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softlyspector · 6 months

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Grays

Summary: Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked. He would never dare admit it, though. Based on this lovely ask.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Joel being insecure about his looks, age, gray hair (idiot 🙄 affectionate), Joel being a nuisance by sweating and chopping wood, Joel's bad attitude, reader is implied to be from the south/Appalachia (and has an accent), food as a love language, food mentions and eating, minor internal angst, Joel character study?because I'm insane, very domestic, fall vibes

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you like this and thank you to the anon who sent that ask. I wrote this in just a few hours because you inspired me so and a price can't be put on that. Thank you all for always being so lovely and letting me write whatever comes to mind/inspires at the time💕

“Are you almost done with that?”

The ax arcs through the air again, splits solidly through the log and then thumps down onto the stump beneath. Two halves of split wood go flying in opposite directions, and you set about gathering them up for Joel, who pauses, one hand on his hip as breathes heavily through his nose.

There’s a tendril of sweat snaking down his temple; the ax hangs loosely from one hand like it weighs nothing.

“What?” He snaps.

You smile and repress the urge to laugh, turning your back so he doesn’t see. “I said, are you almost done?”

He makes a disbelieving noise, an indignant half-squak. “This has gotta be done before winter sets in, in case it slipped your mind.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t,” you agree, rounding the stump to prop up one of the halves back onto the ax scarred stump. “It’s just that you’ve been at it for a good long while. Ain’t you tired?”

You step back and Joel straightens his shoulders, fingers tightening around the handle of the ax again. He lifts and swings, muscle straining in his arms, shirt lifting just enough that you see a thin line of his skin. The log splits, and you step forward with the other piece, ignoring the flutter in your belly at the sight of him. “Would go faster with help,” he grouses pointedly.

“Mhm, or you could come get some dinner. It’s gettin’ dark.”

Grunt, lift, swing, slice.

No answer.

You roll your eyes and instead sweep the fallen pieces of scattered wood into your arms and start toward the growing pile of firewood along the back side of the house. You don’t get very far with your burden. “Hey,” he says, tugging you back by your shoulder. “Quit that. C’mere.” The firewood is out of your arms before you can protest.

He shoulders past you, heat radiating off him in dizzying waves. The autumn air is chilly and growing colder, the day dunked in a gray, dusky fading light. The sky is that late autumn purple it sometimes gets to be, rosy like blush and lavender, the fingers of the trees sharp and black against the horizon. “If you want help,” you comment, following closely behind him. “You do actually have to let me help.”

His shoulders pull taut, the wide cut of them straining at the red flannel he’s outfitted in. “Uh-huh.” He drops the wood on the top of the pile and turns back to you. His eyes flicker over you, chin tucking down, head tilting as he assesses you. “You eat?”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him.

Typical Joel.

“Might be what I’d come to fetch you for. Supper’s on.”

“That so?”

“Chicken and dumplings,” you say by way of explanation. “And gravy.”

“Sounds good.” He says it with a note of surprise in his voice. “Real good.”

“‘Cause it is. Come eat. The work will be here tomorrow. You’ll even have my help that time around. If ya happen to let me help that is.” You beckon him with a jerk of your chin toward the open back door.

He swipes the back of his hand over his forehead, then runs it down his face, palm cupping his chin. The thick tendons outlined in his throat tighten when he clenches his jaw and considers the mess of the backyard. Warm yellow light is starting to unspool across the lawn, over long dead grass and the whisper of browned leaves. “Ellie eat?”

“She’s with those friends of hers tonight. Suppose she’ll eat with them.”

He makes another vague noise in the back of his throat, still looking at the stack of logs he’d yet to split.

Joel does this sometimes. Works himself like a dog, gets grouchy and sharp, forgets to eat.

Sometimes it takes a firm hand and hard pressed coaxing to get him to give it up.

If you weren’t there, you wonder how long it’d last, that rise and fall of the ax, the strain of his body, already well past its limits.

He must be exhausted and hungry, not that he’d ever rightly admit to that.

That’s another thing you wonder after — did Joel even feel those things anymore?

Yes, you think. Since Jackson, yes. He just had a way of ignoring his own needs. He’d run on empty for days if he had to.

But he hesitates, makes a show of surveying the work he has left for him, the last dregs of the dying sun spilling weak across the yard. Or, maybe it's not a show. With Joel, things rarely are. He’s earnest, feet rooted firmly to the ground.

You watch him while he deliberates. One huge hand is still fisted around the handle of the ax, the bulk of his forearm straining, muscle and vein twisting prettily beneath flushed, damp skin. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. His chest and neck are tinted the same color, dappled in the same sheen of sweat.

His hair is starting to go properly silver, a dark attractive gray that extends to his beard, the chest hair that just pokes out against the top of the flannel.

It’s unfortunate, really, how he seems to get more beautiful each year. Age shouldn’t look as good as it does on him.

When your eyes flicker back to his, he’s already watching you. An unreadable expression is tangled over his features, complicated and unknowable. Just as quick as it’s there, it’s gone, his expression cleared. You aren’t sure what he’s seen on your face that makes him fold inward, shut the door closed on you.

“All right,” he agrees, leaning the ax against the stack of wood, seeming reluctant about it.

Still, he follows you up the back porch stairs and through the door, wipes his shoes on the mat and then toes them off as you close the door to the encroaching night.

There’s something about socked feet, bare feet, that is painfully domestic, painfully homey and full of a feeling you don’t know how to articulate anymore. Something that reminds you so starkly of life before. You’d both gone months, once, without ever taking your shoes off, aside to tape them and switch socks, too afraid you might not have a moment to put them back on.

Joel glances at you as you shuffle past him, a hand placed gently between his shoulders for just a second, before you trek further into the house. “Smells good,” he compliments, following close on your heels. “I ain’t had chicken n’ dumplings in years.”

“That so?”

“Mm.” He moves toward the stove in what you’re sure will be an attempt to serve both of you.

“Nuh uh, sit,” you intercept him bodily and direct him into the chair at the breakfast table.

He huffs at you and sits, only mildly annoyed.

“Crabby,” you comment, spooning out a sizable portion. You always feel that he doesn’t eat enough, that he tries to leave too much behind for you and Ellie, especially after hard work. Joel still ate like he expected rations to run out. It’s unconscious, but it still worries you.

“I ain’t crabby,” he gripes.

You roll your eyes, sit the plate in front of him, and press the back of your hand to his cheek. The sweat is drying tacky on his skin, the strained rose color fading from his cheeks in the warmth of the house. He should have been wearing a jacket; his skin is a clammy kind of chilled, even sweaty and warm as he is. “You’ve actually never not been crabby, and it’s worse when you haven’t eaten,” you inform and hand him a fork with your other hand. “Ellie would agree with me.”

His hair curls at the base of his skull with the evaporating humidity of his skin. Like his socked feet, it feels painfully domestic to witness. Incredibly human, which Joel seemed more than, sometimes. “Guess she would,” he agrees. You lean your hip into his side and wait for him to take a bite, moving your hand away from his cheek to rest on his shoulder.

Joel might show his love through killing himself chopping wood for the winter, but this is the way you do it. He can’t cook, anyhow, and it makes you feel good to give him something good. It reminds you of better times.

When he swallows, eyes fluttering closed at the taste, you pat his shoulder and start to pull away to get your own plate.

“Hey,” he catches at your hand. His fingers tangle briefly with yours. His thumb sweeps over your skin, soft about it, though he doesn’t say anything else for a long moment. “It’s real good.”

“You’re welcome, Joel.” You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.

When you’re both done eating, he does the dishes, builds a fire in the grate in the living room so the room is warm when you find your way there, book in hand with the intention to complete a nightly ritual that he’s never raised complaint at since it was quietly started.

You alternate between words and music, and last night Joel had played the guitar for you in the chilled air of the back porch, a blanket tucked around your legs.

Joel would never dare admit it, not in ten thousand years, not in the pits of hell with a knife at his throat, but he likes to be taken care of, too.

It’s just so often that he bristles at it, feels guilty and faulty over it.

After dinner, with a full belly, and a stiff drink in him, he’s better about it.

Better about letting you shove him down onto the couch to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at those delightfully gray locks. It’s longer now, too, and you like that too. You hope he forgets about getting it cut.

It’s such a nice look on him. Handsome. You should probably tell him that, but the words never come out.

He lets you do as you like, easy about it, eyes closed, breathing even and slow as you settle beside him, pressed tight to his chest, ass hanging off the edge of the sofa. You mean to open the book lodged somewhere between your bodies, but you don’t. You just look at him, sleepy, between the fire and the heavy food.

Maybe he’d never admit it but this is one of the many little ways he can accept it. He lets you feed him food that reminds you of your childhood, lets you read to him on alternating evenings, lets you bring him in from the cold when it starts to get dark.

“Should I add chicken and dumplings into our rotation?” You wonder aloud, tracing the lines by his eyes carefully, the vein in his throat, the hollow at his clavicle, the slope of his broad shoulders.

He only grunts and doesn’t open his eyes. “It was good.” And that’s the closest you’ll get to an admission that he would like to have it again.

“Glad for it, Miller,” you say and tuck yourself under his chin. You hear the book fall to the floor and make no move to get it. “You need a shower,” you complain instead, nose pressed to his throat.

He does, but he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like himself, sweat and sawdust and cedar, the faintest whiskey. It’s a human scent, almost comforting. And Joel has, frankly, smelled much worse.

He just locks one thick arm around your waist, the wide flat of his palm against your spine. “In a minute.” But he’s breathing deeply already, halfway to a place you can’t reach. His arm tightens, his head tips down heavily against yours, solid and comforting, mostly asleep.

“In a minute,” you echo.

Joel wakes to a dark living room, a chill creeping in around the edges of the room. You’re still pressed tight against him, though he can’t see how with the way you’re practically halfway onto the floor. If he loosens his arm even a fraction, you’ll go tumbling down.

He considers doing it for just a second, suppressing a chuckle at the unimpressed reaction it would garner, the wet cat look of anger and indignation that would pull over your face.

Instead, he nudges you awake, rubbing your back until you start to stir. The bedroom would be warmer for you, now that the fire had burned down. He hates the thought of you cold, always has. “Let’s go to bed,” he says in your ear.

He doesn’t know exactly where you came from before. It doesn’t really matter anymore, doesn’t hold any weight or meaning, since most places are just empty graveyards that can’t really be returned to. But wherever you came from gave you a pretty little accent, a twang in your voice that’s different from his.

It’s something he loves about you, sounds like home.

“Joel,” you complain, brow scrunching. “You just go on and leave me be.” It’s almost funny, how much twangier it is when you’re close to sleep.

“Can’t do that, honey. C’mon now,” He pats your hip and keeps a steady pressure on your back until you grumble and start to sit up. “Go up to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You’re rubbing your eyes, leaning back against his legs. “Why?”

“Fire,” he nods to the still glowing embers as he sits up. “Don’t want the house burnin’ down. Wanna make sure Ellie got home all right, too.”

“Okay.” He keeps a hand on your waist until you’ve got your tired feet under you, still mostly asleep, he thinks, as you balance with one warm hand on his bent knee until you stumble away towards the stairs.

He sighs and tends to the fireplace, then checks out the kitchen’s back window to see the glow of Ellie’s lights on, before following you up the stairs. He expects a dark bedroom but you’re propped up against the headboard with the bedside lamp on, changed into sleep clothes but definitely still awake. “It ain’t that late,” you say when he arches a brow at you and leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “And it’s my turn,” you hold up the battered copy of the book you’ve been slowly reading to him.

“It’s all right—”

“Uh-uh,” you interrupt. “Go shower. Then come here.”

He holds up his hands. “Yes ma’am.”

“Mhm,” you hum and flip idly through the book, no longer looking at him.

There’s a hope lodged in his heart that you’ll fall back asleep while you wait. It ain’t that he doesn’t want to hear you read. He’s invested in that story now, and he loves your voice even if he didn’t. The cadence and shape of the words, the rumble of your voice against his ear is a nice balm to drift off to.

What's more is that you deserve the sleep, that he shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you downstairs.

There’s a lot of things about you that scare him. How much he cares for you, for one. But the thing bothering him most now is the one that stares back at him when he looks in the mirror.

Jesus, it’s like everyday there’s more gray in his hair, his beard, even his chest hair is starting to go white and gray. It’s like everyday, he looks and gets a little bit older.

It’s goddamn embarrassing the way he worries about it, the way it bothers him. He doesn’t remember aging, isn’t really sure when it happened. Maybe he spent so many years avoiding the mirror he missed it.

And, well, it wasn’t important before. But now that he has time to think beyond the next day, the next meal, he thinks about it. About how fucking old he looks, especially next to you.

You aren’t younger than him, not but maybe a couple years, if you are at all—another thing that doesn't matter anymore, birthdays and age and counting the years—but you don’t look your age. Your hair has retained its color, aside from the very artful looking gray starting to creep in at your temples, just barely there. Your face isn’t lined, not like his anyway, delicate, graceful little lines by your eyes, instead of the deep creases that crack up his. You don’t seem to ache in the same way he does, either. You don’t seem to feel old.

