#so nervous.. its my first x reader in a while but I have so many Thoughts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i4-zuri · 2 days

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hello, i saw your reqs open and i wanted to ask if you could do a seokmin x reader where reader is a shy person who always listens and when they meet seokmin and he listens to their rambling and yeah, thnks in advance! :)

hi anon! thank you for requesting <3 i'm sorry this is kinda rushed + i kinda wasn't able to show readers shy demeanor lol, but i hope you like it!

comfortable with you. — lee seokmin x reader

; fluff, little angst, comfort – warnings: like 1 cuss word – wc: 1,481

note: first req ever, kinda nervous 😅i kindaa rushed it in the end,,, im sorry. BUT ANYWAYS!! i enjoyed writing this! i had so many thoughts on how i wanted to go with this, but stuck with this (kind of) short one. I hope you guys will enjoy this teww! not my best work tho

you love listening to people talking. you've always let people do the talking while you do the listening; its been in your nature since ever. they would talk, and you would hum in agreement or dispute, sometimes speaking your own thoughts. but sometimes, you wish you could just spill your unsaid thoughts to someone. but you can't, for some reason.

–

your junior year has started, new school supplies, new acquaintances, and, of course, a new seatmate. every first day of school always makes you nervous; everything is new, and by that you'd always have to introduce yourself; you hated it.

standing outside your new classroom with your other classmates, the teacher announced that she had already assigned the seating plan. you were kind of grateful, as you quite literally don't know anybody here; you got separated from your friend.

Ms. Shin, your teacher was calling your classmates one by one, then called your name, "next, l/n y/n!" you went up to her. "you'll be sitting next to lee seokmin, he's over there by the window, third row" she stated. you went in the classroom and walked to your seat, which is beside seokmin, your new seatmate. he sat at the aisle part, which left you sitting next to the window, and you were grateful for it.

you sat down and settled your bag behind your chair. honestly, you were pretty nervous because, for the first time, your seatmate was a guy. you were always seated next to girls for some reason.

"hi! i'm lee seokmin. but you can call me seokmin, or any nickname you can think of," he spoke. you quickly turned your head in his direction and just nodded, turning your head to look at the board in front. 'he's so... pretty,' you thought to yourself. it took a second until he spoke again, "what about you? what's your name?" he asked, and you turned to look at him again, quickly realizing that you haven't introduced yourself. "oh, i'm sorry! i'm l/n y/n sorry, did i come off as rude?" you replied, your voice lowering as you spoke. "ah, no, no! it's okay!" he giggled as he responded, waving his hands as a sign that it really is okay. "i'm sorry again," you said, voice low almost like a whisper. "no, i assure you it's fine! everyone gets nervous at the first day of school, even me," he stated. you just nodded, turning your head to look at your table.

your face was red in embarrassment, so much for a first impression with someone who will be next to you your whole junior year. you wished the floor could just eat you whole.

–

months into 11th grade, everyday was a struggle. there were new activities every week, mostly by partners, and you were grateful that in each partner activity, seokmin was your partner. seokmin is the most perfect partner you could ask for; he was always ready and always listened to the instructions of the activity given. you were so grateful for him; you probably wouldn't have survived first term without him.

right now, on a thursday afternoon, you and seokmin were at the library doing the essay activity given by your english teacher, a 15k word essay covering the important events and creations that happened during the renaissance, the deadline being monday. you were trying so hard not to cry as you were stuck on your third paragraph, the whole essay only having 487 words. usually you were quick with this; you love english, you always scored high on the subject. but right now, you were just not motivated enough to write properly.

"Hey, you okay there?" seokmin spoke up, noticing your distraught expression. you only hummed to his question. he was already making it easy for you; he has suggested that we should write 7,500 words each on our part to sum up the 15,000 so it would be easy. you felt bad as you were writing your part so... poorly. "we can take a break if you're stuck," seokmin suggested, "uhm, maybe i'll try to continue mine and you take a break. i wanna at least try and finish this third paragraph," you stated. "hmm, i think no!" he said cheerfully. seokmin closed his laptop, then yours. you looked at him in shock, but he just grabbed your arm, forcing you to stand up, then pulling you towards the door of the library. "s-seokmin! hey! what about our things?" you whisper-shout, "don't worry, we'll be quick!" he replied.

you kinda got used to this; whenever seokmin sensed that you were struggling or stressed, he would always do something to distract you until you were feeling okay. this time, he was pulling you in the hallways of the school, towards the exit, and then walked towards the ice cream stand near the school gate. "hello! can i get one vanilla ice cream and one chocolate ice cream? both no toppings!" seokmin said, the vendor nodded and made his order, "seokmin, i didn't bring my wallet with me." you stated, "its okay! its on me," he replied "no, i'll just pay you when we go back to the library," you said, "nu-uh, this is on me. i won't accept your payment," seokmin responded.

he's always like this. he does something nice for you, but whenever you offer to do something in return, he denies it. this is what you like about him, like as in platonically... yeah, platonically.

–

few more months in junior year, and your feelings towards seokmin kept growing, not platonically. you tried to deny your feelings, but every time you do, he does something that just makes your heart flutter.

and surprisingly enough, you've gotten so comfortable with him that each time you talked, you openly said your thoughts, even you shocked yourself. but, you still weren't comfortable enough to spill your deepest thoughts and rambles, rants you wish you'd said to the person who stressed your thoughts.

still, you were more than happy to be able to finally openly speak your thoughts, even if it weren't your deepest thoughts that hurt you. you were okay with this, you think.

–

but one day during the last 2 weeks of junior year, you were fed up. the world just kept testing and testing you, and you were so tired and just needed to rant, specifically to seokmin.

"and it's just... so fucking tiring! i don't get why they won't do their part. it's almost the end of the school year, and they're acting like this?! i'm just so..." you couldn't finish your sentence as you started to sob. seokmin looked at you with sad eyes, it hurts him to see you like this. 'why couldn't your group mates just do their job properly?' he thought. you sobbed harder as you thought about your uncooperative group mates, then seokmin hugged you.

it was the first time he physically touched you like this; usually he would tap your shoulder, pat your head, or pull your arm when he wants to show something, but hugging you? this was definitely new. but you were too tired to be shocked.

"mhm, i understand y/n." seokmin stated, you sobbed harder than before. for years in your life, you just wanted to hear those words—that someone understood you. you were always the one to listen; you never had the chance to be the one to rant as you grew used to listening. seokmin patted your back, still hugging you. it was so comforting; you wished you could stay there forever.

–

from that day on, you knew that you were super comfortable with seokmin. he's the person you trust your thoughts with the most. not a day goes by where you had to keep your thoughts to yourself anymore; you had seokmin, and he had you, of course. he was there for you, and you were there for him.

the feeling of finally being able to speak up about your deepest, unsaid thoughts and rants was so refreshing. of course, the more comfortable you got with him, the more your feelings grew too.

