purred and for a second, you thought that maybe you had actually bashed your head and now you were hallucinating. Ghost kept a paw-like hand wrapped around your elbow, preventing you from sprinting off.

“S-sir?”

“Ya know ye aren’t as sneaky as ya think ya are Pyro. If ya wanted ta join me for a shower, ya coulda. Don’t cha deny it, could feel those pretty eyes of yours searing inta me from 50 paces.” Your heart dropped.

“Oh god sir, ‘m so sorry, it was a total accident. It’ll never happen again.” His grip tightened, making your mouth snap shut with an audible click.

“Now when did I say tha I didn’t want tha?” His head tilted, the deep brown of his eyes glinting mischievously as he lowered himself closer to your face. “How ‘bout I show ya what ya missed out on a give ya a proper reward for bein such a good little girl?”

It was all you could do to nod your head and not collapse to the ground with a pathetic whimper. The edge of his mask shifted as he smirked down at you.

——————

“Sorry I’m late Captain, won’t happen again.” You limped into the briefing room, dark bags marring your cheeks. Price nodded at you and continued his debrief for the day. You winced as you plopped down in the only open seat, ending up right next to Soap for the second day in a row.

“Ye look li shite.” He leaned over to you. You jabbed your index and middle fingers into his ribs, making Johnny jump slightly and earning him a glare from Price. “Jausus, Ghost musta really battered ya ta make ya so bitchy today.”

You smirked and caught said lieutenant’s eye. “He really fucking did.”

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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months

Text

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 6

The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.

You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring.

Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.

Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:

Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.

“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,

“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.

“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork.

“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.

“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… for now. how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.

Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.

Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway.

Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.

“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction.

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.

You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring. Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.

His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.

“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.

“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting.

“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.

"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.

Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position.

You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves.

“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”

“How do you do it?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.” Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”

“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him).

“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.

“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”

“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.

“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.

“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?”

He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so.

“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.

Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this.

He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.

With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.

That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other.

The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…

An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.

Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.

He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.

“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers.

He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"

"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.

“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.

“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.

“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”

“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, making me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).

“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile.

“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?”

Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you.

“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn.

“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?”

He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls.

You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book.

He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries.

“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’.

He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.

Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.

You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something.

“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.”

“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.

“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.”

The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks.

“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.

“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him.

You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.

Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.

“Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper.

“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter).

Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind.

“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”

As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days.

In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.

a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e @tinythebunni

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sleepyjuice · 1 month

Text

patience is a virtue - jj maybank

Summary: you finally get on birth control, which means you and jj finally get to raw dog it, whoop

Warnings: 18+!!!!!!!! SMUT, p in v sex (reader is on birth control but theoretically both parties are tested and clean and exclusively sleeping with each other), little bit of praise kink, cream pie, fluff? soft jj <3

wc: 2771 wtf 🫣

A/N: so I decided to start writing again and then this happened lol. I’m probably rusty and this is my first time writing for jj so I hope it’s okay and y’all enjoy!!!<3

Jj had been counting down the days until your doctor's appointment. You were finally getting on birth control, the arm implant, to be specific. You had done your research, as well as an initial consultation with your doctor to go over all of your options and decided that the ‘one and done’ route would be the best for you.

You and jj had been together for a little over a year, using condoms every time you had sex. As much as you both liked the security of you not getting pregnant, you both wanted more, you both craved more. Not only that, but you had irregular and horribly painful periods and when your doctor mentioned that being on birth control could stop your periods, that was more than enough to convince you to take that step.

The day finally came, though, and jj insisted on driving you to your appointment, ignoring your assurance that it was a quick and easy procedure.

“jj, it’s not like I’m getting put under for a major surgery or something, it’ll probably be only like ten minutes. No medicine or anything.” You told him as you buckled your seatbelt. There was no changing his mind.

jj rolled his eyes as he started up the twinkie, already having made arrangements with john b over a week ago to let him borrow the van.

“I know, baby, but this is a big moment, wanna be there for you.” He said with a grin, pulling onto the road and starting towards your doctor’s office.

“Well, I appreciate it. I honestly think you’re more excited than I am.” You giggled, glancing over at your boyfriend as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.

“Now what makes you say that?” He teased, knowing damn well he had this appointment marked in his phone calendar and his extra ass even drew a dick and a smiley face on your little desk calendar you had.

You had arrived shortly after, and just as you predicted, the whole appointment only took about ten minutes and was pretty painless. jj waited in the car for you to be done, smiling ecstatically at you once he saw you make your way out the office doors and towards the twinkie.

“How was it? Did it hurt?” He asked as soon as you got into the car, looking at your arm that was now wrapped in a bright pink bandage.

You shook your head, leaning across the seat to softly kiss your boyfriend, his hands finding your hair first before slowly trailing down your body to rub on your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, so you pulled away with a laugh.

“Nope, nope, don’t even think about it. This thing doesn’t start working for seven days.” You told him, smiling innocently at him as you watched his face drop. You swore all the light in his eyes left his body for a second. He was so dramatic.

You were obviously disappointed too. It would have been nice to go straight home and have what would probably be the best sex of your life right away. But then you would have to go and buy a Plan B, and then this would all be for nothing.

“Now what the fuck? How are they gonna call this shit modern medicine but that shit doesn’t start working for a week?” jj scoffed, one of his hands still resting on your thigh while his other raised to softly graze your bandage, “like, they put a whole ass stick in your arm. What’s it even doing for these seven days? Just sitting in there doing nothing? They really need to make advancements to this shit.” he rambled on, but he couldn’t help but start laughing once you did.

