#i wrote this instead of eating dinner

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

[thegeminisage]

my mom brought [snack food] into the home. i, a newly-sober dopamine deficient woman with the addict gene on both sides, could not stop eating [snack food]. it was like the opposite of executive dysfunction. i begged myself NOT to do the thing while actively in the process of doing it. last night she went back to the store. i told her, please do not buy anymore [snack food]. but i had awakened her craving. now we have more of [snack food] and she's STILL not going to get any because i've already almost demolished the entire fucking box

#personal #this is like a COMPULSION this is the worst thing that's EVER HAPPENED TO ME #look i have adhd i have wrestled with impulsive snacking all my life but this is on another level #she needs to hide this shit at my aunt's house and eat it over there #i had some as soon as i woke up and when it was finished i had some more and i was like ok thats all until tonight after dinner #and as soon as i finished it i almost got up to get MORE and then instead i wrote this post #can one of you please come kill me.

[veliseraptor]

@mayedays replied to your post “Sometimes I get immensely sad that you're not in...”:

What do you see as the other options? Bc the alternatives to defanging or death that I can see are (1) the author subjecting the antagonist to serious suffering/punishment (up to and including 'fate worse than death') to appease readers' sense of justice or (2) the fandom becoming so much more toxic towards the character (and their fans) bc of rage that justice (read: punishment) "wasn't served". (And I hate those options too! This feels like a no-win situation!)

​I feel like you are talking about something a little different than I am, first of all, in that you seem to be talking about the canon fate of characters in-universe whereas I was specifically (in this post) talking about the way characters get written in fandom. But since I'm here and this does feel relevant to my interests, I'll take it!

Firstly, I don't think that avoiding a storytelling choice because "readers/fans will react poorly" is...a good way to do writing. An understandable way in this day and age, certainly! But I also think it's generative of...well, you know how people talk about the phenomenon of media being bleached of its color for the sake of not offending potential advertisers? That's what I see happening as a result of this kind of implied emotional terrorism, or fear of emotional terrorism on the part of writers.

Like I said, I think it's understandable to be scared of how people are going to react to something you write, whether that is for your own sake or the sake of a hypothetical reader - it's human to want to avoid unpleasant experiences. But I think caving to that fear, or accepting that as a stifling force on the creative decisions a writer feels at liberty to make, is neither desirable nor inevitable.

Secondly - it is relevant that I was talking about fandom here, because in a canon setting the antagonist is probably going, in some form, to have to lose. But if I'm engaging with this purely on the personal level of "how do I like to see writers handle their antagonists," there is a wide variety of ways for a narrative to treat its antagonists with grace. Even if an antagonist dies horribly, that doesn't necessarily mean that it's a narrative decision that I by nature have a problem with. (I have discussed before the internal conflict for me between 'but I want this character to live :(' vs. 'it makes for a better narrative if they die', including with several of my own original projects.) But the way that defeat or death is handled can make a world of difference in my (personal) response to a text.

I have read books where it feels like the aim of the text is specifically punitive: it wants to punish the bad character, it wants to make them suffer, it wants to illustrate that they deserve it. I tend to not enjoy that. It's not the only way to write an antagonist's defeat, and not even the only way to write an antagonist's death. It feels miles better to me, as someone who tends to get invested in antagonists, to read a text that doesn't come with a punitive mindset baked in. (Punitive texts aren't inherently bad, they just tend to not be for me.)

But that isn't the only way to write a conclusion, and there are ways of hurting or even killing an antagonist that don't have to feel like the goal of the narrative is specifically to punish them. (I wrote a whole essay about an example of this! There were footnotes and everything.)

But I think the bigger thing here, that is perhaps just a distinction between the way I approach this question and the way you seem to be, is that the question you're asking is predicated on the understanding that the question of "how a text handles its villain" is a matter of how readers/fans will react to a text, and that is a major determining factor in how a story should be told. I just fundamentally disagree with that, and I think a story that is written under those premises is going to suffer.

#mayedays #lise has opinions #christ that got long #i need to eat dinner #i wrote this instead of doing havdalah whoops #actual english major lise #does this make sense? i hope so

[valla]

makes me SICK ooouuugghhhhrhrhgfgghfhhf

#it still HAUNTS me to this day like #who in intsys is insane enough to think abt edel/thea in this way bc girl... there's no way whoever wrote this in doesn't ship e/d #like they've known each other here for 2 yrs tops?? and THIS is what edie says to thea?!??!* #girl dINNER!!1! #“I'll drag you back to the empire myself.” is such a DELICIOUS line. i will never get over it. #the fact that edie isn't even taking this as betrayal and instead only wanting thea BACK? girl. idk what else to say! #i like how thea still called her “edie” in such a serious setting... UGH it fawking hits harder... sobbing... #i'm eating at the palm of whoever wrote this in 🧎‍♀️ #shut up val

[lady-harrowhark]

every weekend i swear i'm gonna get my life back on track and every weekend i do not

#i did meal prep though! #but then i didn't want to eat real food for dinner so i had cookies and an ensure shake instead :/ #and i wrote a reflection paper in approximately 17 minutes and turned it in a whole 60 seconds before the deadline #i have so much work i need to do tomorrow morning though UGH

[willowfey]

ignore this i just wanna ramble in the tags for a sec i’ll probably delete it in a bit 🤪

#did an escape room with the fam on my sister’s birthday two days ago and my brother made me feel stupid the entire time #wouldn’t listen to me wouldn’t share or let me help and then act like i wasn’t helping (??? let me then) #and because he’s Loud my whole family was following his lead and ignoring me #but in the end i was the reason we won bc i was the only one who immediately understood the word riddles AND the one who wrote down #all the numbers he said we wouldn’t need. i was the only one who could connect the past information with the current problem #the only one who listened fully to the cd and decided to write down the locations without it being relevant yet #the only one who thought the tiny details might be relevant and the only one who automatically fixed his mistakes bc i noticed a pattern #and in the end still got no credit for anything (except from my mom) even tho if they had listened to me from the beginning they would’ve #been less stressed and finished sooner #then at the restaurant he didn’t listen to me again and we ordered too much even tho i told him we wouldn’t need it #THEN after dinner my grandma started texting me all frustrated telling me i need to keep my aunt updated on what’s happening thru the day #so she doesn’t feel left out. bc she’s having a rough time lately. bc it’s my job to make everyone feel better #FIRST of all this woman ignored me for years when her ex husband decided i wasn’t worth it #and now suddenly it’s my job to keep u informed on my every move so u don’t feel left out?? text me urself. ask what i’m doing. #ask HOW i’m doing??? do u even care beyond a ‘what colour is your sturdiness today namaste’ #every time my aunt complains about the tiniest thing and starts crying about it it my grandma blames everyone else #no one even knows or cares if i’m having a rough time #she came to ‘help’ when my mom was sick and i did everything for her instead. and then she threw a fit when i wouldn’t eat her salad #when i was too exhausted from staying up all night with my mother to go on a run with her the next day #my mom finally got mad at her for implying i’m lazy all the time and told her i’m ‘neurodiverse’ and do things my own way and she didn’t #even know what that meant so my mom was like ‘on the spectrum ‘ and my aunt just got mad that she had never told her #would it have made a difference at all? would u have expected different from me? #meanwhile i’ve done so much for my cousin… including taking care of luca the entire time she stayed with us. i had him all the time #i didn’t mind. i love that kid more than anything. but everyone expects everything from me like it’s just a given #i talked her through every problem every breakdown walked on eggshells to keep her happy and then what does she do when she leaves? #ignores me. doesn’t come back when she said she would. complains that i don’t include her in things #bc sometimes i have quiet conversations with my sister so i don’t bother everyone #and then gg wants to know why i won’t come see her? why i won’t drop everything to fly there? my aunt wants to know why i don’t call? #because despite loving me u have made me feel inadequate my whole life. some of u more than others #and i’m tired. and it’s time for me to Be me For me without justifying it to everyone else.