–

it was on recognition day when you had the courage to finally spill your heart out to seokmin. you were very nervous, but the funny thing was he beat you to it. he confessed first, leaving you shocked. of course you informed him that the feeling is mutual.

you were happy; he was too. your heart was so happy you felt like it would explode. you never have thought that you would find love this early in your life, especially with your old behavior of being shy. but seokmin was there, he was there for you in so many ways. he saved your heart and mind by letting you pour your unsaid rambles to him, and you were so grateful for him, for seokmin, who was now your lover 'till end.

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daistea · 27 days

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𝙻𝚊𝚘𝚒𝚜, 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

Word Count: 1,483

Falling In Love With You & Relationship Headcanons

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Laois

It takes a little while for Laois to realize the truth of his feelings, to be honest. He doesn’t have much experience with romance, and actually not much interest in it either, so he sees you as a really good beloved friend.

He falls in love without realizing and spends quite a while having no clue that he’s in love. Everybody else knows how he feels and are impatiently waiting and watching for him to realize it too.

Laois thinks of you often. Between the pages of monster doodles and notes are very badly drawn doodles of you. (He’s made you a monster-sona, it's very cool, but he's too nervous to show you.)

Laois says the sweetest things without realizing they’re sweet. He’ll always tell you that you look nice. He’ll always make sure you’re well fed. He’ll always make sure you’re safe.

He spends a lot of time around you. A lot. He’s like your shadow, or a puppy at your heels.

He only realizes how he feels after a big event, such as you dying in the dungeon, getting hurt, etc…

But even then, he’s not really sure what to do with himself. He starts to get more nervous and pulls away a little bit, but his actions with you also become more weighty and serious. His touches are more meaningful, he looks you in the eyes deeply often when he’s talking to you, he tends to put a hand on your back to lead you through the dungeon (though he gets flustered when he does that.) Laois basically starts trying to put more thought into how he acts around you, trying to be cooler or more charming, but this isn’t very sustainable because he’s not being himself anymore. This is probably fixed by someone in the party telling him to stop, or by yourself.

Laois is a clingy partner. He’s very touchy and unashamed about it. He doesn’t realize he’s touching you half the time, it’s just habit. He’s the type to absently draw circles on your thigh or hand.

He isn’t particularly jealous, mainly because he doesn’t realize it when people are flirting with you unless they outright say it. Then he’s just worried about you, and how you feel. He can be protective though, he just doesn’t really know what to do if it’s a human threatening you.

Buy this man a bouquet of flowers once and he’ll start thinking about marriage. He likes affection from you.

Laois’s love languages? All of it. Every type. Gift giving and physical touch are big for him though.

You ask Laois for a baby and he just thinks for a minute… His cheeks are a little pink as he asks, “What kind?” Preferably human, you say. He tries to hide his disappointment but agrees nonetheless.

Kabru

Kabru is immediately aware of what’s happening with himself. The very moment he hears you laugh and thinks to himself, “Wow, what a pretty sound…” He’s like haha hold up! No.

Kabru is a charmer and knows how to handle people. I believe he’s been in very light, casual relationships before, but nothing serious. At first, he’d assume his feelings for you are light, like usual. Nothing to be concerned about.

He starts getting the urge to dissect your thoughts and put each of them into little jars for him to inspect. He does not say this out loud and tries not to show it, but he stares a lot. 👁️👁️

His feelings for you quickly become a chess game that he’s determined to win. Unfortunately, you’re eating the pieces when he’s not looking.

He worms his way into your life very subtly. One moment, he’s asking you how you feel about the weather, the next moment he’s urging you to spill your childhood trauma. It’s only when he takes a step back and asks himself, “Why do I care so much?” that he realizes how serious of a situation this is.

Of course, Kabru cares about a lot of people. He likes to know things. But this is different. He wants to know every little detail about you simply for his good pleasure. Sure, he files it all away into neatly organized cabinets in his mind, but he has no intent to use that information for anything but your happiness.

For example: Kabru will most definitely remember that offhand comment you made about preferring a certain table at that one restaurant you visited three years ago. He’ll make sure you get that table. He knows exactly what you’ll order too.

When he’s wrong about you, though, it baffles but simultaneously charms him.

You people-watch together. He can probably read lips, and he tells you what the people around you are saying.

He needs to keep you away from the dungeon. Not because of anything you did, but because he might go a little mad if he doesn’t at least try to keep you away from that lifestyle.

Kabru is chivalrous and kind. He kisses your knuckles a lot, like a gentleman. He puts his hand on the small of your back. He fixes your hair if it’s messed up. He isn’t much for pda, but it’s obvious you two are a couple with the way he often whispers to you, catches your eye, and smiles at you.

He’s a blanket hog. He doesn’t mean to be, but he is.

Jealousy isn’t a big thing with Kabru. Sure, he feels it, but he stays calm and will simply wrap an arm around your shoulder and start a conversation with the person flirting with you. He’ll end up actually making their acquaintance and have a relatively okay conversation. He's still jealous, but distracted enough for it to not consume him.

Kabru's love languages are acts of service and physical touch.

You ask Kabru for a baby and he just laughs. He thinks you’re joking. After a moment, it sets in that you’re not joking and he gets flustered.

Mithrun

Mithrun is vaguely aware of what’s happening when he’s falling in love, it just doesn’t seem like something he needs to acknowledge, think about, or act on. He’s wrong.

To be honest, he doesn’t believe he’s capable of romantic love. He’s wrong.

It starts out very subtly. Mithrun starts to take more notice of the little things about you; the color of your hair in the sun, the color of your eyes, how your voice sticks in the back of his brain and refuses to leave. Mithrun knows what this means, but he doesn’t really care at the moment.

Then, it starts getting more intense. Without meaning to, he notices the shape of your lips, the feeling of your skin, the sound of your footsteps…

This is when he starts getting a little curious. Is this a desire the demon missed within him? Is this a new desire forming? Huh.

Pre-ending Mithrun chooses to ignore it because what’s the point? This results in some irritation for him, longing looks(he doesn’t look longing on the outside, but it’s there on the inside. What everybody else sees is just... a slight look of determination on his face. He has no idea he's making that face either nor does he really care.) and unexplained protective tendencies that shock the canaries and, occasionally, himself.

Post-ending Mithrun chooses to dig deeper because this is a desire forming and he wants to hang onto every tiny molecule of desire he possesses with all of his strength. This results in soft touches at every opportunity he has, willingness to do whatever you ask, and his constant presence with no discernible explanation.

Are you dating? Nobody quite knows, not even you.