Maybe that’s why he’s so set on working himself down to the bone over chopping that wood, to prove he was still worth something to you, worth keeping around. Proof that he could keep up with what needed keeping up with.

He watches himself in the mirror, the lines under his eyes and across his forehead, age creeping in around the edge of him like a slow poison. The way you look at him sometimes. . .he knows you think about it too, know it too. You had been in the yard before dinner, eyes locked on him, a look on your face he couldn’t quite get a read on.

It worries him. Makes him sharp with you when he should be the opposite.

It’s embarrassing, really, the way he thinks about it, hates the way your eyes linger on him and feels too fucking self-concious about it to just ask you what you’re thinking. Maybe he just doesn’t want to know.

He glances away from his reflection, a sigh heavy in his chest. He needs a damn haircut, if nothing else.

He makes quick work of the shower, dressing in something warm because he’s always cold, even if that's just another thing he won’t admit to and that is an aversion that gets worse as the years go by.

You gave him a scarf recently, blue and soft, and he wears it because he likes the way you look at him when he leaves in the morning with it on.

When he pushes the door open, you’re still awake, curled up on his side of the bed, book held open with one hand. “Thought we were supposed to do that together,” he says mildly.

“I’m just re-reading where we left off.”

“Mm,” he sits down at your hip. “Scooch.”

You move over just enough for him to lie down, which he does with a huff and a groan. “You got that whole other side there, you know.”

“I like being close to you.”

“Well it ain’t like I’m far. Now c’mon, move it.”

“Cranky.”

“Thought it was crabby?”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan. “Real funny. Y’know sometimes I don’t even know if y’like me at all.”

The way you say it makes something sting in his chest, a sharp little barb wedged between two of his ribs.

You start to move further away, like he asked, when he hooks an arm around your waist, props himself up over you, tangled up in the middle of the bed like you’d end up anyway. “Like ain’t exactly the word I would use.”

A wicked smile pulls the corners of your mouth up. “What word would you use then?”

“Hm,” he looks you over, feels the curve of your thigh, the hook of your knee, press against his hip. “I think you already know what word I’d use.”

You reach up to cup his face between hands that have seen too much violence. The skin of your palms is softer than he remembers it being just a few years before, calloused thumbs sweeping in a tender arch over the apples of his cheeks. “Mm, I think I do.”

“Yeah, y’do,” he agrees, and then lets you pull him down against your chest. The comb of your hand slides through his hair, against the back of his neck and the tops of his shoulders. It’s nice. It’s the kind of affection, attention he’s not sure he’s ever had before.

Not since he was a kid, at the very least. He’s never been the one that got held, just the one doing the holding, and he hates that he likes it.

And he does like it, craves it.

Things like this, they were so easy to get used to, and the hardest thing in the world to adjust to. The mix of it, the easiness and the hard knot of disbelief and potential rejection, make for a disarming cocktail.

You’re so warm and soft under him, the scent of you wild and homey, like cooking and chilled air and soap.

“You smell better,” you tease and pinch his bicep. “You awake?” He feels you shift, book cracked open over his shoulder. “Or am I reading to the ghosts?”

“You got me,” he mutters, curling his arms around your waist, behind your back, and you arch just a little to accommodate him. The material of your shirt rucks up under his hands, soft, scarred skin warm where he touches you. “I’m listenin’.”

You rub the back of his neck again but don’t start reading. He waits a few minutes, listening instead to the sound of your breath, even and slow in your chest, the tap of your heartbeat against his ear.

“You forget how or somethin’?” He asks eventually.

You shake your head, and the paperback comes to rest against his spine. “Have I ever said—” You stop and he waits, but nothing more is forthcoming, just your silence and the kind way you touch him.

“What?”

When he picks his head up, your brows are tilted down over your eyes; you’re frowning at him. “Nothin’,” you dismiss, massaging two fingers against his temple, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Said what?” He tries not to have a bite in his voice about it but he does anyway. Just a little bit of a snap, because he worries whatever you might have not said are all the things he thinks about himself.

You shrug. “I just think the gray looks real nice on you.” You twist a strand of his hair around your finger and tug gently.

He huffs, expecting you to grin at him so he knows you’re just teasing him. But you don’t, your gaze is reverent, adoring where it’s focused on him. “It just makes me look fuckin’ old,” he disagrees and sounds bitter about it.

“No, it means you got to get older, Joel. Not everyone gets the privilege.”

That takes the wind out of his sails. He doesn’t say anything else, words collecting in the back of his mouth like a little ocean he can’t seem to make drain away.

“It makes you look. . .rugged,” you decide, tracing the curve of his jaw. “Handsome.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah.” Another tug. “I love it.”

“Mm.” He clears his throat, tips his head down against your body again, the trapped wing of your heart fluttering faster than it had been before. “All right. Get to readin’ now.”

It makes it just a little bit harder to hate, if that look in your eyes was appreciation, affection. Maybe that’s what he’d seen in your face earlier, and couldn’t quite recognize it.

You tap the book against the back of his head. “Idiot,” you sigh, and then start to read.

It’s some kind of thriller, something you’d started at the beginning of October and still haven’t entirely worked through. The plot is a little ridiculous, all things considered. After all the horrors he’s seen, this book doesn’t do much to thrill him, though it is entertaining in its own way, maybe a little funny.

He’d have to find something new when you’re done with it. Something seasonally appropriate, if he can help it. Some kind of Hallmark holiday romance ordeal. He’d like to hear you giggle through reading something like that out loud.

Yeah, even if it keeps him up, he’d find you something like that.

When your voice fades, each word cottony and long in your mouth with fatigue, he reaches back to pluck the book from your hands, and then flick out the light.

“Baby,” you coo, and it’s nice to hear, nice to have you reaching for him in the dark, kissing him goodnight, because he’s yours, and you like him fine.

What’s the other word? The one that’s decidedly not like?

“Love you,” you say against his mouth, the edge of your lip sticking wetly to his. “Even though you’re always crabby.”

He loves you, too, even though he’s cranky about the whole goddamn world.

💕 Thank you for reading! I would love to hear any thoughts you might have! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

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Bonding

Arsenal Women x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Bonding night with the Arsenal girls

You're dressed in your special Auntie Stina Arsenal jersey as she assures your Morsa that everything is going to be okay.

Momma and Morsa have a special awards night thing that they have to make an appearance at so Auntie Stina is babysitting you. Your usual babysitters in Zećira and Jessie are busy tonight too so Auntie Stina gets to take you to Arsenal bonding night.

You're very excited and it's all you've been thinking about all week.

Momma and Morsa say goodbye to you and you instantly run up to Stina's car so she can get you clipped in and you can get to Captain Kim's house faster.

"Look who it is!"

Katie's waiting for you both by the door and she swings you up easily onto her hip and tugs at your jersey teasingly.

"A true gunner in the making! You'll play for us when you're older, right?"

You nod. "Yes!"

"Even if your mams want you to play for Chelsea?"

You pull a face, sticking out your tongue. "Not-Wolfsburg sucks!"

Katie laughs, delighted, as she gives you a high five. "That sounds right." She lets you climb down and scarper inside, toeing off your shoes in the entrance hall before following the sounds of music and talking further inside the house.

"Hi, Captain Kim!" You say when you see her," What's happenin'?"

Captain Kim laughs, her hand coming to rest of your shoulder as Jen wrestles with Beth on the floor.

"They're just being silly," She tells you," And trying to knock all of my things on the floor."

As if to prove the point, Beth crashes into a little side table with an ornamental vase wobbles precariously as she launches herself straight back at Jen.

"You should tell them off," You say," That's what my Morsa does when Erin and Guro are being silly in a dangerous way. She's the Captain like you're the Captain so you can tell them off if you want."

Kim laughs slightly. "That's a good idea. Captains do get to tell people off. Do you want to help me?"

"I'm not a captain though."

"But you are the big boss. I think that means you've got some captain powers too."

"Really?"

She nods. "Really."

"Okay!"

Captain Kim leads you over to where Beth and Jen are still wrestling. She whistles, shrill and high pitched and exactly the one Morsa uses when she needs to get Erin and Guro's attention.

"Stop wrestling in my house!" She orders before lightly nudging you.

"Yeah!" You say," 'Cause you're going to break something and then Captain Kim is going to make you do laps!"

From behind you, Katie chuckles.

"Yeah, you two!" She teases," Listen to Kim and the big boss!"

"Yeah!" You agree, stamping your foot so they know you're serious.

"Sorry, y/n," Jen laughs," We'll stop."

"Good," You say," Or else you'll have to run laps tomorrow."

You shriek as you're lifted into someone's arms. You're flipped upside down as Leah's hands attack your sides.

"Look at you!" She laughs as you shriek and try to wiggle away. "Little captain in the making!"

"My mummies are captains!" You say when she finally puts you the right way up.

"You've got it in your blood!" Leah proclaims, tickling your sides again," Me and Kim'll make you into a proper captain though! Arsenal style, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

You think Arsenal bonding night is a lot of fun.

Katie helps you make a pizza where you put your pepperoni slices in a crude rendition of the Arsenal badge and she takes lots of pictures of you winning at Twister.

You end up sat between Auntie Stina and Beth for dinner as Auntie Lina selects a movie for you all to watch while you eat.

"Beth?" You ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can we call Daan? I miss her at Arsenal."

Beth laughs, already digging out her phone. "I think quite a few fans would agree with you."

The phone rings a few times before Daan's face fills the screen. Daan is a very happy person, you think, because she's always smiling when she sees you. You smile too.

"Hey, y/n!" She says," What're you doing on Beth's phone?"

"Callin' you!" You answer," Auntie Stina brought me to bonding because my mummies are busy!"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I beat Leah and Captain Kim at Twister! I got chocolate as a prize!"

Daan laughs. "Good! Keep them humble!"

You giggle too. "Is Lyon fun like Arsenal?" You ask.

"It's fun," Daan replies," But I'm still learning the language. I'm sure it'll be more fun when I can speak French properly."

You nod wisely. "That's like when I came from Germany. I only knew a little English so I had to learn so I could have fun."

"It's exactly like that," Daan says," Hey, who knows, maybe you'll have to learn French too when you're older."

You think about that for a moment. You know when you're older, you really want to play for Wolfsburg. Arsenal too and maybe Barcelona as well but you'd never really thought about Lyon. You already know German and English so having fun at Wolfsburg and Arsenal should be easy.

If you went to Barcelona then you would have to learn Spanish. If you went to Lyon then you would have to learn French.

Your Momma tells you that you're very good at languages. She says she's always impressed by how easily you pick it up. Sometimes, she calls you a little chameleon because you speak your English like you were born here rather than with an accent like she and Morsa do.

You don't think it'll be too difficult to learn French if you went to Lyon.

Daan stays on the call for a bit longer before promising to send you her Lyon jersey and you migrate from Beth and Auntie Stina to the floor with Leah and Katie.

You drag a blanket with you, tucking it around both of them like you do when you have sleepytime with Jessie and Niamh. The movie is still playing but you're a little tired so you lean heavily into Leah and kick you feet up into Katie's lap.

You yawn.

"You tired, kid?" Katie asks and you nod.

"Gonna finish the movie though."

Leah chuckles, the force of it rocking your whole body as she softly cards her fingers through your hair. "I'm sure you will."

You're out like a light before the second act begins.

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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punkshort · 1 month

Text

somewhere to run | epilogue

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A glimpse into your life one year after the trial.

Chapter Warnings: fluff, language, alcohol use, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink 👀, dry humping

WC: 5.8K

A/N: thank you to all of you who came back week after week to feed into my delusions. I'm so glad there was an audience for this story because it kept me motivated to finish it and stay on track, so to everyone who commented, reblogged or liked... thank you!! ❤️

Series Masterlist

One Year Later

"Sarah!" you yelled up the stairs, craning your neck so you could hear.

"Almost ready!" she yelled back down. You hurried back into the kitchen right when the toaster popped up. Pinching the toast between your fingers with a hiss, you dropped both slices onto a waiting plate and sucked on the pad of your thumb as you turned around to grab the butter from the fridge. You heard her feet thundering down the stairs just as you were finishing up her breakfast. Turning around, you held out the plate to her right as she entered the room.

"Sorry! I overslept," she said, shooting you a grateful smile when she took the plate from your hands.

"No problem, you'll still make it to school on time," you replied, glancing at the clock before pointing to the stove. "Eggs," you told her, and she swiveled around to scoop some onto her plate before sitting down.

"Thank you," she said around a mouthful of food. You took a quick gulp from your coffee before it got too cold, then began pouring the rest of the pot into a thermos. Right on cue, Joel's heavy footsteps were the next to descend the stairs.

"Mornin', girls," he mumbled, fumbling with his tie as he walked. His hair looked disheveled and his eyes looked tired but you still grinned when you handed him the thermos. Giving up on the tie, he sighed with relief before taking a sip and winking at you over the cup.

"Here, let me," you offered, undoing the knotted mess and flattening the fabric back out so you could properly tie it for him.