[soaheadofthecurve]

someone tell me to read my book and turn off my laptop please. also tell me 2 brush my teeth and plug in my phone instead of wallowing in a pit of despair

#like i dont like wallowing i actually feel like shit #i'm coping the best i can #like i cleaned my room up and made it liveable and got a plate of the dinner my dad made instead of eating a bag of cheetos and nothing else #and i wrote about my little feelings instead of just letting them kill from the inside out llike rat poison or something <3 #but now comes the process of preparing my body for sleep and i am stuck at my desk just wallowing

[readingwriter92]

Idk what has happened to me guys but man am I really back on bridgewater brain rot

I cannot wait until season 2

#will be dying until January of next year bc ahhhhhhhhhh #guys idk what it is I just. like. it’s so good #and I just love everyone in it #and I’ve got a new fic idea #and like. ahhhhhh #I need more bridgewater fic #last I checked the newest fic on ao3 was mine from February and guys we should do something about that #y’all can write so much better than my exhaustion fic I wrote in thirty mins instead of eating the dinner in front of me #like. I wrote that in thirty mins and then left it for like. five months #pls yall I need more content

[humansofnewyork]

“Like, porn star level sex. Ever since I was a teenager. I worked as an exotic dancer for a long time. I used to have long, red hair. I’ve been on the cover of romance novels. And I’ve also been gifted with great hands. I once wrote a book called The Extension of The Female Orgasm; I lost it in an old computer. But needless to say, I can make things happen with the human body. I’m kinda lucky downstairs, and I’ve done the work. There’s pumps and stuff that can make your ding-ding thicker and longer. But mainly I’ve been gifted with the willingness to listen. When women give you guidance, and you’re willing to listen, there’s no limit to what you can do.  I once provided thousands of orgasms over a five-year period, without ejaculating a single time. It’s called Mantak Chia’s Microcosmic Orbital Energy Raising. It’s a Daoist lovemaking technique where you don’t release your seed. You pull all your vital energies back into you, and spiral your electric body, to create a really powerful connection. Too powerful, honestly. It needs to be disclosed. Because most people don’t even realize you can take sex way deeper into an abyss of orgasmic pleasure. It’s intergalactic if you do it properly. But there’s a dark side. One time I went to somebody’s house that I hadn’t seen for two years. We were just having dinner. But then I go to the bathroom, and I open the vanity mirror, which I know I shouldn’t do, but I did, and there’s an altar to me. With all these pictures and different candles. I had to learn that I was hurting people emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. Because they’re probably never going to reach that level with someone else. Imagine having the perfect steak at your favorite restaurant, then eating nothing but dirty sock soup for the rest of your life. I never wanted to hurt people. I love people. I’m trying to be a better person. And part of being a better person is to put the other person’s feelings first. So now I tell people right from the start, the complete honest truth. You’re an amazing person. And enchantingly beautiful. But I’d rather just be friends, instead of having amazing sex that is probably going to make you hate me.”

[viennakarma]

Drunk calls

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)

Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.

Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.

“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”

“Y/N?” A male voice asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.

“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.

Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.

You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.

Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.

“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”

And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.

“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.

“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.

“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”

“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.

“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.

“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”

“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”

“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.

Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.

After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.

He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.

“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.

“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.

“Because the heels are killing me.”

Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.

“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.

“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”

“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”

“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.

Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive. 

“Damn, you’re handsome!”

It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.

As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.

When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.

“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”

“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.

“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”

Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.

“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”

You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.

“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.

“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.

“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.

“What do you mean?” He looked confused.

“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.

“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.

You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.

“I like your eyebrows.”

“Gracias.”

“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.

“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.

Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.

“You can’t undress me!”

He turned around, laughing.

“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”

You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.

When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.

“Are you sobering up?” He asked.

And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.

“Yup.”

“Then you remember who I am?” 

“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.

“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”

Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.

You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.

“God, I’m never drinking again!”

“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.

You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.

“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso

[softlyspector]

Grays

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

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~4k

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

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

“Are you almost done with that?” 

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

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

“What?” He snaps. 

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

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

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

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

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

Grunt, lift, swing, slice. 

No answer. 

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

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

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

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him.

Typical Joel.

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

“That so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That so?” 

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

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

He huffs at you and sits, only mildly annoyed.

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

“I ain’t crabby,” he gripes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In a minute,” you echo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s all right—”

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

He holds up his hands. “Yes ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like being close to you.” 

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

“Cranky.” 

“Thought it was crabby?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does like it, craves it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it?” 

“Yeah.” Another tug. “I love it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[b2cute]

What’s your problem?

rough dom!matt x fem!reader

notes: this is my first smut so please lmk your thoughts!! send any requests ☁️

warnings: obv smut, degrading, pet names, fem receiving, p in v, cover it before you smother it,chocking, slapping, arguing, angst to smut to fluff, i think that’s all

enjoy 😊

word count: 2,460

*y/n’s pov*

*beep beep beep*

the loud sound coming from beside me causes me to jolt up and widen my eyes. i check the time.

3:46 a.m.

i stormed back into matt’s room after an argument we had. nick and i went out for dinner at boa and i came home to a cranky boyfriend that decided to his take anger out on me. instead of fixing the issue, we both agreed to ignore eachother for the rest of the night.

i go on my phone for about 20 minutes before my stomach growled at me. i decided to head over to the kitchen and fix up some cereal.

“look who decided to show their face to world! everyone welcome y/n to earth” matt snarks sitting at the dining table, paralleling the kitchen. i roll my eyes at the comment he made considering chris and nick went to sleepover at madi’s house leaving the house to just us.

“don’t be a brat just because you exhausted yourself in my bedroom.”

again. what is up with these rude comments?

“seriously matthew, can you act normal for 5 fucking seconds? you turned twenty months ago, act like it and quit being immature” i snap. my stomach gurgling louder as i pour cinnamon toast crunch in a bowl. i reach for the milk in the refrigerator and pour it into the bowl as i join matt across the dining room chair he’s sitting in.

silence

i bring my knees up to my chest as i eat the cereal looking up at the light flashing from my hand as i scroll endlessly on my phone. matt continues journaling and i can’t help but notice his veins appearing through his arm as he wrote quickly. his black tank top and gray sweats don’t help my imaginations, but i quickly snap out of them considering he’s being an asshole.

“hmm, so you have an attitude and staring a problem y/n?”

that’s was my final straw. i quickly slam the now empty cereal bowl into the sink and practically sprint upstairs to nicks bedroom and slam the door. i wasn’t going to spend another second with him until he sorted himself out.

i crawled into nicks silk sheets and bring the blanket up to my chest. i stayed in the bedroom with my back turned from the door. i wasn’t crying. i was frustrated. but that’s the thing with matt. he never admits he’s wrong.

*matts pov*

*slam*

she was being such a brat and i don’t even know why. it was like y/n wanted to get me worked up. i had already gotten into a shitty argument with laura and the managing team about the “lack of effort” i put into videos and her attitude made the situation way worse. i gave her a bit of time before i start to head upstairs. i knock on the door, no answer.

i slowly open the door to see y/n on her phone with her airpods in. she glances at me with an expression i cannot read.

did i seriously mess up that bad? i couldn’t have.

“cmon y/n let’s go to my room and sort this out.”

she takes her airpods out and returns them to the case. “okay.” i walk over to the side of the bed and take her forearm as i guide her downstairs, her following my steps. as i open the door to the room she enters, closing the door behind her and locking it.

*y/n’s pov*

we sit on matt’s bed, facing eachother. i could see his angry expression through his face, but he was trying to hide it.

“look y/n i don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to sort it out, okay? i’ve had a bad day already and your nitpicking isn’t making it any better.”

he’s got to be serious.

“my nitpicking?!” i say raising my voice. “from the second i walked into the door you have shown me nothing but disrespect. you’re being ignorant and selfish matt” my eyes burning from the emotions.

“im not the one who locked themselves in my room to avoid the situation now did i, y/n. now you’re going to get rid of that fucking attitude and quit raising your voice or el-“

“or else what?” i snap, raising my voice even higher.

matt lets out a sigh, almost like an “i told you so” breath. “you asked for it.”

before i could process what he meant, his tattooed covered arm reached to my throat and neck, giving it a squeeze. “you want to act like a fucking slut, then you’re going to take me like a fucking slut.” he growls pinning me to the headboard. his eyes were coated black with a small ring of blue. the hunger on his face growing by the second.

*slap*

“answer me slut, how are you going to take it?”

i was so shocked i didn’t know what to say, but i had to admit, i kinda liked it.

another slap.

“like a slut” i whimpered from the stinging on my left cheek.