Mithrun was naturally jealous and possessive before The Incident. He doesn’t get like that again until you come along, and then it’s like his old self wakes up a little. Just a little. He doesn’t make scenes or get emotional over it, but he will calmly walk up to somebody that’s flirting with you, touch their shoulder, then teleport them away from you.

If someone asks what you are to him, he simply says, “Mine,” or “Does it matter?” with a straight face.

He can be seen frequently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his head on top of yours if you’re shorter, or on your shoulder if you’re taller.

On occasion, he will be caught with a small smile as he holds you. It’s rare, but it happens. What’s he thinking at those moments? No one knows.

The canaries are incredibly nosy— aside from Pattadol— about your relationship, and Mithrun has no qualms about answering their invasive questions.

Mithrun’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch. You’re the only one he likes touching. He doesn’t say I Love You often but he will definitely lean on you a lot and protect you even if you don’t need it.

You ask for a baby and he calmly says, "Give me a week... What color do you want?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#this ones for the girlzz that have abandoned the concept of cringe #so nervous.. its my first x reader in a while but I have so many Thoughts #if its out of character then no don't tell me I'll cry #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #laois touden #laois touden x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru #Kabru x reader #mithrun #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #my writing #dungeon meshi headcanons #reader insert

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jellys-compendium · 5 months

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Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Häschen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s…König.

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

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

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

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

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

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

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Scheisse!”

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

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

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

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

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

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

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

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

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

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

Cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

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

“W-what?”

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

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

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

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

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

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

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want your cock.”

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

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today.

divider source

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

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kookslastbutton · 3 months

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii

✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)

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You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.

A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.

Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.

More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.

What is wrong with you?

You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.

That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.

‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’

‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’

These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.

You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.

Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]

Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.

You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]

You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.

Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.

Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.

Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.

“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."

The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.

“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."

Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”

You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.

"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"

Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.

"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."

"Because of the divorce you mean?"

"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.

Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.

"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."

When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.

"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."

"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."

You pause to take a breath before continuing.

"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."

"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."

The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.

"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.

"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"

"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."

Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.

"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."

"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."

It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."

Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.

Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.

Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.

"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.

"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."

Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.

As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.

Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.

How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.

You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.

Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.

"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.

"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."

You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.

The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.

Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.

Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.

Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.

Reluctantly, you complied.

Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]

"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.

"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"

"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"

"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"

Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?

You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.

You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.

"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.

But wait a minute.

You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.

Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?

Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.

You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.

“Tae-” you begin.

He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.

“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.

“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”

“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.

“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.

With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.

You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.

Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.

Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.

“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”

Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.

“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"

"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."

You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.

“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."

Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.

“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."

“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"

Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.

This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.

“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.

Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.

As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?

"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.

You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.

"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."

You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.

"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"

You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.

As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.

The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.

"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.

"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"

"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"

Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.

"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.

"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."

"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.

"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"

Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"

"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."

Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."

You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"

"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.

"I'm sorry, __. I am."

You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?

"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."

You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.

a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍

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#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

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neoplatinum · 3 months

Text

we meet again | huh 'jennifer' yunjin

summary: yunjin and reader go on their non-refundable anniversary trip...as exes

pairing: ex gf!yunjin x ex!reader

themes: exes to lovers, miscommunication, discussions of needs, angst, fluff, suggestive-ish, paris!, sprinkles of humor here and there

wc: 4.5k

you stare into your cup of coffee as you wait for your plane to be ready to take off, the warm coffee is a nice contrast from the coldness you can feel from the woman next to you: your ex of four months yunjin.

she's been all frowny and defensive ever since you picked her up for the trip. her huffing and puffing and crossed arms and legs as she looks away from you.

you haven't spoken to her in months until you got an email that the trip you planned for your anniversary with yunjin sent a reminder email. you cursed your old self for setting up an auto-email service to notify her of the trip too.

then she texted you:

jennifer huh (ex): did you plan an anniversary trip for us?

you call her immediately, knowing you have to explain what happened.

"hi jen, and yes i did plan this as an anniversary trip." you begin rubbing your forehead as you try and weasel your way out of this awkward conversation.

"okay...it says here it's non-refundable." yunjin has always been quick at reading between the lines and you practically prayed for her to miss that portion.

"ah yes, well it is non-refundable." you fiddle around with a stress ball as she talks.

"so are we going?" yunjin cuts you off.

"what?" you sputter out, the stress ball that's been in your hand turning being smashed as small as possible. you begin pacing back and forth and even end up stubbing your toe. "fuck!"

"are you okay?" yunjin stops in the middle of her explanation when you curse through the phone. you mutter a quick yes and she continues, "well its my ticket, and i want to go. were you planning on going with anyone else?" yunjin goes silent.

"well no, maybe my sister but you would still have to transfer the ticket." you explain and sit back down, damn that pinky toe hurts so much.

"so it is my ticket." yunjin continues and you nod through the phone, "okay, i am going then." you groan out loud and yunjin begins calling you dramatic.

"whatever yunjin, i'll pick you up for the airport, i'll talk to you later."

leading to you both now sitting by the airport benches, both of your luggage separating you by a seat. all around you are families or couples headed for paris, when all you can think about is how soon this will be over.

yunjin is sporting her long leather jacket and her newly dyed red hair, which if you were being honest scared you when you first saw her. now all you can do is stare at how well it works for her, even near cursing her for still making your heartbeat after dumping you.

"stupid red." you mutter to yourself as you swirl your cup.

"what was that?" yunjin takes off one side of her headphones and leans into you.

"oh, just nice red hair." she nods at that and turns back to her music, plugging her headphones in. you scoff at the audacity of her. with that you turn back to watching planes, and hope that this three day trip ends quickly.

you're settling into your seat and ready to plug your earbuds in for this flight when you notice the couple next to you giggling loudly while cuddling each other, rolling your eyes at them two.

the girl looks at you and yunjin who has taken the window seat, "are you guys going to paris for your honeymoon?" she asks you while the guy nods excitedly at you.

"uhh, no we're not." you let out a nervous chuckle as the two begin going on a long conversation (very one-sided by the way) about how in love they are, and how they're going to paris for their honeymoon/anniversary. all you can do is sheepishly smile along and hope their monologue ends soon (it doesn't). yunjin chuckles next to you and you kick her subtly to get her to stop.

while you suffer through the long monologue of how they met, how many cats they raise and even drama about their friends, yunjin finds it hilarious yet sad, because honestly, you two could've been that couple, had you two not broken up.

-- day 1

"gosh! they talked my ear off, you know i downloaded like five different movies and a bunch of playlists for that flight, only to not watch a SINGLE movie." you begin venting about the couple to which yunjin finds amusing and pokes fun at you.

"that's on you for not knowing how to exit a conversation." she smiles as you both get a cab to the hotel.

once you've placed your luggage into the trunk and set off, you continue, "listen, i've always been horrible at exiting those situations, didn't help that they were both so enthusiastic."