He turned his head to the side so he could keep drinking his coffee without being in your way and eyed Sarah from across the room.

"Overslept?" he asked her, and she nodded tiredly.

"All set," you told him, flipping his collar back down and smoothing his dress shirt over his broad shoulders.

"Thank you, baby," he said softly before giving you a quick kiss.

"Eggs?" you asked him, turning around to fill your own plate with food. He took another sip of coffee as he flicked his arm out, his sleeve pulling back so he could check his watch.

"No time."

"At least take a granola bar with you," you said, opening a cupboard and handing him a little foil packet. He slid it into his pocket with the promise to eat it when he got to work, then looked over at Sarah again.

"Almost ready?" he asked, and she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth before nodding and standing up. You took the plate from her and rinsed it in the sink while she stuffed a binder into her backpack and zipped it shut.

"You can still drop me off at Jess's house tonight, right, Dad?" she asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. He froze as his brain tried to process what she said, working hard to remember if she had mentioned this before.

"What time?"

"Four. Right after school."

"Four..." he muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it. "Shit, babygirl, I don't think I can make it all the way on the other side of town by four, I got somethin' to take care of after work-"

"But Dad! We have a science project due Friday, and tomorrow I have practice-"

"I can do it," you offered from your spot against the counter, still holding your plate of half eaten eggs.

"You sure?" Joel asked, but you could already see the relief in his eyes.

"Yeah, of course. I'm working til three, then my night class starts at five. I can go in between, no problem."

"You got class tonight?" he asked. You and Sarah exchanged bewildered glances before you looked back at him.

"Yeah, Joel, it's Wednesday. I have classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Are you feeling okay?" you asked, growing a little worried. Now that you were thinking about it, he seemed more frazzled than usual that morning, and even though your lives were busy, he never forgot your schedules.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind, is all," he said, shaking his head and turning back towards Sarah. "Alright, let's get a move on. Don't wanna be late."

"I'll see you after school!" you called to Sarah as she walked towards the front door and shoved on her shoes.

"Thank you!" she called back before swinging the door open and disappearing outside.

"Thank you so much, baby," he said, cupping your face with both hands for another kiss, this time slowing down and savoring it.

"You're welcome," you said, pulling back with a grin. "Now, go."

He smiled and backed out of the room. "Love you."

"Love you, too," you said, turning around to survey the damage from breakfast. When you first moved in, you were concerned you would get in Joel and Sarah's way, that the little routine they had for so long would be disrupted by your presence, but it was becoming clear to you that wasn't the case at all. Sarah was very mature and independent, which was a huge help to Joel because for years, she would do a lot of the cooking and cleaning to help out, but when you moved in you began to take on some of those chores, allowing Sarah the time to enjoy just being a teenager. And to be perfectly honest, you didn't mind. You enjoyed being part of a loving family who welcomed you into their lives without hesitation. It was something you yearned for your whole life, and now you finally had it.

Tommy and Maria were extremely supportive of your new schedule. You had been taking night classes for the past six months at the local community college, looking to get your associate's degree and maybe see what kind of job that could get you because even though you loved working at the diner, it was back breaking work and you really didn't think you had it in you to be a lifer. Besides, the odd hours were less than ideal. You wanted to have a work schedule that matched Joel's so you could be home with him at the same time.

One huge thing you would miss about the diner was seeing Joel almost every day for lunch. It was bittersweet to think about one day quitting the job that brought you together, but you knew it would ultimately be worth it. Better hours, better pay, and no nights and weekends were the goal.

Right on schedule, you heard the front door open and Joel's deep drawl greet Maria behind the hostess stand before you saw him out of the corner of your eye make his way up to the counter. When you looked up, you were surprised to see he wasn't alone.

"Tyler!" you said with a grin, and the younger man nodded in greeting to you. About four months ago you were excited to find out Tyler Bates actually did end up calling Joel for a job, and of course Joel kept his word. Apparently, the Philadelphia police force was not a good fit for him.

You couldn't ever imagine why.

Texas was treating him well. Gone was the clean shaven, crew cut man you once met. Now that the south wrapped its arms around him, his skin was sunkissed, his hair a little wavy, and he even had a bit of stubble across his jaw.

"What's the occasion?" you asked as they took their seats.

Joel clapped Tyler on the back before looking up at you. "One of my guy's retirin' soon so I offered this one a promotion," Joel replied.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations!" you gushed, and you thought you saw his cheeks turn a little pink.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I told you, you don't have to call me that," you scolded playfully. "Especially during our double date this Saturday. You're still coming, right?"

"As long as this Hailey still wants to meet me," he replied, sounding a little nervous.

"Oh, she definitely still wants to meet you," you teased, and Joel chuckled next to him.

"She's been textin' her every night askin' what she should wear and-"

"Joel!" you snapped, cutting him off with a warning look, but he just grinned.

"What? It's true!" he laughed.

"You're gonna embarrass her!" you exclaimed, then turned to Tyler. "Ignore everything he just said in the past thirty seconds."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a little smile, then dropped his focus to the menu.

You shook your head at Joel, trying to come off as mad, but you knew you were failing by the look in his eye and the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"You're in trouble," you muttered lowly, and a look of excitement flashed across his face.

"Mm, I hope so."

Your eyes widened with embarrassment but fortunately, Tyler was a gentleman and pretended not to hear. You made an aggravated face at him before turning your head and quickly changing your tune.

"What can I get for you, Tyler?" you asked sweetly.

Hailey and Tyler hit it off instantly. You never set anyone up before, but they were both so sweet, you had a feeling they would make a good match. Hailey was the only girl in town who seemed to be on your side. Although most people moved on to the next exciting piece of gossip, your drama long forgotten by now, you didn't forget how she never treated you any differently, even though you were sure it would have been easy for her to do. She even left book club after she and the rest of the town learned the gritty details of your case. You assured her that Nikki never could have known the real reason behind your divorce, that you hid those details well for most of your life, but Hailey still wanted nothing to do with her or the group of women who ostracized you. It didn't end up mattering much in the end. A few short months after your trial, right around the time you moved in with Joel, Nikki found a job out of state and moved.

Instead of book club, the two of you started your own monthly club. Sometimes that consisted of a book you both wanted to read, other times it was going to dinner and the movies. It was nice to have a standing date with her and catch up. And when she mentioned last month how lonely she had been and how envious she was of your and Joel's relationship, you immediately thought of Tyler.

Tyler: the man who, aside from Joel, changed everything for you. Who stood up for what was right, even at great personal risk, and traveled all the way to Texas to apologize to you in person for not doing more. He was a good man, and he deserved to have someone, too.

"We're gonna go play darts, you guys want in?" Hailey asked, her eyes shiny and her cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol. You had picked Hank's instead of a nice restaurant, figuring it would help loosen both of them up, and you were right.

"You go ahead, we'll join you in a bit," you said, shooting her a discreet wink when Tyler wasn't looking.

"I don't think they'd even notice if we left," Joel murmured before taking a sip of his beer.

"No, probably not," you said, watching them from across the room. Tyler was standing behind Hailey, trying to show her how to properly take aim at the target.

Joel's phone buzzed in his pocket and he slid it out, subtly angling the screen away from you.

"Is it Sarah?" you asked when you noticed the look on his face. Michelle had done what she said she would and reached back out to Sarah, and while both of their schedules were busy, they occasionally found the time to meet up. This weekend was the first time Sarah stayed overnight in Austin with her mom, and even though Joel didn't say anything, you could tell he was worried.

"No, it's just Tommy," he said, putting his phone face down on table and looking back at you.

"Everything okay?" you asked slowly, picking up on some kind of nervous energy from him.

"Yeah, everythin's great," he replied with a grin, then leaned in to quickly try to change the subject. "You really think they won't notice if we leave? Can't remember the last time we had the house to ourselves."

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his gaze darken. "I think it might be a little rude if we don't say something-"

Joel stood up immediately and held out his hand to you. "Then let's say somethin'."

You stared at his hand before looking back up at him. "Are you serious?" you said with a little laugh, but he just kept looking at you expectantly. "Alright, fine," you relented, taking his hand and allowing him to help you stand. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and led you through the bar, nodding briefly at Hank before reaching the dart board.

"You guys good if we head out?" Joel asked, barely pulling their attention away from each other. Tyler looked at Hailey, giving her the opportunity to respond just in case she was uncomfortable, but she shook her head.

"Go! We've got a competition heating up here, and I'm determined to win," she said, smirking up at Tyler.

"Alright, have fun," you said over the music playing from the jukebox. Hailey caught your eye and gave you a look, and when Tyler went up to the board to retrieve the darts, you held up your thumb and pinky to the side of your head and mouthed call me before Joel turned you away.

"What's with the rush?" you asked when you stepped outside and the fresh air hit your lungs.

"No rush. Just wanna be alone with my girl, is that a crime?"

"I don't know, you tell me, sheriff," you teased, and he chuckled under his breath before opening his truck door for you. And even though he claimed there was no rush, he sure did seem to hurry around the front of his truck.

You studied the side of his face as he drove, your brows furrowed a bit at the way his eyes shifted nervously from the road to the time on the dash. His fingers anxiously tapped on the steering wheel at every red light and you tried to ignore it, but after the third red light and hearing him mutter curses under his breath, you couldn't take it any more.

"What's gotten into you? You're acting weird," you said.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are! You've been weird all week, actually. Is it because of Sarah? Don't be worried, I'm sure she's fine. It's good for her to spend some time with Michelle."

"I'm not worried 'bout Sarah," he said, and you pursed your lips but let it go.

When you pulled into the driveway, you caught the way Joel looked at the time and the front door before quickly turning the engine off and hopping out of the truck. He rounded the car and opened the door for you, but when you began to walk towards the mailbox, he stopped you.

"Where you goin'?"

"I'm getting the mail. I'm expecting some stuff from school-"

"We can get it tomorrow, let's go inside," he said, wrapping his fingers around your shoulders and you frowned.

"Why can't I -" you paused when a truck lumbered past the house, and even in the dark, you recognized it. "Is that Tommy?" you asked, but before you could get a good look, Joel forcibly turned you towards the house.

"No, I don't think so."

"What-"

"Baby, c'mon, please let's go inside," he begged, and by now you knew he was definitely up to something. You sighed and let him lead you up the porch steps, deciding not to make it any more difficult on him.

When he opened the front door you finally saw why he was so anxious to get inside. You were greeted with the soft glow of candlelight, and as you stepped inside, utterly confused, you noticed the red rose petals scattered over the floor. You racked your brain, trying to remember if you forgot a special occasion, but you were coming up empty.

"W-what is all this?" you finally managed to ask softly as you slowly entered the living room, noticing for the first time the bottle of champagne and two glasses placed on the coffee table next to a beautiful bouquet of roses already in a vase. Joel was suspiciously silent behind you as you continued to take in the scene. Was he really that excited to have the house to yourselves?

You turned around to ask him but the words got stuck in your throat when you saw him kneeling behind you, holding out a ring with trembling fingers.

Your hands flew up to your mouth with a gasp and your heart began to pound wildly in your chest, completely taken aback. Oh my god, this is it.

Joel took a deep breath. "Since the moment we met-"

"Yes!" you nearly shouted through your hands, making the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

"I got a whole speech planned," he said with a nervous laugh, but you shook your head and dropped to your knees with him.

"I don't care," you breathed, pulling his face against yours for a searing kiss.

He managed to break away for a moment, his fingers still pinching the ring. "Didn't wanna ask in front of people, I know what you said 'bout-"

You cut him off with another kiss, not wanting to think about your previous marriage in that moment.

"You could ask me in the middle of the grocery store with a twist tie and I would say yes," you told him, pushing your forehead against his. He gripped the side of your head, the ring getting tangled in your hair as he pressed his lips feverishly against yours again.

"I love you so much," he mumbled in between kisses.

Tears were beginning to form now that the shock was wearing off, but you tried to hold them back. "I love you, too," you whispered, then gripped his collar to pull him down. His hand cradled the back of your head as you eased yourself onto the floor, your lips refusing to leave his. Your fingers hurriedly went to the buttons of his shirt when he remembered the ring.

"Wait," he said, pulling back a bit, panting for air. He held it up and you eagerly held out your hand, both of you shaking a little as he slid the ring around your finger.

"Oh, I love it," you gasped, admiring the unique pattern of little diamonds surrounding a larger one in the center of a gold band.

"Yeah?" he asked with a smile, his eyes going soft. "Couldn't make up my mind. Finally had it custom made, took forever but it came in the other day-"

"You had it custom made?" you repeated in disbelief, and he nodded.

"Couldn't wait to ask you. It's why I've been so distracted all week."

"I love you," you said again, pulling on his shirt to close the gap between you. "God, I love you so much," you mumbled as your fingers resumed their work on his buttons while your lips drifted down his jaw, his stubble burning your sensitive skin in the best way.

"Love you too," he murmured, his mouth finding a home against your neck as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. "I've loved you for so fuckin' long. Just wanna make you happy, give you the life you deserve," he continued, his teeth grazing against your earlobe.