“You are the most dramatic person I have ever met. We just gotta wait it out. Although, with all this anticipation, hopefully you can last more than a minute.” You mumbled the last part, your gaze leaving jj’s as you buckled your seatbelt, knowing he would start huffing over your comment.

And that he did, huffing as he started the car, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s — shut the fuck up. Don’t act like this won’t be torture for you, too.” He mumbled back, backing out of the parking lot and heading towards the chateau.

It had been a long week since your appointment. You and jj had never gone this long without having sex. You could have still used a condom in the meantime, but after a conversation in bed the first night, you had both decided to wait until you could do it raw for the first time. You were struggling, to say the least, but you had more composure than jj did all week.

He wasn’t making it easy though. The way he cuddled against you in bed, his hard dick pressing into your lower back made you crave the feeling of him inside of you. You almost caved multiple times every time he touched you, you just wanted more. But he respected your agreement, even though it was just as torturous for him. Touching your skin, seeing the way the bottom of your ass cheeks stuck out of the bottom of your shorts, all he wanted to do was rip your clothes off and bury himself inside of you. But he could wait, it would be worth it.

It couldn’t have been more perfect timing. Day seven had finally come around and your beautiful and wonderful friends all happened to have plans, which meant you and jj had the chateau to yourselves. It truly felt like a gift from god.

It was late morning, the soft glow of the sun peaking through the sheer blinds of the bedroom jj had made his own had woken you from your sleep. jj was still sleeping soundly next to you, his face pressed against your neck, an arm draped firmly across your waist.

“jay,” you whispered, softly rubbing circles on the back of his neck, your face being close enough to leave soft kisses in his messy blonde hair.

“mm- oh, fuck,” jj rasped, quickly gaining consciousness as he realized it was finally morning. He was so excited to sleep last night because it meant the next day would come quicker. It was like a kid on Christmas Eve. “it’s time?” He lifted his head from your neck, rolling himself over so he was on top of you, his hands holding himself up above your head on the pillow.

“It’s time,” you giggled, reaching up to cup his cheeks, “I’m done being patient. Need you inside me.” You whispered, and at that, jj leaned down, connecting your lips. He wasn’t completely rough, but he wasn’t gentle, and god did you miss this.

Your lips didn’t part from one another as his hands moved their way down your body. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt that clad your body, yet another thing making him absolutely feral.

You disconnected to breathe, and so that he could lift your shirt above your head, discarding it on the cluttered floor. You looked up at him, now only in your panties, finding that familiar comfort that lived in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“Fuck, missed seeing you like this, baby.” He panted, his breath hot on your skin as he lowered his mouth down to your tits, his tongue circling your sensitive nipple as you gasped, reaching up to entangle your fingers in his hair.

He soon took your whole nipple in his mouth, humming in satisfaction against the warm skin, while also lowering his body to grind his boxer clad dick against your wet center. He was achingly hard, no doubt his boxers were already stained with the precum that was eagerly leaking out of his sensitive tip.

You whimpered softly as he grazed his teeth against your nipple as he sucked sloppily, the feeling of his mouth on you making your center pulsate harder.

“jj, need you, please..” you whined, grinding your hips up against his dick, the fabric beneath the two of you was too much. You needed him.

“Okay, baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling his mouth off of your nipple with a pop, leaving the skin red and wet, “need to taste you first.” He added before scooting down further on the bed, giving himself enough room to pull his shirt over his head and discard it with yours.

He quickly repositioned himself in front of your legs, his ring clad fingers cold on your skin as he pushed your knees apart, sliding his hands up your thighs as he spread your legs. He was met with your underwear which you could feel was soaked, and you were sure it was quite the sight for him to see.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re soaked.” He hummed, palming his hands up and down your thighs until he reached the waistband of your underwear, his fingers not hesitating to pull the fabric down your legs and off of your body completely.

“There she is,” jj smiled at the sight of your pussy before him, running a finger through your wet folds, circling your entrance and sliding it back up to rub torturously slow circles against your clit. He was acting as though your pussy was his best friend who he hadn’t seen in months. Again, he was dramatic.

“Please, jay, fuck, you — you can’t torture me now, ‘s been way too long.” You whined, your eyes shutting for a moment as you clenched around nothing, his touches making your veins feel like fire. You needed something.

“M’kay, baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just missed this. Don’t like not having you for so long.” He finally gave in, lowering his head to finally take you in his mouth, his tongue flicking quickly against your clit as his wet lips closed around it, sucking the sensitive bud in his warm mouth.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that fell from your lips, the feeling of his mouth finally on you mixed with the soft breaths leaving his nose that was pressed against your pelvic bone was everything.

“That’s right, that’s good, yeah? Just what you needed?” He pulled back for only a moment to glance up at you as you nodded quickly in response before his middle finger teased your wet entrance. Without another word, he pushed his finger inside of you, bringing his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he began pumping his finger inside of your tight pussy, not missing the sweet gasp that left your parted lips.

He got a rhythm going as he always did, eventually adding his index finger, stretching your tight walls around his fingers as his mouth moved sloppily against your clit. It was a wet mess already, his chin and fingers completely soaked with your juices, the sound of your moans and his soft praises filled the room as he quickened his pace, bringing you closer to your high.

