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traveler-at-heart · 2 months ago

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The Doctor's In

Summary: Billy Maximoff sustains an injury and Wanda comes to you, her neighbour who happens to be an ER doctor.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

For @esposadejoyhuerta - hope this week is better to us <3

Tired.

That’s all you are. You don’t even know how you manage to get home, dragging your feet through the door and dropping your bag next to the couch.

Sleep or eat?

You look between the kitchen and sofa, and the view of the cushions and the blanket you left there is far more attractive than the prospect of food.

Sleep it is.

Dropping face first on the couch, you sigh, excited at the idea of sleeping for the next few hours, until your next shift at the hospital.

You close your eyes, and don’t know how long you’ve been asleep until a desperate knock wakes you.

“Who is it?” you say, scared by the sudden noise.

“It’s Wanda”

You relax instanty, sighing with relief. Though you don’t speak regularly to your neighbours, Wanda is by far the nicest.

“Is everything ok?” as soon as you open the door, you can see her disheveled state and the fear in her eyes. “Wanda, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Billy had a little accident in the stairs and he’s in pain, I didn’t know what to do and remembered you’re a doctor”

“Come on” you let her lead the way, opening the door. As soon as you enter you can hear Billy’s cries and Tommy by his side. The boy is sitting at the bottom of the stairs, holding his right arm.

“Hey, Billy. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“It hurts” is all he manages to say.

“May I examine you? You can tell me if it hurts a lot or only a little, yes?”

The boy nods, trying to calm down as you inspect his arm. At a certain movement, he flinches, and you sigh, turning to Wanda.

“He needs an X-Ray”

“Ok, I’ll take him now”

“Why don’t I drive you?” you say, thinking it might be dangerous for Wanda to get behind the wheel when she’s in so much distress. The woman nods, and you help Billy up, making sure he doesn’t move his arm.

Wanda sits with both boys in the back of your car, her hands going through Billy’s hair to calm him down.

“Sorry about the mess” you say, looking at all the junk you had in your car.

“It’s alright” she says, looking a bit more relaxed. “I’m sorry for making you drive us, you must be exhausted”

“I don’t mind at all”

You look through the rearview mirror, Wanda smiling softly and you return the gesture, feeling a bit flustered.

“I thought I told you to go home” Chief Fury says as soon as you walk through the ER.

“Uh… my neighbour’s kid got into an accident so”

“Alright, then” his threatening glare softens as soon as his eyes land on the woman walking behind you and her two kids, Billy in a wheelchair.

“He needs an X-Ray, I didn’t see signs of a concussion or any other injuries”

“Admit him, get vitals and go to imaging. Ma’am, you can wait here while Dr. Y/L/N checks on your son”

“Can’t I go with him?”

“I’m afraid not”

“It’s alright, I won’t leave him alone” you squeeze her hand, pushing Billy to the X-ray room.

Luckily it’s empty when you walk in, the technician setting everything up quickly.

“I thought your shift ended” Darcy says and you shrug your shoulders.

“Shit happens”

Billy laughs and your eyes widen, forgetting you were around a child.

“Uh, maybe don’t tell your mom I said that, kid?”

“Hey, don’t do it for free. Get something in return for your silence” Darcy intervenes and you want to smack her. But Billy keeps on laughing as you argue with your friend, and it’s nice to see him smiling after being in so much pain.

Darcy whistles as soon as you look at the image of Billy’s fracture.

“Clean split”

“Yeah, he got lucky”

You figure it’s better to ask for an Ortho resident to help with the cast. Darcy keeps Billy company while you go talk to Wanda.

“Hey” you sit next to her, offering a cup of coffee you brought from the machine.

“How is he?” Wanda asks, looking at Tommy, who is sound asleep in the chair next to hers. You motion for her to stand up to talk without waking him up.

“Billy broke his arm but won’t need surgery. Just a cast for a few weeks and then we can remove it”

“I’m such an idiot” she curses and you’re taken aback by her outburst. As a trauma surgeon, you had seen your fair share of ugly situations, so a cast was one of the best outcomes all things considered.

“I shouldn’t have let them play, but it was late and I figured they just needed to run a bit more before they got tired” she goes on, hand running through her hair. You can see the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, stop” you place your hands in her arms, waiting until she looks at you. “Blaming yourself is not helping at all. Listen, kids get hurt playing, it’s practically a rite of passage. And I know it sucks and it’s scary but Billy is fine and I’m always around for anything, ok?”

“Ok” she nods and without thinking, you pull her closer, hugging her. Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, her scent pleasant and calming. You rub circles down her back and she relaxes.

“Thank you” she says, her hands still on your waist. You can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks, even in her disheveled state and your eyes travel to her lips.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” a resident approaches you, clearly hesitant to interrupt.

“Yeah” it takes you a second too long to look away, making Wanda blush.

“Billy is all set up” she informs you. “If Miss Maximoff filled out all the forms he’s good to go”

“Yeah, I did” the woman nods next to you, picking up her things and waking Tommy up. The resident leads you to a room where Billy is waiting for his mother. Tommy runs up to him and admires his cast, looking at the material in his brother’s arm.

“Here” you say, adjusting an armsling for him to rest. Signing his discharge and picking up some pain meds, you lead the Maximoffs out of the hospital.

By the time you park in your driveway it’s 2 AM and you have to be at the hospital in less than 12 hours.

“Come on sweetheart” Wanda tries to wake Billy, but you stand next to her and offer to carry him all the way to his room.

You’ve known Wanda for almost two years now but had never gone inside her house. As you carry the boy upstairs, you notice all the family pictures and drawings that the twins made.

“Sleep tight, little man” you say, moving aside so Wanda can remove his shoes and tuck him in. “Let me know if you need anything, ok? I’ll be home until noon”

“Oh, actually, can you wait a second for me? I’m sorry, it won’t be long”

“Sure” you nod, going down to the living room.

You don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or Wanda has an incredibly comfortable couch, but as soon as you sit there, you relax and drift off.

By the time Wanda tucks in both boys and comes downstairs, you’re fast asleep. The woman smiles, your features soft as you catch up on much needed sleep. Wanda pulls out a blanket and drapes it over your body, hoping you’ll finally be able to get some rest.

—

It smells amazing.

The scent of fried bacon and butter makes you open your eyes, your stomach suddenly very aware that you forgot to have dinner last night.

Looking around, you realise this isn’t your house, but it still takes a minute to remember everything. Wanda, the twins, the hospital.

“Morning” the woman says when she sees you looking confused; the way you rub the sleep off your eyes makes her heart flutter.

“Wanda, hey. Sorry, I crashed in your living room. I’ll get out of your way now”

“I’m making breakfast. I bet you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday”

“Well…” you rub your neck, stretching. You fold the blanket and walk to her, your mouth watering at the smell of everything.

“Orange juice?” she offers.

“Yeah, thanks” you take the glass. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’ve done enough, Y/N. Come on, sit. Enjoy”

You smile sheepishly, grabbing pancakes, bacon and some jam. The first bite is so good, you let out a loud moan.

“Sorry” you blush, Wanda biting her lip curiously at the sound you just made. “These are like the best pancakes I’ve ever had”

“Thank you” she sits across from you, drinking coffee and resting her chin on her hand. “Do you have to be back to work soon?”

“Yeah, in a couple of hours. I’ve got surgery and gotta make the rounds on some patients from yesterday”

“You work too much” she admonishes in her mom voice and you laugh.

“I’ve heard that one before”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have any family here and all of my friends are at the hospital, so it’s better than being home alone doing nothing”

“Not all of your friends are at the hospital” she says with a shy smile and you nod, appreciating her words.

“What about you? Anything interesting going on?”

“Aside from Billy and Tommy being pure chaos? No, that’s enough for a lifetime” she laughs, and it’s honestly the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“They’re really sweet kids. It must be hard work but you’re doing amazing with both of them, Wanda”

“Thank you” she looks down at her cup of coffee and you nod, eating the rest of your food in silence.

Wanda is about to say something else when your pager goes off.

“Oh, great” you mutter. “My surgery’s gonna be earlier. Gotta hurry up”

“Chew your food!” Wanda scolds when you began to put everything in your mouth.

“Sorry” you say, trying to slow down. Wanda rolls her eyes. “Can I at least do the dishes?”

“Fine” she concedes, and shows you where everything is. “You better eat before your surgery. Or I’ll pack you lunch”

“I promise I’ll eat” you say, rolling your eyes. Once the dishes are done you pick up your stuff and walk out the door, Wanda close behind. “Let me know if you need anything? Billy might have some discomfort but the meds should be enough. But either way, call me”

“I don’t actually have your phone number” she says, making you frown.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here” You take out a piece of paper from your pocket and scribble on it. “Anything at all, call me. Even if I’m in surgery, I’ll make sure one of the nurses answers for me”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Those pancakes were heavenly. Thank you”

It’s hard for you to say goodbye to Wanda, but you hear the twins calling and decide it’s time to go back home.

The woman gives you a nod and you reach out, squeezing her hand. You feel warm as you go back to your place.

To be honest, you’re hoping Wanda calls you, for more than just a consult.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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daisiesinvienna · 3 months ago

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Hi! I live for your writing and i just saw that you write for daryl dixon too??

Could you write a oneshot where daryl and reader were separated after the prison, and when joe and his gang get revenge on rick she’s there instead of michonne?

Reckoning and Restitution

Title: Reckoning and Restitution

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: After you and Daryl were separated during the fall of the prison, Daryl finds himself in a gang he doesn’t want to be in while looking for you. But when Joe and his gang seek revenge on Rick for strangling one of their friends in a bathroom, you get caught in the crossfire.

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, gore, swearing, sexual assault.

Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus

Author’s Note: I had something planned for Billy but I saw this request and couldn’t resist. This is a little dark, but if you watched the scene in the show you should be alright reading this. Also I saw this big ass spider run across my floor while I was writing this and now I can’t find it so i’m gonna go sleep on the couch

The sun had begun to disappear into the horizon, casting long shadows across the cement.

You allow yourself to admire how the sky briefly turns into a vast, endless, ever-changing canvas of color, then starts to fade. Sunsets like these always make you feel hopeful, reminding you that even though the world had ended, you still have a chance at a happy ending. The sun would always rise and set, always paint the sky those brilliant colors, despite the horrors occurring down on earth. At least for another few billion years.

The sun slowly sinks down into the horizon, taking with it the last few golden rays of light. Now, as the three of you trudge down the desolate and winding road, the sky slowly fades to black.

You glance over at Rick, who has his eyes fixated on something up ahead. You follow his gaze, making out the silhouette of an abandoned vehicle not too far down the road, under the branches of a particularly large tree.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” Rick says as the three of you reach the car. He pries open the car door to inspect the interior for anything of use as you check the perimeter for walkers.

It had certainly been a long day. You and Rick had decided to take your chances and head towards Terminus, thinking you could at least see if anyone from your group had gotten the same idea. But it was far away, and a difficult trip with a kid in tow. Especially when the kid was going through the difficult pre-teen phase.

It was lucky that you had found Rick and Carl after the prison fell. Or they found you, more like. Rick had quite literally drug you from the carnage, because you were so intent on finding Daryl. It took some convincing before you finally followed Rick and Carl away from the prison. You knew that with Daryl’s inhuman tracking skills, he would have no issue finding you. But it had been at least a few weeks, and there was no sign of him. It was an understatement to say you were worried.

You plop down on the side of the road with a sigh, calculating in your head the days until you would reach Terminus. You had been keeping relaxed and calm by telling yourself firmly that Daryl would be waiting at the gates with that pissed-off look he always seemed to have no matter his mood.

Rick sits down beside you, having set up Carl in the backseat of the old car. He rummages around his pack before pulling out the last two granola bars, holding one out to you. You wave him off, knowing it would be wasted on you and should be saved for Carl.

He doesn’t falter, giving you his signature stern look.

“Take it,” He tells you, and you slowly accept the granola bar. “You’ve barely eaten today.”

You gratefully rip open the plastic packaging and take a bite, knowing he was right.

“Thanks,” You mumble through a mouthful of food. Rick nods, opening one for himself as he glances towards the car where Carl slept. You know all too well the look of concern etched on his face, though he tries to mask it.

“He’ll be alright,” You state, taking another bite of your granola bar. Rick sighs, averting his gaze from the broken-down car. “He’s a tough kid.”

“I just wish he didn’t have to be,” Rick mutters, staring off into the woods. You nod slowly in agreement, opening your mouth to speak when you hear a stick break under someone’s boot behind the two of you.

Your hand immediately flies to your hip, hungry for the knife you knew was tucked into your belt. But just as you had wrapped your fingers around the hilt, the cool barrel of a gun was pressed against your temple.

About ten rough-looking men emerge from the woods, all carrying guns and looking eager, like they were excited to see what Santa had brought them for Christmas. They slowly but strategically space themselves out, surrounding you and Rick so you had no escape route. You glance at Rick, to see that he has a gun to his head too, held by a man that had a sick grin on his face.

“Oh dearie me. You fucked up, assholes,” He announces, his voice sending chills down your spine. Your knife is yanked from your belt and flung onto the concrete, and you slowly raise both of your hands into the air, knowing there was no way out.

“You hear me? You fucked up,” The man holding a gun to Rick’s head says, laughing. He was the clear leader of the gang. “Today’s the day of reckoning, sir. Restitution! A balancing of the whole damn universe! Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year’s Eve. Now who’s gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?”

You knew that even if you and Rick retaliate at the same time, it would be pointless. Every man in the surrounding area was pointing a gun at the two of you. This wasn’t going to be good.

“10 Mississippi!”

What would happen when he finished counting, you didn’t know. You lock eyes with Rick, and he gave you a look that makes it plain you weren’t to try anything. Not yet, at least.

“9 Mississippi!”

You glance at the car parked a few yards away. One of the men was looking in the window at Carl, waving and grinning maliciously. Carl had woken up, and he looked from the man outside his window to his Dad, who was on his knees with a gun to his head.

“8 Mississippi!”

“Joe!” You hear someone shout. From behind the car, a man cautiously walks out. It was dark, so you can’t quite make out their face, but you could never forget that southern drawl. Your heart skips a beat.

“Hol’ up,” Daryl murmurs, stepping into a patch of moonlight. You stare at him in disbelief. Your eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes it clear he doesn’t want any of this. His eyes dart from you to the guy behind you, who was still pressing a gun to your temple. You feel a surge of hopefulness. Daryl wouldn’t let this happen.

“You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” Joe retorts, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“Just hold up,” Daryl mutters again, clearly looking for a way to stop this without pissing Joe off.

“This is the guy that killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about!” Shouts a gruff looking man with a shotgun.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl,” Joe says, gesturing at him with the air of giving him the spotlight.

“These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. These are good people,” Daryl says softly to Joe, almost pleading. There was a hint of panic in his voice, though his facial expression was determinedly calm. You had never heard him speak this way before.

“Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll of course have to speak for him and all because your friend here, strangled him in a bathroom!” Joe yells.

“You want blood. I get it. Take it from me, man,” Daryl says, throwing his crossbow aside and raising his hands in surrender.

“No!” You shout immediately, scrambling to your feet. “Daryl, No!”

The man behind you roughly yanks you back to the ground. You try to pull yourself from his grasp, but you stop struggling against him when you hear the click of the safety on his gun. The man covers your mouth with his hand.

“Hush up now, bitch. I don’t want to have to shoot you yet,” He says, pressing the barrel to your temple. You instantly feel sick to your stomach.

“You keep your hands off her!” Daryl says firmly, taking a furious step towards the two of you with murder in his eyes, before two guys grab onto his arms and yank him back.

“This man killed our friend!” Joe laughs, smiling broadly. “You say he’s good people. See, that right there… is a lie.”

“It’s a lie!” Joe repeats triumphantly. This seems to be some sort of code, because to your horror, a good number of the men surrounding you advance on Daryl.

Daryl swings at the one who reaches him first, knocking him to the ground with one powerful blow. Before he can even turn around, the other men are on him.

“No!” You shout desperately, watching Daryl try and fend off at least six guys. Daryl was strong, but he was significantly overpowered. “He didn’t do anything! Leave him alone!”

Daryl manages to land a few blows on his attackers, but they soon manage to get him on the ground.

“Teach ‘em fellas, teach ‘em all the way!” Joe laughs. He then gave the other men a nod, which you soon realize was the ‘go ahead.’

The man holding onto you shove you forward onto the ground, and you hit your head painfully on the concrete. Before you realize what was happening, you are roughly flipped onto your back and the man had crawled on top of you. You hear the sound of the car door opening, and Carl’s yelp as someone drug him out of the car and flung him on the ground.

“You leave him be!” Rick shouts angrily. You could hear the sounds of grunts and fists colliding with flesh somewhere behind you, and knew that Daryl was putting up a hell of a fight.

The man on top of you pins your hands above your head with one of his, and you thrash and shout as you struggle to escape his grip.

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s so much more fun when you fight it,” The man purrs, smirking down at you as he roughly tore your shirt off, buttons scattering onto the road.