"You do make me happy," you moaned as you struggled to pull off your jeans.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, pushing himself up to hover above you, his chest heaving.

You shook your head and lifted your hips, bumping clumsily against him as you shimmied your pants down. "Here," you told him, watching his eyes travel down your now half naked body.

"On the floor?" he questioned, but sat back on his heels to work on his belt. You nodded, your eyes dark with lust as you stared at his bare chest, only looking away to yank your shirt over your head. He chuckled as he kicked his pants off and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him back down to you. "Okay, baby. Whatever you want," he said in your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Just want you," you whined, and your fingers came up to get tangled in his curls. He slipped his hand between your bodies and notched himself at your center.

"You got me, baby," he whispered, nibbling at your chin as he pressed forward, slowly stretching you open and making your jaw drop. "Got me forever. Always did," he added, his eyebrows pinching together the further he buried himself inside you.

"Oh fuck, Joel," you gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottomed out.

"Yeah? That feel good? Needed me so bad you had to have me right here, huh?" he growled in your ear. Your thighs tensed around his waist as you adjusted around him.

"Yes," you replied softly, gasping a little when you felt him pulse inside. "Want you everywhere. Can't get enough - god, you feel so good. Always feel so good," you rambled, knowing how much he loved it when you talked to him during sex. At first, you were embarrassed. You overthought what you should say, what sounded sexy, but you quickly realized it didn't matter. He loved it all.

He dragged his hips slowly, deliberately, building you up just so he could tear you apart. Savoring the sweet little moans that slipped past your lips as your walls squeezed around his cock and he was certain he would never tire of this.

"You're so beautiful," he said before crashing his mouth against yours messily. "Can't believe I get to spend my life with you," he added, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you against him, matching his thrusts.

You dropped your hands from his hair and pressed them against his chest, giving him a gentle shove. "Roll us over," you commanded, and he smirked.

"Yes, ma'am."

In the blink of an eye he ducked and rolled, pulling your hips with him and making you giggle when you found yourself straddling him.

"This is gonna fuck up my back," he warned you, shifting his shoulders as he tried to get comfortable on the floor.

"I'll give you a massage if it does," you promised, and his eyes lit up. He was about to say something smart when you began to roll your hips and suddenly, the words escaped him.

"Oh fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hands lightly guiding you, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. "Yeah, just like that, yeah... now bounce a little for me."

You did as he asked, your hands pressed flat against his chest as you bounced up and down, his eyes transfixed on the way your body glowed in the candlelight.

"So deep," you moaned, your head tipping back as your eyes closed, lost in the moment. "So good. You're so good to me, Joel. Ah!" you cried out as he began lifting his hips, thrusting up into you. He could feel the cool metal from your ring pressing into his chest and it only made him fuck up into you harder.

He quickly sat up, his arms circling around your waist and holding you tightly in his lap as he snapped his hips, little grunts and growls getting lost in each other's mouths, your tongues dancing together, desperately trying to get as close as possible.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered once you broke away, gasping for air. "Look at you. Gettin' all worked up. Couldn't even make it to bed, hm? Needed me to fuck you that bad, ain't that right?"

"Uh huh," you whined, your head falling forward, resting on his shoulder as you focused on his voice.

"That's alright, I'll give you anythin' you want. I'll take good care of you, baby. I'll give this perfect pussy anythin' she wants, too."

"Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your teeth pinching your bottom lip. Your eyes flew open when he hit that perfect spot and you gasped. "Right there! Please... please don't stop, don't stop," you gasped as you felt your cheeks begin to flush with heat.

"There? Yeah?" he panted, somehow managing to pound up into you with incredible force while sitting on his lap. You tried to respond but you couldn't. Your vision was going spotty and the heat pooling at the bottom of your belly was beginning to ignite. He seemed to understand because he kept up the pace, hitting that spot over and over while alternating between muttering filth and praise in your ear.

Takin' it so good. Such a good girl. Feel how hard you make me? I love you so much.

And maybe he got a little carried away, lost in chasing his own pleasure, not really thinking about what he was saying until...

"Can't wait to put a baby in you."

Your teeth clamped down on his neck, desperately trying to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you, forcing all the air from your lungs, his name barely a whisper on your lips.

He didn't even realize he said it out loud. He was too far gone, too close to his own release to think about anything else.

"I'm gonna come, baby, I'm g-gonna- fuck!" he groaned loudly, his stomach tensing and relaxing with each surge of his spend coating your walls until his body went lax, his shoulders drooping a bit and his arms loosening their grip around you.

"That was worth the backache," he finally mumbled, and you giggled from your place on his neck.

You kept expecting him to say something about what he said, but by the time you had untangled yourselves - you, gathering all your clothes and him, blowing out the candles - it didn't seem like he was going to mention it, so you let it go. And by the time you got upstairs, letting him wrap you up in his arms with your left hand splayed out across his bare chest, you had nearly forgotten all about it.

It must have been later than you usually slept. The sun was brighter than usual, streaming in through the windows and bathing you both in its glow. You were laying on your stomach, one leg hitched up towards your chest. At some point, Joel must have sought you out because his body was pressed flat against your back, his arm even resting on top of yours, fingertips grazing your ring as he slept.

Your ring.

Your eyes fluttered open so you could see it. Not wanting to disturb him, you tried to twitch your finger a bit so the stones would reflect in the light.

His nose nudged your shoulder blade, his face buried in your upper back, and you smiled. He was so close and so warm it made you never want to get up.

Then you felt his cock twitch against your leg and you bit your lip. It sounded like he was still asleep, his breathing hadn't changed, but his body was still reacting to you anyway, and the thought made you desperate for him again.

You tipped your hips back ever so slightly, just to see how deep of a sleep he was in. When he didn't respond, you wiggled your body a little more, flexing and stretching your limbs underneath him. His breath fanned over your shoulder, your hair fluttering a bit with each exhale. The ache between your legs was growing, so you ground your ass against him a little harder and you finally sensed a change in his breathing: he was waking up.

His fingers laced together with yours, your ring pressing into the palm of his hand and making him smile against your skin.

"Mornin', fiancée," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response as you continued to lightly grind up against him, feeling him harden against the curve of your ass. "What're you doin', baby?" he whispered, his fingers tightening around yours.

"Nothing," you replied innocently, still rolling your hips against him.

"Don't feel like nothin'," he grunted against the back of your neck.

"What does it feel like?"

"Feels like you need me to take care of you again," he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep as he began to roll his hips in rhythm with yours. A soft moan slipped past your lips, the throbbing between your legs intensifying at the thought of waking up like this every day for the rest of your lives.

Joel's hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds. He inhaled sharply and buried his face further into your back as he gently pet at your soaking heat, purposely taking his time and driving you wild. "Yeah, she needs me again, huh?" he said, his voice muffled. "Needs me to stretch her open 'n fill her up, ain't that right?"

"Yes," you whimpered, pushing your hips back into him, begging for it. And when you felt him press against your opening, his words from last night drifted back into your brain: Can't wait to put a baby in you.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes squeezed shut as he began to slowly push inside and you wondered how you went so long without him. How many years you wasted without knowing his touch. He was so perfect and sweet and kind and loving and now, he was all yours. Forever.

"Did you mean it?" you found yourself asking after he began to rock his hips into you from behind, slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"Mean what?" he mumbled, his voice sounding strained as you stretched and clutched around him.

"Did you really want to put a baby in me?" you clarified, suddenly feeling nervous. His hips stalled and his eyes shot open and the pause he took before replying made your heart flutter anxiously in your chest.

"Do you want that?" he asked, his hand holding your hip in place, effectively stopping you from grinding against him.

"Maybe?" you replied, your voice higher than usual and you were relieved you couldn't see his face because you weren't sure your nerves could take it.

He nibbled lovingly at your ear, his teeth dragging down your throat as he slowly began to move again.

"Then maybe I did mean it."

You breathed a small sigh of relief and you pushed your ass against him, matching his pace. "Yeah?" you said, wanting to hear more. Needing to hear more.

"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips gliding over your shoulder. "You'd make a great mom. And fuck, you'd be so pretty with my baby in you."

"Mm," your cheeks flared with heat at the fantasy, and the way his thrusts were coming a little faster made you think it turned him on, too. "Imagine the looks I'd get," you whispered, your fingers clutching around the sheets as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His hand wrapped around your knee and pulled your leg up higher. "Walking around - ahh - walking around town, growing your baby in my belly. Letting everyone see how good you take care of me."

He groaned, his hips snapping faster against your ass, unable to hold back.

"You like that? You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? If you weren't on the pill, I'd do it right fuckin' now," he growled in your ear, and you gasped.

"Oh fuck, Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your hands desperately reaching out for any part of him to hold. He noticed and he removed his hand from your knee so he could lace your fingers together again. He was fucking everywhere. Your whole body was covered by his, pinning you into the bed. His breath was warming your neck, his cock filling you up, reaching the furthest depths of you and you never felt more alive than when your orgasm finally took hold.

"Yeah, that's it," he cooed as you spasmed and whimpered beneath him. "Good girl. Fuck, yes, that's right," he panted, chasing his own high as you struggled to remain present. "So pretty when you come, s-so pretty, my pretty girl, love you so fuckin' much," he groaned, then his body stilled as he pumped you full once again, whispering your name weakly as he finished.

"Fuck me, baby," he moaned after he caught his breath. He lifted himself off you, your skin sticking together briefly before he slid out with a hiss. He collapsed on his back next to you, pulling on your shoulder so you flipped over and tucked you into his side. He tilted your chin up so he could slot his lips against yours, massaging them tenderly, lovingly, with a deep, contented sigh.

"You make me so happy," you told him, his fingers still pinching your chin. He grinned and kissed you again.

"I'm gonna spend my life givin' you whatever you want," he whispered against your lips.

Your hand drifted up to the back of his neck, your fingers tugging gently at the ends of his thick curls. His tongue slipped past your lips, slowly swirling around yours with a moan.

Just as you were starting to think you wouldn't leave the bed for the entire day, you heard two car doors slamming shut in the driveway and you both opened your eyes.

"Sarah's home," he said, pecking one more kiss against your lips before pushing himself up with a groan.

"Oh my god, does she know?" you asked, feeling bad you hadn't asked yet. He pulled on a pair of boxers and his discarded jeans as he looked at you admiring your ring.

"'Course she knows, talked to her 'bout it weeks ago. She's so happy, could hardly stop pesterin' me 'bout it," he said with a chuckle, then pulled a T-shirt over his head just as you heard the front door open. He tossed you your jeans as he headed for the door. "Better hurry up or else she's gonna come bargin' in here," he warned, then disappeared down the stairs.

You flung the covers off and quickly dressed, checking your hair in the mirror and glancing down at your ring once more before following Joel downstairs, excited to start the next chapter of your life with your new family.

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luveline · 8 months

Note

JADEEE I'M THE ONE WHO REQUESTED SPENCER X BADASS READER (the one where they read a book together). I LOVE IT😭😭 may I share some request again? maybe it is a day off and one of the bau member saw reader and spencer spend their day off together like a couple?? maybe they bump into them at the alley of supermarket because reader and spencer is going to cook dinner together???

thank you for requesting gorgeous!! ♡ fem!reader

Derek supposes he shouldn't be shocked. He knows you and Spencer are making a go of going steady, knows you see each other outside of work, even knows you're sleeping at one another's places between cases (Here, you forgot your badge last night, Spence).

It's hard to align his view of you with what he's seeing, is all. You're not spiteful, only stoic. Never cruel, but stern. And there you are on your knees by the cantaloupes tying Spencer's shoelace, mumbling something too quiet to hear.

"Do you like honeydew?" Spencer asks, thumbing along your forehead gently.

Derek's proud of him through the boggled haze. He always knew Spencer was a kind, loving man, and seeing him display that through small gestures has a brotherly pride swelling in his chest.

You tap Spencer's ankle and climb to your feet. You keep some of your usual attitude even with Spencer, refusing his helping hand. "I like it if you like it."

"That's not an answer." Spencer points to the dropping shelf of watermelon, their green stripes like shining emeralds, freshly misted. "We need one of these."

"We don't need one. You just liked when I cut them up for us."

"Yeah, I did. In Egypt they serve sliced watermelon with feta cheese."

"Yeah?" you ask, reaching for a melon. You turn it around to examine the bottom, looking for a yellowed spot where the watermelon would've laid in the field. "That's a choice. Doesn't sound as nice as our chocolate fondue."

"The first ever record of watermelons were in Egypt, so they'd know best."

You smile at him with lips pressed together, your eyes soft with fondness. All the women in Derek's life are beauties, but he thinks love has made you prettier still. He isn't surprised when Spencer reaches out and strokes the back of your hand.

"Hey, lovebirds," Derek croons.

Your shoulders don't stiffen, exactly, but you lose the relaxed droop you'd acquired as you and Spencer both turn to face him.

"Hey," Spencer says, "what are you doing here? I thought this place was too 'hokey-pokey' for you?"

"Hey, their coupons never work. What are you guys up to? Plans tonight?"