"i know, it's how i got your number, remember?" yunjin says and you stop for a second, thinking about the first time you met. It was at a concert where she was next to you, talking your ear off about how much she loved the artist. she came alone because none of her friends listened to the artist. you, being the kind soul you were, let her talk to you through the whole concert, even letting her talk through your favorite song.

"yeah, i guess so." you turn away from yunjin in the cab, with the rest of the ride turning quiet.

"roses on the bed, and a single king bed?" yunjin questions as you enter the hotel suite. you begin to heat up, remembering how you specifically requested rose petals in the shape of a heart and champagne in an ice bath, along with towels folded into swans facing each other and kissing. god, the things you do when you're in love.

"ah! well, it was for our anniversary so i made a special request." you say really hoping she couldn't hear you.

"well, i'm glad i came, now that i can see this, i can make fun of you for being so cheesy," she says as she grabs the champagne from the metal bucket. "damn, champagne's expensive too. how much did you spend on this trip?"

she pops the champagne cork and starts pouring the golden liquid into two champagne flutes. passing one of the flutes to you.

"too much, had to dip into my savings," you say as you think about the credit card bill, a full body shiver running up your spine just at the thought.

she laughs and smiles at you, "well, consider me lucky."

you cough and try not to think about how different this trip would've been had you two not separated.

"i'm going to go wash up." yunjin puts her flute down and starts digging through her suitcase. you nod settle into one of the armchairs and turn on the hotel tv.

the shower turns on and with that you try to quiet your heart, constantly reassuring yourself that you will get through this trip and be able to be back at home away from an ex you're still in love with.

"what did i get myself into?" you groan and close your eyes, letting the sleep overtake you.

"hey...hey wake up." yunjin gently shakes your arm as you wake up from your nap. you groan and mumble incoherent thoughts.

"how long have i been asleep?" the grogginess is still settling into your bones, you open your eyes to the sight of yunjin wearing more casual clothes but still looking effortlessly beautiful with her wavy red hair and adorable glasses perched on her nose.

"long enough, i'm hungry, let's get dinner." she says and you nod, feeling the hunger from not eating on the plane and immediately falling asleep in the hotel.

outside, the sun has started to set, people are chatting and bright lights are adorning the streets. people are lively and there's even buskers playing violin and guitars, enticing the people to spare a few coins for their astounding performance.

you trail behind yunjin, watching the way she absorbs into the parisian night, with her film camera in hand and a smile adorning her face. it makes you yearn, yearn for another universe where you're hers once more. but to also yearn for answers of why she dumped you all those months ago.

"let's go in this one." she turns around and you're snapped out of your thoughts, she points at the restaurant and you follow her in. the smell of delicious food and the warm atmosphere is making you more hungry.

"right this way." your server brings you to your booth. and you seat yourself in front of yunjin, honestly something you haven't done in so long, that it's like you're falling in love all over again. the warm yellow lamp hanging over the booth makes her skin glow, and not to mention just her in general has your knees weak.

instead of staring at her like a fool, you try to focus on the menu in front of you. it works well because after a few glances at the mostly french menu, you're beyond confused with what to order. eyebrows furrowing and biting your nails at the french words.

"are you ready to order?" the waiter stands before you and before you can get out a word asking what these dishes are yunjin is quickly ordering her dinner in french and you sit there anxious.

"and for you?" the waiter turns to you.

"uh, this one?" you point at the menu and show him, he nods taking quick note of the orders before leaving.

you're back to the awkwardness of not having a menu in front of you to distract you from the beauty that is yunjin.

"so....how are you doing? dating anyone?" you start, trying to break the ice. you fiddle with your thumbs and avoid her gaze as she processes the questions you have thrown at her.

"are you kidding me? that's how you are going to start the conversation?" she scoffs at your lame attempt at having a serious conversation.

"what? i think those are reasonable questions." you mumble to yourself, feeling embarrassed you start drinking the water next to you.

"fine. i am doing fine and no, i am not dating anyone." she crosses her arms and glares at you from across the table.

"cool cool...." you trail off, trying to watch other people and feeling a little giddy when yunjin said she wasn't dating anyone.

the waiter returns with a basket of bread and butter, also refilling water cups and smiling at you both before leaving quickly. it doesn't go unnoticed that he keeps eyeing yunjin and smiling at her throughout the interaction.

"what about you?" yunjin starts with a slice of bread in her mouth.

"oh me, no not dating anymore, of course not." you let the words tumble out of your mouth, forgetting how you are trying to keep your walls up around yunjin.

"what do you mean by 'of course not'?" she questions as she spreads more butter onto her baguette.

you also grab a slice of bread and start smearing it with butter, thinking of ways to exit this topic as smoothly as possible, "just you know...not there."

she nods and you can see that she wants to prod more into why, but the waiter shows up with both your dishes in hand.

"for you madam," he places her beef bourguignon in front of her. meanwhile placing your seafood pasta in front of you. "and for you."

"shit..." you mumble as you stare at your dish, yunjin sighs but lets out an amused smile at the sight.

"of course you managed to order a seafood dish because you didn't understand french." she laughs at you, and all you can do is feel even more embarrassed from how this trip is going. "let's switch."

yunjin trades plates with you, your heart warms when she remembers your seafood allergy. you thank her sheepishly and begin digging into your dish. "jen! this is delicious!" you exclaim with a piece of beef in your mouth.

she smiles at you warmly and takes a quick photo of you, making your cheeks warm at the sentiment, remembering her habit of taking photos of you when she found you cute.

the waiter returns this time, but you look at him confused because you haven't ordered anything else.

"hello madam," he starts while leaning on the booth by yunjin's side, showing off his pearly white smile and trying to be suave, "how are you enjoying paris?"

"it's lovely here, thank you for asking." yunjin starts, you can only watch as the two engage in conversation, making you more and more quiet as time passes.

they speak about parisian culture and even share a few phrases in french that you definitely could not understand. you end up only focusing on your dish until he leaves much later. yunjin looks back at you and is confused by the switch in your demeanor.

yunjin goes quiet at the sight of you so down, so she also begins quietly eating her (your) seafood pasta, and as the time dwindles to the end. the waiter returns with the bill and a napkin that he slips to yunjin, it doesn't take a genius to understand what he gave her.

you huff angrily as you pay for the dinner. and yunjin follows you out of the restaurant and disposes of the napkin in front of you. she turns to you with her hand open and waiting for yours. you take it as you both stroll down the streets of paris with full bellies and a noticeably happier mood.

-- day 2

yunjin has managed to convince you (you really don't know how) to go and get caricatures of the both of you for "memories". you groaned at the idea, but there you sat in the small ratty chair in front of the french artist, and waited for this quick drawing. after a few quick minutes, the artist hands you the drawing, showcasing a funny imagery of yunjin stomping your head to the ground as your relationship.