“I’m close, fuck me, I’m gonna come-“

It took only a few more pumps from jj, the way he curled his fingers perfectly, not missing a beat as your stomach tightened before contracting, your eyes squeezing shut as you moaned loudly, reaching forward again to grip tightly onto your boyfriends hair, pulling rather hard as your orgasm took over your body.

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he pulled them out, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean as he grinned lovingly at you.

“That’s good, baby, you’re so good for me,” he cooed, leaning down once again to press a sweet kiss onto your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch as you came down from your high. “You ready for me now? Been dreaming of this since I met you.” jj studied your face for any sign of hesitation, brushing a loose strand of hair that had fallen by your eyes.

“I’m ready, please, need to feel you.” You responded rather quickly, wholeheartedly enjoying the foreplay, but this is what you had been waiting for, you were ready to feel him fully.

“I got you, I got you…” he gave a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up and removing his boxers. His cock sprung free, happily unrestricted now, his tip red and swollen, precum now leaking out down his shaft.

You watched as he gave himself a few quick pumps, lubricating himself with his precum before positioning his cock in front of your pussy, gathering your wetness onto his tip before lining himself up with your entrance.

One hand held his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the other holding your bare waist. It was immediate euphoria for the both of you. You both had no idea what utter pleasure had been beneath the thin condom you had grown so accustomed to.

jj paused once he bottomed out, his eyes meeting yours as you nodded profusely for him to keep going. He needed a second, your joke about him not lasting was now fresh on his mind, but he was determined to make this last for the both of you, and he would be damned if he didn’t give you at least one more orgasm.

“Fuck me, Y/N, holy shiiitt you feel so perfect. So perfect for me. Pussy was made for me.” He groaned, taking a deep and shaky breath before he felt like he could begin moving again.

And so he did, his thick cock pushing in and out of you as you desperately reached up to grab the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into the soft skin making his little curses and moans grow louder.

Sex had never felt this good before, no barriers at all, just jj, completely jj. Watching his eyebrows furrow in pure and utter pleasure as his lips parted was sending your stomach into a frenzy and realistically you both knew that this first time going raw wouldn’t last too much longer, but that was okay.

“Love you, love you, feels so good, just— fuck, harder, please, I’m close.” You whined, your pussy clenching around jj’s cock as he quickened his pace, his hand that was holding your waist now moving down to rub at your clit, knowing that was going to do it for you.

“C’mon, baby, let go, yeah? Come for me, fuck — love you so much, so so good..” he praised, his cock hitting your sweet spot so perfectly while his fingers worked tirelessly against your clit, and that was all it took for your orgasm to hit you at full force, showing no mercy as your back arched, your fingers digging even deeper into your boyfriend’s skin. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you rode out your high, but you couldn’t care less.

jj’s gaze left your eyes as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, juices everywhere, no doubt leaving a mess on the sheets. But the sight of that alone, mixed with the euphoria of being inside of you completely raw, not to mention the way your pussy clenched repeatedly around his cock, that was it for him. He pushed in one last time, his tip hitting deep inside of you as he came, truly inside of you for the first time. Thick spurts of come shot into you as he completely lost his composure, his arms unable to hold him up any longer, collapsing against your bare chest.

“My baby, god, fuck, I love you so much, you’re… ahh, fuck.” jj moaned one last time, needing a moment to catch his breath before he could move again. What felt like forever was only a few seconds, however, and he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you, not missing the way you winced at not only the sensitivity but the loss of fullness.

Taking a breath, jj leaned over the side of the bed to grab his t-shirt, gently wiping up his mess that was now spilling out of you. He made a mental note to put a towel down next time, might save a load of laundry, and a shirt.

“You did so good, baby. I’ve never felt so good in my fucking life.” He kissed your swollen lips once he finished wiping you up, smiling tiredly at your sweet post orgasm face, cheeks pink with a small but satisfied little smile on your lips.

“Yeah, no, that was well worth the wait.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #pls be nice I’m fragile thank u

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punkshort · 5 months

Text

somewhere to run | 6. the confession

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here

WC: 9K

A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.

Series Masterlist

Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.

He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.

Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.

After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.

When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.

He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.

The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.

"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.

"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.

"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.

"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.

"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."

"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."

"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.

He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.

The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.

He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.

A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.

When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.

"Where the hell were you last week?"

"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.

"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"

"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.

"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"

"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"

Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.

Something was wrong.

Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.

When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.

You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.

"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.

Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.

"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.

"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."

Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.

"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.

"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.

"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."

"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.

"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.

"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.

"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"

You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.

"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.

"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.

"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"

Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.

He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.

"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.

"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.

"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.

He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.

"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.

At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.

"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"

"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."

Joel shook his head, still not understanding.

"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."

"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."

Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.

"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.

"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.

"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.

Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.

"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."

You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.

"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.

He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.

"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."

You immediately recoiled and shook your head.

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."

Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"

"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.

"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."

You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.

"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."

You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.

"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.

"She can see you this afternoon."

"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.

"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."

You nodded and looked up at him.

"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.

"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.

You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.

"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.

His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.

"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.

He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?

He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.

"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.

"So?"

"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."

Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.

"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.

"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."

"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.

"I didn't mean her face."

Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.

"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.

"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.

"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.

Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"

He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.

"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"

"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.

"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."

Joel frowned.

"Too-"

"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."

Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.

"Anythin' else?"

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.

"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.

"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.

"Wasn't so bad," you said.

"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.

Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.

"Why is Patrick in jail?"

Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.

"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."

"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.

"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.

"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.

"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."

"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.

He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.

"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.

