#knowing like. everything about me. I'm surprised it took me this long to make this connection | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penkura · 2 days

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knowing [6/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: Its Whole Cake Island time!! :') This arc made me cry, I really like it at a lot. Sanji finding his raid suit is different than the canon, because I forgot how he found it. :)

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5]

Arriving at Zou with the rest of your crew, you wanted nothing more than to see Sanji, hug Nami, and take a nap on Sunny. Bartolomeo's crew and ship were fine, but they weren't your home or family, it was hard for you to sleep without Sanji nearby and knowing Nami wasn't directing the ship and knew exactly where you were going. A few times you were afraid Bartolomeo's navigator was going to get you all lost on your way but eventually you made it, climbing up after everyone else and sticking close by Robin once you'd made it to the top.

The Minks eventually helped bring you back to everyone else, but Nami hugged you tightly after she'd hugged Luffy, whispering an apology that confused you.

"Nami, what–"

"Sanji's gone, I'm sorry. I couldn't…couldn't stop it."

Your head was starting to spin, you couldn't get any words out. Nami took your hand and dragged you away to the room the Minks had let her stay in, she explained everything.

Capone Bege's crew had shown up saying something about being there to retrieve Sanji, an arranged marriage between him and one of Big Mom's daughters being the cause. Nami told you even Sanji was shocked, but he chose to go with them to settle things and return to you all. He'd told her, Chopper, and Brook he never meant to hide anything from you all, and made her promise to give you a note he'd quickly written, which she did after she finished explaining, hugging you again while you sat frozen in place.

Sanji was being forced into an arranged marriage and you hadn't even been there to go with him or to stop him from going. The way it sounded, he wouldn't have even let you go with him, but you would have fought to do so. But, what did this mean for you two and your relationship? Only three of your crew members knew, what if he decided to stay and marry this girl, to leave you? Zoro and Nami would probably kill him if he did so and broke your heart, but you had faith in Sanji. You were certain he'd return to you, to the Straw Hats in general.

You were his family, not whoever these people who were forcing him into marriage were.

Nami left you alone a few minutes later so you could process what was happening and read the small note from Sanji, even though it ended up making you cry and hate yourself for staying in Dressrosa while he went to Zou.

[Y/N], my love,

I WILL come back to you. I'm not going to marry anyone that ISN'T you, I swear.

+!+

A while later, you heard a knock on the door that woke you from the small nap you'd fallen into. Thinking it was Nami, you didn't bother to check and told whoever it was to come in, being slightly surprised to see it was Zoro.

Not that surprised though, he'd made it clear to everyone, by his actions, that he thought of you like an older sister, and wanted to be sure you were all right.

"You okay? You never came down after Nami."

Sitting up a bit, you nodded and started brushing your fingers through your hair. You didn't want to talk much about the stuff going on with Sanji, but figured Zoro knew that when he came over and sat beside you.

"That idiot cook is in love with you, he's not gonna marry that girl."

"I know that." You passed the note over to Zoro, not caring if he read it. He did so quickly before handing it back to you, making you wonder if he really did read it or if he didn't care enough about Sanji to bother. Zoro, instead, ended up pulling you to him, which made you start to cry again. Not at all his intention, but you were so tired, physically and emotionally, that you couldn't help it. You'd been so looking forward to seeing Sanji, the last two years had been long enough away from him; now he was gone and on his way to try and get out of an arranged marriage, leaving you behind without being able to say anything in person.

Zoro was the only one who knew about Sanji's intentions to marry you. About the ring he'd bought in Dressrosa for you. There was no way he was going to let some stupid arranged marriage keep you two from getting married. Zoro knew that.

"You're going with them. Nami, Luffy, Chopper, and Brook are going after him, they're taking you along."

"O-Okay…" You nodded and sniffled a bit more, trying to calm yourself so you could go back to everyone. You could hear what sounded like a party going on, probably thanks to Luffy making friends with the Minks. "What a-about you?"

"I'm going on to Wano. You show up without that curly brow and I'm going to find him and kill him."

"Zoro, you can't just kill him."

"He hurts you and I will."

"Oh my gosh, you're the worst brother ever."

+!+

The next morning, your group split off from Zoro's group to head for Whole Cake Island. You thought the name sounded funny, but also were worried about entering the territory of one of the Four Emperors of the Sea. You'd heard Big Mom could be fearsome, and were terrified of meeting any of her numerous children for the same potential reason.

When you landed there finally, sticky from syrup rain and tired, you had no time to rest as Luffy and Chopper ended up eating an entire chocolate building, completely horrifying you as what appeared to be the police of the area appeared and were chastising them, until a girl with brown hair in pigtails showed up and played along that she'd asked them to do so.

She took you all to another building, introducing herself as Charlotte Pudding, the girl Sanji was supposed to marry in a few short days. Hearing her talk about him and how kind he was made you grip the hem of your dress tightly, biting your tongue until it hurt. You didn't want to feel jealous, Sanji's was yours, but you couldn't help it.

Pudding was pretty and perfect, and seemed more like Sanji's type than you. You wouldn't blame him if he agreed to marry her, but you knew he wouldn't. He'd never leave you after the amount of time you'd been together and how much you loved each other.

He…he wouldn't…right?

"He said he'd marry me if he could, but he wanted to return to his crew, and there was someone else he'd given his heart to."

While everyone else was shocked Sanji turned down a girl, Nami glanced over and caught you gritting your teeth, your lips pressed in a thin line. She knew you and Sanji were together, you'd told her and Robin after the events at Water Seven, and she hated seeing you this way. So worried and jealous at the same time. You should have been relieved to hear he told Pudding you had his heart, but it just scared you for some reason. Like it would be used by Big Mom or one of her numerous other kids as a way to hurt Sanji more than hurt you.

Nami reached over quietly and grabbed your hand under the table, squeezing it to let you know she was there. You gave her a small smile, which she knew was fake.

Once Pudding gave you all directions to the Seducing Woods and you were on your way, you stayed out on Sunny's deck, just watching the cotton candy clouds roll by.

"It's kind of pretty here." Nami hadn't startled you, you nodded at her when she spoke and came to stand beside you. "You've been lost in thought for a good while. Care to share?"

Shaking your head, you continued to stare at the sky, wishing none of this was happening.

"Hey, it's going to be alright. We'll get Sanji back and you two can go back to being grossly cute and in love with each other."

"What if he changes his mind?"

"Hm?"

"What if he changes his mind and decides he wants to marry Pudding? She's so pretty, how do I compete with the daughter of Big Mom?"

Rolling her eyes, Nami sighed and hugged you a bit. Of course you'd feel insecure about everything happening, Pudding really was pretty, but Nami knew that didn't matter to Sanji when it came to you. He'd always thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever met, but actually getting to know you over time, he'd told Nami he fell head over heels for your personality and your soul, your looks were secondary to everything else. Sanji loved you because of who you were, not what you looked like, despite his initial attraction to you being based on looks.

"You're not gonna compete with her. She said she wasn't going to marry him, right?"

"Yeah, but–"

"No buts, she said it's not happening. So unless she's lied to us, your relationship with Sanji will be fine. We'll get him back, don't worry."

You hugged Nami back and agreed with her, but still had a feeling of fear and worry in your heart. Nothing was right about all of this, you just had a feeling that something was wrong, but you weren't sure what it was. You didn't want to find out, you hoped your instincts were wrong, that the fear and worry would go away after a bit more information came to you.

You hoped for it, but also accepted that it was likely not going to happen.

+!+

"Sanji!!! Hey!!"

After being tricked by Pudding to the Seducing Woods, Luffy fought against one of the Sweet Generals, Charlotte Cracker, through the night. It took hours after you were separated from Brook, Chopper, Carrot, and Pedro, you and Nami safely atop one of the Homies thanks to Lola's piece of Big Mom's vivre card. Once he'd finally defeated him, the Homie you were on carried the three of you towards Totto Land, and you'd made it just in time to catch the carriage taking Sanji and his family to the castle.

But the look Sanji gave when he saw Luffy, then Nami, then you, you'd never seen such a horrified look on his face. Luffy flung himself to the carriage, catching Sanji up on everything that had happened since he was taken by Bege's crew, and you had some hope it'd bring him back to you all.

Until Sanji kicked Luffy from the carriage.

"Get lost…you miserable, inferior pirates!"

Your heart clenched, and you barely strained out his name.

"My name…is Vinsmoke Sanji."

A last name. You'd never known. Anytime you asked Sanji about his family or where he was from, he'd smile sweetly and tell you he wasn't at a point where he could talk about it yet. You accepted that answer, not wanting to push him into something he wasn't comfortable doing or talking about. You always figured you two would sit together one day when he was ready and he'd tell you everything. Never did you expect or want to find out this way.

"And I'm…a prince of Germa Kingdom!! Forgive me for hiding this from you!"

Please, [Y/N], I didn't want you to find out this way.

"Sanji, please." You stepped forward a bit, wanting him to stop and just come with you all.

I didn't need to know!

"If I had told you, it would only have made you self-conscious. The difference in status between us is obvious. Here, I have all the money, soldiers, and servants I can use!"

This isn't you. What have they done to you in a matter of days?

You hated it, every bit of it. This wasn't the Sanji you knew, it wasn't him at all. He never cared about money or anything like that. He'd always told you his past didn't matter, because all he could see was a future with you and the Straw Hats. Something had happened, in the few days you'd been apart, that changed the sweet, loving man you knew. What it was, you didn't know, you just knew something was wrong.

"If my choice is between returning to you and your chuckle-headed crewmates, and living in luxury here with Big Mom's beautiful daughter as my wife…which do you think will make me happier?!"

Nami was angry on your behalf, on the behalf of Luffy as well. For Luffy, because he'd been the one to recruit Sanji and convince him to go with you all.

For you because of your relationship with him, and the insecurity you'd felt after meeting Pudding. Your face was blank, but the tears welling up in your eyes made her even angrier.

"There's no comparison! Stop taking that letter seriously! I'm not going back!!"

Just leave, please! I can't have your blood on my hands!

You didn't want to hear another word, you actually wanted to take Luffy and Nami, leave and forget about this whole retrieval mission. At least, you thought you did, until the next thing Sanji said.

"I don't even know if you really can become king of the Pirates! I'm through playing pirate with your rag-tag crew," Sanji looked over at you, trying his hardest not to flee the carriage and pull you to him, he had to do something to keep you safe and even hated the next words out of his own mouth, "and I'm tired of playing romance, we're done."

"Sanji!!"

Luffy took it upon himself, of course, to try and fight Sanji to force him back. You stayed with Nami, Sanji's words replaying over and over in your head. You barely paid attention to the fight, even after Sanji returned to the carriage and Luffy yelled out to him that he'd never eat anyone else's food because Sanji was his chef, how he couldn't become king of the Pirates without him.

You felt a rush of adrenaline and ran up beside your captain who had just fallen to the ground, and took your turn shouting at the departing carriage.

"Sanji!!! I don't care what you said, I love you! You know I do!! I know we weren't just playing romance! I'll wait for you to come back too!!"

You didn't know if he actually heard you, but you hoped and prayed he did, while you collapsed by Luffy, the exhaustion of the last two days hitting you finally, along with the aching in your heart.

+!+

"Playing romance?? Is that what you've been doing as a pirate? Ha!" Yonji laughed at your shouted confession, while Sanji continued to cry over everything that had happened.

Luffy was determined to get him back, despite the fact he'd tried to drive him off, forcing you all to leave.

Nami slapped him which he knew he deserved, he'd hurt his closest friends and the pain from that was far worse than her slap.

And then you. You, his sweet, kind, patient, loving girlfriend, how could he do that to you, of all people? He was certain his family didn't know whether he looked at you or Nami, but when he locked eyes with you, the tears starting down your face as he just broke up with you, claiming it was just playing romance when he'd never do such a thing to you, it hurt him worse than anything else that had just happened.

Your yelling didn't help, he'd heard every word. You revealed your relationship on purpose so he knew you still loved him.