"hey! you can't draw that!" you exclaim as you go over the painting, you can't lie though, the guy was talented.

yunjin just laughs and drops euros into his hand before dragging you away from the chairs. "don't take it too seriously, it's just a drawing." she takes the drawing from your hands before stuffing it into her purse and folding her arms with yours.

"so, what should we do today?" she says to steer you away from thinking about the drawing.

"well actually, i had an itinerary ready for this trip," fishing your phone out of your pocket, you begin listing places that you wanted to take yunjin to. "the louvre?"

she stops her feets and her jaw drops and you can see her happiness just overflowing.

"yes yes yes! you know me too well, lifelong dream to see the mona lisa." she says and you smile, remembering that's why you put it on your itinerary, and soon you're flagging down a cab to head to the louvre.

god, you're never getting over her at this point. you try not to dwell on that thought and instead let things come as they are.

she's busy capturing photos of the mona lisa and other pieces, while you are capturing memories of her in your mind. taking slow steps behind her as she reads through the description of each piece that intrigues her.

she's gorgeous in her dark green leather coat, red hair flowing down her back with her trusty film camera looped around her wrist. she looks like she belongs in an art museum and you're left wondering if you can ask the art curators to put a picture of her as a piece.

once you reach the end of the museum, you begin to realize there really hasn't been any piece that has intrigued you to look at, even when yunjin was admiring the mona lisa, all you could focus on were her gorgeous eyes.

that day, you hope that you can always make her happy, even if she no longer is yours.

"of course we have to go to see the eiffel tower, i don't care that it's cheesy and cliche, we HAVE to go." she explains to you as she's touching up her makeup again. the two of you returned to the hotel after a long day of exploring local attractions, but now yunjin is explaining that you two definitely need to go despite how tired you are.

while she goes on and on about the importance of a paris trip including eiffel tower pictures, you try to keep your eyes open. the warmth of the jacket that you still have on, swallowing you.

"okay okay, we should go." you get up and start rubbing at your eyes, even letting out loud yawns as you put on your shoes. yunjin finally takes a look at you and starts to feel bad for pushing you to do so much today.

"you look tired, we can go another time?" she starts, feeling embarrassed.

you grab a hold of the wall as you tuck the back of the shoe over your sock, "not at all, let's go!"

you look tired, eyes lower than usual. with a stretch and a neck crack, you look more energized and ready to take on the night.

"let's go!" you exclaim, opening your palm for her to hold onto. she can only smile and think about how sweet it is that you are trying to do activities that she wants to do.

"okay, let's go." she responds, your hand wraps around hers tightly as you both get out of the car and walk through the crowd to get closer to the eiffel tower.

while yunjin stares at the little lights adorning the eiffel tower, sparkling like the stars in the sky, you try and take discreet photos of her. thinking about how you are basically in an alternate universe that exists only you and yunjin, and soon reality will return with you alone and single. these photos will remain to remind you that this trip wasn't a dream, what little you have to cling onto.

she's enjoying the night breeze and the liveliness of the people around her, but you're focused on her. she's also capturing photos of the eiffel tower but taking time to snap photos of the people around her. until her camera lands on you, snapping a photo of you, taking a photo of her.

then you both move away from your cameras and look at each other, and time feels like it stops when you both just admire each other. her eyes become glossy and tears are flowing down her cheek.

you make a quick dash to hug her, holding her tightly. you feel her lay her head on your shoulder and you can feel her body wrack into yours, with quiet sobs and she wraps around you like she'll lose you too.

it feels like the world is crashing around you two, with her grabbing onto your jacket and pinching it so hard. you start rubbing her hair in the motion that you know will bring her comfort, as it has done many times before.

you must've been there for a long time, because people are looking at you two in sympathy, a traveling florist even hands you a free rose to cheer you up. you immediately slip the rose into her pocket. and she stops hugging onto you to see the rose in her breast pocket. she smiles a little, and with a shaky voice, "let's go back to the hotel please."

you nod and hold her hand as you two take the long way back. her hand is still very much holding onto yours tightly. and by the time that you two are back in the room, she drops onto the bed and taps the be urging you to join.

you slip off your shoes and jacket and settle on the bed, facing yunjin. she twirls the rose between her fingers and finally looks at you.

"do you know why i broke up with you?" she whispers, and your body has frozen up, yunjin kept the break up very simple. a single 'let's break up.' over coffee and then she left.

"i don't." you whisper back.

"do you want to know?" she whispers back.

"yes, i really do." you sit up and watch her thinking for a while.

"i broke up with you because i didn't feel like you loved me anymore. whenever we hung out it never felt like you cared anymore, you were even inconsiderate at times and i think, no, i believed that you fell out of love with me."

you nod, but each word cracks your heart a little more, thinking about how wrong each word feels. it simply wasn't true, you never stopped loving her and the guilt of making her feel this way makes you want to vomit.

"this whole trip, i feel like i saw the old you again, the you that fell in love with me and showered me with attention." she continues her monologue and breathes harder at the emotions that were being kept at bay. "earlier, when you were taking photos of me and i caught you, it was exactly like our first date, it hurt so bad..." and by now she's sobbing and you're sobbing and it's all just a big mess.

"it hurts so bad that now i know you never fell out of love with me. that i made a mistake by breaking up with you and we've been months apart when we could've had this happy anniversary together." she continues with tears in her eyes and she's holding you close. alternating between crying and talking.

you take in the words openly, understanding the position that you've put her in and how hurt she was by your lack of attention. you can't even deny it either, those last weeks before the breakup felt like a rift between the two of you, neither knowing how to go forward. with yunjin making the final and unfortunate decision of dumping you.

"jen, you mean everything to me, and i'm so beyond sorry if it feels as if i never prioritized you." you are also trembling in her hold as she listens to you, nodding to your words every so often. "i never and mean never fell out of love with you. i'm sorry that it took a vacation to figure this out too."

she stops completely and holds your face in her hands as she completely dives herself into a passionate kiss. searing her lips against yours and pushing you into the bed more.

"you're mine." yunjin speaks in between kisses.

"yours." you move your hands into her hair and pull her close, bodies molding into one as the night goes on.

-- day 3

three quick knocks disturb you from your sleep, you rub your eyes and open them to the harsh rays of the windows.

"cleaning service!" you could hear outside the room, and you examine yourself. naked as ever and clothes all sprawled around, yunjin dead asleep on the other side of the bed.

"shit!" you run to the closet and grab a bathrobe and quickly tie it around yourself as you rush to the door. finally giving one glance at the bird's nest of hair, you pat down the hair as much as you can before opening the door slightly.