You withhold the typical None of your business, confessing, "Spencer and I are making breakfast for dinner."

You have your secrets, but you don't hide Reid. It's why Derek doesn't mind the occasional snap or frosty smile; your coldness is a shield rather than a weapon.

"And you guys eat watermelon and…" He peers into your shopping cart, miscellaneous items scattered throughout. "Massage oil?"

You glare at him. "Don't get any ideas. It's for his knee."

Derek smirks. "Breakfast of champions."

"We only just got here," Spencer explains your empty kart.

"Yeah, well if what I just saw is the norm, we can expect you'll both be home sometime tomorrow morning. He'll talk your ear off if you let him, you know?" Derek asks you.

Your glare softens. Derek might even say you're smiling at him. "I'd let him," you say.

"He's a lucky guy," Derek says. He gives Spencer a clap on the shoulder. "I'll see you kids Monday."

"See you, Morgan," Spencer says.

Derek walks away, basket in hand and determined to grab a carton of eggs and get out of here, but he slows when he hears Spencer talking again.

"Why do you act like you don't like him?"

You're too quiet for the untrained ear. Thankfully, Derek's highly trained. "I don't. Derek knows I like him. I just didn't want there to be any confusion."

"Confusion about what?"

"About who I want." You say it simply. Derek can imagine the steam funnelling out of poor Spencer's ears. "You can be easily deterred, Spence. I wanted you to know I liked you."

"I know now. You and Morgan would get along really well if you let him talk to you, you both care about–"

"You?" you ask. "Let's go look for that weird miniature toast you wanted, or we really will be here all night."

"It's not miniature toast, it's melba toast, and it's actually a kind of rusk–" His babbling fades out of range. Derek snorts and grabs a small carton of eggs. He knew you liked him.

Not as much as you like Spencer, that's for sure.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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tvdfan23 · 2 years

Text

I'm vegan.

Unless there's pizza involved.

#look all I'm saying is #if the graduate offers me a slice 👀🍕#then I must eat it #part of the graduation rules #going back to veganism tomorrow but im just saying #good weekend #good food

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ddejavvu · 9 months

Note

First off, I absolutely adore your writing! It’s sooo nice to read writing from someone the same age as me!

I was wondering if you could do Hotch x Reader where they’re dating and he comes over to reader’s apartment. They’re eating like a struggle meal and he’s just like absolutely not we’re getting you real food.

Totally take all the time you need, thank you! :)

hi thanks so much!! we're twins omg <3

Aaron was given a key to your apartment a long time ago, but you spend so much time at his that he barely uses it. He also typically texts you when he's coming over, which is why you're so bewildered when he comes through the door at close to nine at night.

You've got a mouthful of cold tortilla, butter spread in a thin layer over the dough. It's rolled to make it less of a mess to eat, but that makes it look like less food than it is, and it's already not a five course meal.

There's a bowl of sliced cucumbers resting on the plate you'd used for the tortilla, the last vegetable in your fridge. You'd had to forgo half of it for the wrinkles that had run up its side, but the half you cut up looks and tastes safe to eat.

Aaron freezes in a similar manner to yourself when he registers what you're eating, briefcase still in hand as he pauses with his back to the closed door.

"Is that a tortilla?"

"Mhm." You mumble around the food, "And, uh- with butter."

"A tortilla with butter." Aaron repeats, squinting, "And... cucumber?"

"It's all I have," You conclude drearily, "The grocery store is closed."

He narrows his eyes, then presses, "Is this your dinner?"

"Yes, Aaron," You huff, tired of his judgmental gaze, "I told you, the store is closed, and I ran out of things to eat, and I had a really long day so I just want to get in bed, and-"

"Okay, okay," He soothes, a hand out in front of him to placate you, "I'm sorry. I'm not judging you. Okay? I'm just saying it's not the best meal in the world. Why don't we go out and get something real, honey?"

"I don't feel like leaving," You grumble, tearing off another bite of tortilla, "It's fine, Aaron, I'll shop tomorrow."

"It's not fine," He insists gently, pulling his phone from his pocket, "I'll order something in, okay? What are you in the mood for - Thai? Chinese? Italian?"

"Pizza," You blurt grouchily, fueled by hunger and exhaustion, "I want pizza."

"Pizza it is," Aaron smiles, tapping away at his phone screen, "Medium? Your usual?"

"Large," You plead, and Aaron's clicked the button before you even try explaining yourself, "That way we can have leftovers for a while."

"Good idea," Aaron hums, finishing the order with his pre-loaded card number and leaning down to kiss you on your slightly butter-stained lips, "If you ever find yourself eating a cold tortilla again, please tell me? I think that counts as neglect if I don't buy you some real food."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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unholyhelbig · 5 months

Note

Part two of mafia nat???

Title: The Oversight [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 3079

Warnings: Hostage situation, brusing, mentions of child abuse, horrible grammar, and Quiznos

[a/n: Thank you all for the great response to the first chapter! I'm making this a thing, for sure!] Let me know if you're interested in being added to the taglist for this story!

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

“The usual, sweet girl.” You set the plate of pancakes down in front of Veronica. A happy face was painted against the golden surface with whipped cream, with cherries and two slices of bacon divided perfectly for hair. Your daughter never seemed to grow tired of the meal and would swallow down a glass of milk with just a bit of strawberry syrup.

Despite having completed the maze on the back of the kid’s menu at least a dozen times, she remained infatuated, kicking her feet back and forth as the orange crayon made its way through the boldened lines.

You tentatively moved a lock of brunette hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “Eat your food, kiddo. Big day tomorrow.”

Veronica nodded and started to fork down the smiling face. She didn’t speak much, a few words here and there, and that worried you enough to take the day off from work. You had found a speech therapist right outside of the city that accepted your HMO plan with enough fervor that you made the soonest appointment you could.

While you worked hard to shield Veronica from the life that you were determined to break away from, you were distressed. Kids were smart, they didn’t’ get enough credit. You were sure that she noticed the only meals she ate was at this diner and at school. The way that you were here all the time, dressed in the same uniform stained with ketchup and coffee. The way you fell asleep on the second-hand sofa for a few hours at a time.

“She your kid?”

While your back was turned, mind rushing with intrepid thoughts, someone had sidled up against the counter with an empty white mug, its mouth flipped to the ceiling. The blonde looked innocent enough, if not in despite need of the coffee she was asking for. Her accent was thick. Russian or Ukrainian, nothing you could fully place.

“She is a very good artist.” She tapped her finger against the orange drawing of a sunset in the corner of the placemat. “A lot of talent in this one.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the compliment, picking up the coffee pot. The blonde nodded and smiled back as you poured her a cup. “She gets it from her father.”

While you weren’t entirely sure that was true, you did know that the talent wasn’t from you. You never had the artistic eye. Veronica, on the other hand, was a quiet force to be recon with when it came to art. Even at a young age, you knew whole-heartedly that she had a future in it if she stuck with it.

“That so?” The woman took a long sip of her coffee, not flinching at the heat. “She should keep going. It’s important to have something to hold onto.”

The memory flickered in our mind as you drifted in and out of consciousness. It could have been a day, or a week, and your heart ached just as fiercely for your daughter as it always had. She would be in safe hands for now, you were sure. Your sitter knew about your devoted love, your resilience to make sure that Ronnie was okay. You were all she had, and being tied to a chair until your muscles felt like jelly was not a good sign.

You weren’t sure what had pulled you out of a fitful sleep for a few moments, but there was a light squeeze on your shoulder. Your head shot back and collided with something. There was a soft grunt, and your inhale burned your lungs. When you blinked awake, there wasn’t complete darkness. A less harsh light had been turned on.

The blonde from the diner was standing in front of you, robbing a tender spot on the center of her nose. “Ouch, that really hurt!”

“Sorry, I-“ you frowned, snapping your mouth shut. You weren’t going to apologize. You were the one that had been kidnapped, not the other way around. “What’s happening?”

Natasha had left you without another word, and you hated the way you missed her presence. You’d drifted off in the quiet and considered it a better punishment than Clints vicious blows to the face. The girl in front of you held a bottle of water up as a peace offering.

She cracked open the top, and even if you weren’t quite sure if something was in it, you didn’t care at the moment. She guided it to your lips, and a few drops dripped over your chin. It cooled the burning in your throat.

“Thank you,” this time you meant it. Natasha had made it clear that there was no good cop, but this was starting to look like your reprieve. You tested your luck. “If they’re going to kill me, why hold me?”

“They are not going to kill you. Natasha is a cautious woman. She did not get to where she was without crossing a few lines. You claim that you’re not on drugs and my sister wants to make sure that is truthful. Can you blame her?”

From a technical standpoint- no, you couldn’t. You searched for some type of resemblance in the woman and came up with nothing but a slight similarity in the slope of her nose. She smiled, crossing her legs, and sitting back against the chair.

“Let’s play twenty questions.”

You lifted an eyebrow, and it sent a shooting pain to your temple. “If I get one wrong, do you shoot me?”

She laughed, “No wrong answers. Can you believe that I want to get to know you? I’ll go first. My name is Yelena, and my favorite color is green. Forest green if you would like to get specific, which I would.”

“Dark red.” You said “I’m y/n.”

“Oh, I know. How long have you lived in the city?”

You rolled your shoulders back again. They were stiff. You’ve never been this uncomfortable in your life, and not just socially. There was a cool calmness about Yelena that put you at ease. Though, she was one of your kidnappers, and most-likely a member of the secret underground organization that had inexplicitly frequented the diner.

“My whole life. Not this part of town, though. East lower with my mom and my dad until my mom died and my dad got himself killed when I was seventeen.”

“Foster care?”

“For a year until I was old enough to be out on my own. I’m not going to let my daughter end up the same way. That was the hardest year of my life and if she loses me then… Her father isn’t around, but I’m afraid that going into the system would be best case scenario.”

“She’s six?” Yelena asked.

“And a half, but yes.”

“Non-verbal?”

You nodded again. This felt like a shitty game of twenty questions. Yelena already knew all the answers and you could still taste blood and the aching in your jaw. She tapped her fingers against her knee, uncrossing them and leaning forward.

The ceiling still stretched above you. There were rafters that you could barely make out in the darkness. You blinked so you wouldn��t cry. Still, when you spoke next, your words came out pinched and you couldn’t help but feel weak.

“The world is a horrible place, and the odds are already stacked against her, you know?” You sniffed to keep snot that you couldn’t wipe away from dripping onto your shirt already soiled with blood. “She’s a good kid. She’s funny, and smart, and I want her to have a life where she thinks everything is okay, even if there’s a possibility that it never is. Ronnie doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t need to know.”

Yelena swallowed hard and nodded. She stood and closed the distance between you. Her hand was warm against you skin as she tentatively wiped away the moisture on your cheek. She gave you the rest of the water. “Okay. Drink.”

You were foolish to trust her. There was something in the water that was tasteless but rendered you unconscious all the same. You blinked awake, not sure how much time had passed. Your mind was swimming relentlessly, being forced in and out of lucidity had done nothing for your resolve.

Sunlight, something you thought you would never see again, flitted through an open window. A cooling summer breeze accompanied the sight. You’d been freed somewhere along the way, and your gratitude wasn’t lost on you.

Dark purple bruises encircled both of your wrists. Your whole body ached, and you let out a low moan at the sudden blinking movement. “Oh… fuck.”

“That’s a beautiful sound.”

Your back was pushed up against a dark oak bedframe, heels shoving you back. There was a lightheadedness swirling around you. A nice bedspread was underneath you, and the room itself was dripping in riches.

It was large with floor to ceiling windows, the walls slathered in deep maroon paint. There was a wall of bookshelves filled with expertly bound books. Two chairs and a small cocktail table was set up in a beam of sunlight.

Natasha held a crystal glass of unidentified alcohol in her hand. The ice floated within the deep brown liquid as if it were afraid to make a sound. She wore a suit, one that hugged her sides. Her lips were painted red to match the walls and she tapped her nail against the glass, observing you.

Her words sent a pang directly to your core, and that embarrassed you more than your exhaustion. Blood flooded into your cheeks and the very corner of Natasha’s lip twitched in response. She set her glass down on the table.

You recoiled as she rose and transplanted herself on the corner of the bed. She was gentle with her movements as if you were an animal that she was afraid to startle. Natasha had a tight hold on her operations. She was nothing more than a myth. Simply the boss.

Somehow, she scared you more now than she did before. When you were tied to the chair, you were certain that you were going to die. But now, in this royal-style room, you were filled with questions about why she let you live.

“I don’t make mistakes, but unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the people who work for me.” She was glaring at the design etched into the duvet, gold embroidery. Her perfectly manicured fingers thumbed the flower. “You were profiled, and you were profiled wrong. I don’t go after single mothers, especially ones that don’t keep certain… habits.”

There was a sinking feeling that you weren’t meant to speak. This was the delicate moment during a hostage situation where the robber has a gun pointed at your head, the finger on the trigger and a burlap sack of money in the opposite hand. Your words would do nothing but loosen the safety.