He didn't know how you could, of course feelings won't go away that quickly. Every day you'd tell him you loved him with a smile, sometimes that you hoped you'd have the chance to get married one day.

Sanji never understood why you truly loved him, why you wanted to marry him. He always refused to tell you about his horrendous family life growing up, but you always accepted it and said he could whenever he was ready. He told you he loved you first, and was surprised when you cried and told him the same, throwing your arms around him and kissing him.

He didn't deserve you, he knew that. He didn't deserve to have his thoughts be about marrying you, his late night wonderings about what your kids would look like. No, Sanji believed that now, he didn't deserve a life with you. Now you could go find someone who did deserve you, you weren't tied to him anymore. Maybe if you'd all go to Wano, you'd meet someone else, or even fall for Law or hell, he'd even expect Usopp.

Whatever was next, he thought you'd be better off without him.

She deserves better than a failure like me anyway.

+!+

"I can't believe you're letting him go like that." Nami tried to be angry as she sat beside you and Luffy, but she was struggling to even pretend. That bout he and Sanji just had was enough to cause her to slap the blond, out of frustration for Luffy and you. It didn't make her feel any better, but she thought maybe it would help you a little.

"I can't be mad at him." You admitted quietly, pulling your knees to your chest and setting your chin on them. "Could you see it? Did you hear his voice?"

"Of course I did! He just insulted Luffy and broke up with you in front of everyone that was here!"

"He's not doing it because he wants to!"

Nami was a bit surprised you shouted, but Luffy wasn't. He'd noticed the same as you did, the way Sanji looked at him in feign hatred that was really shock you'd all shown up, the way his voice wasn't normal, it almost quivered as he stated he'd become tired of playing romance with you and he'd chosen to quit being a pirate and accept his royal heritage.

"Everything was a lie, Nami! Everything that just happened, he doesn't want to do this to us!" You had hoped the syrupy rain would cover your tears, and it did, until you choked out a sob. "He's trying to protect us, I get that! It does hurt like hell to hear him say what he did, but…but he's keeping us safe as best he can."

Nami quickly moved over and hugged you tightly, apologizing for being upset about what had just happened. She knew that you knew Sanji better than any of them at this point, and your relationship may have been revealed to Luffy in a way you didn't want, but she was sure you and Sanji, if you could get him out of this arranged marriage, would be okay.

On the other hand, Luffy laughed a bit, giving you a big smile. "You're right! We'll get him back, and you guys can get married instead!"

"Sorry you found out this way, Luffy."

Shaking his head, Luffy just grinned with a giggle. "Don't worry about it. If you guys are happy, that's all good! You guys gotta get married on Sunny though!"

"If he ever wants to even think about marriage after this, I'd be glad to." Laughing as well, you knew it wouldn't be long before someone from Big Mom's castle came to capture you, and you would accept that for now. It might place you closer to Sanji in the end, for all you knew.

Luffy would rescue him, he just had to.

+!+

"That sneaky, conniving, little bi–"

"Hey, watch your language!"

Nami couldn't believe how angry you were, she'd never seen you so ready to harm yourself in order to get to someone else. Of course, the fact that Pudding just told the three of you the true intentions of this wedding, that she was going to be killing Sanji tomorrow, didn't help at all. You were struggling to get free from the nail-like candy trapping you in a cell, just as Luffy was though he was twisting himself to a point you feared he'd never come back from. Your anger was too much, you rarely ever swore and now Nami had heard you call Pudding and the rest of the Charlotte family a colorful array of names in about thirty seconds.

"How dare they! They think they're gonna kill the love of my life and get away with it?!"

"What about his family?"

"I don't care about them!!"

"You're gonna be a great daughter-in-law."

You stopped your attempts to escape and sent Nami a slight side eye, which made her roll her eyes. You'd never do anything to her, and she understood you didn't seem to be a fan of your possible future in-laws, but you really needed to calm down before the jailer caught wind of what you and Luffy were doing.

You hated how weak you felt, especially when Opera went to take Nami to get Lola's location out of her, but you were beyond glad when Jimbei showed up and freed the three of you, before you or Luffy could hurt yourselves further.

You followed your captain into the castle to try and find Sanji, but found yourselves pulled into another room and face to face with his sister, Reiju. Once she informed you that Sanji knew the truth about the next day, Luffy thanked her and jumped out a window to go to the spot he promised Sanji he'd be waiting at, but you stayed behind.

You really wanted to talk with Reiju.

"And you are? I know you were on the ship when I saved your captain."

"I'm [Y/N], I'm Sanji's girl–" you had to stop yourself, biting your lip and shaking your head. "I'm a member of the Straw Hats like Sanji."

You two were technically broken up at the moment, whether you accepted that or not. It felt like you couldn't call yourself his girlfriend right now, no matter how much it hurt your heart to stop yourself.

"Oooh, I see," Reiju smiled a bit at you, and you started to calm down. "You're the girl he told me about."

"He-He did?"

She nodded, still smiling at you. Once they had discussed the assassination plot, Sanji ended up telling Reiju a bit about you, and how he felt like garbage for breaking up with you the way he did, where he did. He'd even admitted he wouldn't blame you if you didn't take him back after all of this. He thought he was completely unworthy of your love now, you'd never take a failure like him back, and he just somehow knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness or love.

You deserved better than him, in Sanji's mind.

"He did, probably not everything but some things. Said you were the prettiest girl he'd ever met, and he was so in love with you."

Your heart clenched and you reached up to grip the necklace he'd found and bought for you in Water Seven. The little silver heart still made you happy anytime you looked at it.

"He hates what he did to you, and hoped that you'd take him back if he got to return." Reiju's smile softened as you started to cry, both hands tightly wrapped around your necklace now. "He thinks he should die with us tomorrow, but you need to help your captain get him out of here. The bracelets he's wearing are duds, he'll be fine if you leave with him."

"I…I'm so glad!" Your sobs were silent this time, while you started to smile so no one got suspicious of who was with Reiju. "The thought of Sanji marrying someone else has made me so sick to my stomach! But…just knowing he still loves me…is more than enough for the moment!"

You really did believe what you told Nami, that Sanji did what he had to in order to protect you guys and Zeff, to keep you from coming after him, but a part of you feared it was all genuine. That he didn't love you anymore, he didn't want to be a pirate or a cook anymore. It was just a small, nagging fear in the back of your mind, but now it had been squashed. You were no longer afraid or worried he had fallen out of love with you, cooking, or the sea.

He was still Sanji. Nothing had changed.

You thanked Reiju for the information, deciding to go find Nami again and leave the castle, when she stopped you and asked if you wanted to know about their childhood, how Sanji ended up in the East Blue, and about their mother.

Truthfully, you desperately did want to know, but you shook your head at her offer with a small smile.

"Sanji will tell me when he's ready."

+!+

You did find Nami and Jimbei, joining them in fighting to get out of the castle before you were dragged into the Mirro-world by Chopper and Carrot. Pedro was back with you as well, and you didn't fully understand why Big Mom's daughter Brulee or this guy named Diesel were with you, but if it helped you accomplish your goals, you figured it was ok. Your next task was to find Brook, and you did, nestled in Big Mom's arms as she slept, treating him like a stuffed animal. A few rescue attempts later you had him back, and he'd even gotten a copy of her Poneglyphs for Robin to read later.

Once you were all together, the only ones you needed were Luffy and Sanji, and you were lucky enough to find shards of the mirror that was destroyed in the place Luffy said he would stay. You were all able to get into contact with the two, everyone else cheering that Sanji was back while you held back your tears when he said your name, asking if you were there and all right.

"I'm here. I'm okay, don't worry."

"Oh, mon amour, I'm so, so sorry, I–"

"Sanji, we'll talk later. For now…leave things as they are. We have other things to do."

Hearing his soft agreement hurt you a bit, but you couldn't have such a talk with everyone else around. Not now, not here. Chopper and Brook asked you what was going on as you all headed for Capone Bege's place, and all you told them was that you and Sanji had been dating for a couple years, but were broken up for the moment due to the circumstances. They were both shocked you'd keep such a relationship secret, but also sad for the two of you to be in the situation you were in. You were certain everything would be alright once this wedding was stopped, once the assassination plot was ended, but until then, you'd keep your relationship status as broken up, despite the thought hurting you even more.

+!+

Upon arrival at Bege's place, you, Nami, and Carrot went off to take a much needed bath, Nami speaking and connecting with Chiffon thanks to her having been friends with Lola for the time you all were at Thriller Bark. Carrot was enjoying the bath greatly, and you were glad to be able to wash away the gross feelings of the last two days, but you weren't really looking forward to seeing Sanji yet. You wanted to hide in the bath the whole time, making Carrot nervous as you sunk down further, letting the water come up to your nose so you could still breathe. Nami wasn't that concerned, she knew you were still upset but you weren't going to do anything to yourself. You'd be fine after some time, once you and Sanji could actually talk.

You did eventually leave the bath, changing into the [f/c] dress that Chiffon had left for you. It hit about your knees and had long sleeves, but you did think it was a nice dress for the time being.

When you were on your way to the room Chiffon said this brief alliance discussion would be taking place in, you caught sight of Sanji about to go into the room himself, before he saw you. His eyes lit up and he told Luffy to go without him, turning and walking towards you, hoping you'd let him explain quickly.

"[Y/N]. I've missed you so much." You let Sanji hug you, returning it tightly and saying the same thing. It'd been far too long, you two hadn't truly been around each other since your arrival in Dressrosa, and that was a few weeks ago now.

You really had missed him.

Releasing you, Sanji took your face in his hands and placed his forehead against yours, making you start to tear up just because you had missed him terribly the last few days, you missed being so close to him, missed just holding his hands and talking to him, and were glad he was in front of you again.

"I'm so, so sorry. I didn't…I never wanted…"

"I know. It's okay, I understand, you were trying to protect us."

"It doesn't justify what I said to you," he shook his head, making sure you were looking him in the eyes so you knew he wasn't lying, "It's not just playing romance with you, you know that, right? You know I'm serious about us."

You nod, removing his hands from your face to just hold them, staying as close as you can be without hugging. "I know, but it's okay for the moment. We don't have the time to talk about this, but, once we're back on Sunny, we should sit and talk, all right?"

Nodding, Sanji agreed with you. There was no time to work this out right then, so you'd have to put it on the back burner and wait for now. Wait until this sham wedding was stopped, Big Mom would potentially be assassinated, and Sanji would be free from having to deal with his family ever again. You'd make sure they stayed away, even if it killed you.

"I love you. Only you, now and always."

"I love you too, Sanji."

Everything would be okay. Just a bit longer, and you'd all be back on Sunny and heading for Wano.

+!+

The assassination plot against Big Mom had failed, but so had hers against the Vinsmoke family, she was never going to have the technology from Germa now. Once the wedding cake had been ruined, her hunger pangs began and she started a rampage, but by then, you all had moved back to the Seducing Woods where Sunny was waiting, this time with Sanji alongside you. He'd rescued his family, before disowning his father who accepted that to your shock, and now he was wondering why you kept giving him odd looks.

"What's up?"

You just kind of looked him over, making him slightly nervous before you shrugged with a slight frown.

"You look better in black. White doesn't suit you as well."

"That…THAT'S IT?!" Sanji was only shocked for a moment before you giggled, saying he still looked handsome but black was definitely more his color. He'd thought something was wrong! It made him glad to hear that the 'problem' was just the color suit he'd been forced to wear.

You all were interrupted by a flying carpet carrying Chiffon and Pudding, the latter of the two wanting Sanji to go with them to make a cake that could satisfy Big Mom's cravings, even though she kept switching between seeming lovestruck by Sanji and wanting to kill him still. Despite your comment and reiterating of love for each other, you two hadn't properly reconciled your relationship, so for the moment, you were willing to let Sanji go if it meant stopping Big Mom's rampage.

Sanji, though, wasn't so keen on the idea of leaving you again, even though you would be with the rest of your crew, but you promised him you'd be fine. You knew how to fight, you'd throw a few shuriken and some kunai with trip wire or paper bombs to stop whoever came after you all. He gave you the quickest hug, holding your hand while he promised he'd be back as soon as possible, making you laugh.