"hi! um, we don't need cleaning right now, maybe later?" you ask worriedly, the lady eyes your bathrobe and your hair and gives a smirk before walking away to the next room. you cringe at the idea that she knows exactly what you have been up to and close the door quickly.

"phew." you are relieved that they didn't walk into you and yunjin butt naked for cleaning service. meanwhile, yunjin has approached you from behind and wrapped her arms around you.

"hi, come back to bed." she pulls at your robe and pulls you towards her.

"oh okay..."you're confused but let her pull you back to bed. cuddling with her feels nice and reminds you of the days you spent lounging in each other's place.

"jen! i cannot believe you!" you stand on the far end away from her, backing yourself into a corner.

"what? i didn't do anything wrong." she stalks towards you with a devious smile as she watches you examine yourself in the mirror.

"you mauled my neck!" you exclaim as you claw at your neck looking left and right at the damage she's done. yunjin rather looks proud of her handiwork and instead pulls you onto her lap.

"okay no need to be a big baby about it, let me touch it up." she pulls out her concealer and starts going to town on the many hickeys she's left littered across your neck.

you huff and complain while yunjin lets you drone on while applying concealer until you're satisfied. she doesn't mention the new marks she's dug into your back, quite happy that only she can see them.

you both set out for a much chiller day outside, leisurely walking in parks and chatting while enjoying the parisian weather. you reach a quiet spot in the park, pulling out a blanket and your picnic basket.

yunjin doesn't comment on the humongous scarf that you have wrapped around your neck, but it does make her laugh a bit to see it.

you two are enjoying the nice breeze, when you hear smacking sounds nearby. looking around, you don't spot anything unusual until you notice a couple practically eating each other's mouths off. a closer look and you realize you recognize the two as the couple from the plane into paris.

you immediately turn your head to yunjin, "pss, the couple from the plane is at my six."

she quickly whips her head around and lo and behold the couple is still loudly eating each other's faces off. she laughs at the sight before capturing your lips with hers. "we should beat them."

"jen noooooo." you groan and turn away from her, uninterested at the idea of attracting their attention. she simply laughs and continues to enjoy the picnic. the rest of the trip goes well, often sharing little tidbits of your lives in the past couple months without each other.

after enjoying your "anniversary" trip in paris, you both get ready to go home. holding hands and kissing through the cab ride, plane ride and even through baggage claim.

you spot your sister out front of the pick-up terminal with a big sign "welcome back lovers!" you groan at the sign, of course she would show up with a poster plastering you and yunjin's photos to pick you up.

"she knows we're back together?" yunjin comments in confusion.

"i didn't even tell her, she just kept saying she knew we would get back together when the trip was over." you hold yunjin's luggage as your sister tackles yunjin into a hug, spilling about how much she missed her.

"i'm here too you know...your actual sister." your sister simply swats you away and enthusiastically asks about your trip to yunjin.

you drive off with yunjin's hand in yours and a warm smile as yunjin talks about the trip to your sister.

a/n: i apologize if there's any inaccuracies about paris, i've never been 😭 this post was inspired by a fic i read a longggg time ago. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x you #jennifer huh #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin x you #neoplatinum

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sushis-wild-imagination · 2 months

Text

Meet the parents (Seungcheol x reader)

Seventeen masterlist <3

Meet the parents part 2

“No, its Shampoo and then washing your body so the shampoo sits in your hair”

You and Cheol, your boyfriend of a 5 months, have been in his apartment, quarrelling about the stupidest thing.

You were both in the kitchen trying to cook something for dinner. Your best and safest bet was pasta and that's exactly what he tried to make. Keyword: TRIED

An abrupt doorbell rang, and you jump.

"Coward" Seungcheol laughs at you as he walks to the door. You stick your tongue out at him.

You heard him open the door. “Mom?”

Mom?!

You run into your room, do a quick fit check, straighten out your clothes and fix your face. Try to make yourself look as presentable as possible in the fraction of a second you got.

You stepped out of cheols room to see his parents walk in the hallway.

Do I look okay? Is my hair tidy enough? Will they let me stay? Should I make an excuse and leave? Im panicking.

All these thoughts come to your head while his parents smile at you. You smile back and wave a little awkward wave.

“This is my girlfriend, y/n”

You were glad he introduced you like that, not that you doubted he wouldn’t, but it felt good to be introduced like that, especially to his parents.

“She’s pretty” the mom says putting her stuff on the couch. You immediately help her with her stuff, taking it off her hands. All you could focus on was to make a good impression.

This is not how you had pictured meeting the parents of the love of your life. Cheol was the best boyfriend youve had and youve even spoken about marriage with each other and it had barely been 5 months. When it’s your soulmate, you just know, and this was exactly that. You’ve seen many relationships go to shit because the girlfriend did not gel with the mother, and you were terrified of the possibility. She seems like a nice lady though.

——

“Do I look okay?” You whisper to your said love of your life, Choi seungcheol in the kitchen now.

“You look perfect, don’t worry” he whispered back.

“He’s cooking pasta? You will have to get your stomach checked later” his mother jokes walking into the kitchen.

“I’ve been getting better! (Y/n) is teaching me! I can do pasta” Seungcheol whines.

“Poor girl, don’t ruin her stomach” his mom teases. It makes you giggle.

“If water was burnable, he’d burn that too” she says as the conversation moves to the dinner table. His mom dissing him every chance she gets is hilarious to watch.

The pasta he made was finally done and brought to the dining table.

His father engaged in some small talk. You were grateful, you couldn’t stand the awkward silences. He asked you the basics, where do you work, how you like it.

“So, do you live together?” His mom shoots at you without warning.

“Pretty much” cheol answers for you to take the pressure off.

“This new way of living together first before getting married is a good trend, it’s easier to see if you’re compatible, that’s good” she comments on nothing specific. Your face is on fire.

Neither of you knew how to respond to that so the conversation died.

“What do you do?”

“Oh Im an AI researcher at University”

They definitely don’t know what that means so the conversation died for the second time, mostly because you were nervous.

His mom accidentally dropped her fork. The sound echoed in the apartment, it was that quiet.

“Mom wait, let me get your a new fork” cheol oddly insists and rushed to the kitchen.

“Y/n, where are the forks?” You hear his voice from the kitchen. It was his acting voice.

He knows where the forks are.

“I’ll help him” you say sheepishly smiling. You get up and go into the kitchen confused.

“How do you not know where the forks are in your own apartment?” His mom calls out from the dinning table.

He motions you to come over to him with just his hand like he has a secret to tell you.

Of course he knows where the forks are.

“What is it?” You whisper.

“They’re going on a cruise next month, ask them about it” he whispers back.

Your cutiepie, your conversation iron man had come in to rescue you from awkward silences. You peck him cheek and whisper a “thank you” becoming excited and running out front.