"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.

"Okay. When?"

"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.

"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.

"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."

"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.

"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"

"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.

"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.

"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.

"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"

"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.

"I can manage, but thank you."

You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.

"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.

"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.

Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.

Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.

"Who's there?"

"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.

"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.

You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.

"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.

"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."

"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."

"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."

You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.

Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.

"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."

"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."

You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.

You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.

When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.

The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.

You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.

"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.

"Mornin'. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.

"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.

"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.

The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.

"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."

You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.

"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.

"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."

"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."

He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.

"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"

"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.

He nodded and took a deep breath in.

"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."

"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.

"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."

You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.

"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.

"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.

"You can do this. I know you can."

You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.

As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.

You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.

You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.

You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.

You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.

"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.

"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.

"Did they offer to help you?"

"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."

"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.

"No, I didn't think he would like that."

"Why not?"

"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.

"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.

"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.

"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.

"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.

"When did it start?"

"Right after we got married, I think."

"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.

"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.

"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.

"I told my mom, yes."

"And what did she say?"

"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.

"And when would he hit you?"

"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."

"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"

"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.

"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.

"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."

You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.

"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."

She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.

"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."

"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."

You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.

"What else?"

"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.

"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.

"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.

The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.

You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.

As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.

A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?

Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.

Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.

"Uh, can you -"

"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."

With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.

"You were in the shower."

"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.

"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.

"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.

"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.

You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.

"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."

"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.

"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."

You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.

"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"

He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.

"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.

"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.

So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.

"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.

"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."

He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.

"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.

"I know," you replied, nodding your head.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.

"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.

"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.

"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"

"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."

"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.

You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.

"I can't leave."

You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.

"Then stay."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 2 months

Text

Y'all wanna see Miguel be the dominant lover.

I wanna see Miguel being that dude's that's slightly afraid of his wife.

He's teasing her jokingly and she starts yelling at him in Spanish. And he's like 'It was a JOKE- dios mío A JOKE' meanwhile this 4'11 woman is yelling and waving her finger in his face (lovingly of course)

Jess asks if he's coming to eat lunch, and he tells her 'no', that he has work to do.

Cue his wife storming into his office, yelling his name, and shoving a plate of arroz con pollo at him and demanding they eat together. And of course he wouldn't dream of telling her no.

So he sits there while she's like 'Make sure you finish. You always eat dinner late. You need to finish so you won't be hungry. I don't know how you always want to train and workout but you don't want to stop and EAT. You hear me?? Are you listening-'

And he's just happily listening to her nagging while he eats and fights back a smile.

-- Imma give him a wife who looks makes him look relatively calm and sarcastic meanwhile she's a busy-body constantly checking on him and everything in the Society so it doesn't fall apart.

-- Miguel being afraid to even COUGH around her cause god help him, if she thinks he's sick she'll forcefully BABY him to death.

Like tucking him into bed ridiculously tight with a rag on his head and soup on the stove and if he even thinks about getting up he gets scolded for 'stressing out his body'

-- A wife that when Miguel brings up the idea of having kids she's like 'Of course! I want six... What's wrong, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's six not enough for you?'

Meanwhile Miguel is trying not to faint at the idea of SIX WHOLE KIDS to look after. (The end up with eight in the end)

-- And she has weekly brunches with MJ where they talk about how much of a mess their loving husbands are

-- When they train together she takes it SO serious. She's the worlds toughest trainer ever. Yelling at him in Spanish 'Is that all you got! Christ, I know you can do more than that!! We're running 6 miles together on the treadmill next. DRINK SOME WATER!!!'

And then after she's like 'You did great, babe 😊 My strong man, love you 🧡🧡🧡.'

Meanwhile he's panting for dear life

Like DO YOU SEE THE DYNAMIC I'M GOING FOR not the 'i hate my wife' kinda vibe, the 'my wife is gonna fucking kill me if I stay up until three again' kinda vibe.

I'm gonna give him the most firey fierce wife ever. That's him and Inca-Spider Moche. When they argue she stands on his desk cause she's not gonna having him looking down at her. She's like 'You think you wouldn't eat lunch cause the breakfast I cooked was too big? Say that to my face!!' *climbs up on the nearest chair*

A calm sarcastic giant and his 4'11 wife that will rain hellfire if he works late cause he needs his sleep and she'll be DAMNED if he doesn't get it

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grandline-fics · 6 months

Text

All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS: Just fluff

CHARACTERS: Sabo, Sanji |Luffy,Zoro,Shanks

WORD COUNT: 1,107

A/N: Hope everyone has a wonderful and happy New Year. Be safe however you celebrate.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

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SABO

The role of Chief of staff to the Revolutionary Army was one Sabo would never give up. To even consider that would be laughable to him. Yes it was dangerous at times and hard work but a difference was being made and it was rewarding. However on long missions like these that took him away from you on extended periods of time his resolve did get tested. On the one hand the growing agitation of being away from you could at times make him distracted but on the other hand the anticipation of being in your presence again was a very strong motivator to get the mission finished as soon as possible.

It was a blessing in disguise that the events on Dressrosa greatly intensified for Sabo just when his need to hurry things along was reaching its limit. Reuniting with Luffy and the chance to get Ace’s devil fruit steeled his mind to keep on track enough until everything was completed. Satisfied that he had done all he needed to and that Luffy was safe he finally made the return to the Revolutionary base. When he set his feet on the island he considered home he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face, knowing that finally seeing you would be only minutes away and no longer days or weeks.