"You'd better not be lying to me."

"Never in a million years, mon amour."

You barely took notice of the way Pudding looked at you until Sanji joined her and Chiffon on the flying carpet. She was looking at you like she knew, the entire time, that you were the one he'd told her he'd given his heart too. You never confirmed or denied it when you spoke with her the first time, but it seemed like she could tell. You didn't say a word to her, just nodded and followed everyone else back to Sunny.

You felt you could trust Pudding for now.

+!+

Luffy had disappeared into the Mirro-world with another of Big Mom's children, Katakuri, and you could assume a fight had taken place. Sanji had left with Chiffon and Pudding to recreate the wedding cake to stop Big Mom from rampaging through her own kingdom.

The rest of you had been able to get on board Sunny and away from the shore, now just trying to stay away from anyone that came towards you as you attempted to reach Cacao Island to reunite with your missing captain and chef. It took longer than you personally liked, and Big Mom had attacked Sunny as you all went on, Nami being the one to temporarily stop her by discharging lightning from a cloud Homie named Zeus, who she promptly captured as her own.

You'd all made it to Cacao Island in time for Sanji and Luffy to almost be thrown to the ship, making your getaway surprisingly with the help of the Germa fleet to keep Big Mom's fleet of ships from you.

It'd been a while since you were able to successfully escape from Big Mom and Totto Land, you sat relieved on the Sunny's deck, thankful to be on the way to Wano and to have Sanji back finally.

Luffy was laid out on the deck too, his stomach started growling after a bit which made you laugh.

"Hey uh," it was weird to hear Sanji sound so unsure as he spoke, but still it made you smile, "I could…make you a meal?"

He didn't have a chance to run before Luffy, Brook, Chopper, and Carrot were nearly mauling him at the thought of having his cooking, making Sanji ask if you all had eaten while he'd been gone. All of you followed him to the kitchen where he prepared food for you, making you the happiest by seeing him in his element, doing what he loved.

Of course, you two would need to sit and talk, but you'd already asked Nami to place you on the first night watch so you and Sanji could have a talk uninterrupted.

Once you finished eating, you quietly snuck out to go to the crow's nest and wait. You were sure Sanji would want to clean the kitchen and wash the dishes before he even thought about bed, so you had time to think about what you wanted to say.

Sanji noticed you were gone not even five minutes later, hoping you still weren't upset over everything that had happened.

"Where–"

"She's on the first night watch," Nami smiled at Sanji when she knew what he was about to ask, "She said she'll be waiting for you."

Nodding, Sanji turned back to the stove to finish the next batch of food Luffy had asked for. He'd definitely join you once he was done, but he'd worry and stress over what to say, how to explain himself if you'd let him until then. He prayed you'd take him back, that you wouldn't still be upset with him. He'd tell you everything, no matter how much it hurt him personally, you deserved to know what you'd gotten into with him.

Please….please just accept me still.

+!+

The sound of the hatch to the crow's nest opening woke you from your light nap, you quickly rubbed your eyes before looking to see who it was, grinning when you saw exactly who you'd been waiting for.

"Sanji!" He barely entered the room before you'd jumped up from your spot, fully awake now, and threw your arms around him, kissing his face while he tried to keep from falling with you.

"Hey, hey, calm down! You're gonna drag us to the floor!"

"Who cares?!"

He was able to stay upright with you holding onto him, setting you down after a moment. You smiled and once he'd closed the hatch, you dragged him over the bench with you, making him sit right next to you while you held his hand. There was no way you were letting him go again, not until you got to Wano at least. You also didn't want this conversation to last too long, you were sure he wanted to get out of that white wedding suit as soon as possible.

You were both quiet for a while, neither of you sure where to start, but you decided to break the ice by leaning closer and kissing Sanji on the cheek with a smile.

"I love you."

"How could you still love me after all of this?"

Humming a bit, you furrowed your brow seeing Sanji wouldn't look at you. He'd told you he loved you just the night before at Bege's castle, and you responded the same. Did he think you'd really stop loving him simply because of his family, because of this arranged marriage crap? All in a matter of a day?

"Sanji," you held his hand tighter, using your free one to make him look at you, smiling softly at him, "none of it was your fault."

"Of course it–"

"No, listen to me. Nothing that happened the last few days was your fault. You were being used by people who don't care about you like we do," you stopped to kiss him briefly, which caused Sanji to hug you so tightly, "they don't love you like I do especially. Nothing could stop me from loving you, Sanji."

Sanji severely did not want to start crying to you, he didn't want you to feel any kind of pity for him. You never would, he knew that, but it was just a small fear. He still was determined to tell you about his childhood, hoping you'd still want to be with him after you heard everything, after you learned how he ended up in the East Blue and working with Zeff at the Baratie.

But he knew deep down that you'd never leave him just because of what he was subjected to. You might want to go back and kill his brothers but you wouldn't leave him.

"I love you. I love you so, so damn much."

You hummed lightly with a soft smile, hugging him tighter and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too, Sanji; so much more than you'll ever know."

Sanji fully believed you. He knew you loved him and wouldn't leave him. You'd stay with him and continue to help him move on from his past, continuing to help him heal and plan a life with you instead.

He hoped you'd like that idea.

+!+

"Sanji, what do you want to do with this suit?"

"Burn it for all I care."

You laughed, halfway expecting that answer while Sanji got ready for the day. You two had spent your entire night watch talking, he'd told you all about his childhood and apologized too many times for your liking, but it all ended up all right in the end. When Nami came in to take over, you'd both fallen asleep and if Zoro was there, he and Sanji would be having an argument, but since it was Nami, she gently woke you both and told you to go downstairs and sleep. Sanji ended up picking you up bridal style once you two had made it down to the deck, making you giggle and hug him around his neck. You kicked your legs like a child and while he smiled, Sanji told you to be careful so he didn't drop you, but you knew he'd never. He had taken you to the women's bunks and was going to leave you in your bed to go to his own, but you grabbed him before he could go anyway and asked him to stay, which he gladly did so.

Now you were getting ready to continue onward to Wano, and you just wanted to know what to do with the suit he'd worn the day before. There really wasn't anything wrong with it, apart from the memories that would be attached to it and the fact you had said he looked better in black, Sanji didn't want to keep it at all.

You dug through the pockets to make sure he hadn't left his lighter or anything in them, before finding a strange black item with a 3 on it.

"What's this?"

"Hmm?"

Eyes widening at the item in your hands, Sanji stopped brushing his teeth and almost choked on the toothpaste in his mouth before spitting it out and snatching the item from your hands.

"How the hell did this get here?"

He didn't tell you a thing and started walking out to the deck, leaving you to follow.

"Sanji, wait! What is it??"

"Trash is what it is!"

Luffy and the others were on the deck as you two walked out, and when he saw the item in Sanji's hand he used his Gum Gum powers to stretch out and take it.

"Is this a raid suit like what your family had?!"

"A raid suit?!" Chopper's eyes lit up into stars, and he and Luffy started begging Sanji to try the raid suit, but he adamantly refused. He figured that his brother Niji must've been the one to give him the suit, saying he was the only one to actually have contact with him and Luffy when they were escaping Totto Land. Luffy and Chopper continued to whine and beg Sanji to try the raid suit, the two wanted to see what cool transformation would happen, but Sanji absolutely did not want to have anything to do with Germa's science.

"You might be able to shoot lasers!!!"

"Look, we don't need another person that can shoot lasers! It's enough that we've got Franky! I don't want that Germa science near me! In fact," he gave them both a small glare, "Don't ever say the words Vinsmoke or Germa around me! Both are forbidden!"

While the two whined, Nami brought up how she uses science herself, showing off Zeus who had made his new home in her climate baton, having chosen food over loyalty, when Carrot jumped down with the latest Coo News.

"It says here that Luffy, Sanji, Jimbei, and Bege attempted to assassinate Big Mom, and that Luffy was the ringleader!" She flipped the pages and a few bounty posters fell out when she did so. "Oh, new bounty posters."

You and Sanji both caught sight of one of them, you were excited and he was surprised.

"Ah!"

"Your bounty went up, Sanji!!"

You were so happy for him that you couldn't help it, you threw your arms around his neck laughing! No point in hiding your relationship now, not after a shouted confession and having to explain the situation to Chopper and Brook. The only ones who didn't know yet were Usopp and Franky, and you intended to tell them as soon as you met up with them in Wano.

"It's 330 million berries! Wait, what's the moss head's bounty?!"

"I believe," Brook answered before anyone else had the chance to, "it's 320 million."

"Yes! In your face, moss head!!" Sanji grinned and finally hugged you back, twirling just a bit with you, asking if you were proud of your super awesome boyfriend who had a higher bounty than Zoro. All you did was laugh and nod, you truly were proud of him!

"Oh hey," Chopper held another bounty poster in his hands and held it up to the two of you, "[Y/N]'s bounty went up to! It's 120 million now!"

"What?!" Your face went red as you took the poster from Chopper, absolutely shocked yours went up at all. You didn't think you'd been mentioned in the article, so you didn't expect this! "Why did mine double?!"

"Who cares, you should be proud!" Taking your face in his hands, Sanji kept smiling with heart eyes and rubbed his nose and cheek against your own. "My beautiful girlfriend is so strong!! I'm so proud of you!!"

"Sanji!!" You blushed even worse, not used to being able to show affection so openly, but you'd get over it at some point.

"Ah young love, yohohoho!"

You ignored Brook while Sanji got another look at his poster, instantly becoming depressed when he realized his bounty likely only went up because of his family and Germa, due to it having his last name on it.

Carrot brought the paper over to you, telling you to check the article again. Doing so, you read through and your face went pale reading a few sentences stuck in the middle.

"'The assassination plot was aided by another Straw Hat pirate member, by the name of [L/N] [Y/N], a young kunoichi from Yume Village, an offshoot of Wano. She's believed to be in a relationship with Vinsmoke Sanji.' I…are you freaking kidding me?!"

Instead of being depressed you became angry, realizing it was most likely because of your relationship that your bounty went up, not really because of anything you did. You almost wanted to hide the rest of the day, but decided it wasn't worth it in the end. Your bounty had increased, your relationship was out in the world, you'd just have to accept it.

Luffy became depressed himself, reading his new poster and believing it said his bounty had dropped to 1.5 million berries, before Brook read it aloud and corrected him.

"Your bounty isn't 1.5 million berries. It's 1.5 billion berries!!"

"WHAT???!"

Everyone was so shocked, you had to read the poster for yourselves, to make sure it was accurate, and it was! Luffy had such a high bounty now, you all were excited for him; you personally were a little concerned, but Luffy was strong so everything would be all right!

Instead of there being any kind of concern, Luffy laughed and was glad his bounty hadn't gone down. Nami nearly smacked him on the head for being so nonchalant about it, before Sanji suggested he could start on breakfast, which everyone agreed to.

"Let me help you!"

You grabbed Sanji's hand before he could step away, and he gladly agreed to let you help him make breakfast. He placed you on your usual task of chopping vegetables for the omelets that he'd decided would be perfect to start the day with. It was quiet for a while, both of you focused and working on your tasks, Luffy coming in every few minutes to ask when breakfast would be ready before Sanji kicked him out and told him soon. The last time it happened, before even turning back to his own work, Sanji stopped and hugged you from behind, making you giggle.

"I love you, [Y/N]."

"I love you too, Sanji!"

I'm gonna marry you one day, I swear it.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #knowing fanfic #fem!reader #black leg sanji x reader

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prolix-yuy · 23 hours

Text

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

#prolix wips #I'm sorry I've been away for so long!#but I'm back!#if there are things I missed please tag me or send them!#I want to read all your stories!

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sequinsmile-x · 2 days

Text

Loquacious

/lo·qua·cious./ adjective: tending to talk a great deal; talkative.

Whatever the dentist had given Aaron had apparently made her usually stoic, quiet, husband the chattiest man on the planet.

-x-

Hi friends!