“No! No, stop it! Get- off- me!” You shout, starting to panic as he roughly grabs at your chest.

“Don’tcha fuckin’ touch her!” Daryl yells furiously from behind you, but his shouts are silenced as the men continue to land blow after blow.

“Listen it was me, it was just me!” Rick shouts desperately as Carl’s yelps become louder from next to the car. Tears are streaming down your face as you struggle against the man above you. What did they want with Carl?

“See now that’s right! That’s not some damn lie. We can settle this, we’re reasonable men,” Joe says, sounding genuinely entertained by the sight before him, as if he was watching the ending of a suspenseful movie.

“First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death,” Joe says. It sounds like Daryl’s resisting was starting to slow, but the impact of fists didn’t falter. If anything, they sped up.

“Daryl!” You yell as a last resort, the man starting to fiddle with the button on your cargo pants. You desperately try to free yourself, knowing what was going to happen to you if you didn’t escape. “Daryl!”

The man grabs you roughly by your hair, lifts your head, and hits it hard against the concrete below you. You groan, impossible pain flooding your head. You were too dizzy to struggle, and as your vision faded in an out you fought with all your might to stay conscious. Going unconscious in this situation would be deadly.

“Then we’ll all have the girl,” Joe says as quiet sobs escape you. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone.

“Then the boy,” Joe laughs. You could faintly hear the sound of Carl’s cries for help, and someone laughing loudly.

“Then I’m gonna shoot you, and then we’ll be square!” Joe laughs manically, foolishly bending down behind Rick. But his laughter was silenced by the slight inconvenience of Rick breaking his nose with the back of his head. Rick lunged for his gun, and the two started scuffling. The man on top of you didn’t care too much.

“What’s the matter, girl? No more fight left in ya?” He laughs, starting to attempt to pull your cargo pants down, ignoring your quiet begging.

Everyone suddenly turns around in shock to look at Rick and Joe when a horrible scream pierces the air. Then, somebody spat.

You seize the opportunity, and in the moment of silence, you use your remaining strength to knee your distracted attacker in the balls as hard as you possibly could. He shouts in pain, bringing his hand down to hit you across the face, making you see stars. The gunshots ringing through the air drowns out whatever vulgar word he calls you. Rick had gotten his hands on a gun, and you hear multiple bodies drop behind you. Before you know what’s happening, Daryl lunges out of nowhere and tackles your attacker, knocking him off of you.

Daryl got on top of the man, landing blow after blow on his face. He had a look of pure rage his eyes that you’d never seen before. Rick was violently stabbing the man who grabbed Carl. You scramble to your feet, ignoring the dizziness, looking around frantically. Bodies littered the ground. All of the men were dead, except for Joe, who was still choking on his own blood on the pavement.

Daryl finally stops hitting the man, before pulling his knife from his hip and stabbing him through the heart. Rick had long but killed Carl’s attacker, and you hear the body drop. Then there was almost complete silence, only broken by Joe gurgling and spluttering blood onto the pavement and the ringing in your ears.

Daryl turns to look at you, scanning you for injuries. His face is horribly bruised and bloody. When he stands up, Daryl stumbles up to you and immediately pulls you into his arms. You sink into them gratefully, before the tears started.

He holds you close, apologizing over and over again for hundreds of different things as you cry into his chest.

You’ll never admit it, but you were losing hope that you’d ever see him again. He very well could’ve died at the prison and you never would have known. But now as you clung to him, you realize that that was a stupid thing to think. Nothing could kill Daryl Dixon, except Daryl Dixon.

“I never stopped lookin’ for ya,” Daryl murmurs, his voice cracking. You look up at him to see tears streaming down his face. You’d never seen him cry before. “‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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cheollipop · 11 months ago

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☂˚.⋆｡ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨

navi | taglist | part of svthub's fall-ing collab

pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.0k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, apple picking and pie baking and some sweet lovemaking <3

a lovers’ retreat—golden rays cast shadows over high, blushing cheekbones, flour-kissed noses and eye smiles as warm as the oven’s embrace, secrets and tender kisses shared with the starry night, and in a wooden cabin fragrant with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, the love shared was sweeter than the finest apple pie.

☂ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, praise, edging, some begging, some cockwarming, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (f), nicknames (min; baby, babe, love), some aftercare, seokmin is so fucking whipped (so is reader), there's so much love talk in this, I hate myself.

☂ A/N: nobody come for my inconsistent pie recipe, I didn't use one (also idc if you don't knead the dough, i needed it to describe seokmin's bulging muscles tyvm). other than that, this fic means a lot to me and despite struggling for the most part, I really enjoyed writing it. happy reading! :]

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Slender fingers rounded the hanging fruit, examining for imperfections with eager eyes and the tip of a tongue held between pearly whites. The crisp air contrasted the solacing warmth of the morning sun under which you basked, strolling between green leaves and bright reds with a near-empty basket dangling at your side. You wanted him to work faster, to disregard whatever negligible bumps lay on the apples’ exterior, but you opted to remain silent, simply watching him from the sidelines while he carried on with his meticulous inspections.

Seokmin was spring. Smiles that could bring a barren land to life, vivid flora and singing birds fluttering around within the glimmers decorating his irises. But spring had long since ended, now treading deeper into the cooling weather of autumn, and yet, Seokmin still offered verve to everything he touched. Even as green turned to yellow then amber, and tanned skin rested beneath thick layers of cashmere and fleece, he still wore his spring smile—a reminder that the season of life will come again. He carried warmth wherever he went, and the biting chill attempting to penetrate thick layers of clothing stood no chance while his towering figure remained by your side.

You watched him throw the fallen end of his scarf over his shoulder, a woven cream he’d worn on your first date. Hoary yarn ends peeked out along its length, and you reminisced the store tag he’d forgotten to remove while he fiddled with his fingers and laughed anxiously before you all those years ago, so young and eager to impress. You’d mused over the giggles shaking his tense shoulders, the pretty pink painting his face and ears when you failed to rip it off in a discreet manner, and though the embarrassment was debilitating in the moment, the worry weighing down on Seokmin’s shoulders faded away as you laughed. It was well into winter when you’d walked alongside the river, steaming cups of hot chocolate resting between your palms—going cold before you had the chance to sip on them, only there to fight off the bleak midwinter breeze numbing your appendages. Young and dumb, you both were, walking by the river on a chilly day, but young and dumb brought upon you years of easy smiles and hearty laughs, unconditional love and unending happiness, all sprouting from sharing arbitrary details about yourselves with that same cream scarf draped around you both.

Dark locks now dyed the colour of changing leaves, the morning rays casting their golden hue over the wavy strands and reflecting off the specs perched over his nose bridge. Seokmin was a few inches taller now, and his shoulders broader, but the smile he wore, the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on you were no different than those from that day by the river.

Chatter at your side dragged your attention off Seokmin’s profile and onto the family walking past you—two curious children and their parents inspecting the ripe fruit hanging before them. Scripts of late-night conversations you’d had with Seokmin flooded your mind, your face flushing and butterflies swarming your lower belly at the thought of starting a family with the man. Seokmin's fascination with learning how to braid your hair, his whispered comment—’for the future’—did not go unnoticed as he brushed gentle fingers through the stands he’d tangled in his attempts, a hint of a promise in his tone. He also promised to never leave them alone with Hoshi, which you appreciated. For obvious reasons. You were still young, and had much to experience together before taking a step that significant, but part of you was ready to offer Seokmin the world. A man who’d brought nothing bliss and warmth into your life, how could you not?

Turning your head back to the man in question, your eyebrows raised as you watched him eying the passing family alongside you, and you wondered whether the same thoughts were running through his head as well. But then his attention shifted back to you, and the amiable smile while he took you in told you everything you needed to know.

The curve of his lips persisted as he reached a hand to push the stray strands blown by the chilling breeze off your face, pinching the fat of your cheeks between his pointer and thumb before dropping them back to his side. A gentle gesture, but it lit your insides on fire, blinking quickly as you processed an action so natural to him, yet one that set you ablaze. Swallowing nervously, you redirected your gaze to the three apples resting over Seokmin’s palms as he presented the flawless, shiny Honeycrisps with a proud grin.

You giggled, “those look great, Min.”

“Only the best for you,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto the cheek he’d just pinched.

Flustered, you watched him throw the apples into the basket you held, his fingers brushing against yours as he swiftly pulled it out of your hand and carried on walking through the orchard. You might have missed a few additions to the small pile while you pondered about a lifetime by Seokmin’s side, and yes, the basket was significantly more weighed down now that he did. But it wasn’t that heavy.

You skipped a few steps to catch up with him, your bottom lip jutting out in protest. “Min. I can carry it myself.”

“Mm, I know,” he hummed, eyes trained on the novel batch of apples swinging gently at his eye level. “Don’t want you to, though.”

You pushed away the fondness warming your chest, capturing his coat’s sleeve between two fingers as you sulked at his side, his attention still set on those damn apples. He moved the basket to his other hand absentmindedly, allowing you more space to come closer to his side, his free arm wrapping around your waist, and head twisting to look over your moping features with tender adoration gracing his own. Leaning down, he pressed soft lips to your forehead, their warmth seeping into your skin and fluttering your eyelids shut.

Placing another one at your temple, playfulness mingled in his tone as he spoke, “Stop complaining, you’re not getting it back.”

And this time, all you could do was laugh.

The hours hurried by while Seokmin’s endless chatter kept you company, and perhaps you wish it hadn’t, wanting to treasure each passing second you shared in the presence of the man with the unwavering smile. You walked between the endless trees with leisure steps, the fingers entangled with yours occasionally dragging you with them to inspect the gradient of red and green. Some apples made the cut, thrown into the pile of spotless fruit he’d gathered over the past few hours, while others remained swaying with the gentle breeze, bruised exterior reflecting the golden rays.

A particular shade of green caught Seokmin’s eye, leaving your hand behind at your side to wrap slender fingers around the glossy circumference, rotating it gently to inspect it, going as far as leaning forward to get a closer look. Nodding to himself, he snapped its stem off and placed the weighted basket down, wrapping the apple in his cream scarf to give it a good wipe. You felt yourself salivate at the satisfying crunch sounding as Seokmin’s teeth breached the unblemished skin, and you watched the pucker of his lips as he chewed with wide, expecting eyes. A breathy chuckle contained within tightly pursed lips echoed in the back of his throat upon viewing the anticipation etched into your expression, and he moved the unbitten side towards your already-parted lips. Too focused on the apple nearing your waiting mouth, you’d missed the sly smile, the giggle he’d nearly failed at suppressing, and bit into the polished green.

A stream of its juice slipped past to flow down your chin, bitterness overwhelming your tastebuds and forcing your eyes firmly shut. A shiver ran down your spine as you struggled to chew on the unripe fruit, tears prickling in your eyes as you willed them open to glare at the man before you, hints of guilt mixed in with amusement on his face. Underneath all the kind smiles and caring gestures, Seokmin loved being an asshole.

He’d watched you persist and push through finishing the bite, too many people around now to spit it out. He even leaned forward to kiss away the tangy juice cooling over your skin, scrunching his nose at the sourness he’d willingly stolen another taste of. At least he was aware enough to take a step back once you’d swallowed the unpleasant bite down, what you thought was fear flashing across his features.

“Hey,” he put his hand up in defence before you could speak, “we share everything, right?” He took another step backward while giggling anxiously, and he nearly tripped over the apple-full basket he had resting over the soft grass. “Why should I make an exception for fruit?”

“Bad fruit,” you corrected, an eyebrow raised.

“Babe,” he started, but didn’t know how to continue, perhaps hoping the sparkling brown of his irises would do the trick.

And it almost did, you admit. But the bitterness lingered over your tongue, and Seokmin found himself scurrying away and out of the fire zone of the incoming apples you’d launched at him, laughing while you entertained the couples and children harvesting their own fruit with your lively act of revenge.

You smoothed your hands down the fresh set of clothes you’d thrown on, the fleece warm against your skin. The ligneous scent of your rented cabin added to its coziness, gentle winds blowing against closed windows and floorboards creaking with every socked footstep guiding you to the small kitchen.

Said footsteps quickened upon spotting bright green reflecting off the sharp metal of the very large knife in Seokmin’s hand, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on dividing the apple into even crescents. The hurried shuffling drew his attention, twisting his head just as you reached for the sharp tool, gently untangling his fingers off its handle to set it down over the cutting board alongside the botched fruit.

“Baby?” Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you in confusion.

You held both his hands in yours, flat over your palms as you inspected the tanned skin. Running your thumbs over polished nailbeds, you followed the protruding veins lining his slender fingers, all the way down each knuckle until you’d made sure he was unharmed. You enclosed his fingers within your palm, bringing them up to press your lips against, finding his pointer to plant an especially tender kiss over the scar stretching across its side.

“I was being careful,” he spoke through a melodramatic pout.

You smiled. “I know you were, Min. But let me handle the chopping this time, okay?”

Averting his eyes to the side, pretending to focus on the yellowing trees past the windowpane, Seokmin nodded, his hands limp in your hold. You lowered them to his side to cradle his jaw, tilting his head down to meet your eyes once again and staring him down in hopes of breaking his composure, but Seokmin’s pout persisted. And so the kisses began, soft and delicate over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes shut as you trailed your lips over the trembling skin. Leaning your head back, you watched his evident struggle against a betraying smile, finally curling the corners of his mouth when you’d dragged his head down with a forceful kiss to his cheek, the skin stretching under your lips while you kept them pressed there for a few more seconds. You moved away with an audible smack, Seokmin’s pout nowhere to be seen as he stared down at you with an uncontainable smile.

“Why don’t you make the dough instead?”

You picked up where Seokmin left off—half an apple chopped sloppily, which you ended up munching on while you worked—going through the washed apples to pick out the greenest, cutting them into even pieces and throwing them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. You remembered the nutmeg later on, after the frustrated noise at your side caught your attention, confusion raising your eyebrow when you’d noticed the powdery dough Seokmin was working with. He’d forgotten the eggs. The embarrassment on his face was adorable, rose-tinted cheeks and restrained smile while watching you crack an egg into the crumbly mess he’d been working on for a shameful amount of time. A quick kiss to his jaw and a whispered ‘it’s okay, Min’ seemed to do the trick, though.

Tossing the last of the apples into the seasoning bowl, you sprinkled nutmeg over the shimmering crescents before grabbing a clean spoon from the dishrack, the spices’ aroma wafting in the air around you as you mixed them in with the fruit. Glancing over at Seokmin, you realised he’d begun kneading the dough, flour dusted over the marble counter as he rolled the raw crust in on itself, and as you took in the hard muscle bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers unconsciously loosened around the spoon you held. Your eyes wandered over flexing biceps and defined, broad shoulders, veins protruding from tan skin as he worked the dough under his palm. Bottom lip tucked between a set of pearly whites, his eyebrows furrowed occasionally while the ball gradually smoothened in his hands, growing less crumbly and eventually forming a near-perfect sphere.

Absentmindedly tumbling the apples with a limp grip around the spoon, you followed Seokmin’s movements, lower belly fluttering with every faint, airy grunt sounding in the back of his throat as he worked the dough. Your thoughts strayed as you eyed the distracting flex of his muscles—the smile he wore, so sweet and tender, contrasted broad shoulders and the strength to manhandle you without much thought. You were almost certain Seokmin had no awareness of the fact, going about what he was doing without much regard to the blushing mess he’d left behind, the butterflies violently thrashing around within your stomach. The sparkling orbs with which he gazed at you, with charming innocence, oblivious to the effect he had on you. Perhaps that was for the best; you weren’t sure you’d want to find out what would become of him should he learn of the hidden power he’d been holding this entire time.

Sudden eye contact dragged you out of your daydreams when the man before you turned in your direction, the smooth doughball resting over his palm, and a proud smile on his lips. You held back the one threatening to break out on yours when you’d spotted the white dusting the pointy tip of his nose, some lightly powdering his cheeks as well. Instead, your chest warmed at his wordless flaunting as he slowly moved the undented dough towards you, sparkling eyes fishing for praise. And sure, you basically made the dough for him, and yes, all he did was mix the ingredients together with firm, hard-earned muscle, but the slight falter in his smile the longer you remained silent was enough to sway you.

“It looks great, Min!” You stepped closer, inspecting the roundness with wide eyes for a few seconds before straightening up to meet his eyes, “I’m proud of you, my love.”

Though a simple gesture, Seokmin’s face lit up, all but hurling the dough onto the counter to pull you into his arms, grinning into your shoulder while he squeezed your laughing frame closer to his chest. His arms still around you, he pulled away slightly, stars dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you gleefully, smiling against your lips as you got onto your tiptoes to kiss him lightly. But that didn’t satisfy Seokmin, his arm wrapping across your back to pull you back into him, locking his lips with yours once again, this time with hunger and hints of desire laced into the action. He kissed you once, twice, until he’d had a taste and realized he’d never have enough, needing sweetness and plush lips to forever bless his senses. While you held on to his biceps for balance, Seokmin was everywhere—hands up your back, over your arms and waist, and suddenly he was kissing you harder, deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip and teeth digging into it with a fervent want that sent waves of heat soaring through your body.