Knowing he had one more duty to conclude he ran as fast as he could to Dragon’s office, the small line of line coming from beneath the door telling him his commander was still awake. Sabo barely knocked once before entering and rattled through a condensed and hurried summary of the mission and its success in record time. Dragon was used to this by now, all too aware of the childlike giddiness that took over his second in command when every fibre in his body was being pulled to wherever you were in desperation. “Just go Sabo, but just be mindful that they’re sleeping.”

Sabo’s face fell into a heavy pout as he left the room and walked to the living quarters he shared with you. Logically he told himself that you’d both been apart for long enough that the rest of the night wouldn’t be too long of a wait by comparison. Then again logic wasn’t his priority. He needed to be with you, his whole body compelled him to be near you now. When he entered your shared bedroom he took in your peaceful sleeping form and felt his heart race just a little faster. Quickly shedding his coat, gloves and boots he climbed into the bed instead of doing his usual nighttime routine and wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as humanly possible against his chest while he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

“Welcome back Chief…” he grinned at your greeting, slurred and heavy with sleep. Lightly he pressed a kiss against your shoulder as your fingers found their way into his blond hair and curled against the nape of his neck. As you felt Sabo’s body relax on top of yours as sleep finally claimed him you let your mind linger just a little longer on the edge of consciousness. As much as you wanted to go back to sleep your body needed to anchor yourself to him too, to keep him close and take in his warmth and the feel of him again for as long as possible.

SANJI

Cooking was his passion and he’d never want to do anything else. However on a day like this he did resent it just a little. With a feast to beat all other feasts needing to be made it meant he was practically a prisoner in his own kitchen with no end to the meals he had to make in sight. Damn Luffy for making such a huge declaration with very little time to prepare and after such a long battle it meant he hadn’t seen you in what felt like a lifetime. With a heavy pout he tried to make the food as quickly as possible while still ensuring it was the best quality as always. The only problem was he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He wanted to see your face, hear your voice and laugh, embrace the feeling of your presence that he just could never get enough of. When he first met you he fell hard and knew that what he felt for you was far different than any other passing infatuation he’d experienced. Something told him that this was real and he made sure to enjoy every day with you being on the crew. It was just a shock but a very pleasant one that you also developed feelings for him too during the adventures on the crew and not once did he ever take it for granted.

At the sound of the door opening, Sanji turned ready to yell at Luffy to get out and wait patiently for the feast he was so desperate for only for his anger to die at the sight of you entering the room. Immediately he felt his legs carry him away from the stoves to meet you halfway, the excitement on his face unshakable and infectious as you returned the grin he had. His arms slipped around your body and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head and letting out a soft hum of contentment when your arms tightened around him. “Need any help?” You offered, looking up to smile at him.

“Just having you here is all the help I need, love.” Sanji told you gratefully, pressing one more kiss against your temple before reluctantly pulling away to tend to the mountain of food that still needed to be made. Having the brief moment would be enough to keep him sated until he was done. His heart skipped when you followed closely behind him and tucked yourself against his side. “Everything okay?” He asked, glancing down to see you look over his food in appreciation and a content smile on your lips.

“I’m great, I just know how Luffy’s spontaneity for this feast ruined any plans we had for today.” You told him, leaning your head against his chest. “Plus I missed you.” Sanji couldn’t help but beam at your words. He knew out of the two of you, he could seem the more invested one and sometimes clingy or overly affectionate so it was rewarding to hear you missed him just as much as he had been missing you. Overwhelmed with his rush of emotions he abandoned the food for another brief moment to lean down and kiss you deeply.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

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imnameimswrld · 2 months

Text

ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐘 ⁰⁰ ׄ ⑅ CS ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ in which, choi san goes from "that one shirtless guy" at coachella to a father of a whole ass formula 1 fandom.

— PAIRING ੭ haas!driver x choi san.

— FILE ੭ social media au.

— WARNINGS ੭ language.

— SERIES ੭ "WAIT...THEY MAKE SENSE !?" .

❪ main masterlist | kpop masterlist | f1 masterlist ❫

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

ynusername added to their story ! • 1hr

seen by landonorris, lewishamilton, and 2 223 233 others

landonorris replied to your story !

not u going to THE festival without ME.

and here I thought, we were friends.

mf, I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING.

you just don't utilize those two things on either side of your head.

dumbass.

😧😔, I see.

ynusername

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ynusername what a weekend omfg, THANK YOU COACHELLA !!

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user1 now wait just one damned minute...ain't that seonghwa and san in slide 7 ???

↳ user2 ayo since when does mother hang with ATEEZ ?? SPILL THE TEA MOTHER.

user3 yn's a atiny AND a fearnot !? my worlds are colliding holy shit.

user4 WHO IS THAT MAN MOTHER

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ateez_official_ added to their story ! • 1hr

seen by ynusername, howtodraw.cs, and 1 232 333 others

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

sooo

when were u gonna tell me we broke up ?

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

i almost fucking stormed into that office and put my manager in a chokehold

if hwa hyung hadn't stopped me, I'd be sending this from a jail cell.

I will fix this, yn

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

hey, honey, it's okay

don't do something that'll get you into trouble please.

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

no baby, it's not okay, and I'm going to make this right.

I'm not going to let the company flat out lie and let people think you're free and for the taking.

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

possessive, are we ?

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

you know damn well I am.