Some silly, fluffy, and hopefully funny nonsense for you on this Wednesday evening. I'm gifting this to the lovely @em-prentiss because our Hotchniss brain powers somehow connected and encouraged us to both write Aaron high af at the same time haha

I really hope you like this, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of dentists/dental work

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She feels nauseous.

It swirls in her gut, forcing her to press her fingers against her lips to stop her from retching, worried she’d throw up right here in the dentist’s waiting room if she didn’t. She was almost used to the nausea itself, it had been weeks of it now. Everything seemed to trigger it, making her stomach flip and twist as she tried to breathe through it. She was always oddly proud of herself for pushing through when she could, her other palm pressed against her still flat belly as she tries to ignore the scent of antiseptic in the air that had set her off the moment they’d walked into the dentist’s office.

“Mrs Hotchner?”

She looks up from where her gaze had firmly been fixed on the ground and she frowns when she sees the small cup of water being held out to her. The knowing look on the receptionist's face only deepens her confusion as she takes the drink from her.

“You were starting to look at little green,” the receptionist says, uncurling her fist and dropping a couple of individually wrapped mints into Emily’s other hand, “I was the same way when I had my first,” she says, winking, “The mints help.”

No one other than Aaron and Emily’s OBGYN knew she was pregnant. They hadn’t been trying all that long yet, only a few months had passed since she’d stopped taking her birth control, and she’d been nothing short of overjoyed when the first pregnancy test she took came back positive. Everything else in her life had been so hard to get, so fiercely fought for, that she thought this would be the same. Another thing for her and Aaron to survive together as they tried to grow their family.

She was 10 weeks along and pregnancy was kicking her ass. She was exhausted all the time. Emotional. Nauseous. And her boobs hurt so much she felt like she could cry. She was surprised no one on the team had figured it out yet, that they hadn’t realised that over the last few weeks, she hadn’t been to any crime scenes, not when the smell of one almost made her throw up, and that she was largely just doing victimology.

She knew that they’d have to tell everyone soon, and she was excited to share it with the people she loved, but she would miss this just being something between her and Aaron. A secret they shared in the privacy they so rarely had - his hand pressed against her stomach as they talked about everything their baby would and could be.

Emily stutters on a laugh and shakes her head, “How did you…”

The receptionist smiles kindly, “When you know you now,” she says, standing up straight again, “Your husband is all done, so when you’re ready you can go back and get him.”

Emily sighs in relief and nods gratefully. He’d only had two teeth removed, a hit from an unsub distributing previous dental work to the point where they couldn’t be salvaged, but she’d been worried. She knew it was a simple procedure, that she’d seen him go through worse. She’d sat by and watched him recover from things most people couldn’t even imagine and she’d done since long before they were together. It didn’t make it any easier - and the hour she’d sat in the waiting room with nothing to keep her busy except the rolling nausea in her stomach and the sound of drills from the procedure rooms had been some of the longest of her life.

She drinks the water, only sipping half of it so she doesn’t get carried away and make herself sick, and pops one of the mints into her mouth before she heads to where the receptionist had directed her, excited to see her husband.

She hears him talking before she even enters the room, his voice muffled by the wooden door. As she enters the room, her eyes wide as she looks at her husband. The left-hand side of his face was swollen and numb. The grin he was throwing her, one she could only describe as goofy was lopsided, and his eyes were dazed.

“Hi honey,” she says, walking over and sitting next to him, relief vibrating in her chest when he squeezes her hand back, “How are you feeling?”

“Mouth hurts,” he replies, his words slurred ever so slightly, a lisp chasing every syllable as his tongue tries to figure out what the hell is going on. He turns to look at the nurse and points at Emily, “Didn’t I tell you she was pretty?”

The nurse suppresses a smile, her lips pressed together as she talks over him, clearly aware that he simply wasn’t going to stop talking just because she’d started.

“Yes, Aaron you did,” she says, turning her attention to Emily, “He’s been talking about you a lot, Dr Harris actually had to ask him to stop so he could extract the tooth.”

It was far from the first time she’d ever seen him on painkillers. They usually just made him sleepy, and more than once he’d fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder on the jet home when he’d been hurt on a case. This, she was quickly realising, was different.

Whatever the dentist had given Aaron had apparently made her usually stoic, quiet, husband the chattiest man on the planet.

She smiles softly at him and runs her fingers through his hair, “You’ve been bragging about me?”

He nods earnestly before wincing, “Always.”

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider and she looks up at the nurse, “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Here is some gauze and some more pain meds,” she replies, handing Emily a bag, “He can use an ice pack when needed and as from tomorrow I’d recommend salt water rinses-”

“Gross,” Aaron interrupts, his face screwed up as Emily shoots him a look before she turns her attention back to the nurse.

“No food that will require a lot of chewing, and make sure he is careful when brushing.”

Emily nods, her eyes flicking to her husband when he reaches for her hand, linking his fingers through hers, “Of course.”

“What about kissing?” Aaron asks, his brow furrowing in frustration at the sound of his own voice, his tongue heavy in his mouth, “Is kissing okay?”

Emily sighs, ignoring how she could feel the nurse's amusement radiating off of her, “Honey-”

“Kissing is needed,” he says, looking earnestly at the nurse, “Have you seen how pretty she is? I need to be able to kiss her.”

The nurse, to her credit, doesn’t laugh, but she does clear her throat as she nods, her eyes sparkling as they meet Emily’s, “Kissing is fine, Aaron. Don’t worry.”

Emily squeezes his hand as she looks down at him, “Come on, let's get you out of here,” she says, desperate to get him in the car and home before he says anything else.

She thanks the nurse and then the receptionist as she walks past, her cheeks warming again as the other woman winks at her. Aaron stumbles ever so slightly when they get outside, as if the fresh air knocks him back, reminding him that he’s pumped full of painkillers and whatever sedative they gave him. She wraps her arm around his waist and smiles when his automatically loops around her shoulder, pulling her closer as if he’s the one providing the support.

“Let’s go home,” she says as they approach the car, but he stops, still able to use his strength against her even in his impaired state, and she furrows her brow when she turns to see him staring at her, “What's wrong?”

“I can’t go home, I need to go to work.”

She thinks he’s joking at first and she laughs but it fades when she realises he’s being serious. She places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at him, “Aaron, baby, you’ve just had two teeth removed. You can’t feel half your face.”

“I don’t need my face to do paperwork,” he says, his attempt at a stern expression somewhat lost when half of his face doesn’t comply. “If you take me home I’ll just drive there myself.”

She sighs because she knows he would. He’d rest for approximately two minutes before he got in the car and drove himself to work. She rolls her eyes and steps closer to him, making sure she stamps a kiss on the cheek he can feel before she pulls back.

“Fine,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “I just had to marry the most stubborn man on the planet,” she says, shaking her head as she unlocks the car and slides into the driver's side, grateful when he at least doesn’t argue and gets in the passenger seat. She clips her seat belt into place and checks his is secure too when he’s done it, and she catches him staring at her, “What?”

“You’re so good at looking after me,” he says, his smile still wonky and dazed, “Jack and the baby are so lucky to have you.”

She leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth, “I think you’ve said more to me in the last few minutes than you did the entire first month I knew you.”

He frowns, “That’s not true.”

She hums, “Whatever you say, honey.”

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sends two quick texts to the BAU group chat before she locks it and puts it down as she starts the engine.

As predicted he wants to come to work. If any of you say anything about his lisp or his swollen face I will kill you.

We both know I’m talking to you, Derek.

___

He talks the entire car ride to the office.

She has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing more than once, his constant stream of consciousness, mostly about her and how much he loved her, as entertaining as it was embarrassing.

He’d never been shy about his love for her, not in private anyway. He always told her how much he loved her, how much he appreciated her. But this was something else, unbidden and wild as it spilled out of him without thought, his words slurred slightly by his half-numb face and the pain meds that were making him loopy.

“Want to know my favourite thing about being at work?” He says as they get out of the elevator, and nods, regretting it when her stomach rolls a little, “That I get to sit at my desk and look at you.”

She shakes her head lovingly and she stops them, “Want to know my favourite thing about being at work?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

She chuckles and bites her lower lip before she leans in, making sure no one would be able to hear her if they walk past, “That occasionally, my husband will sneak away and make out with me in a supply closet.”

He attempts to waggle his brows at her but fails, “We can do that later if you want.”

She kisses his cheek before she pulls back, heading for the doors into the bullpen, “Baby, I think making out might be a little beyond you for a couple of days.”

“But the nurse said we could kiss,” he grumbles as she pushes the door open, and she can see the delight that passes over Derek and Dave’s face as they step into the office, but all it takes is her raising her eyebrow at them for them to clear their throats, tight smiles thrown their way as Derek mumbles under his breath.

“Looking good Hotch.”

“Do you need help getting up to your office?” Emily asks Aaron, ignoring Derek and the others completely, and she regrets it the moment she asks. The unfiltered love she’d quickly become used to in the last hour or so flashing across his face before he leans in and kisses her cheek, sloppy and uncoordinated as he presses his lips against her skin.

“You’re such a good wife,” he says as he pulls back, his smile wide, “You’re such a good mom,” he adds, and she knows what was going to happen a split second before it does, his hand reaching out for her stomach as he carries on talking before she can stop him, “I can’t wait to have this baby with you.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, the moment of silence that follows what he’s said all too brief for her liking before she hears a gasp from JJ.

“You’re pregnant?”

Emily turns and looks at the team, and she nods, clearing her throat as she reaches down and squeezes Aaron’s hand before she removes it from her belly, “Yes. I am.”

JJ pulls her into a hug, and Emily watches as Derek smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket, sending a text that she’d bet her trust fund on going to Penelope.

“Congratulations,” JJ says, squeezing her tightly, “I’m so happy for you.”

Emily hugs her back, wrapping her arm around her briefly before she pulls back, “Thank you,” she says, throwing her husband a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anybody yet. But we’re excited.”

Dave muscles his way in for a hug, before he pats Aaron on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you both. I assume I get to be god-father.”

“It makes more sense for someone younger than them to be godfather,” Spencer says, smiling when Dave narrows his eyes at him, and Emily turns to Aaron, shaking her head as he watches everyone else. She slaps his shoulder gently, her eyebrow raised as their eyes meet.

“Now you’re quiet?” She asks, opening her mouth to gently berate him, any attempt to be mad at him pointless when he was looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars herself, but she’s cut off by a delighted squeal as Penelope walks into the bullpen.

“Peaches, you’re pregnant?”

Emily groans and pinches the bridge of her nose, “I should have just taken him home.”

___

Aaron grumbles as Emily lifts his head up just long enough to slip in underneath, taking her place back on the couch, before lowering him back down onto the cushion on her lap before she holds an icepack against his cheek. “There’s something wrong with this,” he complains and she smiles, running her fingers through his hair with her free hand.

“What do you mean?”

He stretches his jaw and then groans in pain, “My pregnant wife looking after me,” he complains, his lisp almost entirely gone, “I should be waiting on you hand and foot. Bringing you water and ginger ale and rubbing your feet.”

She chuckles and gently runs her knuckles up and down his good cheek, “You can do that tomorrow when you feel better,” she replies, her smile turning into a smirk, “Plus I think you owe me as many foot rubs as I want after telling everyone about the baby.”

He grimaces and reaches up for her hand, linking their fingers together as he drags her hand to his lips and kisses them, “I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, honey,” she replies, “It’s not how I thought they’d find out. But I’m glad they know,” she says, her smile so wide her cheeks ache, “It makes it feel more real, you know?”

“I know,” he says, and he turns his head and presses a kiss against her belly before he looks back up at her, “I really love you, Em,” he says, the same dopy smile he’d had all day spreading across his face, “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Emotion she doesn’t understand, something she blames entirely on the baby, builds in her chest and she blows out a slow breath, “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

He smiles widely at her, but it slowly fades as if something is dawning on him and he groans, “You’re never going to let me live today down are you?”

She laughs loudly and shakes her head, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “Oh, absolutely not.”

-x-

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adnauseum11 · 2 days

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SITREP (John Price x Reader)

Dinner continues after you get a hold of your emotions.

3.6 k words

CW: mention of deceased parents.