“good, you’re going to listen to everything i say and don’t even think about cumming with asking me.”

i nod vigorously.

before i can speak, matt’s lip attach to mine quickly. his tounge explores my mouth as he quickly dominates me. he bites on my bottom lip as he slowly moves to my cheek. then my jaw.

soft moans are leaving my mouth as i tug on his brown locks. “fuck matt just like that” i say squeezing my eyes shut. “yea? you like it when i mark you whore?”

i nod quickly. “use your words or i’ll stop” matt growls between kissing my neck. “yes matt i love it”

i was a moaning mess. matt continued to suck, bite, and lick my neck. he left marks that were going to stay for weeks, maybe even longer.

matt quickly disregards his top and not long after comes to rip mine off. “hm, no bra tonight?” matt smirks before taking my right tit to his mouth. he swirls his tounge around and lightly nibbles it while taking the left and pinching my nipple with his long fingers.

“nnngh it feels so good but i need more matt” i whine underneath him. he pauses his movements and look back at me. “such a needy slut y/n” he replies.

before i could say anything else, he pulls me towards him using while hooking his arms underneath my thighs. matt rips my wide legged sweats off leaving me in just my panties. his face was so close to my throbbing pussy that is could feel his warm breaths on my puffy clit.

“you’re soaked y/n” matt growls.

*slap*

his hand slapped my folds. i let out a pornographic moan from the impact. “who does this pussy belong to?” “you matt, all you”

he chuckled through the whimpers i let out and finally takes my panties off. wasting no time, matt comes in contact with my clit and sucks on it so harshly. his hands came up to my tits, pinching and kneading them.

“mm-matt oh MY GOD” i screech. if he kept this up i would orgasm in no time.

matt stops sucking and lets go of my tits only to use one hand to spread my folds out more and the other hand vigorously rubs my clit.

i started to scream. it felt so good. “MATT UMPH SO GOOD” the knot in my stomach begging to release. “please let me cum” i plead getting hungrier by the second.

“go ahead let it out angel” matt says. with that i quickly release all over the sheets, but this doesn’t stop matt from continuing. “too much matt, i can’t tak-“

“whether you like it or not, you’re going to take it slut. you want to keep arguing with me, this is what you get. shouldn’t have got me so worked up y/n” matt argues. i couldn’t say anything as my swollen clit was getting thrown everywhere.

he finally lets go and i quickly close my legs together. my legs were shaking and i had tears rolling down my cheek. suddenly, i feel matt’s arms separate my legs. “did i fucking say i was done?” i nod my head no, slowly but enough to answer his question. “answer my question y/n”

“n-no you did not” i plead, my eyes and face swollen from the tears due to the overstimulation i was receiving. “yea that’s what i thought”

matt sticks his middle and ring finger into my cunt and wastes no time pumping in and out of me. he lowers his head more as he returns to my clit, nibbling and kissing it. “mmph matt” my hands tug at his messy curls. his eye brows were brushed in every direction and his cheeks were painted with a light pink. he continues pumping into me as my back arches. i was on the verge of passing out due to his movements. i felt his fingers curl up and find my sweet spot.

matt continued to hit my g-spot and i felt the familiar knot return. “C-CLOSE” i whisper being worn out. “hold it.” matt snaps. the blue in his eyes completely disappeared. i couldn’t take it anymore, but i didn’t want it to stop.

matt continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy and rub harshly on my clit as i scream. not taking it anymore, i release all over his fingers.

“didn’t i tell you that you couldn’t cum yet?” matt mumbled. “ c-can’t hold any l-longer” i say as my body is worn out. i feel my body go limp as matt removes his fingers out of my pussy. he gets up and shifts so he’s sitting on the bed. i couldn’t open my eyes but i felt his move up again, this time lifting me up. he places me on his desk chair and throws my legs over each arm chair.

“since you can’t follow simple rules like a good girl, you’re going to take it one more time, and if you don’t hold it, well… i can go all fucking night.” matt snarks. i quickly shoot my eyes open in fear. the thought of going all night sounded intriguing, but i couldn’t even handle two orgasms.

i nod slowly at matt’s remarks and feel his swollen lips come in contact with my neck. his kisses were soft, but passionate. i moan softly at the sudden sensation and my hands reach for his hair one more time. matt begins to slide is gray sweatpants off along with his dark blue boxers. his dick is swollen and his tip was a harsh pink shade, leaking with precum.

with one quick touch, matt slips right into me, considering how wet i was. without letting me adjust matt begins to pound into me. one of his hands crept to my throat giving it a light squeeze while the other hand went to my clit once again rubbing and pinching harshly. “AH i’m t-too sensitive!” i scream my hand quickly trailing to matt’s wrist in attempt to move it away from my lower half. i quickly regret the action when matt’s hand squeezes my throat tighter.

“don’t even think about doing that again” matt says as he continues to push in and out of me. “s-sorry i just can’t take a-anymore” i cry. my face was red and the tears were everywhere. “yes you can. you will.” matt says. after a couple minutes of matt’s actions he lets out a groan. “fuck y/n, i’m close” matt says. both his hands come on either side of the desk chair as he pounds into me. the brown haired boys eyes were screwed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. “m-me too” i manage to say using every last bit of energy in me. “can i please cum matt?” i beg. i’ve been holding it since he began thrusting into me. “do you think you deserve it” matt mumbles. i nod my head quickly before he says “go ahead, cum you whore.”

without waiting any further, i release for the third time that night. matt rails me through my high before he finally reaches his climax. he releases long white strings into my as he removes his cock from inside of me.

finally catching my breath, i feel matt’s present leave the room before he comes back in.

*matts pov*

i return to the room with a towel and water for y/n. she was collapsed on the chair, her legs still spread as both our cums we’re seeping out of her. i walk over and clean her up gently. she winces at the touch and grabs my biceps for support. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. she mumbles something but it was almost inaudible. “speak up baby” i say as i begin to change the sheets. “can’t move” is all y/n can get out of her soft lips.

i quickly finish putting the new sheets on and throw the old ones in the wash. i walk over to my drawer and take out a pair of my boxers and a ransom t-shirt for y/n. picking her up gently, i place her on the bed and lift her legs up to skips the boxers on. i lift her back up and her head quickly fad on my chest and i attempt to put the t-shirt over her head. after i dress her up i walk over and change into a new pair of boxer and blue plaid pajama pants. i grab my hair brush and walk over to y/n.

“you’re hairs a mess baby let me brush it” i chuckle. y/n lets out a soft hum as i brush her beautiful hair . once im finished, i put the hairbrush on the nightstand and lift the covers as i pick y/n up and slips her underneath them. i plant a kiss on her forehead before walking onto the other side of the bed and getting in.

after a moment of silence y/n mumbles “does this mean your not mad at me anymore?” i let out a laugh before replying to her. “of course i’m not mad at you baby i couldn’t even if i tried.” with that, i grab y/n and she throws her legs and arms over me. her head was snuggled in the crook of my neck and i leaned my face at the top of her head as i plant a kiss there.

“my sweet girl, get some rest my love”

taglist: (comment here to be on it)

@mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @mangoposts @guccifrog @lovingmattysposts @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @n00dl3zzz

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fluff #sturniolo edit #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo imagine

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

INDECISION

SUMMARY: You feel really insecure these days after giving birth to your second daughter but for your sake Jungkook is there to tell you on how pretty you are.

PAIRINGS: established relationship Jungkook X Reader.

WORD COUNT:1.1K

WARNINGS: reader is insecure about her body, Koo coming to rescue her, Dad kook :(. Bam is there as always! Reader is called Jagi sometimes.

SMUT WARNIGS: Kissing, lactation kink, mentions of male masturbation, she gets a bit shy because she didn't shave down there, fingering,cream pie, missionary , after care, lmk if I missed anything .

A/n : small teeny Drabble for y’all , wrote this instead of studying for my exam 😬🧍🏻‍♀️ Tumblr works on reblog system please reblog !! Also a simple “it good or it’s great”can make my entire day 💞This is 400+ followers special enjoy ! ❤️

“Daddy please” Hani pleaded with her doe eyes looking at Jungkook he sighed “No baby I’m sorry”Hani started fussing when he said no “Look baby you already have many dolls?” He said softly picking her up from the ground. His 4-year-old daughter was stubborn just like her mom and wanted the doll “One more won’t hurt Daddy” she said pouting her lips.  

Sighing he gave in and went to buy that for her. Jungkook thought of buying some groceries from the nearby mall when Hani spotted a doll shop, she promised she would only look around but instead, she started fussing when Jungkook wouldn’t let her take one.  