Pulling away for air, your chests heaved in unison, flush against one another as Seokmin peered down at you with hooded eyes, a spark of lust igniting the dark irises. And suddenly you were back in the present, the forgotten apples browning in their bowl, and the dough witnessing the heated exchange from its place on the counter.

“T-the pie!” you quickly diverted, pushing Seokmin away to shift your focus back to the task at hand, but you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull. “Can you preheat the oven please?”

An amused laugh sounded behind you at the shakiness of your voice, “yes, boss.” Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard him take a step towards you, his chest bumping into your shoulder and a gentle whisper blowing against the shell of your ear. “You have flour all over your face, by the way.”

And your pants, you thought, as his palm landed a playful slap onto your ass before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.

The heat coursing through you dwindled as you fixated on the unfinished pie, save for those resulting from the not-so-hidden glances you’d stolen of Seokmin’s defined biceps as he moved the rolling pin over the dough. It was smooth sailing after that, though, missing the heart eyes directed at you as you spooned the filling into the rolled-out crust, perfectly fitted into the baking mould. You attempted to control your expressions as Seokmin tried and failed to cut straight lines out of the leftover dough, begrudgingly allowing him to place the uneven lattice in a questionable pattern, the chipper smile stretching his lips while he worked more than enough to excuse an ugly pie.

Carrying the raw pie over his head like Simba, Seokmin made his way to the oven. You held the door open for him, eyes following the baking mould as he transferred it onto the rack, gasping when his finger met the scorching metal. He placed the pie down and pretended nothing happened, ignoring the forming mark on his knuckle as he swung the oven door shut. And despite the whining and attempts of reassurance, you dragged Seokmin to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, once again kissing his pout away while you stood with barely any space separating your bodies.

His free hand slid across the small of your back, his other leaving its place under the running water to shut it off, wiping the droplets over his sweats before holding onto your hip. Leaning down, he met your lips once more, then again, until short pecks deepened, and a sharp nose nuzzled into the side of yours as he pulled you further into his body.

You pulled away with a gasp, startling Seokmin away from your lips, “the sweet potatoes!”

The initial shock replaced by softening eyes and a breathy laugh, Seokmin squeezed your waist once before releasing you. He stood to the side while you wrapped foil around the sangria exterior, offering to put them in the oven for you, but backing down at the disapproving glare you threw at him. Perhaps Seokmin had unintentionally caused a case of Pavlovian conditioning, one you remained unaware of, because the very second his bottom lip jutted out, yours were pressing consoling kisses over its plushness. Sometimes it took a few tries, but that’s only because you enjoyed watching the man—broad shoulders and all—sulk and whine when he didn’t get his way, only to lighten up and grin once your lips met his. It’s unclear who the winner was in this game, both parties working with a motive and ending with a satisfying result. Peculiar, really.

You settled down on the creaky floorboards across from the oven, your back to Seokmin’s chest and his thighs on either side of yours. His arms rested comfortably around your waist, hands limp at your hips, occasionally squeezing at the clothed flesh. Watching the pie crust brown through the glass, you basked in the cosy aroma circulating the cabin, the heat emanating from Seokmin’s body gentler and more comforting than that caramelising the sugar drizzled over the wonky lattice. Delicate fingers smoothed down your hair, and a silky voice lulled you to a tranquil state of comfort, strong arms holding you within the aura of warmth until a sharp click sounded, with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and caramel to guide you out of slumber’s enticing grip, and back to toothy smiles and a cordial embrace.

The night’s breeze was crisp against slick skin, the warmth encased within the confines of the thick blankets now infiltrated through a window forgotten open. Seokmin noticed the raised goosebumps over your arms, and lowered his body until your chests laid flush, his forearms on either side of your head keeping his weight off your form.

“Cold?” he asked, lips pressing against your jaw and up to your cheekbone, over the frosty tip of your nose.

You shook your head, “not anymore,” and wrapped your arms around the soft skin of his waist.

Seokmin smiled, gentle features illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the cracked-open blinds—a cool-toned hue casting shadows over his face, moving as he pressed his pelvis closer to yours with an exhaled moan. Moving his weight over to one arm, he slid the other down to your core, splaying his palm out over your lower belly to thumb at your clit.

He’d been teasing you for so long—his cock filling you up the way you wanted, but only barely teasing your g-spot, refusing to move despite your repetitive whines; instead, he occasionally reached two slender fingers between your legs to relieve some of the arousal burning underneath your skin. This time, though, you’d reached your limit, clenching around him as a sudden high rushed through you, shaking your body within his hold.

Despite a day’s worth of lingering touches and heated kisses, a hand placed a little too low on your back, and eyes lit with unconcealed glints of want, the patience Seokmin exhibited as he guided you through your orgasm was not surprising. He’d always enjoyed giving—curling his fingers just right to take in the elegant arch of your back, your sweet taste on his tongue while he nuzzled his nose into your soaked pussy. But most of all, Seokmin savoured the tight squeeze around his cock as he fucked you through an orgasm, his breath heavy and eyes lidded with the pleasure your walls lavished upon him.

Slowly fading back into the present, you peered up at the man atop you, the column of his throat stretched as he took in the violent fluttering of your walls. But you wanted more, pent up and restless with his scent, his warm touch, occupying your every sense. And he still won’t move.

You rolled your hips experimentally, a startled hand rushing to stop you, fingers digging into the flesh to stifle the motion. “Please,” you whined, “Min, please move.”

Groaning at your tone, cock throbbing between your walls, “oh baby,” he breathed out, bumping his forehead with yours and allowing his eyelids to fall shut. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day. I wanna last for you, my love, ‘wanna make you feel so good.”

Arousal boiled in your lower belly, eyelashes fluttering and a shaky breath escaping your parted lips at the words whispered in the air between you. “Min-”

“Let me be good for you.”

A kiss to your temple and a few inhales were all it took Seokmin to regain his composure, his forehead still pressed to yours as he tugged you closer by the hips, languidly rolling his own into your heat. The leisure glide wasn’t much, but it sent a shiver through your body. It was as though Seokmin could read the wordless pleads sparkling in your eyes, pulling his face away just enough to adjust the angle before settling back down onto your body. Fingers tangled in your hair to keep your eyes on his, blinking in unison while you breathed the same air, gentle waves of pleasure drawing breathy moans out of the both of you, his cockhead brushing against your sweet spot every time he drove it inside your cunt.

Sliding a hand over his sweat-coated nape, you dragged Seokmin down to your lips, the sweetness of a pie forgotten outside enriching your tastebuds, the single remaining piece left over the picnic blanket alongside crumbled foil—the unintentionally discarded dessert serving as breakfast for the blackbirds to nip at when the morning came.

The hand lost in your hair found its way to your jaw, cradling your face while he devoured you, the kiss growing deeper the farther Seokmin sunk down the blazing pit of lust growing within him. His cock twitched erratically within you, pace picking up until the echo of skin-on-skin danced between the four walls, hips slamming against yours with fervour as his eagerness finally won over him. Unable to focus on anything but the mind-numbing heaviness of his cock pounding into you, your lips parted to release a staccato of ah’s, his own relentless as they peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your face.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed your cheeks with the hand previously on your jaw, squishing them together to lay his lips onto the forced pout on yours, “all mine.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the repetitive abuse to your cunt, squelching obscenely every time Seokmin fucked his entire length inside. “All—hngh—all yours,” you repeated, exhaling a breath you’d been holding when sudden warmth spread through your abdomen.

“I—hah—‘m sorry,” he stuttered as his rhythm turned sloppy, shuddering when he finally came. Sheathing himself deep withing your heat, he fed ropes of translucent white into your womb while attempting to keep his eyes on you, long eyelashes fluttering while ecstasy flowed through his body. “Felt so good, I couldn’t…” he paused to lower his head, interrupted by a string of airy moans as the last, weak spurts of cum emptied out of his twitching cock. “I couldn’t help it,” he muttered.

The reassurance died on your tongue when the sensitive cock drew out halfway, only to slam back into you as though the arms bracketing your head didn’t continue to tremble with the continuing effects of his orgasm. Lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, he lowered his hand back down to play with your cunt, dipping down to feel around your stretched hole and back up to circle your clit with the slick he’d collected, a silent promise of “I’ll be good” glimmering in his lidded eyes while he watched you fall apart under his touch.

And he was, so good.

You tumbled over the edge unexpectedly, cockhead pounding into your cunt while he rolled your clit underneath his fingertips until your features contorted gracefully, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids as you shut them and tilted your head back to welcome a stupefying orgasm. You tensed for a moment, then began spasming uncontrollably in his arms, hips simultaneously jerking towards and away from his touch as he guided you through your high, languidly gliding his cock along your dripping, clenching walls, both hands now gripping the soft flesh of your hips.

And when the stimulation sent pangs of pain up your body, a whispered repetition of his name paired with limp tugs at his wrist finally broke Seokmin away from you and the bewitching melody he drew out of the perfect circle shaping your mouth. He slid his softening cock out of your heat to allow thick dollops of pearly cum to stream out of your pussy, watching as your hole clenched uselessly until your abashed whine dragged him out of his thoughts.

You found yourself tucked in under layers of thick blankets while running water sounded in the bathroom, bare feet padding over the floorboards until Seokmin—with his boxers on backwards—reached under the covers to blindly drag a warm washcloth over your skin, hoping it would catch all the sweat and cum without having to expose you to the chill air. You drew your lips into a straight line to avoid laughing at the concentration furrowing his eyebrows, cheeks flushing as he washed your middle. Any other day, Seokmin would make a big deal of cleaning you up properly, but you could see the hair on his arms raising, the autumn night’s chill piercing through his skin.

He didn’t even bother with returning the rag to its place, tossing it over his shoulder to dive under the cosy blankets with you, limbs tangling as soon as he made it there—arms circling your tired frame and legs pushing between and over yours. The momentary frigidity dissipating, his body heat seeped into your very being, and you inhaled the fresh scent of laundry mixed in with remaining hints of his cologne. Nuzzling the pointy tip of his nose into your hair, he planted a kiss onto your crown, the gesture faint as his steady heartbeat lulled you to much-needed slumber, the serene trip to dreamland occupied with solacing thoughts about a forever home within Seokmin’s tender embrace.

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byuljoonie · 1 year ago

Text

moonlight // knj

I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…

word count: 5k+ (sorry)

warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism

summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)

note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)

My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.

I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.

Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.

I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.

I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.

“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.

“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.

“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.

“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.

“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.

I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.

“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.

As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.

Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.

I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.

His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.

I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.

I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.

Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.

Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)

Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…

Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.

I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.

Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*

Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe

Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.

Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.

I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.

“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.

I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.

I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.

“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.

“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.

I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.

“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.

“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.

We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.

Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.

Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.

Me: I think I fucked up lol

Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)

Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.

“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.

I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.

I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.

Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.

I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.

We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.

“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.

“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.

“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.

My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.

I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.

“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.

Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.

“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.

“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.

He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.

“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.

“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.

I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.

I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.

Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.

“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.

“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.

I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.

He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.

“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.

Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.

“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”

I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”

That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.

Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.

Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.

“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.

“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.

Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.

“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”

He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.

His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.

The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.

I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.

The end.

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darkness-and-books · 7 months ago

Text

Not Invited

Egon Spengler x fem!reader

⚠️: none

word count: 734

Egon had blanked out quite some time ago, utterly entranced by the girl in a booth at the other end of the chinese restaurant. She was sitting by herself reading a book as she waited for her food to arrive. He had seen her smile brightly as the waiter came to take her order, and that smile was breathtaking.

“Dude, what are you staring at? It’s been five minutes,” Ray asked, snapping Egon out of his trance, “Uh, what?” Egon asked, tinting pink at having been caught. Peter followed Egon’s gaze to the girl and smirked. “Not a what, a who,” He teased, Peter and Ray exchanged a knowing look.

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking,” Egon rushed to explain, “Yeah, I’d be thinking about her too, she’s real pretty,” Winston said as he glanced over to the girl who was now getting her food. “You should go talk to her,” Peter encouraged him, “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Winston tacked onto Peter’s statement.

“She could hear me,” Egon muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Okay,” Peter said in what seemed to be a surrender. Everyone at the table sat in shocked silence for a minute at how quickly Peter dropped it.

Peter excused himself to use the bathroom before standing up and leaving the table. What no one at the table knew was that he was actually making a beeline for the girl in the booth. On his way over he stopped a waiter, “Hey could you tell the people at that table that there’s a call for Winston and Ray?” he requested and the waiter nodded curtly and made his way to their table. He continued on his way.

“Hello,” Peter greeted the girl kindly, “I’m Peter,” he introduced himself. She looked up from her book, “Oh, hi, I’m Y/N,” She replied quietly. Peter looked over his shoulder to see Egon alone at the table, “I was wondering,” He started, pointing in Egon’s direction, “You see my friend over there?” He asked her, “Well yes,” She said skeptically. “He thinks you’re really pretty and I was wondering if you’d like to switch seats with me and sit with him,” Peter explained in a hushed tone.

Y/N looked up at Peter with a raised eyebrow, “There are other people around, it’s not like I’m asking you to the back alley,” He pleaded with her. She seemed convinced by this reasoning, “Okay,” Y/N agreed and picked up her plate, “Thanks, you won’t regret it,” Peter assured her, “That remains to be seen,” she said before leaving the table.

Y/N walked nervously to Peter’s friend, who upon further inspection, was really quite handsome. “Hi,” Y/N greeted as she came to a stop in front of him. Egon’s eyes widened and looked as though they might actually fall out of his head, “Erm, hello,” he managed, looking around to see that she indeed had to be talking to him.

“I’m Y/N,” She said as she put down her plate and sat across from Egon in the booth. “Hello Y/N, I’m Dr. Egon Spengler,” He said, putting out his hand for a handshake and feeling like an idiot in the process. It’s not like this some formal event, why couldn’t he just be normal? He asked himself.

“Oh, a Doctor, fancy that,” Y/N said with a giggle, “Glad you think so,” Egon smiled and began looking for a waiter. As one walked by, he gestured him over to the table, “May I have a glass of water and whatever she has?” Egon asked the waiter, who briefly looked at Y/N’s dish before scribbling it on his notepad and walking away.

Ray and Winston walked back out to see that their place at the table had been taken by the girl Egon had been eyeing just a few minutes before. “Good for him,” Ray muttered while Winston looked for Peter. Peter was waving them over to the table where the girl had been sitting when they left.

“This,” Winston started, pointing at the table where Egon and the girl sat, “Was your doing, wasn’t it?” Winston accused more than he asked. “Of course,” Peter said, smiling proudly as he sat up a little straighter. “Go on have a seat, I have a feeling we aren’t invited to dinner,” He commented cooly as he opened up a menu.

#ghostbusters #egon spengler #egon spengler x reader

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tuliptired · 3 months ago

Note

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!”

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either.

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.”

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.”

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant.

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art.

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging. It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that.

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one.

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?”

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong- was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?”

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.”

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?”

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.”

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-”

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?”

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.”

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1989 #ghostbusters 1984 #egon spengler #egon spengler/reader #egon spengler x reader #egon/reader #egon x reader #oneshot #fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3 link #ask box #open requests

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loonmartell · 7 months ago

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✽ Ruby mound ✽

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary : A snapshot of a moment of peace in the park with Frankie.

Rating : T (just kissing in here, I had fun with it though hehe).

Word count : 1,154

Warnings : Established relationship, fluff, kissing, fluff, naps in a park, did I mention fluff?

A/N : Hiya there! So I found the picture in the center of my moodboard on Pinterest and naturally i went “FRANKIE!”, then twelve hours later I couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote this! Also, this is my first time sharing anything I’ve ever written so just know that I’m very nervous but I’m open to all kinds of criticism as long as it’s not rude, or else I 150% WILL cry.

You felt the sweet spring breeze flowing against your skin.

Infused with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh, bright, green grass; the draught sends goosebumps rising in your arms.

The sound of leaves rustling and dancing to the rhythm of the air reached your ears and as you raised your head to look up at them. You find the rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches of the tree you settled under the shadows of.

You looked back down at your lap, the soft snores of your Frankie grounding you to safety and calmness. And the feel of his soft, brown locks between your fingers giving you a sense of serenity and peace.

With a particularly strong gust of wind, a beautiful Ruby mound drifted through the air to fall next to you.

You stretch your arms a little uncomfortably to reach for the discarded flower without disturbing Frankie’s catnap.

You brought the flower closer to your face to inspect it, the long petals vibrant with a ruby red colour, and they twirl in response to you twisting the stem between your fingers.

You glanced back down at your boyfriend, the tension lines on his face vanishing with no trace. The steady cadence of his chest rising and falling with his breath making your heart swoon.

As you gaze upon his peaceful, vulnerable form, you feel a strong wave of affection and warmth stirring deep inside you.

You love him so deeply.

You love him with an overwhelming intensity that makes your heart almost burst with it.

And you know he feels the same way about you.

In the way he looks at you with an adoring gaze that makes you feel like you’re the only person that matters in a room full of people.