“This is being dealt with, believe me.” Natasha looked up at you, her eyes fierce, a beautiful fern color that bounded off the darkness of the walls. “But you must understand, y/n, I am not known for my kindness, and I am certainly not known for my mercy. You still took the money, and you still owe me.”

You drew in a breath, opening your mouth to protest, but Natasha held up her hand and you snapped your jaw shut. There was a bit of amusement in her stare that you didn’t have the mental capacity to dissect.

“Yelena said that you know how to fight. Or, at the very least, take a hit. So, I’m not asking. I’m telling you that work for me until your debt is paid off.”

Natasha had gotten impossibly close to you. That same deep scent of mint filled your lungs. It wasn’t comforting, but it didn’t’ unsettle you anymore, and neither did her warmth. You winched when she reached up and grabbed your face, squeezing softer than Clint had, her nails still dug into soft bruising.

She whispered her words, breath hot on your lips. “You belong to me now, and I don’t always play nice.”

Natasha ‘not playing nice’ looked a lot like having a driver drop you off in front of your apartment without your shoes. The sidewalk was cold despite the hot day, and as you stared up at your unit, you swore that the curtains flickered. You blinked and squeezed the bridge of your nose immediately regretting it the second you felt the shooting pain reach your eardrums.

They had taken your keys, presumably to make copies, and the sweatpants that you were given were much too big around your waist. You had sinched them with a shoestring, just counting yourself lucky that they’d provided a change of clothes in the first place. Even the shirt was stained and had a logo on it for a defunct Quiznos in queens.

Your body threatened to give out as you took the stairs two at a time up to your apartment. You still didn’t’ have a grasp on how much time had passed, but it was evening when you left work, and the sun felt like a mid-day assault on your senses.

Frantically, you knocked on your neighbor’s door, wiping your sweaty palms against your pants. Natasha’s pants. More than likely- Clints pants. It took a few moments for the door to swing open, but when it did, you were flooded with relief.

Darcy had an eyebrow lifted at you. “Holy shit,”

You didn’t let her get another word in edgewise before you engulfed her in a hug. She let out a breath at the impact and after a few seconds, pulled you in closer. Darcy was a friend, someone you trusted enough to watch your daughter. There was a soft spot in your heart for her. You didn’t let go when she backed the two of you into the living room and let the door fall shut behind you.

“I was three seconds from calling the police, y/n.” she pulled back, squeezing your shoulders. “What happened to you?”

You were instructed on what to say, word for word. You’d repeated it twice to Natasha and once to the driver. Lying to Darcy, someone who was the equivalent of a lie detector. Her eyes were hard, her voice hushed.

“I got jumped by a couple of guys on the way out of the restaurant. I was stranded on the other side of town, no phone. I tried to get here as soon as possible but I got a little banged up. I’m okay, a little shaken, but okay.” You frowned, “What day is it?”

Your eyes searched the room for a clock, for anything that would give you indication, but Darcy, while one of the sweetest people you had ever met, was a bit scatter-brained. You trusted her with your daughter, and with your own life, but there were spare computer parts strung out across her coffee table, on the couch, and the television stand.

“Y/n, you’ve been gone for two days.” She lifted your chin with a curled finger, making a hissing noise as she sucked in a breath “Oh they got you good. You’re sure you don’t want to press charges?”

“More trouble than it’s worth.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I would love an icepack, though. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ve got frozen peas and corn, dealers’ choice. Ronnie finally fell asleep; I kept telling her that nothing was wrong but she’s too preceptive for her own good sometimes.”

It was a bad move, but you gave Darcy a thankful squeeze on the shoulder and moved down the hall to the guest room. It was the cleanest place in the house, reserved for visitors. Darcy still had zoomed in photos of computer chips. They were like little mazes without an escape, her personality shining through.

Veronica was laying on top of the duvet, curled up in a blanket that was typically strewn across the base of the bed. She wasn’t asleep, her tempered gray eyes flicking to the door and then lighting up when she realized that it was you. You leaned against the doorframe, warmth flooding you.

You wrapped her in a bone-crunching hug, squeezing her into you as if you never wanted to let her go. She smelled like Darcy’s shampoo, a light floral concoction that comforted you. Ronnie’s hand squeezing the fabric of your borrowed shirt.

“Hi, baby” you pulled back slightly, enough room for you to give her a kiss on the forehead, pushing back ringlets of curly hair. “I missed you.”

Her nose scrunched up and her little fingers ghosted so softly over the pulsing bruises on your face. You never wanted her to see you like this, for anyone to see you like this, but at the moment you didn’t care. Having her in your arms was enough to erase all of that doubt.

“It’s alright. I’m alright,” You assured, and she crunched her nose again. “Oh, you think I stink?”

You probably did. You’d been strapped to a chair for 48 hours, nearly vomiting up what little food you’d consumed the night of your abduction. You’d sweat through your clothes, and the borrowed ones weren’t much better in the scent department.

“Too bad, little one,” you poked at her sides, eliciting an infectious giggle. “You’re stuck with me, stink and all.”

You let yourself go slack against her, trapping her under one of your arms. Veronica playfully tried to shove you off and you let out a grunt at each attempt. Eventually her arms wrapped around yours and she settled into you.

Maybe some sleep wouldn’t do you bad. Your body was about to give out, and the only instructions you’d gotten from Natasha other than the white lie of your injuries, was to hang tight and heal until she contacted you, and she would contact you.

“I didn’t know which one you wanted, so I brought both.” Darcy said from the doorway. You mumbled into the pillow in response, nothing legible. “Oh, we’re cuddling, or is this a hostage situation?”

You winced internally at the words, but sighed contentedly when you felt the weight of the frozen vegetables against your shoulder blades. You melted into the pillows, the bed dipping down as Darcy laid on the other side of Ronnie, as you drifted off to sleep.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toocreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Black widow #Black widow x reader #Mafia au #Mafia boss au #Mafia Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfic #Yelena Belova #darcy lewis

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hazenllas · 5 months

Text

Bewitched || Hazel Callahan

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x fem! Reader

Contains: fluff, mentions of alcahol/drugs (I tihnk that might be it)

(Apologies any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language)

Inspired by "Bewitched" by Laufey!!<3

Summary: You never quite understood why everyone around you was so deeply inlove with their partners until you met Hazel Callahan.

You were in your room while working on some extra homework Mr G gave you that was due the next day. You were laying on your bed staring at your paper. You were a bit distracted and drifted away for a moment until you felt a light tap o a pencil against your forehead. You look up in surprise blinking your eyes lightly and you look up at the girl infront of you. "You alright there? You kinda left me for a second." Hazel laughs looking at you with her big blue-ish/green-ish eyes. "O-oh yeah im good haze." You respond back, still in thought. You have had a giant crush on hazel since the first grade. You admired her dearly. You both did everything together and you enjoyed every last bit of it. You both knew the other was gay but you were bestfriends. You didn't want to ruin that. Hazel was your bestfriend and you couldn't handle losing the only person who you actually felt happy with.

"Y/n why don't we take a break? We've been at this for like 3 hours." Hazel says getting up from her spot. You nod and you both walk into your kitchen. You didn't have a very big house, but it was enough for you and your mom. You go into the fridge and find a bag of apple slices. You pull them out and drop them into a blue bowl. You bring the apples to Hazel who was in the dining room and hand them to her. "Here you go Haze" you say cheerfully, smiling down at her sitting figure. "Why thank you my lady" Hazel replies back, getting the bowl from your hands. You know that small comment shouldn't have made your heart flutter but it did. You both eat your apple slices while Hazel talks about the family dining party she was forced to go to the next day. "Y/n I really don't want to wear a dress. Like I'd rather die than wear anything like that." Hazel says making a disgusted look. You laugh at her. "Hazel, it'll be okay. It's just one night an after that you can throw it in the garbage!" You reply to her grabbing an apple slice and popping it into your mouth. As soon as Hazel is about to answer, you hear a turn on the doorknob and immediately know it was your mother. She walks into the house with a drunk-ish look plastered on her face. "Shit you gotta go Hazel I'm sorry" you look at her and give her a big hug. "Okay okay bye Y/n I'll see you tomorrow at school?" Hazel asks looking at you. "Of course Haze, okay bye" You reply pushing Hazel out of the door. "Who is that girl?" Your mom asks sitting on the couch. "Mom that's Hazel. Remember?" You reply looking at your mom. "Oh yeah that girl you always talk about? You seem to like her y/n" your mom says not paying attention to you. "Oh yeah um-" "Y/n, it's okay if you like her. I will support you either way, I promise. Now go get me another beer." Your mom says going to lay onto the couch. "Yeah yeah um sure mom." You reply with a smile. Your mom wasn't usually this nice. You grab a beer from the fridge and hand it to her.

You get into class and sit right behind Hazel. Something that you noticed a lot lately is that your mind is only circled around Hazel and only Hazel. You can't last a minute without missing her when shes not around. Youve obviously liked her for years but now its different. Every girl around you has fallen in love. and you crave that badly. You crave that feeling with Hazel. You look up at Hazel to already see her turned around in her seat smiling. "Hey Y/n, i was thinking maybe tonight could i come over? My mom is going to have her new boyfriend over and im not feeling like hearing my mom moan some random man's name all night." Hazel says chuckling a bit. "Sure Hazel, my mom won't be home so we will be good." You giggle twirling your pen around. She nods and turns back to her origional position.

After school you get home and begin cooking dinner for you and your mom. You make some mac n cheese and put some in a bowl for your mom. Right as you begin eating your food, you mom comes into the kitchen with a cigarette in her left hand. "I m going to be going out don't do any kinda stupid shit while im gone." Your mom says grabbing her bowl and walking out of the door. as soon as your mom slams the door shut you run to call Hazel and give her the sign to come over. You wait patiently for her arrival and tap your spoon against the empty bowl. You hear a soft knock agains the door and immediately know it Hazel. Your eyes light up and you run toward the door. You open it to see the taller woman infront o you. "Hey haze!" You say excitedly. "Hey,love. " Hazel responds patting your head softly. "Do you wanna watch a movie?" i have some extra popcorn packets on top of the fridge!" You ask Hazel walking towards the living room. Hazel nods and runs to sit on the couch. You yell for Hazel to find a movie and you begin making popcorn. You pop the packets in the microwave and wait. After you tear open the bag and pour the popcorn in two purple bowls. You jump ono the couch and give Hazel your popcorn.

After the movie, you both just look up at your ceiling, bored to death. "Hey wanna go out to the streets? we can take a little walk?" Hazel asks looking down at you. "I mean sure? couldn't hurt" You answer hopping up from the couch to put your sneakers on. You both walk to the door and you walk out of the house. You live close to the city part of your town so you were surrounded by city lights and multiple tiny shops. You both take hold of each other's hands and start running down the streets. Everything felt unreal. you were both dancing and messing around that nothing else felt important. The sun was down by now s it was just both of you surrounded by the dim street lights. you start giggling until Hazel comes to a start. you stop as well and she takes a step towards you. Your body tenses up as she looks at your pink lips. Her eyes look so sparkly. The world freezes around you as she leans in to kiss you. your hands instantly go to her neck as hers go to your waist pulling you in closer and closer, You hum into the kiss and begin kissing her back. You eventually pull away an stare at her. "It's getting late. i better go. Good night, Y/n." Hazel whispers kissing your forehead. You are still frozen in your spot until you look back to see Hazel's figure dissapearing into the night. You couldn't beleive it. You just KISSED Hazel. your mind went blank and you began walking home.

Since that day, you fell more in love with Hazel. So much to the point that you missed her even when she was standing right infront of you. You were so bewitched by her that it was like she was controlling your every thought and movement. You could only focus on her. You wanted a future with Hazel. Since that day you both still hadn't talked about the incident and didn't confess the obvious feelings you had toward each other. But today you wee going to o it. today you were going to tel her how much you love her.

After the last period ended, you saw Hazel walking outside of the school doors. You run up to her and tapped her shoulder. "Oh hey Y/n Whats up? Hazel asks you, taking off her headphones. "Can we talk for a moment?" You ask. "Yeah sure lets go to the side over here." Hazel guides your hand towards the brick wall on the side of the school. "Haze, i need to tell you something. something ive been keeping from you for a while. Just promise me this won't ruin our friendship?" You ask Hazel with teary yes. Yours and Hazel's friendship was one of the only thins you cherished most and you didnt want to risk losing it over some stupid little crush you had on your best friend. "Yes yes i promise. Just let it out Y/n." Hazel says holding your shoulders. Hazel, i like you. i like you a lot. matter of fact i am in love with you. and i have been for such a long time. You make me feel like im able to be myself around you. I don't know, im sorr-" You ramble until Hazel leans in to kiss you hungrily. "Ive heard enough. fuck- i like you too Y/n" Hazel whispers against your mouth. After a bit, you both pull away and hazel lifts your chin up with her pointer finger. "You have bewitched me, Y/n." Hazel says before latching hr arm around your waist an heading to her car.