Loading all the groceries into the back of the car Hani was already settled in her car seat “Let’s go home soon and meet Mommy and Chae ” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows and starting his car, soft music playing in the car.  

You had to freshen up once again for the second time today, Chae your younger daughter puked out the milk you fed her. She was now asleep in her bed. Bam and you decided to play a bit waiting for your husband and daughter to come, Jungkook texted you he was on the way. Getting up Bam and you went to the kitchen to prepare something while Chae was still asleep.  

You heard the front door unlocking Hani came running to the kitchen “Hi Mommy see I bought a new doll, where is Chae is she asleep again?” Hani bombarded you with questions never really staying to one point “Wow baby, yeah Chae is asleep go wake her yeah sweetie?” You said kissing her cheeks “Hey baby, got something for you” Jungkook handed you some of your favourite chocolates and some fresh white tulips he picked up while on his way back home.

Bam rushed towards both of them wiggling his tail and climbing up in Jungkook's arm . Kissing him you told him to change and get ready to eat dinner.  

Chae was now awake playing with Hani and Bam while Jungkook helped you place the dishes on your dining table. “Hani come here and have your dinner baby” you said placing her favourite plate and spoons. "Yes, Mommy coming " Hani said while standing up while Chae cooed and started crying when Hani came to the dining table, grabbing her from her crib you had your little one in arms. " I'll go and feed bam, start with your dinner Jagi" Jungkook said standing up from his seat. Dinner soon ended with laughs and giggling Hani told me about her new Kindergarten and her friends. 

Both of your daughters knocked up soon while watching some animated movies. Bam was already rested in his kennel, tucking them on the bed you went to change, to sleep soon.  

While changing you stood in front of the mirror and sighed , Jungkook hummed at the site of you sighing "Kook I don't feel confident and pretty about my body anymore " you said slightly embarrassed and tears beaming in your eyes. "What are you saying baby, you look perfect," Jungkook said keeping his phone on the nightstand.

It’s been 4 months since you both had sex, the last time you had sex was when you were eight months pregnant. you've heard Jungkook jerking off in the shower once in a while. "Baby you look so fucking perfect, what makes you think you're not pretty?" he said sitting in front of you and grabbing your shoulders " I don't know kook I have stretch marks all over my stomach and thighs, I have baby fat still in my body," you said tearing up. Jungkook sighed kissing your cheeks " Baby it's serious why didn't you tell me this earlier? " Jungkook was shocked about why you didn’t let him know.

" you've given birth to our child baby, and about stretch marks you should not feel you're not pretty anymore, and some baby fat looks cute on you, you have them in the right spots," Jungkook says now lying over your breasts, laughing through tears you wave him off. Jungkook then kisses your lips slowly which soon turns into a make out session. "You're fine with having sex with me tonight baby?" he asked making sure you were comfortable with it.

Nodding at him he helps you to undress when you get a bit shy under his gaze "Kook I haven’t been shaving down there lately” you say in a slow tone we wave off saying “It’s fine baby” and move down towards your stomach slowly leaving wet kisses on your stretch marks and fat, leaning he is met with the site of your wet pussy.  

Groaning at the site “fuck so wet baby, what got you so worked up?” Jungkook whispered before leaning in to give a soft kiss to your core. Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy the pleasure he gave. “Ah ah baby watch me” He tutted “Tell me what you want baby, gonna give you everything you deserve” he added “Want your mouth kook” you said grabbing his hair. “Take what you want to have it your way,” he says softly sucking on your soaked clit “You taste like a fucking candy” Jungkook praises you for being a good girl and how wet you were “fuck so tight baby” curses left your mouth when he fingered you through your orgasm. 

Bawling your eyes out you finally came on his fingers “You gonna take my cock baby?” Jungkook said still unsure “Yeah kook want you in me now,” you said reassuring him “Looks so good waiting for me, glad I knocked you up with my babies” he groaned .

“My sexy baby mama, never gonna make you feel bad about your insecurities they look fucking perfect” his thrusts were getting rough but you both were careful to not make a bit of noise, Jungkook's hand pressed against your mouth to keep you from your moaning getting louder. His hands massaged your breasts and a few bits of milk oozing out of them made his lactation kink awake, sucking on them he moans at the sweet taste.  

“Fuck Jagi I’m gonna fucking come” Arrays of curses left your mouth, and slopping noises of your wet pussy made him cum faster than he even though “fuck kook so messy” you chuckle feeling the slick drip down to your ass. Laughing he settles his head on your neck whispering sweet things in your ear and occasionally biting on them. He backs away and brings in a towel to clean you up.  

You both cuddle up against each other wearing some cloths because Hani has a habit of barging in your room at early morning. Jungkook went to check up on both of them kissing their cheeks and closing the door. The baby monitor helps you when Chae cries in middle of night thankfully she was asleep.  

Whispering I love You's Sleep soon overcome you both.  

Taglist : @kimmingyuswifee , @jungk97kwife , @olimpiiaa , @ellesalazar , @hopeonysus , @diorh0seokie , @yvonnexojeon , @diamondjeon , @kookswifesblog , @talyaaas-blog , @jk-hoe97 , @jeoninknown , @dna-black-and-blue

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts x you #jungkook #bts fanfic bts smut #bts ff #jk #bts jk #jk c #jk x you #jk x oc #jk x reader #jungkook X you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #jk smut #jeon jk #jungkook X y/n

[vampcastellan]

forever with him, luke castellan fanfic

summary: friends to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, apollo cabin main character <3

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warning(s) : lots of plot, some cringey fluff, cute kissing moments & use of y/n

dedications: my bestfriend honeymoomin. i hope you enjoy reading, i love you minnie !!

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note: hii first time poster here but i’m so in love with luke fics so i wrote my own :)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

everyone at camp half blood knows that the apollo kids are an embodiment of sunshine and happiness. no matter what happens, they always find a reason to make those around them smile and laugh. people gravitate towards the positive energy that being an apollo kid has, and you are no different. even the angsty and moody kids seem to enjoy your presence. luke castellan is the most popular example of this.

the horn echoes in the distance as you wake up, kids slowly pile out of your cabin and walk down to the dining pavilion. mixed foods are spread out for everyone to grab and enjoy. you grab a few small items, fruit, yogurt and an apple juice before heading toward your respective table. 

all cabins have their own tables, and all cabin mates must eat with their siblings. every meal, everyday, forever until they grow up and leave. luke castellan does not follow this rule. 

his brown curls are messy and falling into his eyes, it’s obvious he didn’t sleep much the night before. he walks to grab a plate of mixed fruits and walks towards your table. chiron tried to take away dessert privileges the first few times it happened but luke didn’t care, he still wanted to sit with you. eventually it was a habit for both cabins, luke ate every meal with you instead.

“rough night?” you ask, smiling as he slips onto the bench seat beside you.

“yeah, the twins wouldn’t shut up..” he trails off, slowly piling his plate of breakfast down into his mouth. luke was the head counselor for hermes cabin, which means he didn’t get to sleep until everyone else was taken care of. 

“wanna come to mine and help me study?” you chirp up and turn to look at him, his focus is fixed on the table in front of you both. the ares kids are fighting over who has to scrub toilets after losing the capture of the flag. clarisse la rue, their head counselor is repetitively smacking one of the trouble boys on the head until he stops yelling.

“uhh maybe later? i have training duty today for the new group that showed up last week” luke replied without even turning to look at you. he continued eating his fruit and even continued onto eating some of yours as well. 

“oh it’s okay, i can just study with someone else today” you smiled at him and brushed off how different the rejection felt today. 

“okay, come find me before dinner?” luke asked as he stood up from the bench and grabbed his remaining fruit left on the plate. 

“of course!” you cheerly replied and turned to look up at luke as he hovered over you. he quickly wrapped an arm around your chest and hugged you from behind, kissing your temple before walking off toward the fire pit. every demi-god child has to offer food scraps to their parent, as a form of admiration and love. therefore, the fire pit burns every minute of every day, basically for the rest of eternity as long as camp half-blood stands alive.

and let's just say the flames weren’t the only thing burning bright red anymore.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

you decided to study with annabeth in the athena cabin since luke ditched you for counselor duties. nobody can compete with the smarts of an athena kid, but you were pretty damn close. 

annabeth was incredibly talented in basically everything, but she liked to study architecture specifically. she could ramble about the history and purpose of buildings for days. you on the other hand preferred the easier topics, like high school english and ancient greek history. 