In the way he ever so gently brushes your hair to tuck the escaping strands behind your ear, just to place his hand in the nape of your neck to tenderly place a kiss on your forehead that lingers further than a casual kiss would.

In the way he never misses a chance to have you in his arms. Whether it’s a lazy movie night where he doesn’t watch the movie because he can’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face in your chest, feeling your soft skin against his cheek. Or if it’s a fancy night out where he’ll keep a hand on you at all times because it grounds him when he gets a strong surge of emotions on date nights.

You both know that this is it for you.

You are each other’s present, future and eternity.

Looking lovingly at him, you gently insert the Ruby mound behind his ear. His thick hair masking the stem and making the flower appear as if it’s magically grown from his curls.

You smiled at the beautiful sight. Thinking about the similarities between the flower and your Frankie.

The Ruby mound endured the wind that plucked it from its own home, travelled an unknown distance until it found its way to you. Yet it never lost the delicacy and fragility that it possessed. Indicating the resilience that never wavered in the face of adversities.

Despite the atrocities he faced in his years of serving. Your Frankie still preserves his genuine features.

His compassion is evident when he comforts you after a long stressful day, listening attentively to your concerns while he draws shapes on the shins of your sprawled legs on his lap.

You're always left at awe at his thoughtfulness when he shows up at your work with your favourite food during his lunch break. Because he knows you were running late that morning and you didn’t get to have breakfast.

You’d think after three years of this constant, unwavering care you’d get used to it. But in all honesty, you’re enamoured with everything that Frankie does. And you think you’ll continue to do so for the longest time.

As much as you dread extracting Frankie from his cocoon of tranquillity, by now the sun is about to set and this moment of serenity has to come to an end like it was bound to. And you have to wake him up.

You slowly run your hand on his scruff, feeling the rough texture under your fingertip.

He hums softly in his sleep when he feels your touch back on him again.

“Frankie?” You whisper gently to not startle him.

When he doesn’t even stir, you lower your head enough to kiss his temple, calling his name again.

When that doesn’t work either, you pepper feather light kisses all over his face. Making sure to cover his eyelids, nose and chin.

His lips quirk up at the corners as he begins to wake up. You don’t stop landing the kisses until he starts to chuckle and his hands raise to your chin to guide your lips to his where you kiss him as tender as you can in that awkward angle.

When you pull away, he opens his eyes with a groggy smile; “Hi”.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” You said through your smile while still caressing his scruff “how do you feel?”

“Like I’m in a dream with an angel above my head” he rasped while leaning into your touch.

“Mmm, such a flatterer” you playfully pinched his cheek, earning a chuckle from him “do you want to take a stroll before we lose light?”

He sat up and stretched his arms above his head. And turned to look at you when you started giggling to yourself.

“What?” He said with a quizzical smile on his handsome face “what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you just look so pretty like this” you said with an adoring gaze.

“Like what?” He turned to face you entirely.

You wordlessly picked up your phone, opened your camera app and pinched his chin to turn his head to the side. You took a picture of the Ruby mound tucked into his hair and showed it to him.

He chuckled as realisation dawned on him “yeah you’re right, it suits me”

“You look like a charming flower prince!” You said excitedly.

“Does that make you my gorgeous flower princess?” He said with a wink.

“Hmm I suppose it would” you said slyly, your gaze flitting down to his lips.

He leaned closer to you and placed his hand on your jaw “you definitely are” he whispered against your lips before your lips melted against each other with an intimate rhythm that sent a rush of warmth coursing through your bodies.

As you walked with your hands clasped together under the pink and orange hues of the sunset, you were sure that you’re not afraid of the uncertainties of the future anymore. You found solace and strength in your Frankie and you couldn’t ask for more than that.

Your charming flower prince that you will cherish always and forever.

A/N : If you stuck around until you reached me here; THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH & you made my day <33 please share your thoughts with me here or on Twitter (X 🙄) @/Loon_martell 🤍.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x ofc #frankie x reader #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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television-overload · 1 month ago

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of our own making: beginnings

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 2/2 - candlelit restaurant

[Read on AO3]

A/N: Hopefully this fills in some of the blanks for you that were left by me skipping to the epilogue in ooom after they finally got together. No more slow burn this time! Your patience has been rewarded! I have a feeling this won't be the last time I write in this universe...

Mulder blinks awake, a ray of sunlight hitting him right in the eyes from the gap in Scully's blinds. It takes a second for him to adjust to his surroundings, the unfamiliar sheets and warm body beside him still new and exciting. His arm tingles from loss of feeling, trapped beneath her head. The last time they'd awoken to Madeline's cries, she'd slipped right back into his embrace after tending to her, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

How had it taken them so long to get to this point?

Breathing in a sigh of contentment, he allows himself a moment longer with her, curling his arm around her middle and filling his lungs with her scent. He parts the soft, coppery strands of hair covering the back of her neck and presses a kiss there, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against her head.

He's so unbelievably lucky. If only his younger self could see how everything would turn out.

It takes all his strength to drag himself away from her, but he wants to get a head start on the day while Maddie is still asleep, so he carefully extracts his arm and presses one more tender kiss to her head before heaving himself off the bed. The shirt he’d discarded the night before had been claimed by Scully the first time Maddie woke them, so instead, he heads to his room, digging around in his drawers for a suitable alternative.

In the mirror in the bathroom, he catches sight of his own reflection, and he stops for a minute to inspect it. For the first time, he’s actually seeing himself as a father, as the man that Scully loves. It's somehow revelatory, a groundbreaking discovery. True happiness visibly changes a person, and he sees it in himself, for probably the first time in his adult life. He likes it.

Before heading into the kitchen, he pokes his head back into Scully’s room to check that both his girls are still asleep. Scully has rolled into the divot he left on his side of the bed, and his pillow serves as his stand-in, wrapped tightly in her arms. His heart squeezes with affection. Despite every inclination telling him to go back and claim his space next to her, he shuts the door with a soft click, making his way to the kitchen.

The fridge, filled to the brim thanks to Margaret Scully and her church friends, contains plenty of food to get him started on breakfast. Bacon and eggs is easy enough, and since being domesticated by Scully several months ago, he's picked up a thing or two. He might even be able to put together a nice mixture of fruit for them to enjoy, something healthy she might appreciate. He has no delusions that the energy to make such an effort in the mornings will continue in the coming days, but today he is ready and willing.

After all, there's something else he really wants to do today.

Just as he's putting the final touches on their meal, he hears the whimpers of their daughter, and the sound of Scully stirring in the bedroom. Perfect timing. He sets the skillet aside, turning off the burner before making his way over there. He knocks lightly on the door before pushing it open.

“Morning!” he says, smiling to himself at the sight of her messy hair.

“I wondered where you went,” she replies, in the process of lifting Maddie from her bassinet and carrying her to the changing table. She sniffs once in the air, her eyes meeting his with curiosity. “Did you make breakfast?” she asks.

“I did, it’s all ready when you are,” he answers, drawing a beautiful smile from her. “I can get her changed if you want to go on out there.

Her brows furrow. “Are you sure? You've already–”

“Hey,” he stops her. “I can do it. You get ready for the day and I'll meet you out there, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, smiling softly.

He walks toward her to collect Maddie, pausing to give her a quick kiss before taking the baby into his arms.

“I love you,” he says, the relief at being able to freely say those words feeling like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

And to his delight, she says it back. “I love you too.”

-.-.-

He feels ridiculous, asking his own wife out on a date, but he loves her so much, he does it anyway. It's going to sound silly no matter what he does, he thinks, so he decides to really commit to it, and writes out:

Will u go out with me? □ yes / □ no

on a scrap of paper, and slips it to her across the table at breakfast.

A grin lights up her face, which she attempts to conceal with her hand, and she shifts Madeline into her other arm so she can pick up the pen and check the box for “yes.”

Mulder feels a burst of giddiness from his head to his toes.

Tomorrow?

he writes, passing the paper back to her again. He watches as she scrawls in her neat little handwriting:

Where?

-.-.-

When Maggie arrives the following night, it’s to find them both dressed to the nines, her daughter putting the finishing touches on her hair while Mulder takes care of Madeline’s diaper in the other room.

She had been delighted to receive their call. After the unpleasant conversation she'd had on the phone with her eldest son, she had worried about them, wanting to check up on them, but unsure if Dana would appreciate the prying. She decided to give it a few days, and maybe stop by to offer her services however she may be useful if there are no objections.

To her surprise, her services are requested before she can even offer. Babysitting. Just for a few hours, they say. She hardly dares to consider the possibilities.

But seeing the two of them, looking as polished as ever, sets her heart ablaze with hope. She drops her purse onto the kitchen table, hurrying across the room to the bathroom where Dana is attempting to set a curl so that it lays just right on her head.

“Dana?” she asks, eyes wide as she tries to silently convey every question that has passed through her mind in the last few minutes.

“Mom! Thank you so much for coming.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” she says.

She feels restless. Jittery. Her hands, she doesn't know what to do with her hands. It would be imprudent to ask, but she has to know.

“So… you're all dressed up,” she notes. “Is it a… court date? Something to do with the adoption?”

She doesn't think so. Or rather, she hopes that it's something else.

“A court date?” Dana laughs, looking at her incredulously. “At this time of night? No, it's just a date date.”

Maggie releases a gasp of air, immediately enveloping her daughter in a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, thank the Lord!” she cries, grinning from ear to ear, powerless to stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Mom, you’ll wrinkle my dress,” Dana complains half-heartedly, though she smiles on in amusement.

“Oh…” Maggie says with a sniffle, wiping her eyes and pulling back just a little. “Honey, he'd love you even if you wore a plastic trash bag,” she assures her.

“Yeah, but I just spent fifteen minutes ironing this,” Dana replies, unable to hide her brilliant smile. Not for a minute does she bother to deny that Fox Mulder loves her. Not even for a second. Maggie could collapse in relief, to see her daughter so at ease. So openly in love.

She hugs her again, headless of the carefully ironed dress.

“I’m so happy,” she says, cupping Dana’s cheek with her hand. “So happy for you. Oh, Dana!”

Dana chuckles, taking her mother’s hands and stepping backwards out of the bathroom. “Madeline’s bottles are in the fridge,” she says, her eyes practically shining with elation.

“Right, yes,” Maggie says, soberly remembering why she's here. But it's hard to pull back on the restraints of her pure joy at finding all her prayers finally answered. You can't put a dimmer on that amount of happiness.

“You have mine and Mulder's phone numbers,” Dana adds. “Try to put her to bed at about 8:00, I'm hoping to get her on a schedule.”

“Of course.” She'd expect nothing less from her pragmatic daughter.

No sooner does Fox step an unsuspecting foot in the living room than he's overrun by his mother-in-law, pulled into her tight embrace. With the baby cradled in his arms, he's powerless against her, looking up at Dana in surprise as he endures the shower of kisses she bestows on his cheek.

“I knew you could do it,” Maggie says, fondly patting him on the cheek and gazing up at him with pride. “You have told her, haven't you?”

“I've actually got Bill to thank for that,” he jokes, and Maggie huffs.

“Oh, that boy. I've given him a piece of my mind. He won't bother you again.”

He had better not. She and Bill Senior had raised him better than that. She was horrified by his appalling behavior.

“Mom,” Dana interrupts, fastening an earring in place as she walks over to give her a parting kiss on the cheek. “We've got to head out. We have reservations.”

“Of course!” Maggie answers. Fox goes to hand her the baby, but she waves him away. “Oh, put her down for a minute and let me take a picture of the two of you! Where is your camera?”

“Mom…” Dana whines, and is that a hint of pink she detects on her cheeks?

Fox, for his part, obeys, chuckling all the while. “Oh, come on, Scully,” he says as he hands the camera to Maggie. “Don't you want a memento of the night the handsome Fox Mulder took you to prom?”

She rolls her eyes, even as she finds herself being wrapped in his arms, her back pulled against his chest.

“We're going out for dinner and drinks, Mulder,” she says, raising a doubtful eyebrow. But when he nuzzles her neck with his nose, she can't help the brilliant smile that blooms on her face, overshadowing any embarrassment she might feel in front of her mother.

Maggie snaps a few photos, grinning like a mad woman at the happy sight before her.

“Okay, really, that's enough,” Dana giggles, turning in Fox’s arms and pushing him away. “Mom, thank you for watching Madeline. You'll call us if you have any trouble?”

“Of course! Though I have raised four children, sweetheart, I think I know what I'm doing.”

“But–”

“Oookay, Scully, let's get out of here,” Fox says, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder before she can argue any further. He grabs her jacket and holds it out to her, helping her into the sleeves. “Thanks again, Margaret,” he says.

“Anytime! I'm happy to be of use!”

Fox lifts Maddie from where he'd laid her down, holding her against his chest and bouncing her gently. She stares up at him with big bright eyes, and he angles his neck down to press a kiss to her fuzzy little head.

“Bye, my sweetheart,” he says. “We’ll see you in a little bit.”

After adjusting her hair to the outside of her collar, Scully joins him and says her own goodbyes. Maggie catches the forlorn look on her face that every mother has when leaving their child for the first time. She remembers the feeling well.

“Get out of here, you two,” Maggie urges good-naturedly, taking the baby into her arms. “Stay out as long as you’d like, we’ll be just fine here.”

With one last doubtful glance backwards, Dana is guided by her partner’s hands on her shoulders out the door as he whispers words of encouragement. Maggie can't help but smile as she watches them. Her daughter is in good hands.

-.-.-

“It's weird, isn't it?” Scully asks, sitting across from Mulder in a candlelit restaurant.

“What, this?” His eyes scan their surroundings. Fancier than their usual digs, sure, but not particularly odd.

He takes a sip of the white wine he’d ordered for them, something far more expensive than his usual tastes, but worth it for the occasion. She's not getting cold feet at this point in their relationship, is she? It's a little too late to back out now.

“Are you about to break my heart, Scully?” he asks, chuckling to hide the twinge of nervousness.

“No,” she assures him with a small smile, plucking another bite of her breadstick off and popping it into her mouth. “No, I meant being away from Madeline. It's weird. She hasn't even been with us a week, and it already feels like…”

“Like there's a person missing from our party, yeah,” he finishes for her, knowing exactly what she means. “I guess it is kind of weird. It was just me and you for so long, you'd think it would feel like it always has.”

“I guess a lot has changed.”

He smiles, tapping his foot against hers under the table. “I guess it has.”

But at the same time, there are plenty of things that stay the same. Mulder performs a magic trick, making his spoon disappear from beneath his napkin, to the embarrassment of Scully, who enjoys his antics more than she lets on. When they get bored waiting for their main course to be served, he scoots his chair over to make room on his side of the table so they can whisper outrageous made-up stories about their fellow restaurant-goers to each other. The couple in the corner, she decides, are rival investment bankers for high profile clients. Their love affair would jeopardize both their companies, but they're powerless to stay away. Mulder says their waiter is actually three guinea pigs in a tuxedo, that's why their food is taking so long.

There's no shortage of laughter, despite the prim and proper atmosphere of the restaurant. They get more than a few concerned looks, but they're used to those by now. He does, however, attempt to stifle her giggles after a particularly loud snort erupts from her, holding her face against his shoulder to shush her while carefully steeling his own features. Something she'd said had caused water to spill from his nose, and she'd been laughing at his expense ever since.

“Real mature, Scully,” he says, his fingers tangling in her hair as his shoulder muffles the sound of her laughter. “I think that's enough wine for you.”

After a moment or two more, her shoulders stop shaking and all that's left is the most brilliant smile he's ever seen. She turns her head sideways, resting her cheek on his shoulder and releasing a contented sigh.

The waiter brings them the bill. He doesn't even look at the price total before slipping his credit card into the folder.

Whatever he'd paid for the night was well worth it.

-.-.-

Outside the restaurant, the evening air is cool—a reminder that summer has yet to officially arrive, to keep a few sweaters handy for when a cold front blows through. His hand is warm in hers, though, and there's music playing softly from somewhere down the block. It's a perfect night.

With dinner completed, their next stop is a classy little bar a few streets over that plays the kind of jazz music that Scully likes, and Mulder barely tolerates. But this had been his idea, and she appreciates his willingness to suffer in exchange for her enjoyment. How very Mulder of him.

They come to a stop at a crosswalk, the red “stop” hand telling them to wait. Cars drive leisurely past, the hum of their engines and rumbling of their tires blending in with the whip of the wind that comes to tangle Scully's hair. Mulder beams down at her, brushing the errant strands from her face—a fruitless task until this gust blows through.

He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it again, glancing around at the passing cars, at the marquee lights from the theater across the street.

She follows his lead, standing beside him and wondering at the slow pace of life they seem to have dipped their toes into. Not every day has to be like this, of course. They'd both go crazy if it were. But this is what she'd meant by ‘getting out of the car.’ Just sometimes, to be like other people. To slow down and enjoy the world around them, the infinitesimally small moments that would otherwise pass them by. She thinks they deserve that.

The crosswalk beeps at a steady rhythm, as unhurried as they are.