Hopefully I slalomed through this dinner without adding too many personal details so the reader remains as much of a blank slate as possible while retaining some interesting backstory.

This work is part of the SNAFU series - most of which has been posted here and the Masterlist is pinned to my page. Due to threats from apps like lore.fm and Ai data scraping, I'm feeling less and less secure posting my work to Tumblr. I'm toying with the idea of taking it all down, although that feels a bit like closing the barn doors after the horses got out.

This will be the last chapter I post in its entirety here on Tumblr for the time being. Partial chapter updates only going forward. If you want to continue, please consider asking for an invitation from Ao3 to make an account. It's free, and then you can read anything, even the locked fics, like mine. It's worth the little bit of a wait.

link to the chapter over on Ao3

feedback welcome, let me know if you primarily read here on Tumblr or over on Ao3. I asked earlier and the responses seemed to favour Ao3. Not the case? Let me know!

sorry for folks on the taglist - let me know if this upcoming change works for you or if you'd rather not be tagged if it's not the full chapter. I'm trying some stuff out, love to have your thoughts.

You take a few long moments in front of a large gilded mirror to breathe deeply, shaking off the lingering pall of grief, occupying your hands by checking your hair and make-up. John had been out of the country when your parents had been killed, unreachable for long months while you struggled to keep your ship afloat amongst the ensuing chaos. The situation had left you de-stabilized for longer than you cared to admit, John more familiar with the aftermath – the constant fighting with David and wild emotional dysregulation that he had weathered with equanimity. You can’t help but wonder what your parents would think about you dating the man you’d been fast friends with for all these years. Would your mother think it inevitable or inconceivable that you would see John in a new light after everything you had been through? You’re touching up your lipstick when Michelle’s face appears over your shoulder in the reflection.

“Are you ok? I’m sorry if Kate upset you. She’s prone to prying and forgets herself sometimes.”

“It’s fine, the emotion takes me by surprise every now and then. Needed a minute to get my head on straight, as John would say.”

You answer as you square your shoulders, turning to face the other woman. Michelle nods sympathetically, twisting her fingers together in front of herself.

“I’m sorry for your loss. John is pretty concerned; I think he would have come in after you himself if I hadn’t offered to come check on you.”

You give the other woman a reassuring smile, gently rolling your eyes at the unsurprising news of John’s overprotective streak. She carries on before you can make a weak joke about his hovering.

“You guys are pretty serious, hm? He didn’t call you his girlfriend when he took Kate to task about being too intrusive, he said you were his partner.”

A warmth blooms from the pit of your stomach, and you have to fight to keep your smile from growing into an inappropriately triumphant grin. John was listening after all bouncing around in your mind. Michelle follows you out of the bathroom, chatting easily.

“It’s nice to see him with someone that loosens him up. I can’t remember the last time we did something like this. There was a time where I didn’t think he would ever relax. I swear his shoulders were habitually around his ears most of the time I saw him. I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you, we’ve had our challenges so far but have come out the other side stronger I think.”

You squeeze John’s shoulder again as you step around his seat, his hand coming up to rest on your side protectively before you sit, his attention zeroing in on you.

“It’s alright, I was just caught off guard. Everything is fine.”

You reassure him, squeezing his wrist before his hand slips away again. Kate is contrite.

“I apologize, it was tactless to ask such a personal question.”

With a smile and a wave of your hand you try to place her at ease, not wanting dinner to grind to an uncomfortable halt.

“No, no, you couldn’t have known. Quite alright. I’m usually better behaved, I blame the red wine on an empty stomach for making me emotional.”

John huffs, having seen you far worse for wear but satisfied all is well if you still have a sense of humour. Kate’s face also relaxes into one of relief, and they both sag back into their chairs slightly.

“Are you a cigar aficionado as well, Kate? John’s been wanting to come here since it opened.”

“Only when we’re playing poker. The ‘lil missus doesn’t like the smoke.”

Michelle takes a half-hearted swat at her wife who smiles in return, shrugging slightly as if the truth would come out regardless.

“No more smoking inside if everything works out, sorry John.”

Michelle adds with a small smile in John’s direction. He nods, as if he was expecting the news.

“Fair enough. I’m not smoking as much as I used to these days. Although I am interested to pop downstairs and see what their selection is like. I was gifted a beautiful lighter for Christmas, would be a shame to not use it a little more.”

The look John sends your way makes your skin prickle again. Not just with the desire that’s been simmering between you two all night but backed with the warmth of genuine deep-seated affection. It makes you want to crawl on to his lap and mess up his perfect tie despite all the onlookers. He reads the look on your face and the corner of his mouth quirks up. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he reaches into his inner jacket pocket, finally breaking eye contact to hand over the vintage lighter to Kate’s curious reach.

Your eyes follow it as she turns it over, examining the silver rectangle. It has a unique arm mechanism for lighting, effectively stamping out the flame when shut. It’s all hand wrought, the screws on the bottom for refilling the chambers individually made. There’s a delicate filigree up the corners, leaving the worn space in the middle empty for the engraving you had commissioned with John’s initials. John had been thrilled with your small gift, it had immediately joined his wallet and watch as an essential item he carried around every day.

“It’s a 1928 Kickstarter from Colibri. No idea where she found one in such good shape, it works like a dream.”

Kate tries the lighting arm and it swings upwards easily, a flame springing forth almost instantly. She snaps it shut again with a satisfying click and offers it to Michelle to inspect. You take a sip of your wine to avoid John’s intent gaze on the side of your face, certain that if you look over, you’ll give in to the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him. You can practically feel him willing you to turn and he only relents when Michelle hands the lighter back, a knowing smile hovering at the corners of her mouth.

“Looks like she’s got a homerun here. That’s a lovely piece, John.”

“I had to look for a while to find one in good working order.”

You supply, pleased these women who seem to know John so well are impressed with your gift.

“You know who else would appreciate that? Simon.”

Kate gestures to the lighter in John’s hand, raising her eyebrow at him in an expression you don’t understand. Michelle turns to face her wife immediately, concerned.

“Kate, no. No work stuff.”

“What? John will want to know.”

Kate’s tone is innocent, but her wife’s posture tells another story.

“Know what?”

John is cautious, returning the lighter to his inner pocket slowly, his eyes tracking from Michelle to Kate.

“He’s asked for the paperwork to be discharged; he’s going to retire. Making noise about moving back to this neck of the woods.”

John hums and his hand settles on your forearm, making you glance over at him in surprise. You’re fairly certain he’s unaware he’s reached out and grabbed you, his focus solely on Kate’s face. Kate notices the knee-jerk reaction though, and you watch her face rapidly go through a series of complicated emotions you couldn’t name even if pressed.

“You’re right, I do want to know.”

John’s tone of voice has a measured calmness to it that belies the grip his hand has on your forearm.

“Well, this is all very cryptic. Who is Simon?”

You don’t dislodge his hand, raising an eyebrow at him when he slowly turns away from Kate to explain.

“Simon was my Lieutenant. He’s had a… rough go lately. Not surprised he’s wanting out but did he say what he plans to do?”

John answers your question broadly before directing another question back towards Kate. Michelle sighs, and you get the impression that this hi-jacking of the conversation happens more often than she condones.

“No, not to me. Nor anyone else as far as I know. I was hoping maybe you could check in on him.”

“Hm. Yeah, could do – “

John is interrupted by dinner arriving. Everything is laid out still steaming and fragrant, fresh from the kitchen. Michelle shakes her head at the platter that is set before Kate, disbelief written across her face. John’s plate isn’t much better, the thick slab of meat before him making your eyebrows raise.

“Is this a military thing?”

You ask Michelle in a stage whisper, John letting go of your arm to attend to his enormous meal. He’s got a baked potato and lightly roasted green beans to get through as well, never mind the huge cut of meat. Kate’s lobster tail and steak take up most of the plate before her, with a potato of her own nestled beside a garden salad.

“No, it’s an excellent food thing.”

John answers, his eyes crinkling in good humour. Kate makes a sound of agreement before adding with a smile.

“And it’s a John’s paying kind of thing.”

“Kate!”

Michelle’s back to scolding her wife but John just smiles, not offended in the least.

“She’s earned it, Michelle. Don’t worry.”

“Lord help us, don’t encourage her John. I haven’t decided yet how I feel about you two not working together anymore.”

Kate smirks at that and clinks her glass against John’s, and in a flash the depth of their friendship becomes clear. You refocus on your own food, wondering again at this part of John’s life you’ve heretofore been excluded from. You soothe your slightly wounded ego by reminding yourself that John’s trying at least to bridge the formidable gap between his work life and what you consider to be his ‘real’ life. His enjoyment of the company across the table is evident to you though, giving you pause. Michelle picks up on your thoughtful turn and catches your eye as you cut into the tender side of the filet mignon in front of you.

“They’re always having side conversations, it’s insanely annoying. It was worth putting up with it to know someone out there had her back when they were working. Now, it’s just taking the piss, as you say over here.”

She narrows her eyes at John who has the good grace to look slightly chastised. Kate ignores her wife, digging into the lobster with gusto.

“John doesn’t talk to me about his work much. It’s all classified, apparently. I just found out that you two existed the other day.”

You try to gently joke with her, brushing off the fact that you know next to nothing about John’s work other than the broadest strokes. Michelle sends you a kind look and nods in understanding while Kate stares down John over her buttered lobster.

“Field work is difficult - Kate you know that. It’s safer for everyone if there’s nothing to leverage. As recently proved.”

You barely understand the context of John’s words, leverage striking you as an odd phrase when talking about relationships. You gather he’s talking about the break-in and subsequent shit show only just recently put behind you. Kate understands his meaning straight away though and shrugs, arching a brow across the table at John who’s paused in eating his meal.

“God love ya John, you always pick the hardest possible path forward. I get where you’re coming from, just not sure on the execution in reality.”

“Could you two speak English, please?”

Michelle interjects, her eyes on your face as you quietly puzzle over the layered conversation going on. If you knew her better you would say the look on her face was sympathetic. Kate explains herself for your benefit, her eyes flicking between you and John.

“I worked with John for years and if it makes you feel any better, he didn’t tell me that you existed until recently either. He seemed to be under the impression that keeping the spheres of his life from overlapping was the safest way to operate. The idea being that it would keep you from becoming a target. I’d say forewarned is forearmed, myself. But I understand his logic. His work was dangerous.”

John’s face is suddenly serious, his hands still, waiting for your reaction. You’re trying to piece together what little you know of his work and the events of the last few months. The idea that he’d been living what amounts to a dual life is jarring for some reason. You like to think you know John well, and this night is reminding you there’s a lot you are unaware of. Kate’s revelation that she didn’t know him as well as she thought either is cold consolation.

“So, keeping everyone separate in their own little box was about safety?”

“It’s always about your safety.”

John answers and you get the impression there’s more to be said but he’s holding his tongue. You decide to leverage it out of him later. What possible danger could there be in meeting these women now that wasn’t there when he was working? You exchange a long, silent look with him that must convey your skepticism because he only physically relaxes when you eat another bite of dinner, seemingly letting it go for the moment. Kate watches the tense exchange between you with rapt interest as she polishes off the rest of her lobster and salad.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but my dinner is simply delicious.”

Michelle breaks the silence, reaching across her wife’s arm to snag her gin and tonic and take a delicate sip. You smile in appreciation at her attempt to break the newest layer of tension, Kate’s chagrined face only making your grin wider. You exchange an amused look with Michelle as she hands the gin and tonic back to her annoyed wife.

“The food is really delectable. I’m getting full but it tastes so good! I’m going to risk popping my dress.”

Michelle laughs and Kate smiles over a bite of steak.

“I know John can put away a lot of food, but these portions are massive you guys. I’m impressed.”

You continue, a hint of awe entering your tone as you watch Kate’s methodical approach to her plate.

“I suspect they don’t half-ass things around here.”

Kate supplies, looking pointedly at the rich appointments around the big dining room. From the chandeliers to the floor length window dressings, the restaurant screams sumptuousness. John is just as regimented about his food as Kate, most of his steak gone and half of the side dishes remaining. He huffs in acknowledgment of Kate’s words, amused.