“I forgot where I had put them, she seems to know where my stuff is better than I do” cheol comes out behind you and hands his mom a new pair smiling foolishly.

He sure acts well.

After some more pauses, you gather the courage to bring up the cruise.

“Seungcheol had told me sometime ago that you are going on a cruise next month, are you excited?” You try to strike the conversation up again.

You see his mom’s expression change to pure joy. You could see the lady was excited.

“Yes! Its a 2 week cruise to the Mediterranean sea”

“Sounds exciting, have you been on other cruises?”

“Ever since retiring, thats all theyve been doing,” seungcheol adds.

“All for her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she buys a ship and leaves me behind here” his dad chimes in and chuckles.

“Oh sure, I’ll go to this next one with my son then, Im sure he wouldn’t mind” his mom says a little annoyed.

“Don’t drag me into your fights”

“My aunt is in administration for one of the cruises, I can ask her for a discount on your package if you’d like” you say.

is that a bribe? Almost. Who doesn’t like discounts.

Luckily his mom’s eyes lit up.

“Maybe you guys can come with us next time as a family trip”

Family trip.

You never got family. You grew up in a broken home and did not particularly understand the dynamics of a working healthy happy family, like the one you’re seeing infront of you now.

Just imagining to be a part of this family was enough to bring you joy. All you hoped and wished that you would fit in well.

The rest of the night, his parents told us all about their cruise adventures and misadventures.

——

“How did I do?” You ask nervously, biting your bottom lip as he turns around after closing the door.

The parents had left, it was a good time, a little nerve wracking but a good time overall.

“You’re perfect” he says snaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer. “Im sorry they came in unannounced, if I knew I would’ve asked them not to”

“Are you kidding? They’re your parents, they’re legally allowed to come unannounced, I was just very nervous”

“Why?”

“I really love you, I don’t want your parents to hate me” you couldn’t stand the thought.

“They could never hate you, my love”

You sigh in relief.

“Although… her impression of you might change if you don’t get her that discount now” he teases.

“Oh I will get her that discount alright, even if I have to scale the earth twice”

He giggles at your determination.

——

Do you want the cruise interaction??? I have a thought starter, I’m so excited

Edit: HERES PART 2

#choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol #scoups #idol!reader #idol x reader #svt #svt scenarios #seventeen #carats #scoups x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #caratland

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calmcoldevening · 1 year

Text

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair

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pitchsidestories · 2 months

Text

New Romantics II Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2534

a/n: hi, this is inspired by the cute request here. Anyone interested in a part 2 ?

You stood at the window of your London flat, taking in the view over the city. It was a surprisingly nice day but the restless feeling in your chest kept you from enjoying it. Your girlfriend watched you from the sofa on the other side of the room.

Unsurprisingly, as she had been called up for Englands Senior squad before. Something you have also wanted for a long time. And you were hoping that today would be the day your wish would come true.

A sudden buzzing sound jolted you from your thoughts.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. You met Grace's eyes as you looked at your phone on the coffee table. It was still buzzing, the screen lit up with an unknown number.

“That’s her number, babe. Go and take the call!“, Grace exclaimed, bouncing on the cushions of the sofa.

“Okay, okay, calm down. You’re even more nervous than me.“, you joked before taking the call. “Hello?“

“Hello, y/n. It’s Sarina. I’m just calling to inform you that you made the team and we can’t wait to meet you.“, the national team coach immediately got to the point.

You could not stop yourself from beaming: “Thank you, Sarina. This call-up means a lot to me.“

With her typical dutch accent, she replied: “You really deserve it. I hope to see you soon.“

“I can’t wait.“

Your cheeks already started to hurt from smiling as you ended the call.

Grace walked over to you and wrapped her arms around you: “I can see from the look on your face that you got the call-up. Congrats.“

„Thanks.“ You shook your head in disbelief: “We’ll be going to the England Senior National team together. I’m so excited!“

You quickly pulled away from your girlfriend's embrace and turned on some music. You took Graces hands in yours and started moving the rhythm.

The midfielder laughed, trying to follow your movements. You had to admit that even though celebrating your call-up to the national team with a dance party was something you usually did when you played for youth teams, it never lost its fun.

However, one sudden realization made you pause after two songs.

“I guess I should tell my sister the big news…“, you said suddenly.

Grace turned off the music and gave you an amused look: “I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew.“

“You’re probably right. Lucy loves to chat with Sarina about womens football, maybe she gave her a hint during one of their conversations.“, you laughed, thinking back about the time your sister had told you about her discussions with her coach.

“Probably.“, your girlfriend agreed.

With a look on your phone, you had to correct yourself: “In fact, Lucy is already calling.“

Eagerly you answered your phone: “Hi, Luce. Sarina called me up for the lionesses!“

“I know! About time that you finally join the grown-ups.”, your big sister responded in a jokingly tone.

Amused you shook your head: “About time? Lucy, do I have to remind you that you were 22 when you joined the senior England team and that I just turned 21 in February?”

“Excuse me? Do you know who I had to compete with? Alex fucking Scott.”, she huffed.

“Yeah, yeah you had no chance before that I know the story, you told it many times.”, you teased her while the Barcelona defender could hear Grace laugh in the background.

Because you two were on a video call you were able to see Lucy lifting an eyebrow in this exact moment unlike her eyes her ears were hearing everything:” Who is with you? Is that Grace?”

“Yes, that’s Grace, we celebrated our call ups together before you called and interrupted us.”, you explained smirking.

She rolled her eyes at you:” Sorry, that I wanted to congratulate my sister.”

“No, it’s cute.”, Grace interjected.

You both wrinkled your nose, pretended to be disgusted by her comment, while the defender was the first to speak again:” Ew, don’t call this cute.”

“Yeah, we’re not cute we’re cool sisters.”, you added.

“I’m going to hang up now. I’ll see you in camp.”, Lucy declared. You both didn’t need to say anything more because you two knew that the other was excited and happy to meet her sister again.

“Goodbye, Lucy.”, you waved at her before ending the video call.

Still smiling you turned around to face your girlfriend:” Where were we before she came between us?”

“We danced but don’t worry I ordered our favourite dinner to celebrate this special day right.”, she winked at you.

Beaming you placed a kiss to her flushed cheek:” You’re the best.”

“If I was a Bronze, I would just say I know but I’m not so you’re welcome.”, Grace said, even a bit redder than before.

“No, I prefer you as a Clinton.”, you told her.

“Thanks.”

As the doorbell rang, she clapped her hands, looking thrilled:” Oh, that’s the delivery service!”

The days went by quickly, in just a blink of an eye Grace and you were arriving at St. George’s Park together. Your girlfriend didn’t even look like a boyfriend with her brown hoodie and cap on, she even had the attitude of one as the forward was attempting to carry both of your suitcases.