“Scully, would you–” he starts, clearing his throat. He looks down at his feet, his thumb fiddling with the diamond that sits on her finger. “You know, now that your family knows, we could–”

“Aren't you supposed to be down on one knee?”

Her question leaves him completely dumbstruck, and she wishes she had a camera to capture the look on his face.

“Scully?” he rasps in confusion.

She shrugs nonchalantly, concealing a smile. “It's just, you forgot last time. You just kind of blurted it out.”

Now he knows she's teasing him. One corner of his mouth quirks upward and she sees playfulness illuminate in his eyes to match hers.

“Do you want me to hire a professional photographer for this too, or will you let me finish?” he says lowly, leaning in close and squeezing her hand.

She looks at him with a smirk, one eyebrow raised, and he kneels, right there on the sidewalk.

“Scully… my lovely wife,” he starts, gazing up at her with the pale yellow light of the street lights reflecting in his eyes. Her heart skips a few beats. “Would you like to have a big white Catholic wedding with me? Tuxedo, bridesmaids, the whole nine yards?”

She pretends to think for a moment, her eyes drifting to the heavens. Then comes her response.

“Mm—no.”

“No?” He seems appalled.

And as fun as it is to mess with him, she can’t leave him hanging for long.

“I would like to have a small wedding, though,” she says. “Just our families and closest friends.”

She can see the relief written on his face plain as day. As if she'd ever say no to marrying him again. Doesn't he know, now, how much she loves him?

She tugs on his hands and helps him to his feet, finding herself suddenly face to face with his infectious smile.

“Easiest guest list in the world,” he says. Then he lowers his lips to hers and kisses her. Across the street, the display on the crosswalk flashes with descending numbers, and they've missed their chance to go. But this side of the street is just fine, thank you very much.

“You know, technically what we're talking about here is just a vow renewal, not a wedding,” she informs him, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

He grins. “Oh, I'm well aware. You're already hitched to my wagon, honey.”

That earns him an eye roll. They're back to waiting again, this time without the other pedestrians who have left them behind. One of them probably ought to go press the button again, if they really want to cross.

“I know it was crazy, and probably stupid, looking back, but… I liked our wedding just the way it was,” Scully says. “Just you and me.”

“Me too.”

Thinking back on that day, it still doesn't feel real sometimes. Some days, the sight of the ring on her finger catches her by surprise, and the one on his fills her with a kind of primal possessiveness.

“We really did this all backwards, didn’t we?” she says.

“Definitely. Remind me to thank your brother for giving me the motivation I needed to tell you. He can come to the wedding—��

“Vow renewal.”

“—just for being the one to get our heads out of our—”

She kisses him, stealing his words from his lips. His hands find her waist, then her back, and she can't believe how right this feels. How quickly they've gone from friends to more.

Then again, maybe it wasn't so quick after all.

“Is that how you're gonna shut me up from now on?” he asks, breathing deeply to catch his breath.

She nips at his bottom lip again, then his jaw. If he needs a verbal answer after that, then she has severely overestimated his intellect

But it seems he’s catching on.

“I can live with it.”

-.-.-

In the end, they decide that drinks and jazz music can wait for another day.

“Would you be offended if I said I'd rather just go home?” Scully asks.

He gazes down at her beside him knowingly. “You miss her, don't you?”

Her lower lip juts out in an exaggerated pout. “Yes.”

“Me too.”

And so, they instead turn around and go straight back to their car, setting course toward home. Mulder can tell without even looking at her that she spends the entire car ride worrying over Madeline’s welfare, despite the fact that Margaret Scully is sure to be a more than adequate babysitter. It’s such a maternal instinct, though, that it fills Mulder with pride.

Dana Scully is many things—an enigma at times—but on top of all that, she is now a mother. It only makes him love her more.

Back in the hallway of their apartment building, he stops her in front of their door before she can open it. If this is their first real date, then he wants to close it out properly.

“I had a really nice time,” he says, and though it’s a joke, he means it sincerely.

Her doubtful eyebrow arches toward the ceiling, as predictable as Old Faithful. “Really, Mulder?” she asks, looking at him in that way he knows means ‘I think you’re a dork.’

“Did you have a nice time?” He makes it clear he’s expecting an answer, leaning in close to draw it from her.

The corners of her mouth twitch, and thanks to his expert knowledge of Scully’s many microexpressions, he knows she’s amused.

“Yes, I did, Mulder.”

He grins and pokes her in the arm. “Now say the next part.”

This time she rolls her eyes at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I was given a script.”

He playfully pinches her sides, pulling her closer. “Oh come on, you know the words…”

She sighs, looking up at him with the smallest of smiles gracing her face. “We should do this again sometime?”

There it is.

“Yes, we should,” he agrees. Then all there is to do is seal the deal with a kiss. He takes it slow, chuckling a little at how silly it all seems. He hasn’t kissed a girl on her doorstep after a date (with the girl's mother waiting just inside) since he was in high school. What he hadn’t expected was that he would feel the same rush of exhilaration as he did back then.

“Mulder,” she says between kisses.

He hums, his brain only barely capable of comprehending language.

Pouty Scully is back. “I miss my baby.”

Oh. Right.

Behind her back, he manages to slip his keys in the lock, and she shoots him a thankful smile as he turns the doorknob. She breaks from him just in time for him to crack open the door.

“You’re back early,” Maggie comments as they enter, looking up from the book she’d been reading while waiting for them on the couch. In the kitchen, freshly cleaned baby bottles are stacked on a drying rack beside the sink, and the place is spotless. For as little time as they’d been gone, her mother had obviously gotten a lot done, proving once again what a master at her craft she was. They still have a lot to learn.

“Mulder missed Maddie,” Scully says in explanation.

“Hey, so did you!” he defends himself. Maggie merely shakes her head and smiles, clearly entertained by their playful bickering.

Scully sets her purse aside, then starts removing her coat. “Did she do okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed in thinly-veiled worry.

“She was a perfect angel,” Maggie answers. “Only one dirty diaper, and she finished her whole bottle. She did fall asleep a little early, so she might be waking up again soon for another feeding.”

Mulder can see the relief as it eases the tension in Scully’s shoulders. He takes her coat from her, hanging it on the coat rack behind him along with his.

“Okay, that’s great, Mom,” she says. “Thank you so much for watching her.”

“Anytime, dear. She’s just the sweetest baby. If you ever need me to babysit overnight, am I correct in assuming you now have a spare room for guests?”

“Mom!” Scully blushes.

“Actually, we were just talking about turning it into Maddie’s nursery,” Mulder says, wrapping an arm around Scully’s waist and pulling her into his side. To his delight, he succeeds at getting her to turn an even deeper shade of red.

Maggie scoffs in amusement at her daughter’s uncharacteristic bashfulness. “You are married , Dana. I’d be surprised and disappointed if you weren’t—”

Scully hurries to gather her mother’s things, ushering her to the door. “Okay, I think we’ve kept you for long enough, Mom, thanks for coming. You’d better get on home.”

“We’ll call you,” Mulder adds with a cheeky smile, earning him a smack on the shoulder by an indignant Scully.

“You’d better,” Maggie threatens teasingly. “I trust you had a good night? Fox, I must say, that shade of lipstick suits you very nicely.”

Scully groans. “Bye, Mom,” she says insistently, practically shooing Maggie out the door. She’s reached a level of red-in-the-face that Mulder previously thought impossible to attain, and it just makes him want to squish her cheeks and tell her how adorable she is.

“Love you too, Maggie,” Mulder says for them both, his heart almost bursting with joy at really being a part of a family again. This is what he’d been looking for for so long. Who would have guessed he’d find it with his FBI partner and her stalwart Catholic mother?

“Goodnight, Dana. Goodnight, Fox,” Maggie says, stepping out into the hall. “I love you both.

And that sweet girl of yours.”

Scully sighs. “Love you, Mom. Goodnight.”

-.-.-

“I was thinking about what your mom said earlier,” he whispers in the darkness, his arm wrapped around her waist underneath the covers of their bed. She turns her head to glance back at him.

“Mulder, we do not need her to babysit overnight,” she says. “I don't want to be away from Maddie that long.”

He breathes a laugh. “I know. That's not what I was going to say, actually.”

Her brows furrow, and the sheets rustle as she turns over to look at him properly. His hand slides over her silk-clad torso, and he rubs his thumb over her side in soothing circles as she settles.

“Oh. Then what is it?” she asks.

He hums thoughtfully. “I was thinking, it would be nice to have space for guests, and a nursery for Madeline.”

Again, he finds confusion written on her face. “Well, there are only two rooms in this apartment, Mulder, so I'm not sure where you think we're gonna—”

“What about a house?”

That silences her.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Come on, what do you say?”

“I–” She's not sure what to say. “I don't know.”

“If we lived somewhere bigger, I'd have less reason to say no to a dog,” he offers temptingly.

Her eyebrows raise. “You want to get a dog?”

“I didn't say that,” he answers, laughing softly. “I said I wouldn't have as much of an argument against it. There's a difference.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Mulder?” she asks jokingly, her own smile pulling at her lips.

“I'm right here, honey,” he says, wagging his eyebrows at her and digging his fingers into her sides. Then, turning serious again, “It's not that I’m against dogs. It was just your yappy cannibal dog, specifically.”

“It's not a cannibal if the thing it eats isn't of its own species,” she corrects. “Dogs are animals. It did what it needed to survive.”

“Stop, stop, you’re gonna give me nightmares,” he says, covering her mouth with his hand. “You're not helping your case, you know.”

She smiles and brushes his hair back. He's noticed she has a thing for his hair. She can't seem to keep her hands off even during idle conversation.

“Hey, you brought it up,” she points out. “A house, though, Mulder? Are you sure?”

“Why not? I've told you before that I'd live away from the city if I could. Wouldn't you?”

She smiles and closes her eyes, humming. “It does sound nice,” she admits.

“Well then, let's look. Let’s just see what's out there.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “I want it to have a porch.”

“Oh, that's a must,” he says, nodding seriously. “And a couple acres of land, at least.”

“What are we going to do with several acres, Mulder?”

“Start a garden, put in a pool? Maybe build an underground bunker for doomsday prepping?”

“Can I veto that last one?” she asks.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

She grumbles even as he pulls her to his chest, snuggling her close.

While in some ways, the birth and adoption of their daughter felt like an end to their long and fraught journey, he hopes it's clear now that it's just the beginning. Their lives will look a little different from here on out, but there is so much more to come. A house, a real wedding. Maybe even a dog.

Oh, who is he kidding? Of course they're getting a dog.

“Dana?” he murmurs into her hair. Already her body has relaxed in his arms, and he knows she's moments away from falling asleep, his adorable little narcoleptic wife.

“Mm—what?”

“I love you.”

He can feel her smile against his chest, and she snuggles in closer.

“Oh brother.”

He knows that means, ‘I love you too.’

-.-.-

Tag List: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @is-on-its-way @limnsaber @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @pookie-mulder @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic

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jellyfishcake · 6 months ago

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Mae x F°reader

Mae wanted to show you something she found well looking for food. As she helps you get on her horse "Your going to love what I found [Y/n]" as she starts to talk about how amazing it was when she found this but she was taking you at night time.

After she was done talking silence took over a soft silence all you can hear is the horse feet "clip-clop" it was satisfying to hear.

After a while you hear more "clip-clop" behind you guys. You turn around to see Noa, Soona, and Anaya on their horses Mae stops the horse and turns it around to them. "What are you doing?" Mae asks "We wanted to see what you found out their" Noa says back as he stops his horse making a gap between you guys. "Anaya wants to see too" as he talks while signing Soona didn't have to speak because she wanted to do the exact same thing as them.

Mae looks at you for your permission you nod.

"You can come" as she turns the horse around to continue on to their destination. Many buildings come in view some tall, big, small, and short they were all taken over by mother nature over the years as apes take over the world and humans become less seen.

"Their it is [Y/n]" she points to a building with a sign saying 'Music store' you knew what music was your dad would sing to you some small lyrics when you were feeling down. It was a beautiful thing humans made when they were dominant in the world. Mae gets off the horse as she does her hand was out for you to take when you got down so you took it. She pulls your hand gently towards her when walking soon after the trio behind you starts to follow closely. As you guys walk through the building you see vinyl on the floor some still on the shelf they look to be in good condition still.

"Stay here let me get it" as she walks away to go in another room.

Noa picks up a vinyl off the floor and inspect it with Soona on his side while Anaya looks around the room. You on the other hand look in front of you to see the middle has a widow on top the floor looks empty with nothing on it except dirt and leaves.

You jump when the lights turns on "[Y/n] you ready" as Mae comes back with a record player and plugs it in an outlet. Her left arms holds a vinyl she takes out the vinyl and puts it in the slot she places the tone arm on the spinning vinyl.

Music comes out you look her with wide eye's she has a soft smile on her face.

"Take my hand [Y/n]"

You take it and she pulls you in.

"Come on Eileen"

Her left hand goes on your waist as your hand goes on her shoulder and your extra hands intertwine together.

"Poor old Johnnie Ray"

You guys spin as she takes a step back two times well you follow her step towards her.

"Sounded sad upon the radio moved a million hearts in Mono"

You take a step backwards Mae pulls you out and pulls you right back in as she spins you around her hand.

"Our mothers cried"

Your back was to her as your left arm was stretched out with hers. Mae right arm was around your waist spinning while taking small steps as you guys go.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

Noa was confused of what you guys were doing plus he had some many questions to asks.

"What do you think their doing" Soona said looking at Noa "I don't know" Noa said back. "Anaya is confused" He talked while signing "Plus what's that sound coming from" Soona looked at it with curiosity from a far Noa walked slowly towards it "They have a pretty voice" Noa heard Anaya said behind him.

All three of them surrounded the box.

Their was something spinning inside of it they hear the voice but doesn't know where it's coming from.

Umm I'll finish this tomorrow. But I'm working on some requests 😈 writing this because it been on my mind for awhile. But I'm working on requests right now I'm locked in writing them.

#Spotify #x reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #mae x reader #planet of the apes x reader

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optimaweightech · 2 years ago

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How does a food inspection X-Ray machine work?

Machines using x-ray for food inspection scan food products and detect any foreign objects or contaminants that may be inside. The X-rays pass through the food, creating a digital image that can be analysed by the machine's software to identify and flag any potential issues. The machine can also be programmed to automatically reject contaminated products, ensuring that only safe food items reach the consumer. The level of radiation used in these machines is typically low and safe for both the food and the operator.

Key Features of Food X-Ray Machines

A machine using x-ray for food inspection typically has the following features:

● High sensitivity to detect contaminants such as metal, stone, bone, glass, and plastic

● Ability to inspect packaged or bulk products

● Real-time inspection capabilities

● Ability to differentiate between food and foreign objects

● User-friendly interface with visualisation tools

● Customizable settings for different food products and packaging

● Compliance with food safety regulations and standards

● Robust design for industrial use

● Automatic reject mechanisms for contaminated products

● Data storage and reporting capabilities for quality control and traceability.

Use of Load Cell in Food X-ray Machine

Load cells are used in x-ray for food inspection to measure the weight of the food products being inspected. This information is then used to calculate the density of the food, which can be used to identify the presence of contaminants such as metal, bone, or plastic. It helps ensure that the x-ray machine is functioning correctly and that the results of the inspection are accurate.

Additionally, the load cell can be used to track the weight of the food products over time, providing information on trends and patterns that may indicate problems with the production process or the presence of contaminants. The load cell is an important component of a food x-ray machine, as it helps to ensure that the food products being inspected are safe for consumption. Hence, we recommend buying load cells in Australia from the best manufacturer of industrial machines out there.

Bottle Labelling Powered by X-Ray Machines

X-ray machines for drink packaging and bottle labelling work by using X-rays to inspect the contents of sealed containers, such as drink bottles or cans, for potential contaminants, foreign objects, or fill-level issues. The X-rays penetrate the container and produce an image of the contents that can be analyzed to identify any anomalies.

Here's how it works:

● The container is placed on a conveyor belt and moves through the X-ray machine.

● X-rays are emitted from a source and pass through the container and its contents.

● The X-rays that pass through the container are captured by a detector on the other side, which generates an image of the contents.

● The image is then analysed by the machine's software to identify any potential contaminants, foreign objects, or fill-level issues.

● If any anomalies are identified, the machine can reject the container or flag it for manual inspection.

This technology is commonly used in the food and beverage industry to ensure the safety and quality of packaged products before they reach consumers. Hence, it offers a high level of quality and security for your products.

If you’re looking for an exemplary machines for packaging, we recommend checking out Optima Weightech, a leading industrial machine manufacturer based in Australia. They offer the best machinery at competitive prices in Australia.