Tags: @vster0769

#bottoms hazel #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fluff #bottoms movie 2023 #ruby cruz #hazel bottoms #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan #bewitched #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #wlw post #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #sapphic love

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wannabeanotter · 1 month

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I am always working lately it seems. Running from one job to another. I’m so envious of those men who seem to just be able to let themselves go. To not do what’s expected of them. Think you can help me relax a bit and get rid of some of my responsibility?

You wanna let loose? Sure bro!! First off, have a drink! It's on me.

Now, I've got some bad news. You're never going to set yourself free when you have a corporate structure to answer for, yknow? So I've taken the liberty and had you fired.

Aww, don't look at me like that. Here, have another drink

The second thing is your brain. You're too, well, how do I put it... motivated. You keep on thinking about things like "goals" and "consequences". Loser shit, not enough instant gratification. So, don't worry bro, I just turned all of that off. You want a beer? just drink one, no more fears about hangovers and "obligations" tomorrow. That pizza looks good, right? Eat another slice. Eat 5 more slices. Who gives a shit if you've already had enough food for 2 men today.

Wait, what's that? You feel weird? Like your body? Well yeah, duh, actions have consequences.

Oh right, I forgot I blasted that part of your brain. I guess you'll just have to live with whatever happens

Yeah yeah, I know, shit sucks. But I guess all those calories started to add up. I said I'll help you loosen up, not your waistband.

The hair? I don't know what your talking about bro. Have you ever seen a fucker like you who wasn't hairy? Didn't think so. This is all natural. This is all right.

Well, nearly.

There's one last problem bro, even lazy dudes get their shit together; even pigs like you can stop eating, can get a job again, maybe even start working out. In my mind it just aint permanent enough.

So, I think I'm gonna give you something else. Something that can sap up any little sliver of focus you manage to squeeze out. Something that's going to eat up every minute of your life from now on.

Oop, there is goes. Do you feel that? Your mind is going somewhere else and it won't be coming back anytime soon

Tell me when you work it out ;)

From now on, you'll be spending every waking moment thinking about your cock, playing with it non-stop. You wanna fuck anything and everything you see, don't you?

Good luck getting your job back now bro ;)

#bearification #weight gain tf #hairy tf #bear tf #dumber

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oncomingnight · 8 months

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Soy Libre!

Yandere! Luchador x Fem Reader ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Ricardo Aguilar was the name of the incredibly boisterous and passionate man you fell in love with. He was mainly known for his demanding performance in the ring and his strikingly designed costumes. Ricardo always knew the career path he was destined to pursue, as he always went in head first when it came to going towards what he wanted, as his desires were far from anything he could conceal.

Especially when it came to the person he loved most in the world, you.

Ricardo is incredibly forward when it comes to expressing and sharing his affection towards you. He'd be seen giving you passion filled kisses as he cups your round face, seating you on his lap as the two of you lounge in his changing room, wrapping his tatted arm around your waist as he fails at attempting to keep his hands from wandering.

He takes immense pride in the adoration he holds for you, he feels completely tethered to you, and he couldn't want anything more. Everyday that the two of you spend together is a chance for him to show you just how much he truly loves you, how your entrancing presence builds walls around him that he wants no part in escaping.

Ricardo doesn't find humor in knowing that his opponents use you against him, as his weak spot isn't a specific area on his body, but rather a person. He will treat his opponent with an excessive amount of malice and damaging force, not caring about their irritating 'machismo' act. By the end of the match, his darkly colored coils of hair will be sticking to his swarthy toned skin, not a drop of his blood being spilled.

He highly enjoys being able to cook for you as his father taught him how to properly prepare traditional cuisine and how to nicely set a table. The joy that fills his beating heart when he sees you close your eyes & hum in contentment after taking a bite out of something he cooked for you is better than anything he's ever experienced.

What could possibly be better than nourishing and being attentive towards the love of his life?

Ricardo has a high spice tolerance as many of the foods he ate growing up contained grounded up spices. He enjoys eating gorditas filled with spicy meat stew along with an abundance of slick nopales, Tostadas paired with carefully prepared ceviche, but, his overall favorite is some menudo topped with chopped up jalepenos & onions, served with a sliced lime on the side.

Don't worry your head about it, though, he won't depend on you to cook all of that as he wouldn't even want you to. He wants to be the one to take care of you and prevent you from unnecessarily lifting a finger for a task.

He is the type of boyfriend to take an incredible amount of photos of you, it doesn't matter if you aren't dressed up and just lounging around the house. You'll hear the fast paced clicks from the colorfully decorated digital camera he carries around along with his flustering praises towards you.

"Ay, mirate, mami. Te miras tan bonita con tu pelo suelto."

Ricardo owns a photo album filled with photographs of the two of you together along with solo pictures of you. He decorated the cover of the book with pastel colored stickers, gems, ribbons and writings written in colorful marker. Many of the photos of you are taken with a Polaroid, the photograph being framed with a film adorned with adorable caricatures. Several of the photos are labeled with dates below them, but he will cherish one of them in an incredibly strong manner.

12-6-23 (The day she said 'yes'.)

Hello everyone, I'm incredibly grateful to be back and writing for you all. This specific piece was inspired by an upcoming movie by the name, "Cassandro", a film about an amateur Mexican wrestler from El Paso, Texas, an eventual incredible icon in the hispanic & latino community. I'm going to see this movie tomorrow and I'm very excited as the trailer pulled me into the story by every frame that came on screen. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and never hesitate in reaching out to me.

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astonmartingf · 1 month

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YOUR GENTLEMAN ; LH44

— a slice of domesticity as you experience living with lewis for the first time

amgf set during the pandemic, nico rosberg mention, yay!

masterlist

Living with Lewis in Monaco definitely had its perks, but it was also coupled with drawbacks.

When you moved in, you thought it was a short stint but the few weeks turned into months, and soon you found yourself spending the whole year with him.

In the beginning you definitely found more pros than cons, living in Monaco is like a dream, especially since it was with Lewis, it only made it more special.

But as you spent more time, you found yourself growing anxious, and empty. Isolated from your family and friends, away into a foreign country, where you barely knew anyone.

"Are you sure you're okay with me going to Nico's?" You ask Lewis for the umpteenth time. Opening up last night how you felt yourself slowly going insane staying indoors. That's when Lewis suggested that you visit Nico and his family downstairs.

"I'm sure, look we've been friends since forever, and I know that you miss Nico and his family. I'm busy going to races, and you're stuck here. It's okay." Comforting your worries away, Lewis pulls you into a small hug assuring you that it's all good.

"I do miss Nico, I haven't seen him since he left you know, and you— you're both awkward together."

Lewis sends you a pointed look, "We're working on it okay, it's not like I avoid him every time I see him."

You scoff in reply, "As if you give the universe a chance for you to meet. You're always avoiding him, you literally live in the same building together."

Lewis shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with your sentiments, "You know what I'm going to walk you over to Nico's tomorrow and talk to him just to prove to you I'm not awkward with him."

"You're acting like I'm a kid handing me out on a play date! Also that's not counted since you're just going there to prove a point to yourself that you aren't affected."

Pushing a finger in front of your lips, Lewis shushed you pushing you towards your bedroom. "It's time for us to sleep, we both have a busy day ahead."

Rolling your eyes, you were met with a closed door. Following the sounds of Lewis' slippers shuffling back to his bed.

Despite being annoyed you can't find fault with him, you both had a busy day tomorrow with you spending time with the Rosberg's and Lewis with a flight to wherever the next race is.

Spending time with Nico and his family definitely boosted your mood, often forgetting about Lewis as he's constantly in and out of the country. But instead of moping in his apartment you find yourself looking forward to his arrival.

You avoid messaging Lewis during race weeks, keeping to yourself and leaving the F1 Channel playing in the background for any updates. It's nice to keep Lewis focused on the track but it also means that whatever you see on television, is all the information you have on him.

And during inadequate race conditions you're constantly stressing yourself, every yellow flag, weather update, red flag, pit stop, and other potential crashes have you on your toes.

Yet somehow, Lewis always finds a way to comfort you even if he is miles away from you. Immediately answering the radio about his updates (if he is a part of the crash) it's as if he's constantly assuring you that he is doing fine inside the car.

One time you were eating dinner after a long day with Nico's daughters, you find yourself looking forward to coming back to Lewis' apartment. Which at this point is no longer his only, it's a shared space for you two, mostly yours as you spend more time in it than him.

Cooking up something simple, you sit in solidarity finding peace in your little set up. Placing the ceramic bowl you designed with Lewis a few years back on the coffee table at the living room, instead of eating in the dining area, watching a replay of Lewis' dashboard from a previous race.

It feels like he's beside you, you find yourself listening to him as he talks with his engineers, watching his hands grip the steering wheel going lap over lap, doing what he does the best.

You end your days the same, until Lewis comes back. And it happened to be one of those days. The bell catches you off guard from taking a bite of your dinner, looking up, you find the door swing open revealing Lewis from behind.

"OH MY GOSH!" Standing up from the floor your legs stumble at the speed of your reaction. Throwing yourself at Lewis who dropped his bags at the entrance, forgotten as he wrapped his arms around yours.

"OH NO! I didn't cook dinner for you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" Breaking from the hug, you smack his arm scrambling to the kitchen for a last minute meal.

You hear the sound of Lewis' laughter behind, your heart warming at the sound of his presence immediately filling the empty space in the apartment. "You don't have to cook me anything, I can make myself food."

You feel Lewis behind you as you shake your head in disappointment. "That's not it, you just came home you must be starving– how about you have my meal down there in the living room. It's fried rice, it's vegan I was about to eat so it's still warm and I can make something real quick so you can rest and-"

You were cut off with Lewis feeding you a spoon of what was supposedly your dinner. "Calm down sweetheart, we can share the bowl if you really want me to eat that bad."

A frown forms on your face, deep in thought, slowly chewing the spoonful of food, before staring into Lewis' brown eyes.

Dragging him towards the living room, you push him into the sofa before grabbing the bowl of fried rice off his hands. "Are you not hungry? You don't have to eat if you're not! You know what you should sit down and rest, or do you want to take a short bath? I can-"

"I can do those things myself. You're stressing over me when I'm at races, and when I'm here you're also stressing yourself over me. You're supposed to relax." Softly grabbing your hands, Lewis pushes you next to him on the sofa.

"I can't help it you know. It's instinct at this point. When I first started living here you basically took care of me when I was feeling down, and now I'm doing the same. We need to take care of each other Lewis, I'm basically responsible for you."

Nodding slowly in agreement, Lewis grabs your hands holding it into his, "And I'm also responsible for you, which I'd like to think is more important than me. I can't have you stressed over your time here, imagine what your parents will say- God forbid, what my parents say."

You gasp, laughing at his statement, "My well being is more important? I think not, you're literally out there racing and going out- imagine Toto Wolff calling me because you're not in perfect condition."

"Then let me handle it. I doubt Toto has anything bad to say about you." Lewis mumbles under his breath, but you catch his statement.

"What would Toto Wolff know about me? What have you been talking about Lewis? I swear if you're spreading that I'm not taking care of you, I'll actually reveal to the world that you're still awkward with Nico."

Your threat seems to leave little to no effect then you expect, but at least you got him laughing.

Happy drivers mean good results.

"And you don't have to tiptoe around me, I doubt anyone has the balls to say that to my face except you- maybe Seb, but it doesn't matter. You don't have to worry about me, my racing, or my relationship with Nico."

Your eyes squint at his statement, still not believing him. His eyes meet yours, not giving up.

"Fine." You lower your gaze first.

"Let me draw you a bath though." Before Lewis could complain, you march towards the bathroom. Behind you, you hear Lewis laughing, you can see him shaking his head in disbelief.

"After that you better finish your dinner, then tomorrow we can do something together."

You smile to yourself, nodding in agreement. Despite the circumstances, you'd rather spend your time with Lewis like this. At the end of the day, even if you're miles apart from each other you will always come back to each other.

#f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine

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plutowrites · 3 months

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Of Magic

note: whew dusted off the ole keyboard for this one. if i'm rusty, you gotta allow it. i love this one sm. because i love nanami kento. that is all.

pairings: dad!nanami x (fem) reader

contains: fluff. nanami being the best duh wbk. modern au.

You hear a faint scraping noise from the kitchen as you quietly enter your home, holding your breath while gently closing the door behind you. It's 9:53 PM, and although wishful thinking has you hoping the girls are fast asleep in their beds, you know they're probably waiting for you to come and kiss them goodnight. In your opinion, Kento outshines you in almost every aspect of parenting, but bedtime belongs to you. He just can't do stories like you can—nothing beats the silly voices you give to each character. Your voice range is impeccable.

However, it is late, and you've had multiple conversations with your children about not waiting up for you tonight; one when they had just woken up, another during breakfast, and the last reminder during the car ride to school before dropping them off. They know very well that you had a company event to attend outside of work hours and wouldn't be home until late at night. But still, a small (horrible) part of you wanted them to still be awake, just to hear their cute giggles and feel their tiny, warm hands wrapped around your neck in a tight hug.

"How'd it go?" Kento asks, closing the lid over the Tupperware filled with tonight's dinner, which looks (and smells) like beef and broccoli stir-fry. You stand in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face.