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

and I love it 😍😍

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰ 🐈‍⬛

I gotta go baby, my flight is leaving

I love you ! ❤

MY VV GIRL 🏎 ❤

love you to- wait.

what flight ?

babe ?

CHOI SAN.

WHAT FLIGHT.

ynusername

liked by kevinmagnussen, howtodraw.cs, and 2 334 343 others

ynusername still cannot believe it... p1 in China !? FUCK YEAH BABY.

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haasf1team L/N 🔛🔝

kevinmagnussen very well deserved yn, congrats ! 👏

↳ ynusername thank u sm kmag 🥺

user1 just to be clear...WE ALL FUCKING SAW SAN IN THE HAAS PADDOCK RIGHT !?

↳ user2 girl, the camera literally panned in on him and the screen said "San Choi, K-POP Idol & PARTNER OF L/N" 😃😃

↳ user3 so clearly san did NOT approve of the statement kq put out lol

user4 YNSAN IS MF REAL BITCHES 🤩🤩

user5 the proud smile san had on his face as he looked up at her on the podium, I AM CRYING MYSELF TO SLEEP TONIGHT.

user6 he really went from "that one shirtless guy" to father.

ynusername

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ynusername some down time in seoul is where it's at

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user1 they fr said "fuck you kq" and as they should.

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#f1 #f1 fanfic #kpop #smau #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez san #formula 1 #formula one #ateez #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #choi san #imnameimswrld #my work #haas f1 team

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mitskicain · 5 days

Text

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ batter up! — ken sato x reader

synopsis: you are now kenji’s personal athletic trainer, tasked to get him to recovery as soon as possible. the thing is though: is he willing to cooperate?

content warning: angst, brief mentions of injury, cursing and profanity

word count: 1.2k

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002: fencebuster

When you get a call from your boss telling you that he wants to talk to you, you think: son of a bitch, the guy snitched on me. You walk into his office, fully expecting to be fired for your behavior—either for constantly violating the no smoking rule, or for your blatant dismissal of Kenji last night—or a combination of both. Whatever it was, you were bracing for the worst. So imagine your surprise when your boss tells you the opposite: he needs you to be Kenji Sato’s personal athletic trainer.

Holy fuck I’m in hell, you think to yourself. I’ve officially reached rock bottom and now I’m in hell.

At first you decline on the basis of having already been swamped with other things, but then he offers you a raise and an exemption on the no smoking rule, and next thing you know, you’re taking the MRT to Tokyo Bay, headed over to the Sato Residence. Don’t kid yourself, you still don’t like the guy—but damn was that offer too good of a deal to pass up on. An exemption on the no smoking rule and a raise? It was going to be smooth cruising for the foreseeable future once you got this job done.

You are let into the house by Mina, their personalized super-AI. She explains that she functions sort of like an assistant, helping Kenji manage his day to day life and stay on top of things. You’re warmed by her friendly demeanor, however, you can’t help but think: boy, does this guy definitely have serious mommy issues. Once she gives you a tour of the house and all the facilities you’re welcome to utilize, she leads you to Kenji’s bedroom, where the man is still tangled in sheets, fast asleep, at 11AM in the morning.

“A princess should get up before the sun rises.” You say, feigning a Scottish accent, attempting to copy Queen Elinor from Brave. You draw back the curtains to let the sun’s rays into the room, completely transforming it from dark and gloomy, to bright and cozy. Turning to face a very displeased Kenji, you greet him. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

He stirs and pops his head up through the covers, bed hair and half his face still swollen from the impact. Wincing at the bright light, he immediately ducks his head back down, not wanting to go out of bed. You roll your eyes. In one swift motion, you pull the covers out the bed and confront the hunched figure, face pressed into his pillows.

“You can’t stay in bed forever.” You mutter, squatting down towards his level.

“Leave me be, I’m ill.” He says, voice muffled through the fabric. He looks up and meets your gaze, eyebrows furrowed. “Aren’t I supposed to stay in bed?”

“Yeah, but you’ll feel like shit the whole time.” You retort. You hear him groan into the pillow again, and, decide two can play that game. You pull him out of bed by his arm, and drag him forward. He scowls when you push him into the bathroom and tell him to freshen up, but obeys promptly and begins pulling his shirt off. Stunned, you watch as the topography of his back dips and changes with each movement, mesmerized at the sight. You think back to the anatomy classes you took in college, trying to recall the names of the muscles. Trapezius, rhomboid, latissimus dorsi..

God bless the Yomiura Giants, you say under your breath.

Sensing your gawking, Kenji shoots you a glare from behind his shoulder, which snaps you out of your trance. Wiping the bit of drool that had managed to escape your lips, you stammer an apology and excuse yourself to the kitchen, where you busy yourself making coffee and manage his prescription. Mina buzzes out to inform you that the catering had sent over his meal, and has set the table. You feel a sense of gratitude at the AI's helpfulness. I have got to get me one of these things, you thought to yourself.

When Kenji finally reppears from out the bathroom, it takes him one glance at the meal you’ve set up for him to huff disapprovingly and push the bowl towards you.

“I can’t eat that.” He says, head turned to the side and jaw muscle ticking. “That’s not food.”

You click your tongue and cringe at his childish behavior, wondering when you had signed up to become an adult babysitter. You push the bowl back towards him, voice stern. “You have to, catering says it’s supposed to help with your recovery.”

“I can’t recover on that!” He protests, and you give him an incredulous look, thinking: I’m not your mommy. You look him up and down before grabbing the spoon and taking a sip for yourself.