Source: https://packagingmachinesaustralia.blogspot.com/2023/02/how-does-food-inspection-x-ray-machine.html

#x-ray for food inspection #load cells #bottle labelling #machines for packaging

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n-s4kayaky · 1 year ago

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Satisfying journey Pt.2

Part 1

(Notes: Hi! I'm new to writing stories on this app. While I am familiar with writing the occasional one-shot or comic strip, it's been a while. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment and excitement. I just wanted to let you know that if there are any grammatical errors, I apologize. I'm also more than happy to hear your suggestions and feedback. For now, this is all I can share. I hope you enjoy this story)

Pairing: Buggy The Clown x F!Reader

Summary: You woke up in a dirty and damp cell after your encounter with the pirate Buggy The Clown, you didn't remember much, your whole body hurt, especially your face. You spent several hours there until you heard someone entering the cell, it was our favorite captain. He asked you several questions and, well, you didn't know if things had gone well or badly at that moment.

Warnings: Depictions of Violence and Torture, small mentions of blood, mentions of hanging, Buggy being a complete jerk and a perv, sexual tension and teasing, romance, humiliation.

Your eyes opened hazily as you looked around with your vision half-clouded. The first thing you noticed was the strong smell of humidity in the air. The room was mostly dark, illuminated only by a weak ray of sunlight coming through a small, round window. Your whole body hurt, especially your face, specifically your cheek and nose. You felt something dripping from your nose and brought your hand up to it, only to see that you were handcuffed to a chain that was attached to the bars of a cage. You took the substance that was dripping from your nose, realizing it was blood. That damn clown, his punch was so strong that it made you faint and bleed from your nose. You lightly touched it, feeling relieved that your septum wasn't broken. Once you inspected your body for any kind of injury or bruise, which fortunately you didn't have, you looked around.

You were in a kind of cell, which looked more like a lion's cage, some hay was scattered on the floor, which had tangled in your hair. You saw on the other side of the bars a pile of expanded bags and several old fabrics that looked like old ship sails, from among the sacks of unknown content you saw how several rats scurried and hid, well, you knew you wouldn't be alone in that cell, hopefully they would become your friends. You groaned, rubbing your cheek still feeling a trace of heat due to the slap Buggy gave you. Who did that guy think he was? Enslaving a poor village for his own pleasure and to receive forced applause and laughter, it made your heart shrink. And it wasn't just that he enslaved a village, but he also imprisoned you, why?! You were just looking for a new place to start a new life; but you didn't want your new life to rot in the cell of a sadistic pirate clown's ship. Although, for some reason, you couldn't stop thinking about him, his face passed fleetingly through your head, if it was true that he had attractive features; but what were you doing thinking so much about him? He had put you in a cage! Although you didn't deny that you had always had certain questionable tastes... Before ending up here, in your other village you collected "Wanted" posters and hung them on the walls of your room, it couldn't be denied that some of those pirates were attractive, especially that man you liked so much... What was his name? That swordsman... Mia.. Mih... Mihawk! Yes, that was it! You remember that every time there was a new poster you took it and kept it.

You woke up from your dream when your stomach growled, grumbling for some food. You were so hungry, the last thing you ate was a half-rotten apple. In addition to hunger, you were thirsty, your throat was dry, and no matter how much saliva you accumulated and swallowed, it didn't quench your thirst. As if someone was listening to your thoughts and especially the growling of your stomach, the door opened, letting out a loud creak. A man came out of the door, dressed in a striking way like the rest of the crew. Half of his face was covered by his hair, and the other half of his hair was shaved and had lines of different colors. A large scarf covered part of his mouth, and in his hands, he carried a tray with a glass of what looked like milk and a piece of bread. Your stomach couldn't help but growl at the sight, as little as it was at that moment, it was enough for you, you were too hungry. That man looked at you and approached the cell at a tortuously slow pace. Once in front of the cell, he crouched down and opened a small compartment where he was able to pass the tray with the glass and bread. "The Captain will come to see you in a few minutes," he said in a cold tone as he closed the small hatch through which he had given you the tray. Before you could ask him anything, that man had left through the door, giving a loud bang that made the cage vibrate under your feet.

You sighed and looked at the tray with the glass of milk and the piece of bread. Your stomach growled again and with trembling hands you took the bread. It was hard, too hard. You knew that if you put it in your mouth as it was, your teeth would break before you could take a bite. You made a face and took the glass of milk. It wasn't very big, but it wasn't very small either. You quickly remembered the knife you had in your back pocket, you stood up and searched for the small knife with hope, but it vanished when you didn't feel the knife where it should be. Those damn pirates, they must have taken it. With the little strength you had left, you took the hard bread, breaking it and making thousands of crumbs fall to the dirty floor of the cage. You took your glass of milk and took a small sip, as you thought it was plain milk, without a hint of sugar or honey to sweeten it. You took your broken bread and dipped it in the milk, making it softer. After several seconds under the milk, you took the piece and brought it to your mouth, letting out a sound of delight as you started to eat the bread soaked in milk. It seemed like the best culinary dish a chef could have prepared for you. Little by little, you finished the bread along with the milk, putting your fingers in your mouth and sucking them to take the last drops of milk that dripped from them.

Did you see how the rats from before came out of their hiding places among the sacks, timidly approaching the cage when they smelled the breadcrumbs that had been scattered, they seemed fearful, wanting to approach but backing away when they saw you. You let out a slight laugh and took a breadcrumb, carefully approaching one of the rats, it smelled the breadcrumb and with its little paws took it, bringing it to its mouth and quickly returning to the pile of bags. The other rats also approached, surrounding you, a little panicked you began to give breadcrumbs to the rats and they would run away to eat them in hiding.

Suddenly the door opened with a bang, causing the few rats that were left with you to run away in terror. You looked at the door and saw that it wasn't Buggy. He wasn't wearing his orange captain's hat, and instead had a white bandana with red stripes on his head, revealing his blue hair. He also wasn't wearing his big orange coat, which exposed a red and white striped sleeveless shirt with several belts. His biceps were clearly visible and muscular, indicating that he worked out. Your eyes carefully scanned his muscular arms, but you quickly looked away, embarrassed that you were ogling your captor. Buggy easily noticed your actions and a playful laugh escaped his red-painted lips. 'Enjoying the view, darling? I can't blame you,' he said in a playful tone as he approached you, standing in front of your cage.

Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and you let out a small groan. 'There's nothing to enjoy,' you spat defensively while glaring at the pirate. 'Darling, don't lie to me. I know I'm someone worth admiring,' he said. 'Whatever you say... What the hell do you want from me?' you muttered irritably as you saw that the man had easily read you. Buggy laughed again as he crouched down enough to be at the same height as you. 'I feed you and I don't decide to kill you, and this is how you thank me?' he said, feigning a tone of sadness as his blue orbs rested on your face. You rolled your eyes at his response. 'You've locked me up and chained me up like a damn animal,' you said furiously as you faced the clown. Buggy laughed amusedly as his eyes lingered on your face, staying for a few long seconds on your nose. He brought his hand to his mouth, taking off with his teeth the dirty white glove he had on his hands and slowly took it off, revealing his bare hand. His nails were trimmed and painted the same color as his blue hair. Without a doubt, this man cared about his perfect appearance.

You watched in amazement as he removed his glove, and then you saw him lick his thumb, moistening it with saliva. Your cheeks turned a shade redder. What was that clown planning? His bare hand approached your face, easily passing between the metal bars. Instinctively, you moved back, afraid that he would slap you again for your response. But moving away didn't help you much, as he separated his hand from his arm with those strange powers that you still didn't understand. His flying hand approached your face, and you closed your eyes, expecting the blow. But it never came. You only felt the strangely delicate touch of his saliva-moistened finger passing under your nostrils. When he removed his hand from you, you opened your eyes, bewildered, watching as he put his hand back on his body, took it out from between the bars, and looked at his thumb for a few seconds. It was stained with some dried blood that had previously dripped from your nose from the blow he had given you the day before. After observing his finger, dyed red with your blood, for several seconds, he brought it to his mouth while his eyes were fixed on you. He watched you closely, seeing your reaction as he playfully licked your blood from his finger. You remained perplexed from your position, watching his actions while your face heated up again. What the hell was he playing at? He took his finger out of his mouth with a wet "POP" and put his glove back on his hand while his eyes remained fixed on you. "Delicious," he said cheerfully.

"Good dear, I must say that you are there for two simple reasons. The first is that you caught my attention, and believe me, that's something difficult to do with me," he said as he slightly stood up from his position and began to walk around the cage while his eyes never left you. "The second..." He faced you again and suddenly a hand flew towards you, grabbing your neck firmly and forcing you to stick to the bars of the cage. "I don't know if you remember, but you ruined my show... And those who do that don't end up well, let's say... Very well," he said as his fingers pressed harder on the sides of your neck, blocking your blood pressure. "You didn't follow MY rules, you didn't applaud when I told you to, and to top it off..." His palm pressed against your trachea, making it harder for you to breathe. "You spat on me, me, the great Buggy The Clown! You humiliated me in front of MY spectators!" He said furiously as he watched with some amusement as you tried to catch your breath. "And believe me, I'm not going to forgive you just like that, simply because of your pretty face, doll," he said as he slightly loosened his grip on your neck, letting you take a breath of air before tightening it again. "Besides, as I mentioned before, you should have thanked me. I could have easily killed you and your pretty body would be at the bottom of the ocean being wasted by some hungry sharks..." A sadistic smile decorated his face as he watched your face slowly turn purple. "I think you should thank me NOW..."

You watched him as you tried to catch your breath, feeling your eyes tear up and a slight thread of saliva fall from your mouth, you opened it and whispered as loudly as you could in those moments, "T-thank you..." Buggy's smile widened as he watched your futile attempts to pronounce a word, he tightened his fingers while pressing your body even harder against the cold glass bars. "What did you say, doll? I don't think I heard you well." "T-th...Thank you!" You released with your last breath, feeling your vision blur and how you would faint again. Buggy's hand abruptly separated from your throat, allowing you to breathe again, quickly taking a deep breath, coughing in the process as you looked at the clown with teary eyes. The hand that was on your throat a few seconds ago moved towards your head, starting to caress it with some affection as he watched you from the other side of the bars with a satisfied smile. "That's how I like it... I know you can be a good girl, you just need a little push." He winked at you as he moved his hand away from you, sticking it back to his body

You gasped, still a little dizzy from the lack of air and the dizziness in your body as you watched Buggy look at you with amusement. 'Well, since you thanked me and showed me that you can be a good girl, I'm going to give you another chance, okay?' he said, watching your face and occasionally lowering his eyes to your body, causing shivers to run through it. 'I have something planned just for you, my dear. Let's put you and that spoiled mouth of yours to good use,' he said, stopping his eyes on your lips for a few seconds, then looking away and getting up, wiping the accumulated dirt off his pants. 'I'll come back for you tomorrow and show you your new function here. Don't try anything stupid or you'll regret it,' he said in a chilling tone as he began to walk towards the door, opened it, and before leaving, gave you one last look. 'Don't ruin your position as a good girl... unless you want to be punished,' he chuckled and winked at you, then left through the door, slamming it shut and leaving you once again in the darkness and dampness of your cage.

You sighed as you brought your chained hands to your neck, slowly caressing it and stopping at the spot where Buggy had pressed his fingers. You looked at the door one last time, letting out a small curse. You curled up into a ball and closed your eyes, going to sleep and waiting to see what would happen to you tomorrow.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece buggy #buggy x y/n #op #op x reader #one piece live action #buggy x female reader #x reader #opla buggy

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cloudlessly-light · 11 months ago

Note

Hello. How are you doing ?

I was wondering Can you write a fic where Hotch accidentally answers Emily’s phone early in the morning when Pen or Derek calls to say they have a case. That’s how they found out about them and then they all tease them all day. Thank you 🙂

Title: Seems you cannot be replaced (Chapter 6/7) Summary: It shouldn’t have happened, but they were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened but it felt right. It shouldn’t have happened but now it has. It shouldn’t have happened now they have to deal with it.

Or, Emily always leaves before he wakes up, but she always leaves a note. Word Count: 3,7k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, in public, dirty talk, breath play/choking mentions of bruises and cuts, mentions of violence, injury

She walks over dirt and stone, feeling the warmth of the explosion against her skin, feels her body protest as she stops to look for Spencer and Derek. The seconds before they appear feel endless, but then they’re there and she felt like she could breathe again. The hug that Spencer envelopes her in hurts, her ribs protesting, her bruised body aching, but she refuses to give in to the pain of it and hugs him back just as tightly.

When he releases her she meets Aaron’s eye and she can see the same panic on his face that she had felt during the explosion in New York, and she nods with a tight smile. He can’t wrap his arms around her like she knows he wants to, can’t kiss her, because the team doesn’t know about them yet.

When they land JJ takes her to the hospital to get checked out and Aaron has to go back to Quantico, but she can see his need, knows that he more than anything, wants to go with her. But having two agents taken hostage means too much paperwork to ignore and she knows that too.

When she comes home to her apartment it’s silent, lights off and she’s quick to rid herself of her bloody clothes. She takes a bath, washing away the grime and smell of smoke, cleans the cuts and inspects the bruising. Nothing was broken according to the x-rays, but her ribcage was bruised, her wrists were chafed. She winced as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, but she’d been through worse so with that thought in mind she grabs the bathrobe hanging on the bathroom door and makes her way downstairs.

She ignores the pain medication on the counter that the doctor had recommended and instead puts on the kettle. Just as the water starts to boil, he knocks on her door and she’s quick to open it.

“Emily.” He breathes, eyes moving over her to inspect any visible injuries and then he walks inside before she can greet him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay honey.” She realizes that he sees through the slight tightness of her smile, how her arm protects her middle and he sighs.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters as he puts the bags that he’s carrying on the counter. “I never should have sent you in there.”

“No, Aaron.” Her hand is careful when she caresses his stubbled cheek. “You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known.”

“I heard you.” His jaw clenches as he recalls the anguish of hearing her pained cries. “When Cyrus beat you. I wanted to kill him.”

“I know, JJ told me.” She said softly. “Aaron look at me.” She notices that it takes a few seconds for him to do as she asked, but when he finally does she can see the unshed tears in his eyes. “I’m okay, I promise.”

He’s so careful when he pulls her into a hug that her heart clenches from adoration for him. She wraps her arms around his middle, listens to his heartbeat as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. The tension in him slowly dissipates as they stand there, breathing each other in.

“You’re okay.” He finally whispers, like touching her, feeling her even breathing and smelling the familiar scent of her shampoo made it real.

“I am.” She pulls back and cranes her neck enough to press a kiss against his lips. “Is there any chance that there’s food in those bags? I’m starving.”

“Of course sweetheart.” He smiles, already reaching for the take-out containers.

Aaron spent the evening not letting her out of his sight. He could tell that she was in pain, no matter how adamant she was that she was fine, he refused to have her do anything besides laying on the couch until it was getting late and they headed to bed.

“It looks worse than it is.” She warns him as he sits on the edge of the bed in his boxers. When she slips the robe of her shoulder his breathing hitches, for the first time seeing the extent of her injuries.

“Emily-”

“I had the x-rays, nothing a few days of rest wont fix.” She interrupts him as she pulls a shirt she’d stolen from him from a drawer. When she pulls it on she winces at the pull on her ribs and Aaron is immediately right there, helping her.

“If he wasn’t already dead, I would have killed him.” He says and she chuckles dryly.

“Well, he’s dead and we’re here.” She takes his hand and drags him toward the bed where she slips under the covers. She doesn’t say anything, but curls into him, seeking the comfort of him and Aaron wastes no time wrapping his arm around her.

She falls asleep quicker than she normally would, body and mind exhausted after the last couple of days. Aaron stays up, watches her sleep, traces her bruised cheek and cut lip carefully. He makes sure that she’s breathing, stays awake for as long as he can before finally falling sleep too.

It can’t be more than a couple of hours later that he wakes up by a ringing phone. Bleary eyed and slightly panicked at someone calling him this early he reaches for his phone, Emily grunts as she too wakes up.

“Hello?” His voice is rough from sleep as he presses the phone to his ear.

“Hello? Who’s this?” Comes Penelope’s familiar voice through the phone.

“Garcia what do you want? Do we have a case?” He rubs his eyes as Emily slowly sits up beside him.

“Hotch?” He hears the confusion in Penelope’s voice and it only makes him more confused.

“Garcia why did you call?”

“Sir, I was calling Emily… Are you with her?”

That’s when Aaron looks at the bedside table and sees his phone laying there, and he realizes that he’s picked up the wrong phone. Emily notices it too, eyes going wide as she catches on.

“Hotch?”

“Y-yeah.” He rubs his eyes, there’s no point in lying. “Yes I’m here. Emily is too.”

“I thought JJ drove her home from the hospital.” The confusion in Penelope’s voice only became more apparent.

“She did.” He answered while Emily covered her face in her hand, a muffled sound of frustration leaving her.

“Then why are you… oh. Oh!” The second Penelope realized exactly why her boss was in her friend’s apartment Aaron laid back on the bed next to Emily. “Well. Uhm… I wanted to know how she was. But I have so many questions.”

“Garcia.” He warned and the blonde on the other end stopped what was for sure was going to be a rant. “I’ll see you at the office. Bye.”

“Bye.”

When he hung up it was silent between them until Emily started to laugh, something uncontrollable that made Aaron smile too.

“It’s not funny Em.”