Instead of answering his question, you point to the food in his hands. "They ate the broccoli?"

Nanami turns to face you and frowns. "Of course they ate the broccoli."

"What?! They never eat broccoli when I'm around."

"That's only because you don't eat broccoli, honey. You're their hero; they wouldn't even touch chocolate cake if dearest mommy turned up her nose at it."

"Dearest mommy, huh," you repeat after him, a grin slowly spreading across your face. Kento wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily, pulling you into him and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"They should be asleep—"

"Nice."

"But they're probably not," Nanami finishes. You lean your head back to look at him. The beginnings of a smile dance on the corners of his lips.

You fake gasp. "How naughty."

"Soooo naughty."

"I'll go check on them when I go up there to change my clothes." Kento lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. Noting the exhaustion on his face, you add, "You should rest now that I'm home. I can pack the girls' lunches for tomorrow too."

He shakes his head. "They're already done, but did you know they're really into star shapes now? It was just hearts last week. I can do hearts. I did hearts like a pro, actually."

"Are stars really that hard to do?" You ask, tongue in cheek.

He shoots you a look. In your husband’s defense, he really did cut hearts into foods like a pro. Every single item that went into the girls’ lunch boxes that could be carved into the shape of a heart, was in the shape of a heart. You always watched Kento from the couch in the living room as he meticulously sliced and diced away to make his girls happy.

You pat your hand across one of his cheeks and coo, "You're the best dad ever, literally." You draw out the word literally, eliciting a snort from Nanami.

"I had to ban that word today."

Now it’s your turn to laugh—your oldest daughter learned the word 'literally' in school this week and hasn't stopped using it since. It's sort of hilarious how she sneaks it into every other sentence. You tilt your head to the side and reply in the most serious tone you can muster, "Thank you because it was literally driving me, literally, insane, literally."

A chorus of giggles erupts from the top of the stairs, followed by a thundering rumble of footsteps descending. The moment in the kitchen, interrupted.

Nanami shakes his head gently and sighs, "Hmm, I wonder if they’re awake."

You grab the back of his neck, yank him closer, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "My babies are spoiled like little princesses. They need entertainment to go to sleep, and I am their jester. I bid you farewell."

"You’re going to read them a bedtime story?"

"Yes, I am going to read them a bedtime story..."

"Now? At 10:00 PM? And you call me soft..."

“You are, don’t even start.”

After a beat, Kento says softly, “You're so good to them, you know? They’re so lucky to have you.”

Hearing those words from him stops you in your tracks. They wouldn't mean nearly as much coming from anyone else as they do coming from Kento, simply because he is the best father.

He’s so patient, and kind, and understanding. He lets the girls wear whatever madness they want, and is completely fluent in their ramblings and mumbles— far better than you. He knows exactly how they like their oatmeal, and memorized the milk to cereal ratio they must have in their bowls or else the world stops for them; he knows exactly what to say when they're feeling upset to calm them down.

He learned how to bake white chocolate raspberry muffins because it’s their favourite. He learned how to do funky hairstyles just because a crazy hair day at their school was on the horizon. He even learned how to patch holes in their clothes instead of telling them not to lay and roll around in the wood chips at the park because he couldn't bear to cut into their fun.

If Kento didn’t know how to do something, he learned. He was always trying.

To you, your husband is a hard-working, dedicated, outrageously beautiful force of a man.

To your children, he’s nothing short of magic.

#jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk fanfic #pluto writes #for the first time in a decade

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masonmyluv · 5 months

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Birthday present - Pedri Gonzalez

A/N: A little something I wrote for his bday🤭 Happy birthday to this cutie aka Pedri Potter Gonzalez Lopez 💙🎉

Warnings: smut 18+ 🔞🔞🔞

"Pablo, I told you I don't want to celebrate"

"But it's your birthday!"

"We have an important game tomorrow" Pedri said. "So? We should at least sing you happy birthday" Pablo said, dragging Pedri inside the locker room. Pablo double-checked your text earlier, saying that you landed safely and were about to pick the cake.

"Happy birthday!!!" Everyone yelled when Pedri entered the room. "Yeah thanks guys" he smiled. "Happy birthday my guy" Ferran said, hugging him. "W-what..." Pedri was at loss of words when he noticed you behind Ferran's back. "Surprise" you giggled. "How... you..." he was at loss of words as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I feel betrayed" Ferran joked. "Missed you" Pedri whispered into your neck. "Missed you too, my love" you said, pecking his lips. "Happy" kiss "birthday" kiss "to the best" kiss "boyfriend" kiss "in the world" kiss.

"Okay get a room" Ferran shouted. "You brought cake?" Pedri asked. "Yes, and everyone is allowed to eat" Xavi said, already on his second slice, which he thought no one saw, but you did. Hehe. Everyone sat down, eating cake, all except Pedri. He was looking at you and playing with your fingers. "You okay? The cake is really good" you said, mouth full of cake. "Yeah... just happy you're here" he said, kissing the top of your head. "You don't seem really happy" Pablo butted in. "Tomorrow I'll be at the game wearing your t-shirt" you whispered. "And tomorrow I'll give you the other present" you added so that no one could hear. "Now he's smiling" Pablo smirked. "I wonder what you told him". "Nothing" Pedri replied too fast. "Mhm" Pablo said. You shot him a look, but couldn't be mad at him. After all, he was the one who helped you plan the surprise for your boyfriend, so you were thankful to have a friend like him.

—— day of the game ——

"Good luck, guapo" you whispered, kissing him passionately. "Mhm... don't want to let you go" he said, hands squeezing your ass. "Get a room" Ferran shouted. "I promise. Tonight" you said, pecking his lips again. Little did he know you will be busy that night, but not in the sexy way.

After the game, in which he scored, you were on your way to his place. "Are you okay? You don't seem that excited after a goal" you asked. You knew something was wrong with him since you kissed him after the game. Usually, he would talk you through the whole game, but now he was surprisingly quiet. "No, sorry, I really am. But..." he said. "I wish my parents were here. And Fer. He didn't even wish me happy birthday" he said and you could cry in that moment, telling him that they were waiting for him at home. "Oh Pedri, I'm sure he will" you said, texting Fer that you were on the way. This man, this man right here made your ovaries explode at how much he cared about his family. "I wish they were at the game too. Together with you. Supporting me. But they said they were too busy to fly here" he said thought greeted teeth. You bit your tongue, not wanting to ruin the surprise, but he was making it hard. Fucking ovaries, slow down. "They said they'll come in the weekend, no?" You asked. "Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he said defeated, parking the car. "Hey... look at me. It's your birthday and they love you, I'm sure they have something for you" you said, pecking his lips. "I hope you're right".

"Sorpresaaaa!!!"

Pedri remained like a statue in the door when he saw his family inside his house. "Don't you think we forgot about your birthday, you fucking idiot!" Fer said, hugging his brother. "You're an idiot" he repeated, fighting his little brother. Pedri then went to hug his parents. "If it wasn't for Y/N..." Fer said, bringing his attention back to you. "It was her idea. All this. And we were her accomplices" Fer grinned. Pedri ran to hug you tightly, whispering just how much he loves you. "I love you too, guapo. Now, let's celebrate" you said as Fer handed you a glass of champagne.

You talked with his mom about the match, then Pedri was curious how they couldn't make it to the game. Their flight got delayed, but you had this brilliant idea to wait for him home. "Wow... my girlfriend is really special, isn't she?" Pedri said, kissing the top of your head. "And now she'll say oh no, I didn't do anything" Ferran said, imitating your voice. "Hey!" You pouted, but still laughed at his joke.

"Hey! Where is the birthday boy?" Ferran asked after you had dinner. The birthday boy was sucking his girlfriend's face in the kitchen. "Tell me they aren't sleeping here" Pedri asked, sucking on your neck. "No. They're staying at Fer. Be patient, Pedri" you said, pushing him away. "I want you, amor" he whispered. "I know. I want to properly wish you a happy birthday too" you said, hugging him. "Ah he's here, where else he could be?" Fer said, seeing your flushed faces. "Slow down, cabron. We'll leave in a minute" Fer said. You bid your goodbyes to his family, promising to have breakfast with them in the city. "If you won't be busy" Fer winked before the left.

"Finally" Pedri said, hungrily kissing you. "Pedri... stop" you said, pushing him away. "What? Did I do something?" He asked panicked. "No, I just want to properly give you my present" you giggled, taking his hand and running to your shared bedroom. "Just wait here and be naked" you winked before disappearing into the bathroom to put on the new set of lingerie you bought special for this occasion. Meanwhile, Pedri undressed himself until his boxers, impatiently waiting for you. "You ready?" You asked from the bathroom. "Yeah..." he replied instantly.

"Fuck baby... I could come in my pants right now" he groaned, as you cat walked to him, pushing him down on the mattress. "What do you like more, Papi?" You asked, pulling his boxers down and eyeing him up and down. "Fuck me" he groaned as you sat on his thigh. "What do you like, Papi?". "Those panties, princess. I can feel you dripping on me" he smirked and you blushed. "Let me make you feel good, papi" you said, kneeling in front of him. "You wanna suck me? Come get it" he smirked as you lowered your lips to brush against his tip. He shuddered as you lips wrapped around him. "Looks so good princess. My cock into your pretty mouth" he said. When he hit the back of your throat, you both let out a moan. "Fuck baby... just like that" he praised, fucking your face. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving marks behind, but he didn't care. He wanted you to mark him up for everyone to see.

"Let me give you your present Papi" you pouted when he pulled out of your mouth. "Wanna come inside your pussy, baby. Now lay back and relax" he said, dipping his head into your core. "But Papi, it's supposed to be about you tonight" you moaned as he pleasured you with his tongue. "It's also about you, mi amor" he said. "Giving me, hm, let's say, 5 orgasms" he said. "It's too much, Papi" you moaned, already close to the first one. "I know you can. You're my good girl" he said, sucking harshly on your clit, triggering your orgasm. "Fuck Pedri..." you moaned when he pushed a finger inside. "So sweet for me, love" he praised, seeing how you closed your eyes in pleasure when he added another finger into your hole. "F-fuck..." you moaned again, his fingers brushing your G-spot. "Orgasm number 2 incoming" he chuckled as you rode his fingers and came.

"Papi please fuck me" you said as he teased your hole with the tip of his dick. "I'll fuck you so good, baby... you won't be able to walk tomorrow" he said. "Good thing you have the day free" you said as he pushed all the way in. "So tight and warm" he praised, moving a little to test the waters. But after two orgasms, you were more than ready to take him, so he thrusted harder. While he fucked your cunt, he suck on your breasts, pleasuring your hardening nipples while you were a moaning mess. "Orgasm number 3... let go, love" he said and you moaned louder as you came on his dick. He pulled out, waiting for you to regain your breath before flipping you on your stomach. "Pepi... can't" you whined as he helped you on all fours. "I know you can" he said, harshly slapping your ass. "You're my good good girl" he said, plunging himself back into you. You moaned, over sensitive, his dick feeling much deeper as he fucked you from behind. "Papi... fuck..." you moaned as he continued slapping your ass. "Take it like a good girl" he groaned and you could feel his breath on your neck. "You're doing so good for the birthday boy" he praised, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Only for you, Pedri" you moaned, feeling another orgasm coming. "Yes, baby, only I can fuck you like this" he groaned as he felt you clenching again. "Let go when you're ready, love" he whispered. You cried as you came and he spilled himself into you, breathing heavily. He didn't pull out right away and you knew why. You squirted all over him, your wetness dripping down your legs. He finally pulled away, helping you on your back as you were too embarrassed of what just happened. "I'm... I'm sorry" you shuttered, seeing what a mess you made on the bed. "Love, hey... that's the best present you could've given me" he said, pecking your lips. "I'm helping you clean yourself yeah?" He asked and you nodded, him bringing a wet cloth to wipe everything off.

"The best present ever" he said as you laid your head on his chest. "Happy birthday, Pedri. Love you so much" you yawned. "Love you too, baby. You still have to give me one orgasm, so don't forget about that" he chuckled. "Of course, Pepi. But I have to rest, you know" you said, blushing. "I know" he smirked. "Night Pepi" you said, falling asleep on his chest as he played with your hair. "Night, love" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

— next morning —

"Mhmm Pedri" you moaned as his head was between your legs again. "Pedri!" "What?" He asked. "We had to have breakfast with your parents" you said as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue. "I'm having my breakfast right now" he smirked, licking your wetness. "Fuck... we'll go after this" you moaned. "If you're able to walk, love" he grinned. "Pedri... fuck" you moaned as you came on his face. "And that's the fifth orgasm. You're welcome" he grinned, hugging you. "Te amo, Papi" you whispered. "Still want to go?" He asked. "No" you yawned, cuddling into his chest. "Good. Prepare for a lot of teasing from Ferran" he laughed. "I don't care when I have you" you mumbled. "I know. Me neither. Plus, he's jealous he ain't got a chick in his bed" he joked. "Good thing you have" you replied. "I have a girlfriend and that's even better" he said, pecking your lips.

Hope you like it 🩷

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