“They haven’t half-assed their prices so I would hope not.”

You smile into your last bite of filet mignon, relaxing into the gentle banter again. You take a moment while finishing what you can of your dinner to observe the way the group easily pivots from topic to topic, and the familiarity of it is striking to you. John is himself with them, there is no pretence in his conduct and you puzzle over his insistence on keeping you separated from people he gets along with so well. If what he says is to be believed, John spent his career being concerned about your safety such that he went to extreme lengths to keep you protected from its dangers. That’s not the behavior of a man who has only recently decided he wanted more from your friendship. His admission about the dress you're wearing turning him on years before he asked you out rattles around in your brain like a marble you can’t stop rolling around. His hand on your forearm draws you back to the present, and you look at him, his vibrant blue eyes taking in your dazed expression.

“Do you want more wine? I’m having coffee. Kate’s having another gin and Michelle is going to have a decaf.”

He asks, filling you in quickly once he clocks that you were lost in thought.

“Yes, that would be lovely. Please.”

The return of your manners earns you a warm smile and John turns to the waiter to relay your order. The dishes are cleared and you spend the next three quarters of an hour forcing yourself to stay present in the moment and not withdraw to puzzle over all you’ve learned. You find yourself naturally drawn to Michelle, her dry wit cutting and more than a match for her formidable and straightforward wife. Kate and John seem to be able to have a conversation within a conversation, and you quickly learn what Michelle means about it being annoying. It especially grates on your nerves as it’s typically you and John with a litany of inside jokes scattered through any conversation. Having the shoe on the other foot is less fun than you imagined. John excuses himself to the bathroom, which you know is code for paying the bill and you steel yourself to spend the next few moments alone with his friends.

“You’ve had a lot of change over the last few months, what with starting to date John and then moving in so quickly after the break in. How are you finding living with him?”

Kate’s got the question out as soon as John’s big frame leaves the general vicinity of the table.

“It’s like anything, a bit of an adjustment but it’s been good. He’s far neater than me, maybe you should ask him what living with me is like instead.”

You laugh before you continue, mentally acknowledging your vastly different decorating styles. John’s a minimalist where you love fun and funky tchotchkes. Your flat had been crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks. Moving in with John had necessitated parting ways with a lot of your less sentimental pieces. The lowkey dispute about the Christmas decorations had hardly been a solitary event.

“So far it's been lovely, he lets me have my way most of the time and pairs the most delicious wines with dinner. I have no complaints or salacious details, sorry ladies.”

You keep your most recent fight to yourself, unwilling to expose John or yourself to the scrutiny of these women, even if they mean well. In the end, you had gotten what you wanted there too, which was to be heard and considered in matters that concerned you. Which by all accounts, seems to have landed for John.

“He plays it pretty close to the vest too, as previously established. Was hoping you would be a bit more forthcoming.”

Kate smiles, not unkindly, but her rampant curiosity might as well be a neon sign flashing over her face. Her wife elbows her arm with all the subtlety of a gunshot and the dirty blonde schools her face back into something more restrained. You offer a smile and swirl the dregs of your wine, unsure what the other woman was hoping to learn.

“He snores when he’s been drinking?”

Kate gives a startled laugh and shakes her head quickly.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“I suspect the John you know and the John I know are the same, we just see him in different scenarios.”

“True enough to a point. He doesn’t let me have my way as often, I'm going to guess.”

You can feel heat creeping over your cheeks at the suggestive tone and she carries on before you can speak.

“I’m more interested in you, than how he behaves when he’s with you, to clarify what I meant. You went to university?”

You nod dumbly, the wine doing nothing to help your mind focus. Kate rolls along with more questions, to her wife’s open annoyance.

“Kate, leave her alone. Seriously.”

“Where do you work? Have you been there long?”

“Uh, I quit, before Christmas. After the break-in John and I talked and I’m going to find something else. I wasn’t happy there. So, technically working nowhere right now.”

“Were you using your degree?”

“No, it was customer service essentially with some data entry. Soul sucking. Awful.”

“What would you prefer to do?”

“I’m not sure. I think being a docent would be fun but those positions can be quite hard to get.”

Michelle’s distracted from trying to back Kate off this line of questioning by this tidbit of information, and her attention swings to you.

“Oh! Like at the Tower of London? They were phenomenal! That would be a fun job.”

“Yes, exactly. Having new faces to chat to every day and all that history around would be – “

“What does John think?”

Kate interrupts, the curiosity on her face in full force. The wine answers before you can corral your thoughts into something more even-tempered.

“I haven't mentioned it yet, besides, why would he care? He won’t be the one working there.”

Michelle tilts her head backs and laughs, John’s quizzical face popping into view at the end of the table eventually subduing her mirth.

“Hate to interrupt but everyone ready?”

You exchange a smile with Michelle and nod at John, standing and linking you hand with his outstretched one. He leads you back through the restaurant to collect your coats from the coat check. Afterwards you stand on the chilly sidewalk to exchange hugs and goodbyes, a whispered good luck sent in to Michelle’s ear that she acknowledges with an extra squeeze before letting you go. Kate bundles her wife into a waiting cab with a final wave out the window, and John convinces you to go peruse the cigars downstairs before heading home yourselves. If things work out for the two women, he reasons Kate will need a celebratory cigar to herald in their newest adventure. You can’t say no to his sentimental reasoning and find yourself an hour later, back in the same place on the sidewalk, John’s newest purchases tucked into your clutch to protect against the damp while you wait for the valet.

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sashaisready · 2 days

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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 8 - Born with a weak heart

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Just smut! a smidge of reader insecurity

I'm back! Onto the smut. I'm sure this new arrangement won't come back to bite anyone in the ass...

(gif doesn't represent how reader looks)

The make-out session continued, at some point Bucky even managed to unhook your bra without you noticing until your straps began falling down your shoulders.

You gave him a little teasing smack on the chest as you continued to kiss him. “Bad boy,” you whispered as you struck him lightly.

“You know full well saying stuff like that is only going to encourage me,” he grinned devilishly as he pulled you into him and deepened the kiss.

“Friends don’t do this…” you protested futilely as he began to kiss the column of your neck.

“I dunno…this feels pretty friendly to me,” he chuckled as you could practically feel his wicked smile against your skin.

Every red flag was waving, every warning deep in your gut was screaming at you, but you were unable to stop. He was like a drug, and you couldn’t resist coming back for another hit. You told yourself it would be fine…after all, this was the perfect solution, right? No attachments…no drama…just a little fun while you were in town. That’s all.

Right?

As your inner monologue spiralled and you tried to (unconvincingly) assure yourself you had everything in hand, Bucky surprised you by picking you and raising you above him. You squawked at the sudden change of pace as he manoeuvred himself out of the passenger seat and into the driver’s, placing you down in the passenger seat where he’d been. He grabbed the keys and nonchalantly tossed them from one hand to the other, then started the engine.

“Bucky…what the f-,” you scoffed in disbelief.

“Taking you to my place,” he replied cutting you off as he began reversing out of the lot, his hand pressed against your headrest as he looked over his shoulder.

“Excuse me??” you replied shrilly.

“What? We can go to your place if you like…just figured it might be weird as it’s your grandma’s and all”.

“Very presumptuous to assume I want to go back to either,” you jibed.

He shrugged as he pulled out onto the road. “Do you not…?”

“…I mean I do. Yeah. But I don’t like you assuming,” you admitted stubbornly. “…And I didn’t give you permission to drive Sally”.

“I’m a very careful driver. And Sally is fine with it, aren’t you girl?” he cooed as he patted the dash.

You looked over at him from and could see he was grinning. Like the cat who got the damn cream.

“Fine,” you sighed, admitting defeat. “But your place better be nice. I have standards, you know”.

“Of course, Sugar. Don’t you worry, you’ll get the full VIP treatment. Guest of honour”.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky’s bed, your shirt buttons undone and your jeans half off.

It had all happened so fast.

He had driven you back to his place (in your car) and practically ripped you through the front door. Turns out he had an apartment above the auto shop the MC owned. It was…surprisingly nice. You had expected half empty beer bottles and motorcycle grease…but it was…neat. Monochromatic furnishings and stripped back wooden floors. Nicely framed bike prints adorned the walls. As long as you didn’t think about how many girls had likely crossed that same threshold…it was pleasant.

“Don’t look so surprised, Sug,” he had ribbed as you took in the space. “I’m not some frat boy. I take care of my things”.

“Is that so?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow as his hand found your lower back.

“Oh yes,” he purred as he pulled you into him. “I’m very much a man, not a boy”.

“Big boy, huh?” you giggled as that dangerous mouth of his moved to your ear.

“You’ll find out…”

And then your earlobe was between his teeth, and suddenly you were both on his bed and both his and your jeans had been unzipped. And you knew it would all come back to bite you hard in the ass - but you were unable to swim against the current, so you just let yourself drift with the stream.

He yanked at your top, pulling it over your head and discarding it onto the floor. Your bra quickly followed suit and he took a second to admire your now revealed breasts, looking at them with a degree of awe as you felt your face flush at the intensity of his attention. You instinctively went to cover them with your hands, not used to being looked at like that, but he frowned and ripped your fingers away as if you’d greatly insulted him. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and gently the caressed the other with his hand, and you laid back and mewed as his tongue danced along the bud of your nipple.

“Beautiful,” he muttered as he kissed you on the mouth once more.

As the two of you kissed you tugged on his t-shirt, signalling that you wanted it off. He enthusiastically obliged and you helped him pull it over his head. You nearly gasped at the sight of his bare chest, taut and wide and impossibly sculpted. An MC tattoo adorned one of his pecs. He watched your face carefully as you soon found the scar tissue where flesh met metal, a stark reminder of his trauma and his past. You thought you saw a moment of anxiety in his otherwise ravenous eyes. Unflinchingly, you ran your fingers over the still-angry red welts where they jarringly swam into metal. You tenderly kissed the scars and across the cool steel and turned your face back to his.

“So are you”.

That glimpse of apprehension in his eyes or whatever it was suddenly disappeared forever. He smiled, and suddenly he was the same cocky Bucky he always was. He pulled you back down to the mattress and you revelled in the sensation of his warm skin against yours as your breasts pressed against his chest. He shimmied your jeans off and peppered your thighs with butterfly kisses as you wriggled and pushed against the sheets.

“You still good?” he asked inquisitively as his fingers wrapped around the sides of your underwear. You looked up at him and nodded eagerly with your consent, causing him to grin and pull the fabric down past your ankles – carelessly throwing into the pile of everything else he’d removed from you.

You didn’t have much time to react before he buried his face between your legs and unleashed his tongue. You squeaked and writhed at the sensation, instinctively pulling back, but he merely tightened his hold on your thighs and pulled you closer against him. You were unable to contain the embarrassing squeal you let out when he found your clit, circling his fingertip in your essence and exploring every part of you. He slowly added a finger inside of you and sent you dizzy. As he lapped at you greedily, you threw yourself back against the pillows and closed your eyes. Your hands fisted the sheets as you bit your lip, everything going a bit fuzzy as your muscles started to slacken and sag one by one. You realised you were making whimpering noises, but they seemed far away – as if in a different room.

You felt yourself near closer and closer to the precipice as he began to vary the pressure and speed, humming triumphantly as he took you apart. Bastard. He was enjoying this. If you had the strength to look up, you knew you’d see him thrilled to reduce you to a gibbering wreck.

He added a second finger and that seemed to erase any final coherence you held. Your climax hit you fast and you cried out as your head rocked against the pillows, pitifully gyrating against his hand as you bathed in the warmth of the sensation. He quickly moved his face away from between your legs as he continued to work you over with his fingers, unable to resist enjoying your orgasm along with you as he aligned his hips with yours and pressed himself into you – his jeans still halfway down his thighs. Through your haze you felt the outline of him through his boxers, sending an urgent siren into the lizard part of your brain, you needed this man badly. He was all you needed. He kissed you sloppily, the sheer lewdness of your climax still dusted across his lips causing another aftershock as everything stilled and slowed.