“I know,” She still laughed, her hand covering her ribs as she did. “but considering every way they could find out, you have to admit this was one of the easiest ones.”

“Or the worst one, take your pick.” He can’t help but to start to laugh too. It might not have been the way they had planned to tell the team, but they both knew that Penelope knowing, meant that the whole team would know by the time they got to the office.

Emily argued her way into being allowed to go in that day, promising to sit at her desk and work through files even if a case came in. She walked out of the elevator, her bruise covered and Aaron beside her. She felt the team’s eyes on them the moment they stepped inside the bullpen and she braced herself for the questions, good and bad, that might come their way.

“Everyone in the conference room.” Aaron said loudly, wanting them away from the buzzing of the office. He sat down next to her as the rest of the team followed, sitting at the round table and still looking at them like they were some rare animal at the zoo. It’s quiet for a minute and then Aaron sighs.

“I take it you all know?” He looks at Penelope who’s sitting wide eyed across from them.

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay Pen.” Emily assures her, she’s not mad at her.

“First things first, Prentiss you’re okay?” Derek asks and she gives him a nod.

“I am, desk duty for a little while, but the doctor gave me the all clear.”

The room falls into silence once more.

“When did this happen?” JJ is the first to speak and Emily is sure she hears a hint of amusement in the blonde’s voice.

“We’ve been together for a little more than a month.” She answers and Penelope’s jaw drops.

“We didn’t plan on this, or plan on you finding out like this.” Aaron continues as his hand finds hers under the table.

“So what now?” Spencer asks as he looks between them. “What does this mean for the team?”

“Nothing.” Emily says as she squeezes his hand a little tighter. “We’ll work like we have, we realize that it’s an adjustment to you as well, but nothing will change.”

“We’ve been together and you didn’t notice, it will continue like it has.” Aaron finishes for her and she sees the looks of doubt on her friend’s faces.

“This isn’t some fling. If that’s what you’re thinking.” Her voice carries an edge to it, something she knows they all hear.

“Of course not, Bella.” Dave smiles at her. “I think this is enough for now, we have work to do.”

It’s not really an end to the conversation, but she’s thankful for Dave, that he knew her and Aaron well enough to know that question their relationship would only make the slightly tense atmosphere worse.

It takes another couple of hours before someone mentions it, and Emily isn’t surprised that it’s JJ who corners her as she’s getting coffee.

“You do realize you have to give us all the details come girls’ night?” She smirks and Emily finds herself chuckling in relief.

“Well, some things a girl have to keep to herself.”

The look of slight surprise on JJ’s face disappears as Derek comes to join them.

“Are we gossiping about our new couple?” He grins and Emily feels another wave of relief, out of everybody she had been the most worried about Derek.

“No, defiantly not.” She pushes his shoulder gently and he laughs.

“Hey, it’s good to know who to talk to if I need a few days off, I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade him much better than I can.”

“Derek Morgan!”

By the time it’s time to leave the office everything has gone back to normal and Emily couldn’t have been happier even as the teasing tones and little comments got annoying, being teased was definitely better than them being angry.

“So, is Hotch your boyfriend?” Spencer looks towards Aaron’s office “Isn’t that like… scary?”

“No Spence.” She chuckles just as the door opens and Aaron looks down at her with a smile.

“What about in bed?” Penelope asks who hadn’t seen him behind her.

“That’s enough out of you.” Aaron says but he doesn’t sound angry, even smiling a little at the way Penelope jumps. “Ready to get home?” He turns to Emily who nods.

“Yes.” She smiles then turns to Penelope winks. “He can be a little scary in bed, but in the good way.” She whispers and both JJ and Penlope squeal a little, while Derek and Spencer both look horrified. When Aaron takes her hand she waves to the team.

“See you on Monday guys.”

“Bye.” Aaron nods and the whole way towards the door, they feel four pairs of eyes on them. By the time they reach the elevator, Dave is also about to leave.

“I’m happy for you.” He says, kind eyes moving from Aaron to Emily.

“You don’t seem… surprised.” She says, it had been in the back of her mind all day, how calm he had been. They step into the elevator together.

“You’re not as good at covering as you think Bella.” He laughs at the slight blush that appears on her cheeks. “In New York, you were going crazy before you knew where Aaron was” He looks back at Aaron “and while Emily was in the compound you were about to storm the place. It was obvious, at least to me.”

“Thank you for not saying anything.” Aaron says and Dave nods at him.

“Anytime.”

It’s another couple of weeks before Emily’s bruises have faded completely, the pain no longer existent, when Derek suggests that they should go out for a drink after work. It would be the first time they’d be out as a couple and Emily knew that even if they all had gotten used to her and Aaron, that seeing them out would be different from at the office.

“You’re sure that you want to go?” He asks just before they walk into the bar, his hand firm in hers. “No pain?”

“No pain.” She kisses him quickly and then drags him inside. She gets a table in the back that’s big enough for the entire team with Spencer and JJ, while the rest go to the bar. A few minutes later they come back and Aaron sits beside her, placing a martini in front of her. His arm comes behind her, lets his warm fingers rub her upper arm and she shivers slightly from the feeling.

They hadn’t had much time together after the compound and Emily was going a little crazy by the lack of him. But he had been away on cases, she had been too sore to do anything, and between that and Aaron having Jack, their time together had been limited. She knew that he noticed, and that he felt the same need as she did.

“Are you cold?” He asks when she shivers again and she shakes her head.

“No.” She still moves a little closer to him and his arm wraps around her and he kisses her temple.

“You guys are disgusting.” Derek says and Emily rolls her eyes.

“Shut up, I’m happy.” She says as she flips him off and then pulls Aaron into a kiss ignoring the grunt from across the table.

As the night goes on, Emily finds herself lusting after her boyfriend, the steady pulse of arousal deep in her stomach ever present. And he knows it, uses it against her as much as possible by grazing teasing fingers across her skin, pressing kisses against that spot on her neck that he knows drive her crazy.

So can anybody really blame her when she excuses herself to go after Aaron who’s gone to the bathroom? Can anybody really say that she shouldn’t push him back inside and lock the door when he opens it? She didn’t think so.

“What are you doing?” He gets out just before she kisses him roughly, her tongue quickly prying his lips open. Her hands move to his belt and Aaron groans, breaking their kiss. “Em, not here.”

“You should have thought of that before teasing me.” She mutters and he grins at the frustration in her voice.

“Baby,” He lifts her chin gently, studies the way her cheeks tint pink, how her eyes are blown black in that familiar way. “no self control.” He gently scolds her but she doesn’t care and attacks his lips again. This time he responds, hands moving to her hips and then under her shirt to spread wide over her lower back. “We have to be fast.”

She nods with a whimper as she continues to work on his belt, the loud clang of metal against porcelain making him laugh. But she doesn’t care, because she can feel him, half-hard already. Her hand moves inside his boxers the second his pants are around his ankles and a punched-out groan rumbles in his throat.

Aaron enjoys her hand around him, his own hands working on her jeans and with some help from her get them down her legs.

“Turn around.” He grunts and she spins in place, coming face to face with herself in the mirror. “Look at you.” His voice is low as he speaks against her ear, eyes on her in their reflection.

“Aaron.” She’s panting, lips parted and skin flushed and she can’t look away from them. He’s looking at her with something wild, any pretense that he didn’t want to do this gone as he rubs the tip of his cock through her holds. “Don’t tease me.” She pleads and he hums.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready, so you can take all of me.” He knows that she is, her slick shining in the dim light and coating the tip of his shaft as he rubs through her. “So wet.” He mumbles, more to himself than anything and then she pushes back against him.

“Oh God, yes.” She sighs at finally feeling the stretch of him, the burn delicious as she pushes back until his hips press against her backside. Her eyes are on his in the mirror, she watches as he swallows hard, shivers from the groan that he muffles against the back of her neck.

“So fucking tight.” He whispers, hands moving to grip her hips tight, wanting to keep her in place as he starts to thrust, pulling almost all the way out before pushing inside of her. “Feel me, feel all of my cock.”

“It’s so good.” She reaches behind her, burying her fingers in his short hair and tugs slightly. His hips snap harder in response. Her lip will be swollen from the way she’s biting down on it to keep her moans down, the hand not in his hair gripping the sink tight.

Aaron feels how her slick walls cling to him, bites down on her shoulder to keep his own groans from being too loud while he keeps his eyes on their reflection. She’s already straining in his hold so he moves one hand from her hip to her neck, wraps his hand around her slim throat and waits until she nods before squeezing.

“Look how pretty you look with my hand as necklace.” He growls in her ear and Emily whines, her hips pushing back desperately against him. “And the best thing is, you’re going to back to that table and drip of me, you’ll feel my hands on you, how I feel inside of you and you’re going to have to sit there, like a good girl, and pretend that I just didn’t fuck you silly in a dirty bathroom.”

“Aaron.” She gasps as her eyes roll back and he releases her. She takes a few breaths, the heat in pit of her stomach spreading and then he squeezes around her throat again. It’s not hard, just enough pressure for her to notice and she’s just barely able to keep her moans down. She lets go of his hair to grip the sink with both hands and starts to move back against him with fervor, chasing her release as he groans behind her.

“That’s it, so good sweetheart.” He lets go of her other him and instead moves his hand between her legs to rub her clit. His fingers are gentle as they circle it and her cries of pleasure were barely held back by his grip hardening around her throat. “It’s like you want us to get caught.” He teases and she chuckles breathlessly, a filthy smile on her face.

“Out of the two of us, you’re the exhibitionist.”

She was right, there was no point denying it so Aaron nodded.

“Maybe another time.” He muttered, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of them doing something like this in public again. But Emily was tightening around him, his own release building by each thrust of his hips, so that was a discussion for another day.

“Don’t stop, fuck I’m getting close.” She grunted, her body tensing as Aaron rubbed her clit faster. It wasn’t long until she was spasming between his body and the sink, her eyes rolling back as she came hard enough for her legs to give out. His grip on her throat loosened, his fingers moving away from her clit as she slumped and he started to fuck into her harder, chasing his own release.

When he came, Emily sighed happily at the heat of him, his groans low against her ear. She was quick to pull her underwear and jeans on once he moved away. They kissed quickly and then Aaron walked to the door.

“See you out there.” He winked and she grinned knowingly. She quickly fixed her hair and clothes and then she walked out too, wordlessly sitting down at the table.

“You were gone a while.” JJ smirked at her, blue eyes moving over her face and upper body quickly.

“There was a line.”

“Huh, interesting. I just came from the bathroom, and there was no line.” Penelope joined in and when Aaron cleared his throat and Emily refused to meet their eyes, the whole table erupted in laughs.

“Jesus Christ.” Derek muttered behind his beer.

“No no, Aaron Hotchner.” She corrected him with a beaming grin.

They got home later than they had thought, went straight to bed and the following day they picked up Jack. They spent the day in the park and Emily got the feeling of family, something unfamiliar to her but something she couldn’t see herself without anymore. Aaron was her future, so was Jack, and she had never thought that just a few months ago she never would have imagined being so happy.

When Aaron wakes up the day after, it’s by the sound of clattering from the kitchen and he groans at the volume. He rolls onto his side to see Emily’s side of the bed empty and then the loud sound of something falling onto the floor and Emily cursing makes him sit up. He finds a note on her pillow and with a soft smile he picks it up.

Making pancakes, if the fire alarm wakes you… It was Jack

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

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lavendertales · 2 years ago

Text

Guilty pleasures: Chapter 8**

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you and Joel grow closer, while you and Ellie decide to leave a legacy behind yourselves.

word count: 5k

WARNINGS: shower sex, vaginal fingering, doggy.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @loregifs

series masterlist | AO3

The morning arrived far earlier than Joel had expected. When he woke up, mildly disoriented, he felt rays of sunshine on his face—quite the unusual contrast with the cold November weather—and emptiness next to him.

Joel pats the left side of the bed, fully awake once he realizes that you’re not there. He scans the room, then struggles to get his aching body out of bed to inspect the rest of the house.

Suddenly, a rather shocking realization comes to him: he’s afraid.

He’s afraid of losing you.

Even losing sight of you, thinking you are no longer there, is terrifying him to his very core.

Alas, he finds you standing in the kitchen, focused on something over at the stove. The first scent to hit his nose is that of coffee. He inhales it, closing his eyes as if to savor it better, then distinguishes the other smells: bacon and eggs. It feels like an eternity has passed since Joel enjoyed a home cooked meal, especially prepared by someone he—

Well I’ll be damned.

“Morning,” you welcome him.

“Morning.”

His voice is gruff, still rich with sleep, and the sound tingles your skin, tickling your senses to life. You pour him a cup of freshly brewed coffee as Joel roams behind you and when you face him, you nearly spill the coffee, clashing at his chest.

He looks at you with dark, lustful eyes, the memory of last night deeply rooted into both your brains still. If his gaze is anything to go by, you have a faint clue as to what his mind is set to.

“You need to eat something,” you say in an unusually low voice.

“I really should.”

You quickly realize what he means, and your skin is auburn with need and flattery alike. In an attempt to disguise how much his words get to you, you clear your throat, backing away a little.

“I meant actual food,” you emphasize, setting two plates for the both of you.

Joel doesn’t reply, but he does roll his eyes as if in disbelief that you would deny him the day’s most important meal—you.

You sit at the table, eating in silence, enjoying the savory breakfast. Last night was more than reconciliation or an admittance of feelings—however indirectly. It was a moment of deep intimacy, one that reassured Joel you’re the one for him, the one person who would always be there for him and Ellie and who would kill anything and anyone that stands in between the three of you.

Last night, Joel Miller felt loved.

And now, as he watches you eat in peace, exchanging the occasional glance and smile, there is not a single doubt in his mind that the intense mixture of feelings he had been secretly nesting for you has but one result: love. In spite of everything that had happened, in spite of his fallout with Ellie, Joel feels like there’s at least one person who still cares for him, and that is you, without questions.

Funny thing, loving someone. It completely blindsides you; it makes you feel the strongest and weakest you’ve ever felt. It makes you capable of horrifying things should the situation ask for it. And from the moment you pointed a shotgun at him, Joel knew deep down you were nothing like any of the women he had encountered in his life. No, you were strong and vicious, borderline unhinged.

But you were also intoxicatingly sweet and wonderful, a beautiful madness he had grown way too accustomed to.

It may have been a very long time since he’s felt the thrill of loving someone, the comfort and the scary parts of it, but he damn well remembers how it feels. He surely feels it now.

Would a confession even be something you’d want to hear? In many ways, you are just like Joel, secluded in a dark corner with your fears and doubts, closed off from the rest of humanity. But the two of you have grown closer together, known each other’s little habits and routines and whatnot, and maybe if he’d just come out and say it—

“I might’ve roasted the beans a little too much,” you say, making a face upon tasting the very bitter coffee. “Sorry about that.”

Joel takes a sip as well, temporarily grounded back to reality. “Don’t be. It’s tasty.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. I like it just the way it is.”

His mind starts spinning with possible ways of confessing to you, but truth be told, the last time he told someone he loves them was a few years before Sarah was born. So… must’ve been at least thirty years ago, when he was in his early twenties.

Joel softly coos your name, gaining your attention; but when his eyes meet yours, he feels the self-imposed pressure and stress.

“What is it?” you gently ask.

“I’m just—I’m glad to have you in my life. And that you’re in Ellie’s life, too.”

You smile, never asking for anything more. You know that his words weigh heavily and that the meaning behind them is nothing random, nothing short of care.

“You know, since we had breakfast, I was thinking of taking a shower,” you say with playfulness in your voice. “So... you can decide how you wanna play this.”

You finish your coffee and grin mischievously at him, headed for the bathroom. You slowly dispose of your clothes, catching glimpses of your scarred skin in the mirror. Maybe another time you might’ve felt self-conscious and hated the way that your skin looks overall, but not now, not anymore. Not when your pulse is in your throat, anticipating Joel’s arrival.

Because you know he’ll be there. Not just for the sake of feeling clean and warming up with hot, soapy water, but for you as well.

You start the shower, setting the ideal temperature, and let the water trickle down your body. One foot in the bathtub, the other one following, and you’re right under the shower head. Then you feel movement behind you, strong, calloused hands caressing your hips.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” you smile.

Joel presses a few kisses on your back and on your shoulders, then buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“How can I not come when it’s you, naked in the shower?” he teases.

His fingers knead and trace every inch of your skin; Joel takes the soap and starts cleaning your body, and you do the same for him. It feels like you have all the time in the world, so neither of you rushes anything. While his hands fondle your breasts, soon burying his head between them, taking each nipple in his mouth till they pebble under his teeth, you move lower, beginning to stroke his cock to life with slow motions.

Joel huffs, his lips finding yours in a wet, sloppy kiss. Soon, that gesture alone takes over, causing you to succumb to it completely as you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in. Your mouth is like a hot furnace and so is your body; you’re almost clean by this point, but feeling Joel’s weeping erection poke around your belly only adds fuel to the fire within. One of his hands sneaks in between your legs, rubbing in between your folds, and you whimper in his mouth. You feel unusually tender and sensitive this morning, as if he’d just fucked you roughly mere minutes ago. You whimper and whine, your hot breaths tickling Joel’s grin.