“are you going to tell me what happened at breakfast this morning or not?” annabeth dropped her pencil down and looked straight at you. the burn of her stare was starting to become undeniable to acknowledge. 

“what are you talking about?” you sigh and glance up at her, before returning back to the textbook sitting in front of you. 

“are you seriously this clueless? luke kissed you this morning in front of everyone. you have no feelings about that?” her dead serious look made you feel slightly disoriented. you wait for a few seconds before replying back to her.

“he kissed my forehead, beth. it's not like we made out in front of the entire camp. and why exactly does this matter anyway?” you glare at her confused, squinting your eyes slightly and tilting your head in a questioned manner.

“you really are clueless, aren't you?” she took a deep breath and collected her belongings. “luke has had a crush on you for years, y/n” annabeth beams at you and then your wrist. a thin beaded best friend bracelet sat by itself. luke had made it for you after you arrived at camp, that being almost 6 years ago. he wore his matching one everyday, refusing to take it off even in combat.

“i’ll see you at dinner!” she gives you a quick side hug and then leaves you alone in the cabin to gather your thoughts and feelings. 

and staying with your feelings is exactly what you did. the rest of the day you couldn’t focus on anything but the conversation with annabeth. did luke actually like you back? and if so, how did she know before you did? everything was becoming so complicated and confusing now.

clarisse stopped you on your way toward the training fields, she wanted your help fixing up and decorating a chariot for the camp’s racing event tomorrow. you, being an apollo kid, couldn't possibly deny her request. the two of you worked together for a couple hours, mixing scraps and parts into useful weapons. after she saw how distracted you were when you began painting small hearts along the doors sides, she took a pause. normally this could have passed without question for the aphrodite cabin, but ares? absolutely not. 

“alright, who has you in a love spell y/n? i appreciate the help you know, but drawing hearts on my chariot won't go well with me or any of my siblings.” she questioned you, removing the small hand held paint brush from your grasp. 

“hmm? sorry i’ve got alot on my mind” you quickly replied, giving a sympathetic smile as blush crept onto your cheeks. clarisse looked at you for a moment, sighed, and then walked back toward her side of the cart. she threw the brush back into the pile of others before continuing whatever progress she has at making some wheels spin faster.

“the horn will sound for dinner here soon, you can leave now. thank you for the help” she yelped from beyond the chariot, smacking around parts of steel.

you close your eyes for a moment and deeply exhale. like clockwork the loud conch shell announced that it was time for all demi-god children to meet in the dining pavilion. a sudden wave of worry had overcome your mind and body. 

luke always sits with you and the rest of the apollo cabin. there was no possible way to ignore his actions, or ask him to sit with his own cabin mates. making the friendship awkward wasnt what you wanted to do. this was undeniably going to happen right now, you just needed to act calm and chill like always!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

you slowly make your way out of the forest with clouded thoughts and a funny feeling in your stomach. you meet with annabeth again as you walk past the athena cabin doors. 

“hi y/n, have you seen luke yet?” she smirks at you and wiggles her eyebrows. you stop in your tracks and turn to dead pan her. 

“please tell me you were joking earlier.” you say with a serious face, thinking there’s no possible way that THE luke castellan could ever possibly like you back. 

“wait do you not like him too? i only told you because me and percy were tired of the constant flirting and neither of you were making moves.” she stops beside you and looks at you with a confused face. her happy and fun aura has since fallen after your recent question.

“that’s the issue beth, i’ve been in love with him forever! i never in a million years thought that he could ever feel the same until now. he’s so nonchalant and only ever talks about hooking up with one of the ares kids. i didn’t think he would want someone completely opposite of his personality…” you continue to ramble on, but annabeth’s focus slowly leaves and shifts to something behind you. a pale tone overtook her face about halfway through your speech

“are you even listening to me anymore??? i'm sorry, forget it, i’ll see you at the campfire.” you begin to turn around only to be faced with none other than luke castellan himself. there’s an awkward moment of silence before he speaks up

“you’re in love with me?” he questions, a slight blush is noticeable all over his face. his hands are tucked away into his pockets nervously.

“no no it’s not like- well yes but i can explain, can we talk? alone maybe?” you try to reason with him while hinting toward annabeth to give the two of you some privacy. she kindly understands and smiles at you before walking away and down toward the pavilion. 

“we can talk on the way to my cabin, most of the kids are already sitting down for dinner so it should be empty this time around.” he offers you a smile and extends his hand towards you. without skipping a beat you lace your fingers into his and prepare to walk toward the hermes structure. the silence between you is oddly peaceful, luke’s always been really good at making people feel safe even in the most uncomfortable situations. his hands are warm and soft, his thumb is gently rubbing along your fingers as he guides the way. 

“i assume annabeth told you” he glances down at you and then back up toward the graveled path. his grip on your hand is strong, almost as if he would die if he let go.

“uh yeah, she did..” your throat is suddenly very dry and you begin to feel that funny feeling in your stomach again. 

“i can almost feel the nerves radiating off you, take a breath y/n.” he chuckles as he pulls you toward the hermes cabin doors. gently releasing your hand to open it and gesture for you to enter first. you awkwardly walk inside and head toward the corner where his bed sits. you take a seat on the edge of his bed and glance around as if it's your first time in here. even though you’ve been friends with luke for half a decade, the new found feelings are making you feel like it's your first time hanging out together. he closes the door and walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. his thighs are practically touching you, his hand brushes against yours everytime he tries to move. the tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a butterknife. 

“so do you wanna explain what i overheard you telling annabeth..?” he offers you the chance to talk first, but he doesn't look away from your guys feet on the floor in front of you.

“how much exactly did you hear?” you question him, turning to look him in the eyes. 

“would you be alarmed if i said everything?” he peels his eyes off the floor and glances down at you. his lips are pursed into a small smirk and there's a red tint that lies on his cheeks.

“oh great” you awkwardly laugh and place your head into your heads. luke carefully wraps his hands around yours, pulling them away from your face. he makes sure not to let go of them, as he places both of your guys hands into his lap.

“i like you, y/n. i’ve always liked you, i was just waiting for you to realize it…” his eyes are soft when you look into them. you can see as his eyes dart between your own and down to your lips. the room is suddenly hot, and you feel a gravitational pull toward luke. he must feel it too because within seconds both of you are leaning in. one of his hands comes up to hold your jaw. he’s pulling you into him, and quickly you are inches away from his face. there's a quick pause in his movement before he speaks up. “are you sure you wanna do this?” the gentle look in his gaze is the same he’s always given you. this whole time he was admiring you from afar, and you had no idea until this very moment.

a radiant smile overcomes your face, you nod your head and lean into him. luke’s other hand reaches up to hold the other side of your face. 

his lips finally meet yours, and the feeling can only be described as euphoric. you’ve dreamt of this happening for years and years, but nothing could compare to the real thing. his movements are gentle, guiding you through the moment. his lips are warm and welcoming. his hands move toward the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side and deepening the kiss. 

moments pass before you finally pull back, making an attempt at catching your breath. luke, refusing to let you go, happily places small kisses over your lips and cheeks. you throw your head backwards and giggle as luke wraps his arms around you. 

“i suppose this means you definitely like me too, right?” one of his hands is gently playing with the hair that frames your face, as the other is rubbing your back. “you’d be stupid to think otherwise, luke castellan.” you respond and smile, leaning into his soft touch. he takes this moment to kiss you once more before pulling you into his chest. the two of you sit there for a few moments, enjoying the moment. 

“we should probably go to dinner before chiron sends someone looking for us” he speaks and leans up. you follow his movements and nod your head slightly. luke stands to his feet and gives you his hand, pulling you to your own feet as well. he places one more kiss on your lips before guiding the both of you toward the cabin door. 

as usual he joins you and your siblings, the apollo cabin, for dinner. this night, he sits closer to you, holding your hand under the table and drawing small circles around your fingers. every now and again, you share a look and smile before returning to the conversion happening at the table. everything feels right, and you can't wait to spend forever with him.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #charlie bushnell x reader #vampcastellanwrites

[delugguk]

Only Mine, Nobody Else's.

pair: jungkook x reader.

genre: stablished relationship, smut, fluff.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: unprotected sex.

summary: there's you, who finds little things like eating perilla leafs as normal. then there's him,who finds such topics as horrendous. for him, this type of convos shouldn't even exist. so who'll win this battle? it's better to find out, now.

a/n: hellooooo here's the alternative version of THIS. finally!! I wrote this the same day I published the first drabble but never got to finish it until now, so I hope you enjoy this hehe. I really love them ㅠㅠ but I'll shut up now and enjoy their cute dynamics 😩 I'm sorry I took toooooo long to post but my irl schedule is kinda ass :( LET ME KNOW YALL REACTIONS!! I do appreciate it 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

everything can happen during dinner but.. let me explain, okay?

when you start a topic.. normally, your smart and super interesting boyfriend rambles around until he can't stop his pretty mouth from moving - not that you complained though, you adore listening to him.

but as interesting as it could be, there was some nights were each topic jumped from fun conversations to.. sudden serious ones.

like tonight.