Panting vigorously, you sat up, but he gently pulled you back down.

“Easy, tiger,” he grinned as he pulled you against him, “no sudden movements”.

You rolled your eyes but were quietly grateful for the reprieve. “Oh hush,” you chided, “let’s dial the ego down a little…”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, holding you in his arms and pulling you flush against him as you laid together. The two of you were still, serene, and for a moment you weren’t just two ‘friends’ unable to deny your physical chemistry. No, this felt intimate. Close. You traced a finger down the side of his face, carefully exploring his features, his freckles, his scars. Memorising it all as if you’d need it for later. He watched you intently and did the same to you, the stark frigidity of his metal digit a contrast to your flushed skin. Nothing was spoken, but nothing needed to be.

You found yourself lost in those cerulean eyes of his. It was almost…soothing. You weren’t thinking about Granny, or the house, or your grief. You weren’t agonising about where you stood with Bucky or what you ‘were’ together. You weren’t preparing your next quip or jibe for him. You were just existing quietly. It had been so long since the buzzing noise in your head was quiet. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel peace.

It seemed to happen both quickly and slowly at the same time. He moved on top of you as he continued to smother you with kisses, no inch of your body untouched. Suddenly he was between your thighs, his jeans discarded. You moved to place your hand inside his boxers, but he caught it and gruffly whispered, “another time,” as he moved your hand back down, “I can’t wait any longer” he told you with urgency. He parted your thighs and then he was between them as he rustled his underwear off, he gave you another deep kiss as he gradually pushed himself inside. You gasped at the feel of him, his size and his fullness a shock (despite your suspicions…) He held you tightly but moved gently, muttering whispers of praise and admiration for you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You look like an angel like this.

His nose met yours and he scrutinised your face carefully to ensure you were on board. Then he began to thrust…slowly at first but building his strokes up to a faster tempo as you bucked your hips in time with his. You gasped and sighed and moaned as he moved, and he greedily devoured each sound you made as he shared his own with you in return. It became more frantic, hands tangled in hair, fingernails scraped down backs, saliva glistening on skin. You shifted and turned him, moving so that you were in his lap while he was still seated inside. He smirked at your initiative and his hands gripped your waist. One hot, one cold. You began to bounce, building and building as you huffed and mewled. He aided the rhythm by moving your waist in time to your tempo, but let you set the pace and conduct. It all felt so good. So right. You were on fire but in the best possible way. You didn’t care how your body might look, if you might be sweating or what kind of noises or facial expressions you might be making. Nothing mattered except how it felt and being in this moment with him.

You came hard, digging your fingers almost brutally into his shoulders as you closed your eyes and let out a low moan. He joined you, his forehead against your chin as he groaned against your neck. His hips stuttered as you felt the warmth of his release fill you, vulgar but so desperately needed.

You both stayed as you were for a moment, regaining your bearings and letting your heavy breaths plateau. He tilted your head with his finger and gave you a kiss so tender and chaste you could almost forget you were dripping with his spend. He looked up at you and smiled.

“I’m glad I hired you…”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

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sabertoothwalrus · 22 days

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wait a second wait a second wait a second wait a second wait a s

#dungeon meshi #adventure time #senshi of izganda #izutsumi #ice king #marceline the vampire queen #simon petrikov #my art #knowing like. everything about me. I'm surprised it took me this long to make this connection

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thegoldenelite · 1 year

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The number of times I've watched bte 348 is ridiculous, but i can't stop watching it...

#it's like c ocomelon to m e #the part that really kills m e tho is when k enny a pologizes to h angman. wondering if h angman could ever forgive him #because i know for a fact that k enny doesn't forgive himself for what he did.#it's part of the reason why he took so long to make up with h angman. he was anger too but also #the guilt. he did the same thing with i bushi. he couldn't talk about him for very long without wanting to change the subject #but also he couldn't face i bushi (in the hallway) bc of the guilt he felt for betraying him #(as well as other thing of course but i'm focusing on the guilt)#like we know k enny STILL hasn't forgiven himself for that. When h angman betrayed the b uck #(grabbed nick's leg so the b ucks would lose their chance to c hallenge for the tag belts)#k enny was asked what he thought about it and he said something like: this is something h angman will have to #live with for the rest of his l ife.#this implies k enny STILL feels remorse for stopping i bushi from winning the i wgp belt 5 years later(8 now). Even tho i bushi forgave him #well before their reunion at new y ear's d ash #what i'm saying is that he did so much to h angman. i can understand why this reunion took so long. how could k enny face him after that.#probably in that time believing he didn't deserve h angman back in his lifetoo. As well as his forgiveness/etc(again did the same w i bushi #i could see k enny never fully forgiving himself for the things he did to h angman :(. (he did sign a contract in h angman's b lood)#he also didn't forgive h angman which is so v alid too. their tag run is s ad/tough to watch. k enny trying everything to make #their tag t eam work cause he c ares about h angman and tag t eams but h angman just not being there for it. oof #the thing that surprised me tho was that k enny a pologized first. i thought it would be a while till either did but no.#i believe k enny learned from the past. a pologize now. talk it out. and work on the r elationship TOGETHER. that's g rowth :').#oh man didn't mean to r ant about k enny's guilt and how he's done this all before do you still think im h-#no but i l ove over a nalyzing w restling m en lol. this ep was full of interesting #i nteractions. i know we were all focused on the nod but this ep delivered on so much more than that.#rin posting #i thinks it's why i couldn't be mad at k enny not mentioning h angman throughout this feud. it would just be too p ainful for him to do so #he l oves/c ares about his ex s too much. a ctually #does any of this make sense. shrugs.#anyway lol.

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therealbeachfox · 3 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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matchingbatbites · 3 months

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Happy Valentine's, all. <3

Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.

After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"

"It is, who is this?"

"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."

The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"

Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.

"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."

There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."

He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."

That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.

He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.

It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.

Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."

"Spend it with me."

Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.

Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."

Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.

And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"

A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."

Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.

A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.

He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"

Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."

He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."

Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.

"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"

"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"

Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.

The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."

God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."

Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."

The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.

"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."

It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.

"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."

Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."

By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:

The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.

The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.

(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")

#i didn't plan on writing over 1k for valentine's #but here we are #steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

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pellucid-constellations · 5 months

Text

Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate.

He had learned that early on.

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker.

But you were also his mate.

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization.

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows.

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats.

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise.

“Azriel—”

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.”

“You were talking with Rhys?”

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak.

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate.

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea.

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough.

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated.

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you.

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did.

But then Rhys decided you were needed.

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare.

“Reconsider.”

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time.

“Send Majda.”

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.”

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words.

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—”

“Rhysand.”

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…”

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.”

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?”

“No,” he replied, quick and low.

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.”

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that.

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it.

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought.

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant.

Why couldn’t he come, again?

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him.

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered.

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.”

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving.

“Here to see us off, Az?”

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were.

So, you went to Windhaven.

And then you came home hurt.

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries.

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue.

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it.

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds.

Azriel thought he heard you scream.

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him.

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?”

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.”

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped.

“She’s your mate?”

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room.

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off.

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now.

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you.

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe.

He was a fool.

“Azriel?”

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up.

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze.

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there.

It took him a moment, but he finally relented.

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—”

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest.

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something.

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto.

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth.

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse.

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…”

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow.

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—”

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?”

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie.

“Only when I dream.”

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life.

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #azriel

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predestinatos · 2 months

Text

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

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letterlitter · 2 months

Text

Pacify Her

Lando Norris x reader

•Tags: smut, toxic Lando, hate-fuck, makeup sex

•Loosely based on a song by Melanie Martinez with the same title.

•Wordcount: 1.6k

It was unbearable how Lando squeezed this new girl's thigh and whispered in her ear. You knew it was to make you jealous, he was a tease even more when you two were in a relationship. You had really bad arguments that let to the decision of splitting, but since you didn't want to break up the friend group, you agreed to just say the relationship ended on good terms and decided to be friends which was a total lie and both of you knew it.

Now, only a couple months after everything, Lando had shown up with a new "girlfriend" which drove you absolutely mad how uncouth he could be. Bringing this girl in your group out of the blue fully knowing that neither you nor himself had moved on from that deep, long term thing you had.

She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend and get your validation so bad. You didn't know if Lando had told her you were his ex. He didn't even dare mention it when he was introducing her. You automatically hated her, although her big brown eyes seemed lovely and innocent. She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into. You pitied her cluelessness.

You noticed Lando's griny glances at you, he kept making sure you were looking before each kiss he left on her cheek. The bastard had all his moves coordinated and planned but you had been with him for too long not to see right through his facade.

You were at your limit, who was he to inflict this hurt on you after all that he had done?

Rage made your body dense as you walked towards Lando's house the night after, when you made sure nobody else was with him. His Friday nights had always been free on purpose to sleep until noon, game, and sleep again. You remember trying to wake him up for lunch and he was dead asleep because he had stayed awake to play with friends.

You rang and he buzzed the door open without asking. Walking towards the stairs you noticed the rose garden you had planted in a corner. The thought of Lando's face after a thorn had poked him in the arm and how he treated the flowers as his enemies forced your lips into a fainted smile. You hated that his memories made you happy. You hated it was him you had those memories with.

You pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on why you were here. Lando opened the door, a confused look on his face, "y/n? What is it why are you here?"

"We need to talk." And you stormed in.

"Please come in, make yourself comfortable." The sarcasm in his voice was familiar, and now that you weren't in love with him, infuriating.

"Want to talk about what?"

"About how you're being such an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like this Lando I know you did those things on purpose."

"Damn I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his sarcastic tone. You hated it.

You pushed his chest back in anger, "stop playing with me. You know damn well this girl you keep bringing is just a doll to mess with my head."

Lando smiled as if he had been expecting these words from you.

"This is way too low, even for you Lando."

"Everyone thinks we're friends, why can't friends introduce their new girlfriends to their other friends?"

"I'm not everyone. I know this is a lie stop trying to make it sound casual."

"What do you expect me to do? Stay single until you're over me?"

"Yes!" The loud sound that exited your mouth surprised you as it did Lando. You never planned to sound weak or needy. You just wanted to get closure, "look. I'm not trying to control your life or whatever, but what you're doing to make me jealous is messy and fucking pathetic. Fix it. Goodbye." And you started walking towards the door.

"Well did it work?" Lando's voice stopped you. He sounded sort of genuine for the first time in months.

You kept silent and still, wondering what to answer. Turning around to face him you said, "well do you love her?"

"Of course I do. She's very real."

You took one step closer, "stop lying."

Lando took a step closer to you, "stop being jealous."

You took one more step, "she looks way too innocent for you. I pity her."

Lando took another step , "I can teach her."

-"Funny."

-"I know."

-"You're insufferable."

-"I know."

Silence.

Now you were only one step away from eachother. Only one breath. You were mad at him and the tension felt heavy in the air as the sun was halfway set. His eyes looked crazy blue in the last golden rays of sunshine coming in fron his big windows. His face stingy and lips so soft it made you even more angry at him.

Your self control was getting shaky and you felt it shatter when Lando swinged his arms up to hold your face to kiss you deeply on the lips.

You squeezed your hand on his arm in protest to rip him off of you before it was too late but he was desperate.

He kept kissing you harder and harder like you gave him air to breathe.

You hated this. You hated the way his body pulled you in and you hated how it felt so good. He knew his way with you. Every single button, all the nooks and crannies.

You finally eased into the kiss, letting go of Lando's hoodie that was balled up in your fist and started to kiss him back.

His hands unzipped your sweatshirt and pulled it off your arms as soon as he felt that you wanted this as well. You let him. He slipped his hand under your tshirt, pinching your belly, messaging your back.

You let out a heavy exhale.

"I missed you." He whispered into your mouth, putting his lips on yours before you could say anything back.

Lando's hands moved down to your jeans but you held onto his hand to prevent him from going on. He stopped kissing you.

It was all too much for you and you hated him for being so good at this. You stared dead into his eyes, knowing full well that you were helpless, and said, "you fucking bastard."