Soon he isn’t solely rubbing your clit or through your folds, he’s flat out parting your legs to make room for his fingers to thrust inside you. You try to grind onto them, to feel them as much as possible, but in the end you let Joel work his magic. He kisses you tenderly, a stark contrast with the way his fingers are mercilessly pumping in and out of you. The only sound are your ragged breaths, growing shallower as the bathroom, in return, grows steamier and significantly hotter. Joel’s lips trail your jaw and neck, his ears awfully sensitive to the soft whimpers you’re letting out for him.

“Can you come on my hand?” he asks so sweetly you might pass out. “Can you do that for me, darlin’?”

“Mhm—“

All other words seem to flee from your mind right now. Your sole focus is your pleasure, ripping through you so boldly it causes your eyes to flutter shut under its weight.

“Oh, fuck—Joel—“

Your forehead meets his as his fingers slow down the pace, giving you time to ride out your orgasm. When you find his lips again, you kiss him with fervor, almost insane-like, desperate to just feel his mouth. But after a while, Joel’s erection is downright painful, no longer possible to ignore it, so he spins you around gently so that you have some support against the wall’s tiles, and curls his fist around his cock, not daring to stroke himself for the fear of coming too fast. You feel him, hard and aching, around the curve of your ass, and your breath almost hitches in your chest.

He teases you by rubbing his cock between your cheeks, not sliding inside but not doing anything else, driving you crazy.

“Joel, come on,” you whine, trying to sneak a glance behind you.

“Is this okay? I just need—“

“Yes, please. I need to feel you. All of you.”

You barely catch a glimpse of his naked body, all covered in water droplets, before Joel’s hand moves back to your hips to steady you, and pushes the fat head of his cock past your folds, sticky and wet.

You both moan in tandem at that first thrust. It’s ecstatic, like it’s the first time you’ve ever felt each other this way, so intimately and so close—when in reality, it’s only the third time. But isn’t this the charm, the fun of it? To have the same thrill with each other as you keep moving forward in life, together?

“God, you’re so wet—so fuckin’ good—being inside you—“

He snaps his hips quite fast as opposed to the tenderness that you both relished into last night. He holds you in place and fucks himself deeper and deeper into you as pleasure crawls up your spine, traveling your whole body before settling in your belly. It’s almost too soon to come again, and you even doubt that’s what you’re feeling, but when Joel moves his free hand to your clit and starts rubbing it messily, it is undeniable that it won’t take long for you to be in full bliss once more.

Not that you’ve had so many partners throughout the two decades of the outbreak, but even with the fair share you’ve had, none could even hold a candle next to Joel. You’ve never felt pleasure like this, so debilitating and needy, and yet so tender and caring.

Joel snaps his hips even faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the series of whimpers and grunts, as well as the water sliding down your heated bodies. You sneak your own hand between your legs to furiously rub your clit when Joel focuses solely on harshly grabbing the flesh of your hips. The mixture of touches all over your body, as well as the feral way Joel’s moving inside of you, results in you clenching around him, hard, crying out his name as you come.

“Shit, you get tight when you come,” you hear him grunt.

Joel pulls out and, stroking himself to completion all over your ass. You both still as pleasure still ripples over your skin, then Joel begins to scrub your body gently.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he’s scrubbing your back.

You smile. “No. You were fantastic.”

“Not too bad for an old guy, huh?”

You turn around, noticing his beautifully fucked out face, and your smile widens.

“I think you got some young, hip moves about you,” you tease as you pull him in to kiss him again.

You’re not really sure how long you stayed in that shower. But by the time you finally get out, you are equal parts dirty and clean.

You’re drying your hair with a towel and smiling at Joel, both of you covered with two tiny towels, when you stop in the middle of the living room.

“Morning,” Ellie says, pursing her lips as she looks at you both.

You clear your throat, exchanging an embarrassed look with Joel. “Morning, Ellie. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“I assume it was difficult with all the… washing.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I don’t—I don’t have an excuse for this. It’s… exactly what it looks like.”

Joel clears his throat as well, avoiding Ellie’s face altogether. “I’ll uh—go get changed,” he announces almost silently, leaving the two of you alone.

You get the chance to notice Ellie’s attire, the same one from last night, and your curiosity grows, as does your excitement.

“So, how was your evening?” you ask her. “Based on the fact that you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes and you just got in, can I assume it went well?”

Ellie can’t help but smile flustered. “It was very, very nice.”

“Really? Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!”

“Took your advice. Things happened… it was a bit awkward, though.”

“That’s okay. It can be awkward at first. But it’s good to laugh in those moments. It’s not always that serious.”

“Well, it definitely was, but it also—wasn’t. If that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

Ellie takes a quick look around, then her gaze shifts upon you, the look in her eyes livelier.

“How was your evening?” she asks.

Your face drops in the slightest. “Oh, uh… it was good too. We talked. For a while.”

Ellie raises her brows at you, a reaction that makes you both flustered and amused.

“We did!” you defend yourself. “We did talk.”

“Looks like it.”

“Hey, I said for a while.”

She does giggle, and so do you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the towel curled around your body barely conceals you from her, and that is noticeable especially when Ellie’s eyes faintly roam over your figure, dropping to the tattoos that are visible to her.

“Actually, I came over to talk to Joel,” she confesses. “If you guys are done… talking. Or washing.”

“Oh,” you get out, stunned. “Okay, I’ll—go get dressed, give you two some time.”

“Thanks.”

You rush to the bedroom, pleasantly remarking a freshly changed Joel. When you approach him, he seems concerned, growing more so once he recognizes the astonished look on your face.

“Ellie wants to talk to you,” you whisper to him.

Joel makes a face betraying restlessness and fear. He simply nods as you nudge him towards the living room, giving you the opportunity to change and dry your hair.

“Hey,” Joel greets her, his heart stammering in his throat.

“Hey.”

There’s a brief pause, neither certain of who should say what first, so Joel clears his throat—a habit he seemed to be doing a lot more often since he and Ellie have drifted apart and whenever she was around—and does a little gesture to invite Ellie outside, on the porch. The sun is beaming proudly over Jackson this morning, while the cold air feels refreshing. The view isn’t half bad, either.

With his half-finished cup of coffee in his hand, Joel leans over the porch, still not looking at Ellie.

“Coffee?” she asks him.

“Yeah. She brewed it this morning. Best one I’ve had in years.”

Ellie watches him closely. She sees the liveliness in his eyes, the ache and the pain, altogether contributing to his aura, and she reckons he must be living in guilt, as well as bliss.

It couldn’t have been easy, she fleetingly thought.

“You seem happy,” Ellie remarks. “With her.”

Joel doesn’t respond right away. He thinks of your tenderness, of the way you held him so gently last night and the way you let him fuck you furiously this morning, thus allowing him to be both at his worst and his best.

And he thinks of how dear you are to him, how much love he’s grown to have for you.

“I am,” Joel silently says, as if afraid to admit his happiness out loud, as if it would be unfair to tell that to Ellie. “She’s… good.”

“She is good for you, yeah. I can see that.”

Another moment of silence goes by, with Ellie fidgeting nervously next to Joel. Luckily, the latter takes the reins of the conversation.

“She mentioned you had a date last night,” he coos.

“Yeah.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Uh… you’ve probably seen her around, I don’t know.”

There’s an oh inside Joel’s head, one he does not voice. When he looks to his left, he can clearly see Ellie’s nervousness, her hesitation around the subject, and he doesn’t want to push it, though curious he may be.

“Was it okay? The date?” Joel can’t help but ask.

“Yeah, we—it was really nice.”

“Seems you like her a lot.”

Ellie grows more nervous, not out of discomfort of having this type of discussion with Joel, but simply by admitting her feelings out loud.

“Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but what I do know is that she’s lucky to have you.”

Hearing Joel’s words, spoken with such fear, yet with such tenderness, almost makes Ellie break. She grips the wooden edge of the porch till her knuckles turn white, going over last night’s events on fast forward.

“You’re such an asshole,” she blurts out.

“I’m not tryin’ to—“

“I was supposed to die in that hospital. My life would’ve fucking mattered.”

“And it does. It does matter.”

“Don’t fucking say that. You took away the one purpose my life had. You took that from me.”

Ellie does her best to hold back her tears, all due to her anger at the world, at the parents she’s never known, the people she’s lost along the way, and at Joel, the man she viewed as a father figure for the longest time.

It’s only then that Joel’s eyes meet Ellie’s, for the first time in who knows how long. He straightens up, staring right at her with incredible guilt as he mutters, “If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment… I would do it all over again.”

Ellie sees the seriousness in his eyes, the way his face roughened as he said those words. She nods, trying to accept his intentions for what they really are, perhaps born not out of selfishness, but out of love.

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “I just—I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that. But… I would like to try.”

Her voice breaks by the time she gets the last word out, and God knows Joel is struggling too despite his gruff exterior. He takes a breath in, almost too shaky for his own health, and nods in appreciation at her.

“I’d like that,” he coos.

“Okay. I uh—I was thinking of watching a movie tonight. Curtis and Viper 2.”

Joel’s face seems to light up once that movie name is brought up, and it eases some of Ellie’s anxiety too.

“That’s a darn good one,” Joel says.

“Jury’s out till I actually see it.”

Both smile, eyes shying away.

But you see it. You see from the window how they’re leaning closer to each other, how they are willing to do whatever it takes for each other, just like they did till then. Joel and Ellie weren’t just protective over each other—and their loved ones—they were territorial. Downright cruel when need be. That was, perhaps, the most striking resemblance about the pair.

You decide to keep to yourself the fact that you accidentally referred to Ellie once as Ellie Miller.

DECEMBER

As the cold returned full-force, you found that going on patrol under the circumstances was a bit more challenging. That, of course, has not lowered your confidence, nor your desire to dispose any threats or dangers surrounding Jackson.

You half expected to go in fighting mode a little more restrained, even fearful. Instead, you surprised yourself by being sharper than usual, perhaps encouraged by a motivation you would’ve thought as long gone a year ago.

Being with Joel left you feeling both weaker and stronger. It emptied and filled you at the same time, giving you the necessary motivation to carry on. You knew that the word “future” was far too precarious to even think about, but you had the promise of another tomorrow. Joel and Ellie, along with Tommy and Maria, have become your family, your home, your new reason for being alive and enjoying it.

Joel and Ellie have begun mending their relationship as well. Every Friday night they had their movie night, during which you disappeared either at the bar or having dinner with Tommy and Maria. The former had invited you to join them plenty, but you merely smiled on your way out. You preferred leaving them in the solitude of their home, exchanging opinions on old movies as they rebuilt the foundation of their friendship. It was a tough road ahead, that much was certain, but what was surefire was Joel’s determination to keep Ellie in his life. You knew that he’d never give up on her, no matter what he had to do.

And, come to it, Ellie would do exactly the same.

Though sometimes, you needed some time alone with Joel too. Ellie may have re-learned how to knock, but you still had to be careful for unsolicited visits. Take tonight, for instance: you’re sprayed on the couch, snug on Joel’s lap, making out like a couple of randy teenagers. His calloused hands are roaming over your back, teasingly lifting your shirt once in a while, a finger or two cleverly sneaking up the fabric to feel the warm skin beneath. You warmed up with two glasses of whiskey each, after which Joel built the fireplace and put on an old record to set the mood. You couldn’t even tell him how much you appreciated all the little gestures. All you could do was show him.

And he sure loved being shown.

“Maria says there are big chances of having grapes next year,” Joel coos in one breath, resuming his kissing over your neck.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“And—why are you telling me this now?”

Joel lifts his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes fully blown out, big and brown and oh so soft, and you melt right as your fingers graze his stubbly cheek.

“Is this your idea of foreplay?” you tease.

He throws you one of the Miller trademark glares and you chuckle.

“I’m gonna make you some wine.”

A smile breaks from the corners of your lips, stretching further and further when you see that Joel smiles, too. You’re too flustered and shook to say anything within the following seconds, so you resort to staring in awe at him.

“You said you miss it,” Joel seemingly explains.

“I might’ve mentioned that, yes.”

“If I’m bein’ honest, I miss havin’ a glass of red wine with a beautiful woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

You refrain from giggling, though it’s all you can think about doing—for the most part. The whiskey and the fireplace already built a warmth inside of you that made you giddy and excited, but this is simply too much.

“Do you know how to make wine?” you can’t help but ask.

He shrugs, making a funny face. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sure someone in this town knows how to.”

Speechless, you shake your head in amusement, holding both his cheeks in the palms of your hands. You’re beyond touched and flattered, and everything else that was warm and happy—everything you thought you’d never be again.

“This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” you say.

“It’s probably gonna have questionable taste.”

“I’ll drink it anyway. But for now, how about you make me whine?”

Your smile is the last thing Joel sees before he closes his eyes and reciprocates your feisty kiss. You begin to unconsciously grind on his lap, growing more impatient as he grows harder.

And then someone knocks on the door.

“It’s Ellie. I’m coming in,” you hear from outside.

Normally Joel would’ve grunted and made other displeased sounds, but for the past month or so, things have been so good between him and Ellie that he couldn’t possibly be upset. He had been the one to encourage her to stop by whenever she wanted, and here she was, doing exactly that, so how could he be upset?

Your flushed faces are met with Ellie’s, and you instantly get off of Joel’s lap while she looks away, slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

“It’s okay, it was just a little bit of kissing.”

Ellie clears her throat, finally mustering the courage to look at you both and being eased to remark that you were sitting next to each other normally on the couch. Joel gestures for her to take a seat next to them, and she does.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she tells you.

She goes through the backpack, taking out a tape recorder. You frown.

“So far, we don’t know if there are other immune people,” Ellie explains. “Maybe there’s more, maybe not. But either way, I’ve had this idea of recording ourselves so when we’ll be gone, if someone finds this, they’ll know there was a shred of hope once.”

“Like they do in research,” you conclude.

“Yeah. Our names and our stories and… who knows, maybe one day there will be more immune people finding the tape and they’ll know where it started.”

You smile at her. “I like it.”

“I think it’s great,” Joel fortifies.

Ellie smiles at you both—during which Joel’s heart swells in size, nearly beaming with happiness.

“Do you wanna go first?” she asks. “Since… I guess technically you were the first immune one.”

“Sure.”

She hands you the recorder, and you press it, stating your name and age, followed by your story. Joel and Ellie listen, somewhat mesmerized, exchanging the occasional glare.

Ever since he met Ellie, he had fought so hard to stay away emotionally, to do his job and never look back, but now, sitting next to her and you, he realizes it is another moment when he’s proven just how wrong he was.

Like Bill once told him, “Men like you and me, we’re here to do a job. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way”. It sure was true; Joel would die a thousand times over for either one of you. He’d do anything to keep you both safe, and he knew you, at least, would do the same.

Sometime later, you pass the recorder to Ellie. She clears her throat and pushes the button, exhaling.

“My name is Ellie Williams, currently seventeen years old, and… I’m immune too. I got bit when I was fourteen, and I guess… I’m still waiting for my turn to change.”

Ellie goes over her full story, leaving you and Joel the time and space to gaze at her the same way two proud parents would at their child. You suppose you do feel maternal towards Ellie, and right now, with all the ups and downs, it does feel like the three of you are a family.

Joel squeezes your thigh to make you attentive, nodding at you to follow him in the kitchen.

“What?” you ask him.

He falters, seemingly gathering his composure. You’re nothing if not eased when you see him smiling in the slightest as he strokes your hand.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he tells you. “With me.”

You can’t help but smile too. “And I’m glad your little stunt didn’t work out.”

Joel moves his index over the scar at his temple, shuddering. It feels like many lifetimes ago that he decided to end things on his own accord, and every day for the past several weeks he’s been thankful he hasn’t succeeded. Every day he gets to hold you, kiss you and be with you he’s thankful. And each time he looks at Ellie and hears her laugh, has her close, he’s more thankful that he’s still here.

But you know Joel’s words aren’t out of the blue or random. They carry deep meaning, the weight of the real words he wishes he could say flat out. You appreciate it nonetheless. More importantly, you understand it and reciprocate it tenfold.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” you smile and peck his lips.

“All done,” Ellie announces, awkwardly following you two into the kitchen.

“You’re gonna have to get used to this at some point.”

“I did. I just—don’t wanna interrupt bigger moments.”

“Lord, I hope not.”

Joel’s words make you both chuckle, filling the kitchen with crystal clear sounds, pure and innocent.

It’s the happiest his house has been in forever, and he thinks this is what being at peace—as much as the environment allows—feels like.

“Hang on to that,” you tell Ellie when she goes to hand you the recorder. “You’re the younger one.”

“Do you think they’ll be useful someday?”

“Maybe. Maybe the next generation will have more immune people. If there’s two of us, something must be happening. Like you said, people should know there is always a shred of hope for anything and anyone.”

Joel keeps you close to him, his eyes alternating between you and Ellie.

Yes, this is what being at peace must feel like.

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