A new trend has seemed to flow around socials making everyone have these interesting conversations that.. you're not really sure if you vibe with them to be honest - but it is what it is as soon as seho, jungkook's best friend, brings this topic to the table.

and yep, you wanted to chop his balls right in that moment.

you could swear you were having a good time until that moment came. you and jungkook were oblivious to the matter for some reason so when you're having dinner with your friends, this sudden theme really got you out off guard because you just knew how jungkook was gonna get.

"so what is it about?" jungkook asked and now that you think about it, you wished he could just.. not pay attention but.. oh well.

"well, it's basically a question about.. you letting somebody else help your girlfriend separate her perilla leaf-"

"hell nah." jungkook cuts him out of his sentence.

damn.

"wait.." seho's chuckles, "you didn't even let me finish and you're already prohibiting that from happening." finding the situation funny.

you only ironically rolled your eyes with an ironic smile too.

"you make questions knowing well the way he is.." you say but it wasn't annoying.

"what's love if there's not a little spice to it?" he laughs. oh you hated him.

not really. but you know what I mean.

jungkook's just listening until he began to speak with a cocky grin. "do you really think I'll let y/n get feed by another man?" a small scoff of a laugh leaving his mouth, "yeah sure." as he brushes his hair back with both hands.

just laying back on his sofa, casually looking so fine. but this wasn't the time to think about that.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a man, you know? It's just any other friend." says yoongi.

"whatever, I don't care. I wont allow it."

you chuckle. "mm.. why not?" sounding more curious, but you really wanted to know why he is so against it. "I don't see nothing wrong about sharing food?"

"not this way??"

"exactly?" seho's following just after jungkook.

"you, shut up." you point at seho. - now looking back at jungkook, "what do you mean 'this way'?"

"mm.. babe, this isn't just something you can share, you know?"

"but.. why not?"

both him and seho sigh. but just before they could talk, luckily, the theme dies as soon as yoongi successfully changes the topic to some stupid funny video he saw these days.

the fact that seho knows about jungkook's possessive/jealous behaviours makes this worst. they're like best friends, for god's sake.

after that little moment, not even a single wrinkle of happiness painted on your boyfriend's face but a slight eyebrow furrowing instead and it's just that his reaction to the matter was... priceless.

jungkook had so much to say but so little to think.. completely blinded by the thought of someone feeding his girl, this obviously wasn't going to end here.

..and you both knew it.

when you arrive to your apartment, jungkook didn't wasted any time to continue your conversation and it's just that.. he was so predictable sometimes, or maybe you knew him too well.

"what did you meant about that?" his voice sounds genuinely curious when he closes the door behind you.

"about.. what?" taking off your jacket as you respond, he smacks his lips in annoyance.

"you know what I'm talking aboutㅡ bam, hi" voice suddenly changing into a whisper-y cute tone when he kneels down to kiss his son.

"..hm?" and as he gets up, he takes your hand leading into the living room.

he seats first. tattooed hand giving little soft but strong palms at the other side of the sofa when he motions you to seat beside him.

when you cross your legs, you give yourself just the perfect enough space between him and you just so you don’t get any other contact with his dangerous body 'cause right now this wasn't your sweet, sweet boyfriend at his best. - not that he’ll do something bad to you, but because you were very weak when it came to having him close..

"are we.. really having this conversation?”

blinking many times as if it wasn't obvious, "uh.. yeah??" he answers.

you sigh. "okay." pausing, "shoot."

"do you really not care?"

"about what? food?"

he glances at you.

you exhale. "It's not that I don't care. It's more of me.. thinking it's not that serious."

his mouth drops into a little gasp. "how isn't it that serious? my friend could easily be feeding you.. you."

"so?"

"so???" he feels so offended. "are you really-"

"no, okay, wait. I do care about that. I dont agree about them feeding me. I don't like that either.. what the hell." you confirm because you realize. "what I'm trying to say is, they won't be feeding me."

"how?"

"because they will just help me separate the leafs, silly. they don't necessarily have to give them in my mouth?"

"but most people do. unconsciously."

"you do?"

"yes. and I think you can tell. I always do it with you."

"but that's because we're dating.."

"it's because I like you. romantically, silly." he flicks your head, making you blink.

"of course, so that makes sense!" you say. "I don't think a random friend will-- wait, friends can also do it if they like you.. as a friend?"

"uh-uh” he nods his head. “that doesn't exist when it comes to this food."

"what's so different about this?"

"you really don't know, huh?"

nodding your head, you shrink your shoulders as you keep silent for a few seconds and he crosses both his arms looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“what?” you playfully exclaimed as you’re also confused but jungkook just pushes his hair back once again, taking a big breather followed with an exhale. “babe," you continue, hands cupping his face. “tell me.” as your face gets closer, eyes trying to read his.

"they could touch your lips with the tip of his fingers." he says. big pupils staring at your lips when he’s soon piercing your gaze.

you do notice. butterflies in your stomach, god.

“no, they won't."

"yes they will and I can't let that happen."

you sigh. "babe, is not that big of a deal. you act as if that will make me fall in love with them.” then you pause to say, "which, it would never happen, by the way."

"but you could."

"no, I won't." you affirm.

"yes? you would." but he keeps being stubborn..

"no? I wouldn't?"

you both pause staring at each other and you roll your eyes.

"I still stand with what I said during dinner though." leaning back on his seat, you’re not longer cupping his face.

"honey, me helping your friend or my friend isn't going to change anything."

"you never know.."

"I think you should stop watching too many dramas. their messing with your little head." you playfully say while softly pulling one of his hair strings.

but he rolls his eyes. "how can you say that?" starting his funny drama. "those things definitely doesn't affect the way I think.." he pauses. "but If that was the case, then they'll be totally right because If it happens in dramas it could happen in real life."

"You're delusional.."

"No I'm not?"

"..and you want me to take you seriously?”

“babe.” jungkook warns, voice sharp.

“okay, okay..” you side smile. “I get it.”

“can you listen to me?”

"always."

"you can't.. you can't still do it for him or anybody that isn't me." he’s serious but his voice is so endearing..

taking a deep breath, you rest one hand against your cheek when you look directly into his eyes. "why though?"

"because I say so."

"mm… that still don’t help."

"yeah, it does."

"you can't just give me that answer as your reason why?"

"just did."

you lightly punch his shoulder. "jungkook!"

he laughs.

“you’re being childish right now.” you fake cry.

"okay, okay.." breathing, he goes back to being serious. "either way you still can't help."

rolling your eyes for the 281 time, you annoyingly respond with, "are you going to keep saying that?" pausing. "like is this about you thinking that's how I'll end up falling in love with somebody else? or… what?”

"mm.. yeah?" he's sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious?"

"how is it obvious?" you frown your eyebrows.

"because he'll give you one perilla leaf and you know how.. when somebody can't separate them, sometimes there's have to be another person to help, right?" he breathes as you nod. "well.. that person is, of course, you!" he argues, "and that could make you end up holding hands with him!”

"I- what?" he's unbelievable.

“as soon as I blink!" he continues - pointing at his eyes. "he has already taking you away from me!"

your reaction is.. well, you don’t even know how to react as he says all of this. only thing that could leave your mouth was, "jungkook.. you can't be serious now.."

"well I am?" he’s all pouty and annoying but you needed to make him understand your point of view and that’s all you think when his hands are lightly hitting his own thighs in frustration.

"well, that's ridiculous." now you’re the one leaning back into your side of the sofa.

"It is not?!"

"It is, and it doesn't even makes sense. I won't hold somebody's hand just because they helped me?" you blink several times as something that’s so obvious.