He giggled when you pressed your debating lips on his again.

You let him kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your belly. You let him get down on his knees for you, between your legs.

His wet tongue on you made you jump in a surprising pleasure. The tip of his tongue moving in circular motions, in search of the place that made you moan the loudest. You tried fighting the sensation but failed miserably when he raised his finger to your entrance, messaging and warning about what's to come.

The moan that left your lips after he pushed his finger inside you was involuntary. You could feel Lando smiling on your pussy with the sound. He kept moving his tongue with your hand in his curls; pumping his finger and pulling moans out of you until you felt like you could take it no more. That's when Lando pulled his now soaked finger out and stood up, Leaving you clenching around nothing.

He faced you again to continue his kisses; you could taste yourself on his lips as he took off your tshirt and your bra, leaving you completely naked in the middle of the house. He looked at you once more before taking off his own hoodie you've been pulling on to get rid of since the start, he turned you around and got closer. His bulge rubbing against your butt from under his sweatpants.

"You're so pretty." He whispered into your ear, "wait here okay?"

You turned around to see him almost run to his bedroom to get condoms and you got a chance to take a look at his smooth, tan skin as he walked back.

Lando kissed you shoulder and your back as he slowly bent you over the handle of the couch. Messaging your body as he bent on you to let you feel his skin, his pants were off, your could feel his hard dick against the back of your leg. He adjusted himself on you and pushed in. You weren't hesitant to moan anymore. His length inside you was a familiar sensation of pleasure after this long. He was all you needed.

Lando started pumping deeper into you, making you feel fully stretched. You could hear his little groans and exhales when he grabbed your neck to make you arch your back more, pulling your head towards his mouth. "I bet nobody fucked you like this since I was gone." And he started moving faster. You pushed back your body into his, blurring the lines infront of your eyes.

You came within seconds after that.

He pulled out of you. You turned around quickly, grabbed his shoulders and lead him to the couch to sit down.

"Could you ever teach her this?"

And you climbed on top of him, each leg on each side. Leading his still erect dick to your hole and pushing down on him. Lando threw his head back with a moan. You took his hands and put them on your ass. He squeezed his hands with every movement you made.

You started kissing under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. Moans started turning into whimpers and he started pushing up his legs towards you. You both moved faster as you reached your high. You nails dug into Lando's shoulder and his hands tight around your back when you both came and you collapsed into his arms.

****

"What a stupid decision." You said through your panting and you both giggled since you knew you were going to make more.

(This is the first time I'm posting a smut one shot online sorry if it's short or lacking♡)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 smut

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beardedjoel · 5 months

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pretty little wife | sorry, baby

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.

Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.

You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.

You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher.

He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes.

“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.

“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head.

You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard.

His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern.

“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp.

Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.”

“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside.

“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap.

“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now.

“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound.

“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks.

“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it.

“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.

“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up.

“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished.

At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips.

“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.

“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband.

Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”

You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy.

“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.

Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt.

“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.

Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment.

“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.

Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.

“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.

You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.

“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.

He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his.

“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.

You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him.

“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.

“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.

Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.

You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.

“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.

“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.

Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.

“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.

“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.

“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.

“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.

“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world.

“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.

“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.

He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.

“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.”

Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.

“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off.

“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows.

“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch.

“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.”

Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze.

“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch.

“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.

“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you.

“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#sorry for the wait i know its been ages #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

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lovelybrooke · 5 months

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Third-years reactions to reader wanting to leave

Sorry this took forever, I've been relaxing with my family, but it's here now, so enjoy. Also, tell me if you want a separate post for the staff, I'm willing to do one.

First years---second years.

Trey

Trey figures out you're thinking about leaving when Riddle comes to him in tears. It was the first time since his overblot that he saw him so distraught. He honestly didn't know what to think, since he was too busy trying to comfort his friend. When he finally got time alone, he was truly just confused. Why would you want to leave? He knows you've always wanted to go home, and that you've been working on it for a long time, but does that really mean you have to leave? You have a good life here, friends, people who care about you. Leaving doesn't really seem like the right option. He's not as erratic as some of the others, but he definitely goes through some emotions. Mostly confusion, then anger, then understanding. He gets why you want to leave, this world hasn't been that kind to you. But that doesn't' mean he's just going to except it without at least trying to get you to change your mind.

And that's what he does. He explains how leaving could lead to a lot of problems. What if something bad happens when you attempt to leave, like another overblot or Grim goes nuts. Who will be here to keep all these rowdy boys in line? He tries so hard to convince you it's a stupid decision, without making It sounds like he thinks you're stupid. He's a great manipulator, and doesn't exactly feel bad when he has to do so. You need to stay,

Cater

Cater figures it out from simply watching Trey. It was easily figure out something was up when Trey seemed out of it, messing up recipes and not behaving like his usual composed Trey self. Honestly, he should've figured it out sooner, with the supposed "sickness" his housewarden came down with not too long ago. It didn't take a genius to figure out what everyone was so hung up on. You wanted to leave, what's the big deal. Wasn't that your whole goal the entire time? Why is everyone so surprised.

Cater puts up an uncaring front, acting the same around you. He even supports you on your adventures in the future when you eventually leave. However, behind closed doors, he's an absolute reck. Crying as he scrolls through photo after photo of you, some with the both of you, and some that you definitely weren't away he'd taken. He'd can't believe you want to leave, after everything that's happened you'd just abandon them. Abandon him. His anger quickly melts into determination. He's just not good enough yet, that's it. That's fine, he can fix it, he'll make everything perfect for you. He gets Heartslabyul back into shape, mainly their housewarden, and demands perfection. He'll get everything back to the way it was before, and then you won't even think about leaving.

Leona

Leona learns about your plan from Jack. Like a good first year he tells him right away. Leon honestly doesn't care, not because he wants you to leave, the exact opposite really. He just knows there's no way in hell that you're leaving. You've managed to enamor some of the most powerful people imaginable, and you think you'll just be able to leave? That's funny, but no.

He doesn't understand what Jack and Ruggie are so worked up about. So what if there's some stupid mirror, there's no proof it works. Even if it does work, one of them will just find a way to get you back, no big deal.

He huffs and complains when Ruggie demands he talk to you, believing he can talk some sense into you. He shows up at your dorm with an uncaring expression, talking to you blankly. He tells you that there's no chance you can leave, and you should get it out of your little head. He yawns, and lays his large body on your couch, before threatening to break that mirror if you do forget about it. He falls asleep right after, like he didn't just scar you.

Rook

Rook likes to keep an eye on you, party because Vill asks him too, and party because he wants to. Because of this, he finds out fairly quickly, but waits to do anything about it until he's sure it's true. Then, he tells Vil so that an actual plan can be made. Though, he's never that worried. He has faith that his wonderful housewarden will be able to convince you to remain in this world. Even as Vil and Epel are panicking, he's calm and composed the entire time.

There is a part of him though, a small, small part of him, that wonders what life would be like without you. His mind is blank when he tries to do so, however. You've brought so much beauty into his world, without you it would just be cold and grey. He's reminded of this beauty whenever he watches you, you're so brave and compassionate. He's drawn to you in a way he cannot explain, there are never enough words to do so in one sitting. So, instead, he sends you poem after poem, all in different spots each day. He just wants to remind you that people care about you. Though, as time goes on, and the year gets closer to ending, the poems become more and more sinister and creepy. They're filled with dark reminders of what everyone would do to keep you here, with them. The once sweet and loving lines are replaced to be dark and obsessive.

You wonder what Rook truly feels, if the flowery words you came to enjoy were just a front for the deep and obsessed loved he truly felt.

Knowing him you'd never really know.

Vil

Vil learns from Rook, and he can't believe it. You? Leaving? That can be right? Though, Rook came to him with enough evidence for it to be possible. For a second he considers breaking down right there. If you leave, what would everything he'd done be for? He's worked so hard to become someone you'd love, and you're just going to leave him. He doesn't though, he remains calm and poised, and quickly comes up with a plan with Rook. He knows something must be done about this, especially before others find out.

Whenever Vil is done however, he's a mess. He's in shambles, wondering what he could've done better. Maybe if he was prettier, kinder, smarter, just...more, you wouldn't want to leave. He runs through his mind, wondering what he could do to make you stay. In the end, he decides it's best to talk with you, over the phone however, you can't see him like this. He pleads with you to stay, to reconsider. If you're worried about where to stay during the summer, he's sure his father wouldn't mind you staying with them. Do you not feel happy here? What can he do better, please just tell him so he can fix this, so things can go back to normal, please?

Idia

Idia learns from his brother, who's distraught. Honestly, he should've expected this. He knew this great thing would never last, someone who was kind to him and treated him like a person rather than a bother. He knew you'd get bored and leave. It doesn't make it any less disappointing when you do though. He sits in his room and doesn't leave, which isn't that strange for Idia. What is strange is him being so motivated to keep you here. He hacks into any devices that you have, seeing who you're talking to incase someone convinced you to leave. He also watches you through these devices, making sure you don't actually do anything you might regret.

He almost feels bad, snooping through your stuff like this. Emphasis on almost, however, since this isn't the first time he's done so. It's like he's numb to invading your privacy. He justifies it by believing that he's doing good, he's preventing you from leaving them, from ruining everything everyone has worked for. So what if he's snooping through your phone and reporting back anything suspicious to the others, it's your fault for wanting to leave them so badly. Even with all the mental gymnastics he does, he never once tries to contact you, too afraid of what you might say or do. He doesn't want to loose your friendship, and he can't stand you being mad at him. He's content with watching you from a distance, regardless of how creepy it is.

Lilia

Lilia's known. From the moment the thought was put into your small human head he's known you were planning on leaving. Honestly, he doesn't blame you, the children around this school are anything but subtle. If it wasn't for the lack of resources, you'd would've left this place sooner. But no, you're still here, and you've wormed your way into the hearts of these precious students, and now you have to face the consequences. He doesn't see a point in contacting you or trying to get you to change your mind. He knows that you're serious about it from the befuddled reactions from the students. In fact, he spends most of his time trying to comfort Malleus, since Sebek just had to go and tell him.

"Oh don't worry Malleus, they're not gonna leave." He coons to the poor dragon and he wallows. In truth, he fears for you, for Malleus's reaction. He knows it's only a matter of time before his sadness becomes rage, and at that point Lilia isn't sure he can help.

Lilia doesn't want you to leave. In fact, if you were just a bit smaller he's sure he would've picked you up and never let you go. You're just adorable, thinking you can leave them. And even if you do, there's always a possibility that they'll just find a way to you.

Malleus

In rained the day the news was brought to Malleus from Sebek. Well, rain was really and understatement, it was more like a thunderstorm, rattling all the windows in the school, threatening them to break. It was no secret that the Diasomnia housewarden was enamored with you, he never cared to hide it. So when rain and wind came crashing down, no one spoke a word about it, too afraid of what might happen to them.

Malleus can't possibly wonder why'd you want to leave, they've spoiled you to no end, provided you a home and care, practically worshipped you. He's personally made sure that you were treated the best, because you were the best, at least in his eyes. So what if you were just some magic-less human, you were his magic-less human, and that's all that mattered.

Malleus spends the beginning wallowing in his own pity, too depressed to leave his bed. He's afraid to face you, party because he doesn't know what he'd do when he'd finally see you again. He spends his time being comforted by Lilia, who tries to convince him that you leaving is impossible, which Malleus never believes.

Finally, when the skies clear and people can finally go outside again, do they see Mallues walking the Halls of Night Raven. He's composed, standing tall and regal. When he arrives at your dorm, seeing you for the first time in days, he doesn't belittle you or loose control. Instead, he offers you a smile, before taking your hand as you fall into a deep slumber.

There, he erases any silly little thought about leaving. You'd awake like nothing happened, smiling and happy, ready to see the friends that cared so much about you. You'll never know about the mirror missing from your room, or the chaos you caused because of an offhanded comment made at lunch. All you'll know is you had a silly little dream that felt way, way too real.

---

A/n: I hoped you enjoyed, sorry for taking so long.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

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