Fuck, he’s right, that’s not food, you think to yourself and whip out your phone, typing furiously. Kenji’s face twists into a one of alarm when he sees this, worried you might tell on his manager about his stubbornness.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He asks accusingly, reaching out to grab your phone but missing. You step back a bit and eye him warily before handing it over.

“Getting us some real food.” You explain, and you watch his expression soften and relax. He scrolls through the options, trying to figure out what to get as you keep your gaze fixed on him, leaning down on the counter to observe him closer.

“What?” He asks in an annoyed tone when he notices your staring.

You shake your head. “You’re not holding up too well, huh?”

He frowns at your question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, the phone.” You point out.

“What about it?”

“When you tried to grab it earlier, you were off by an inch or two.”

You watch his eyebrows knit together as he tries to make up an excuse. His tongue clicks and his shoulders rise defensively, but his mouth opens and closes like a fish, unable to come up with one. After a few moments, defeated, he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, exasperated. “This fucking concussion,” he curses.

You shrug your shoulders and pour yourself a cup of coffee, feeling indifferent. For some reason, this irks him. Kenji looks up at you, scowling and upset and all. You return the expression, sneering.

“I bet you get off on this.” He accuses.

“Excuse me?”

“You like seeing me like this, don’t you?” He says, voice laced with resentment, “I bet you’re happy seeing me suffer, unable to do basic things.”

You gawk at his statement, surprised that he was even assuming this about you. You look over at Mina who is in the living room, watching the whole thing unfold. You shake your head in disbelief.

“You know, believe it or not Kenji, I would never wish ill on any of my patients. Even you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” your voice raising with anger, “I think you’re a piece of shit.”

Kenji puffs his chest out, looking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you think he’s going to hit you, but he gets up from his chair to leave.

“Bitch.” He snaps, taking you back by surprise.

You look over to Mina, who feigns shaking her head disapprovingly. You roll your eyes, groan, and pinch the bridge of your nose. This was going to be a very long couple of weeks.

God, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, you pray ,before taking off to catch up to Kenji and fulfill your medical duties.

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author’s note: AHAHAHA stubborn pain in the ass Kenji in the fic 🤭🤭 even i got frustrated having to write his character because it brought back so many memories of me volunteering as sports medic and getting chewed out by the athletes 😩😩 I’m telling you guys, it’s brutal out there. Also AAAA so happy that it seems so many of you guys are enjoying the series 🥹🥹 the comments on the last part were absolutely crazy you guys are the sweetest 😭😭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anywayssss enjoy the angst ‼️‼️ there’s a bit more in the next episode before we get a bit of fluff :33

taglist: @witcwitchy @sassy-cat-in-town @miffysoo @fcklxnaa @azryaa @crispchocolates @spencerrxids @simp-hub @puppyminnnie @t4naiis @moonjellyfishie @mf-rockstar @mythicalmo @dark-mark @l0diluvs

#ultraman #ultraman: rising #kenji sato #ken sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x y/n #kenji sato angst #ken sato x reader #ken sato x you #ken sato x y/n #ken sato angst #Spotify

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mykoreanlove · 7 months

Text

conditional

„Baby? I’m home.“

Hyunjin came back from practice, beaten and tired, but eager to see you again. He threw his new Versace bag in the corner and scouted the area for you. “Baby?”

But his baby was nowhere to be found. He looked for you in every room – the living room was empty even though there were still some vanilla scented candles burning. Your bedroom was empty too, it still looked the same way it did when Hyunjin left you this morning. Now he was getting worried. “Y/Nnie?” He opened the door to your office but that was empty, too. Silently, he muttered to himself. “Damn, y/n, where are you?”

It wasn’t until he opened the door to the bathroom that he found you – passed out on the cold marble tiles.

Hyunjin was startled but quickly regained composure as he noticed your journal right next to you. He smirked amused. “Did you fall asleep while journaling again? What are you manifesting this time, baby?”

He crouched down and took a look at your journal, his handsome features suddenly turned ice-cold. Privacy was important in every relationship, especially this one, but he couldn’t help himself. He scanned the pages roughly – words of self-abuse were written all over those white pages. Hyunjin turned around and took a good look at you. Your face, even though you were asleep, looked in distress. Your cheeks were reddened, eyes puffy with your mascara smeared, turning you into a panda. “My baby cried herself to exhaustion”, he muttered in disbelief.

Your boyfriend decided to let you sleep for a while and invaded your privacy instead, he needed to know what made you upset like this. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? No.

He sat right next to you and took your journal into his hands. He once gifted you this brown leather book, in the hopes of you filling it with the most beautiful words. But what was written in here was far from beautiful.

I had a talk with Chan today. His daddy sensors were tingling, and he somehow knew that I felt off. I swear to God, he sees me as another kid of his. But I admit, it feels nice. I don’t like talking about my insecurities but with him it’s kinda easy. I never talk about them with anyone, not even Jinnie. I just can’t. I don’t want to.

Hyunjin stopped reading and let out a deep sigh. He looked at you again, wondering why you kept secrets from him. It hurt him tremendously, the love of his life couldn’t communicate her deepest pain with him. Instead, she talked to his hyung? He would confront Chan later, now was not the time for more drama.

How did I end up talking to Chan in the first place? Well, I ran into him when I was on the way back home. I had a very important doctor’s appointment today.

Hyunjin’s whole body shuddered, anxiety taking over. An important doctor’s appointment? How did he not know this? Were you sick? Was something wrong? He panicked, internally debating if he should wake you this instant. He chose to continue reading instead.