"but- how can you say that? this does makes sense and it can totally happen!"

then pausing, you decide to tease him instead even though you’re still serious. “are you, perhaps.. talking by experience? ..and that's why you're saying this to me?"

"no!” hands brushing his own face in frustration. "that's not why I'm saying this."

"then why you get so mad about it? It doesn't make sense to me. explain how it works because I do not understand and believe me when I say I'm having a hard time trying to." giving up, you give him a good opportunity to make you understand his point of view in full detail but that’s only if he want it though. you weren’t going to force him to do anything.

he was clear of it.

as soon as you said that, jungkook takes a short time of silence to think. rubbing his chin, rubbing his face.. you can clearly see he's really making up his mind for the way he keeps zooming out into his complex mind.

that could be pretty sometimes.

"let’s say.." he quickly nibbles his lip ring as his dimples slightly pronounce more and that's when you confirm for the second time that he wants to make this right. "..you have a friend, a girl friend.” you nod as he speaks. “and she needs help to separate all of her perilla leafs.."

"Aha.." you slowly nod your head.

"would you like it if I help? It'll take a lot of time.." his eyes feel so heavy looking at yours like he really wants you to say what he think is the right answer..

"..yes?"

but your answer is still very.. unbothered and that makes jungkook open his mouth with both hands on his head in a dramatic manner.

"yes???" he’s back to being exalted. “that’s really your answer?” he chuckles but it’s not even a friendly one. more of a sarcastic one.

“I mean.. what do you want me to say?! I just think it’s normal?”

“n-normal?” and there’s that sarcastic grin all over again. “why.”

"because.. it's just food?"

he covers his face in disbelief. "but I'm the one giving it to them.." he pauses. "Isn't it like if I was deeply caring for them? that's why it's wrong! It can look bad."

"not for me.." you look around.

he sighs for the 10th time smacking his lips as he reveals, "babe, you can't help others with perilla leafs because it'll look like you have second intentions with them."

"who said that?" now you're the one rolling your eyes.

jungkook sighs, rubbing his eyes. "it’s something to flirt about.”

“flirt?”

“yeah." he leans his body a little closer to yours, staring at your eyes almost intensely. you felt tension. not a bad one necessarily.

"have you done that?" genuine question.

"no!" he whines with the same pout on his lips. "why do you keep asking me this?”

“genuinely curious.. and you’re saying a lot of things.” you say.

he rolls his eyes. “I know a lot of people that do it..”

“how?”

"well.." he takes one of your hands to caress it while he speaks, "you know how hard they are to separate, right?"

"yeah..?"

"you normally will have to lean closer to that person in order to do so." he pauses. eyes piercing at yours when his voice goes two tones down. "people like closeness."

you nervously clear your throat. "ah.. yeah," immediately changing the direction this was taking— "so.. imagine we're eating on a cute restaurant-“ you fix your posture and jungkook only grins to himself. he has made you feel nervous.

he liked that.

“…with a friend, it doesn't matter if it's a woman or man” he nods, paying attention to your words. “and I can't help like you said.."

“aha..?”

“if I’m minding my business in that situation but my friend needs help, does that mean you’ll be the one helping them?”

"of course not." tone? annoyed and very serious.

"why not?"

"because I don't care if it's a woman or man, I shouldn't be helping anybody that isn't you. MY girlfriend."

that kinda made your stomach flip, let's not lie here.

"but then who'll help them eat?"

"nobody."

"jungkook!" you call him out.

but all he does is shrink his broad shoulders. “what? It's easy! nobody helps them! don't they have arms of their own?" he annoyingly responds.

"but that's so ass. it's not like you're giving them food directly into their mouth?!"

"..and? I still don't care! If I say you shouldn't then you shouldn't."

you raise your eyebrows. “okay boss?”

jungkook exhales, “I'm not saying that. but.. it’s just what's obvious? I can't help either and we're dating."

"..and you're possesive."

"I'm not possessive.

"yes, you are."

"okay, maybe a little but I'm not most of the time."

and that makes you laugh for sure. “see how you shamelessly lie to yourself, gosh.”

now he’s the one raising his eyebrows. “lie? do you want to know what’s a real lie?” he questions.

“yes.” you sarcastically smile.

“the fact that I don’t want to fuck for your stupid answers and the way that I hate how my solution to this has to be to fuck you silly.” then he whispers to himself, “fuck.” really wanting that to happen.

you were frozen, didn’t expected him to say all that. he’s surely crazy too because why did he had to say it while having that nasty smile on his face? why.

“then why don’t you act on it?” you tease back.

“because that’s a “lie”. he smirks, “told you I’ll say a real lie.”

“I hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” he smiles but then, goes back to the main theme. “listen to me, doing that.. I just think it’s thoughtful. like you’re clearly showing you deeply care for that person, you know?” then he pouts, “from my point of view.. we should be the only ones helping each other.. nobody else.”

you sigh. “okay.. I see what you mean. but I still think it depends on how you perceive it though.”

“fine, now you’re the one who needs to explain.” he said that with a slightly annoyed tone that made you chuckle.

“I think you keep seeing it as something romantic and that’s why you can’t accept it.”

“..and you think it’s not?”

“if I considered that to be romantic you think I’ll be reacting this way?”

“…no..”

“there’s your answer.” you smile.

"just.." he exhales. "take care of me and me only, yeah?" plastering his forehead against yours, his palms holds your cheeks ever so delicately when he says, "I will not feel comfortable if you take care of others in that manner when you have me. specially me. your boyfriend." voice so soft while pointing at himself and god, does he was really cute sometimes. "…would you like it if I took care of your friends?"

and at that question you take your time to think.

"I think it depends on the person too, jungkook.."

"why?" he responds as he is genuily curious.

"because.. Imagine if the friend we’re eating with needs help with their perilla but let’s say I’ve eaten that many times with them and everything was always fine,” jungkook nods his head as he carefully listens. “..so in this case, since they’re my friend I know them the most right?”

"yeah."

“but they’re asking for help, your help, when I know they could handle themselves just right..”

“I see where this is going..” there’s a little building smile on jungkooks lips.

“me seeing them acting dumb just so you could help them— of course that’ll make me definitely jealous.”

"you see?!" he suddenly raises his voice in excitement. "that's what I'm saying!" smiling brightly at you.

"but I'll be more mad because of you not noticing this person second intentions!" you defend yourself. "and because my friend must know I'm obviously dating you!"

"but see? you'll still get jealous, and this just meansㅡperilla leafs could lean into romance! you basically said it yourself! It's a way of flirting.." he says, looking very triumphant.

and at his reaction, you just roll your eyes smiling through it because you can't help it at this point.

"yeah..whatever!" you rapidly correct yourself in which he laughs. "all I'm saying is.. that I could only get jealous in circumstances like these because then I'll know this friend is obviously shamelessly flirting with you."

"but I wouldn't be falling in love with them." he says.

then suddenly, being caught off guard, you blink. “meaning… that you’ll help?”

"nope, I still wouldn't." he warmly says. "since I can't be comfortable with you doing it, I have to keep on my word. I can't do things that I wouldn't like someone do to me." then he adds, "and I would not fall in love with them, because I love you." he finishes saying when he plays with your fingers and his eyes tenderly lingers at yours.

"but.. you never know." voice small, you shyly say.

"no, I'm clear of it." affirming with a confident side smile. "I only have eyes for you, love." he says, gently grabbing one of your hands to leave a lingering kiss on top of it when your eyes can’t stop looking at his sweet actions. you do adored him so much..

"shit, I can't even look at other girls if it isn't you. I love you too damn much." he then chuckles when your laugh merges with his.

lovey dovey eyes staring at his.. “I love you too..”

with a smile on your lips, he mirrors your face too.

that night you both ended up fall sleep hugging each other on his big sofa. you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable than this.

the other night though..

“should I fuck you? nah… I don’t think you deserve it.”

you must’ve seen this coming. eager times always results into this. mostly when a jealous jungkook was very much present. you couldn’t believe how you were so easily lured into his words but the more you get to know and see the new sides of your boyfriend, the more you fell in love and the more you get turned on by him.

you couldn’t resist him in situations like these and it’s just that a jealous jungkook wasn’t just something you got to see everyday. he is normally pretty chill, but whenever he wasn’t.. oh boy.

…you whine with that. "Jungkook.."

"Jungkook, what? now you wanna beg?" a smug grin paints his lips.

you whine as you try to squeeze your legs.

"mm-uh." he opens your legs once again. "don't even dare to take this view away from me."

"but I'm so wet.."

"I know baby. but I can't fuck you if you keep playing around when I'm so serious." he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. "dead serious."

"I won't let anyone else fuck me if it isn't you."

"are you sure about that?"

"one hundred percent."

"No lies?"

"No lies."

and he smiles when a finger slides through your clit up and down teasing on it. "torturing you is like torturing me.." he sighs. "fucking wet." licking his lips. "want to eat you again."

"no," you fake cry still feeling his now, moist fingers. "fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"is that so?"

"eunggg"

“you will have to keep waiting then.” he smirks before going down on you all over again.

"fuck, I love eating your pussy so much. always so wet and greedy for me." his voice’s raspy when he spits on it, just adding more into your dripping pussy. "I love making a mess out of you." he groans.

his tongue rapidly moves up and down as he adds a certain weight on it that makes you want to scream your lungs out. - making out with your clit, one finger slides caressing your folds very teasingly.

"jungkook.." you cry.

"what, baby?" he lowly breathes, eating your cunt still. just this time looking up at you.

when you look down the sight is just so fucking hot. your hands hold onto his hair as he gives you those puppy but very dominant eyes. he loves teasing you like this. he knows how much you love when he treats you like this.

"babe.." your hips thrust into his mouth. as you expose your neck to him.

jungkook leaves a slow kiss into your clit very sensually. "fuck.." he sighs as your arousal mixed with his saliva, dripped down your ass. your pussy pulsating and clenching like crazy. "what do you want?" voice raspy.

"fucking make me cum, babe. please" you whine, trying to touch your clit with your fingers the moment jungkook stopped eating you. - he takes his hands off you.

"not yet baby.. can't let you cum just yet." he sensually and very much needy bites his lower lip. piercing just shining. him very full of desire, just wanted to slide his hard dick along your wet folds. he wanting to feel you coating his length. make a mess out of you, make you beg for him to get fucked - to want him to destroy you. he wanted you to be left thinking about him only, to let you know how you were his and his only even though he was pretty sure he couldn't claim a person, neither you. but he still very much wanted to. he wanted you to scream you were his and his only. he wanted to have you whole. he also wanted to punish you for ever thinking about having help for someone else but him. is not like nobody could help you but why would you ask or need another person's help when he was right there? it made no fucking sense.

he could be seems as calm and collected from outside but his want and need into wanting to ruin you, begging for him until his name could be marked onto your skin were just fucking growing so much. he wished he could just have you like this forever.

"you make me fucking crazy. I shouldn't even be treating you like this. I should let your fucking pussy scream for me. be left untouched until it's begging for me to be touched." he murmurs, palming himself with one hand as his other one rest on your thight and his legs keep yours spread out enough to feel every blow of breeze as he constantly slaps his dick on your clit from time to time and the sticky sounds going in and out of his head made him want to devour you and swallow you whole. he felt feral, his point of possessiveness getting the best of him but fuck, you deserved this. he needed to show you to fucking behave and not say that stupid shit in front of him -or anyone- ever again. It shouldn't even be a topic of conversation at this point. It should be obvious too.

so that's why he's sliding his thick length along your slit and juices, hissing and cursing to himself a lot - closing his eyes every now and then because his desire into fucking your sopping pussy was getting into him.

"I fucking want you all to myselfㅡfuck." he moans. "I can't let nobody else see you like this." he then exhales, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. "only me.. fuck."

"I want to fuck you so bad but you don't deserve it." he tortures himself.

you cry and move your hips along him for more friction and it's so sticky between both your genitals, you feel so horny for him.

"why do you do this to me.." his lidded eyes gazes at you. "..hm?" he slaps one of your thighs. "you want me to fuck you stupid?" he takes both your legs, placing them at the side of his shoulders. "Is that what you want?" he pants, voice heavy and gone while he continues teasing his tip between your folds. "fffuck.. tell me - baby.. do you want me to fuck you so bad?"

"nngn yes.." you cry, feeling very hot and needy for him. your hips keep moving with tip and the feeling was so hot.. you were so wet it was an absolute mess down there. "babyㅡfuck. fuck me please.. fuck me." you beg.

"tell me how bad you want me to." he watches as his dick masturbates along your legs. he starts slow, later on hard when he's already starting moving his dick back and forth, pressing a bit hard on your pussy between your folds. "should I let you have it?" he scoff clicking his lips and a grin playing along. his legs also getting sticky with your arousal. "I don't think so.." he teases.

"baby please.." you arch your back, body distorting, nipples very much erect, your own hand squeezed your boob. shit, you wanted him so fucking bad. "I won'tㅡah. I won't do that again." you look at him with pleading doe eyes.

"do what?" he dares. eyes cloudy as he glances at his tip rubbing against your needy pulsating clitoris.

"ask stupid questions like that ever again." you moan as you try to open your legs but he keeps them close to his neck, adding more pressure to his dick. breathing hard.

"stupid, huh?" he rasps, chuckling a little about it. lidded eyes piercing at you. his tip moving a little more sensual and faster along your clitoris. He gives small slaps to it while he slides his tip.

It feels so good.

"mhmh-" you feel like crying, the pleasure only rising.

his cocky laugh resonating through your whole body.

"wish you’ve said that earlier.." he whispers. "because then I wouldn't be fucking losing my mind right now." pausing. "you're mine okay?" he says while introducing himself into your needy hole.

the moment he introduces himself, you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely fully put his dick in. "fuckㅡbaby, relax." jungkook opens his mouth into a gasp. "do you want me to cum now?" breathing heavier.

“nno.. but you feel so goood.” you swallow your words when you feel the leaks of your pussy. jungkook is the only person that has ever made you feel this horny.

“fuck.. baby.. how am I so lucky?” he said that one last thing more to himself than you.

after not taking it anymore he makes you ride him instead. “jump on me.” and you do. “fuck yeah, nice and hard baby.. so good..” as he holds your waist with his big hands.

eyes looking up and down your body it was as if he was admiring you. the woman he has in front of him. the perfect sculpture ever made, the hottest girl he has ever crossed his heart and eyes into. it was getting a lot so his natural reaction was to delicately examine each part of your body like how his hands fit so perfectly into your waist, they way your vagina swallowed him just right.. how wet you always were for him.. just the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wants you makes him crazy. the way you close your eyes with each jump or bite your lips giving him that pretty nasty look with a side fucked out smile he loves so much.. you were so sensual, he absolutely loved that.

“I love you so much.” he says before leaning your body against his just so he could start fucking you back and that made you scream.

“agh! mmfuck”

he was going sort of fast and deep just how you like it. the way you could feel his breathing against your neck made your nipples get harder but also because of the little rubs in had with his chest. you tried putting your boobs on his face which was a success so jungkook started to lick them or tried to because he was fucking you so fast now it was getting messy.

“I want to cum.” you say as you’re getting close.

“don’t cum like this.” he answers when he’s already flipping you stomach down, ass up. “let me see that pussy swallow my cum.” when he slaps your ass making you arch your back.

“fuck.”

you closed your legs and leaning your chest into the bed. this position making you hold your boyfriends dick a bit tighter.

he exhales with a ‘ho’ sound when he slaps your ass once again. “you just get better, hm baby?”

damn it he sounds so fucked out.

you felt so full you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna cum!”

“fucking do it, I can’t wait neither.”

as soon as you do he starts fucking you with paused but hard and deep thrusts. your legs were shaking, it’s like he knows exactly how to get you over it. when he cums inside you, the sight of it was what made him more crazy.

“swallowing my cum just right, huh? fuck..” he squishes your ass to the point it leaves a red stain. “how you’re still so deliciously tight….”

and without noticing, you were horny once again..

if you were going to tell everything that happened that night.. you’re sure you wouldn’t handle to finish with just a few paragraphs but you could guarantee that everything that happened was worth enough to let anybody with more than their mouth open..

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfics #jungkook imagine #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #jungkook aus #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabbles #jungkook one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenarios #jungkook stories #bts #bangtan #perilla leaf jungkook #jungkook perilla #jungkook tattoos

[honnelander]

busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

--------- -----

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji #one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #sanji live action #opla #i loved how this turned out tbh #i may make a part 2 #just imagine the potential #thank you to the anon that requested this!