I have very bad period cramps and decided to check them out, so I went to the doctor. And he did some tests and what do you know? I might not be fertile. Can you believe that? Me, a young woman in the prime of her life, may not be fertile. I might never become a mom. Jinnie might never become a dad. At least, not with me.

Hyunjin choked.

Panicked, he turned around and faced you again. “Baby. My baby, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry that you had to handle this on your own. Oh my god, y/nnie.” He caressed your cheek with his hand and watched you sleep. He felt guilty, as if he missed out on important parts of your life. Why didn’t you trust him with this?

He noticed the tear strains on the next pages, tearing up as well.

It’s not fair.

Life is not fair. Why is something like this happening to me? I always took care of my body. I eat healthy, I work out, I take my vitamins but somehow, I’m not able to become a mom? Heck, I don’t even know if I want kids, but now I probably will never have the choice to decide.

Why me?

Hyunjin stopped reading for a second. He felt your pain in every written word and it shook him to the core. He couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your skin right now.

And after this appointment I ran into Chan in the park. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I guess I needed to let off some steam. I told him about the test results, and I told him that I felt like a giant failure, and I told him that I had no idea how I should tell Jinnie. Or rather if I should tell him at all or simply break up with him.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your dramatic ass. “As if you just could break up with me y/n. You’re stuck with me forever.” He continued reading.

Chan just listened and asked me one single question. Just one.

Do you believe you’re worthy of being loved?

Isn’t it funny how one question can catch you off guard? Because that is exactly what happened. And now I’m sitting here on the cold bathroom floor trying to make sense of it.

Do I believe I’m worthy of being loved?

“Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes”, Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

I guess?

I mean I have a wonderful boyfriend who clearly loves me very much, so the answer kind of has to be yes.

But do -I- believe I am worthy of being loved?

Hyunjin paused one last time and looked at you. He wondered if he should stop reading, he wondered if he was armed for whatever was about to come. Did you really not believe you were worthy of being loved? He felt the pit in his stomach, realizing he had to be the shittiest boyfriend on the planet. Not only did you keep secrets from him, but you also questioned something so banal. Wasn’t it his job to show you the exact opposite?

He let out a sigh and continued reading.

If I’m totally honest? No.

I never felt like that. I always felt like I had to be perfect in order to be worthy of love. But I never was perfect. And I never will be. My tits are too small. My tummy is too fat. My hair is too flat. My lips are too thin. I’m not cool enough. Now I’m not healthy enough. And soon I won’t be young enough. So no, I never felt like I was good enough to be loved.

Hyunjin cried silently, reading every word with care.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell Jinnie? He is going to leave me; he should leave me. I’m not normal, I’m flawed. I don’t deserve to be with him. He deserves someone better, someone on his level. Someone that is just as beautiful and popular as him. Someone with big tits and a flat tummy and super big hair and plush lips that he can kiss all night long. Someone that is healthy and might gift him a child someday. That can never be me.

Hyunjin tossed your journal aside and started bawling, his sobs distracting the silence of the night. He couldn’t believe this; he couldn’t believe you. Were you serious? That's what you thought of yourself? Why did you hate yourself so much?

His crying woke you up, alerting you in seconds. You got up on your feet and hugged him, holding him as tight as you could. “Jinnie, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He hugged you back and sobbed into your shirt, you were barely understanding a word.

“You, y/n, you’re what’s wrong!”

You paused, scanning the room for your journal. It was lying on the floor next to your crying boyfriend.

“Did you…?”

He nodded, wiping away his tears. Anger masked the shame you were feeling as you wanted to get up, but he was quicker and hugged you in the tightest embrace known to mankind.

“I had no right to, I’m sorry y/nnie. I am so, so sorry.”

Even though you felt ashamed you were relieved, too. Finally, the cat was out of the bag, and you didn’t have to carry this big burden on your own. You hugged for a while, both of you crying silently.

“Can we talk about what you wrote?”

“Do we need to?” You looked down.

His index finger tilted your chin carefully, looking at you with the utmost care. “Yes, my love. We need to.”

You sighed and gave in.

“Do you really feel that way?”

“Hm.”

“Do you think I’m perfect?”

“Of course. You are perfect, Jinnie.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Sometimes you remind me of a fourteen-year-old girl, y/n.”

You got offended: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do realize that nobody is perfect? Not even me?”

You scoffed. “Did you tell your face that?”

He let out a laugh. “You’re so silly, baby. What did you write about your tits being too small and your tummy too fat? I could say the same thing about me being too skinny and not ripped enough. You do realize that we all are beautiful in our own way? And that everybody got a different taste? What if I liked your tits this size? What if I loved your curves exactly like that? Has that ever occurred to you?”

It had not.

“And let’s talk about you being not normal. I understand that the fertility thing is a grave prophecy but that doesn’t make you less normal than anybody else. It doesn’t diminish your worth baby. Nothing could ever do that. Do you get that?”

You grabbed the hem of his shirt tighter and started sobbing again. “Jinnie, what if I can never conceive? What then?” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Then we’ll figure out a way, my love. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

You looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

He chuckled, flashing you his warmest smile. “Yes, I am sure. I love you, y/n. I love you for who you are. I fell for your soul baby, not your body or what you could do for me. To me you are absolutely perfect.” He kissed the tears away, holding you even more closely. “Y/Nnie? Don’t ever think that my love for you is-“

“Conditional?”

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