“Babe, I can take my suitcase perfectly by myself.”, you pouted at her, being a Bronze made you very independent although you secretly loved when Grace did something like this.

“No.”, she decidedly waved you off.

You both turned your heads to a cheerful scream coming from no other than Ella:” My favourite young lovebirds have arrived!”

Next to the Manchester United player your big sister showed up grinning, warning your girlfriend:” Clinton! Let her carry her suitcase herself, she’s getting spoiled!”

“You don’t get to have a say in how I treat my princess, Bronze. Especially not when I saw pictures of Ona carrying your things.“, Grace retorted unimpressed and continued to carry your suitcase towards your room.

There was an audible gasp from the older players.

Lucy pretended to gag: “Princess?“

“Don’t you dare say anything more!“, you warned and followed your girlfriend to your room.

You stayed in these rooms before with the youth teams but this time, things felt different, more serious. You took your time to take in the room before you started unpacking.

You were in the middle of putting away your warm-up shirts, when there was a knock on the door.

“Come on in.“, you said, expecting Grace to stand in the door way.

To your surprise, it was your sister that opened the door and let her gaze wander across the chaos you had created while unpacking: “Of course it’s chaotic in here already.“

“Rude!“, you said and threw a shirt in her general direction.

Lucy casually caught it mid-air and shook her head: “Typical.“

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at your sister: “So, what do you want?“

“Checking in on you.“, she shrugged casually.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you.“, you teased her.

Lucy raised an eyebrow: “Sweet? Sarina made me do it.“

“She did?!“, you laughed, knowing full well that your sister was just pretending to be too cool to care about you.

“Yeah, she’s such a mum.“, Lucy rolled her eyes.

“But we’re adults here, I don’t need a babysitter.“, you protested.

“The youngsters always get babysitters.“

“Oh wow. Any advice for camp life, Lucy?“, you asked.

You older sister lifted a warning finger: “Yeah, be good or you’ll get in trouble with your sister.“

Before you could reply that Lucy was horribly annoying with her overprotectiveness, Grace appeared behind your sister with an innocent smile: “Sorry to interrupt you two but it’s dinner time.“

“Let’s go. We can’t miss that. The food here is great.“, Lucy said, nodding in the direction of the floor.

“Coming.“ You took Graces hand in yours as you followed your sister to the dining room.

“Look at this cute couple!“, Beth yelled when you entered the room.

Alessia who sat next to her Arsenal team mate agreed: “They’re so adorable.“

You could feel your cheeks heat as you sat down at their table.

Lucy grimaced in disgust: “Stop it, one of them is my little baby sister you’re gushing about.“

Lauren James who sat down next to Lucy with a full plate gave her a smirk: “Looks like she got all the good genes, Bronzy.“

“LJ, what do you mean by that?! Don’t worry, I’ll beat you on the training pitch.“, Lucy threatened her with a grin.

“You can try, grandma.“, the youngster laughed.

“Don’t you worry.“

You were glad that their playful bickering was entertaining the table now.

Gently, you squeezed Graces hand under the table: “Let’s ignore them for now and grab some food, love.“

“It’s kind of funny though.“, Grace grinned and got up from her seat, pulling you with her.

“Yes, it is.“, you admitted as you walked over to the buffet together.

As the blonde was putting some salad onto her plate, she hummed:” I love this team.”

“Me too.”, you nodded.

After taking a bite from the pasta dish your girlfriend continued raving:”And the food is delicious.”

“Oh yes, you weren’t promising too much.”

You two were back at your table and you really enjoyed the food the cooks made for the team.

“Right?”, Grace beamed at you.

“Yes.”

“But wait until training starts tomorrow.”, the Tottenham player reminded you why you were here in the first place.

“I’m ready for it.”, you truthfully replied, you simply couldn’t wait to prove everyone that you had a right to be here and not because you and your sister shared the same surname.

Delighted Grace announced:” It’s going to be fun.”

The training over the next days was tough and light-hearted at the same time because the atmosphere between the girls was great even though you were all competing for the starting eleven or to be substituted.

You couldn’t believe your luck when Sarina told you during the match against Sweden to warm up.

“Nervous, little Bronzey.”, Khiara asked you amused.

“A bit.”, you mumbled.

“You can do it.”, Esme whispered into your ear before hugging you shortly.

Making your way from the bench to the pitch Sarina patted encouragingly your shoulder: “She’s right, enjoy it, y/n.”

“Thank you, I won’t let you down.”, you promised the England coach before you stepped onto the grass. For a moment you felt overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd which showed up at Wembley remembering when you attended the first games of your big sister where only a few people came to watch it.

Naturally you looked for Lucy and for a second you exchanged a meaningful glance. Her green eyes which were the exact same shade as yours seemed to say Show them what you can do. You’re a Bronze. Now you were ready to play football.

In the end you didn’t disappoint Sarina who believed in you enough to give you a chance tonight, you assisted Grace and scored a goal yourself in the last minute of the game. The stadium was buzzing with excitement and so were you: “We won, Grace!”

“What a game you had!”, she shouted back giddily before kissing your cheek.

Equally thrilled you remarked:” You were amazing too.” Wearing a bright grin on your lips you turned around to face your sister:” What do you think, Luce? Was it good enough?”

You could tell that your sister forced her face to remain blank as she shrugged: “You were okay. The kiss wasn’t necessary though.“

“Yes, it was!“, Grace protested by your side, her hands wrapped around your waist in a side hug.

“Absolutely not.“, Lucy said and rolled her eyes before walking past you into the dressing room.

Grace and you shared an exhilarated grin and followed suit. As soon as the door of the dressing room closed behind you, you turned to your girlfriend and kissed her quickly and passionately. As soon as two of you broke apart again, you found your sister demonstratively looking into the opposite direction. You smirked.

Keira elbowed Lucy with a thrilled expression on her face: “Your little sister feels untouchable tonight. Those two are lucky that they are cute.“

“They’re not even that cute.“, the defender replied unimpressed.

Leah sang along to the song playing in the dressing room while pointing to you and Grace: “Baby, we’re the new romantics. The best people in life are free.“

Keira shrugged with a laugh: “Leah’s singing is even worse compared to them.“

Finally, the corners of Lucys mouth quirked upwards.

It was already late when you arrived back at the hotel. You had enjoyed celebrating your debut with the rest of the team but when you reached your hotel room, you were exhausted and ready to go to bed. You had just changed into your pyjamas when there was knock on your door. Yawning, you opened it and found yourself face to face with your older sister.

“Hi, what’s wrong. It’s late.“

Lucy stood there and considered you for a moment: “I’m proud of you, kid. You played great tonight.“

“I thought I was only okay.“, you smirked.

“Shut up and come here.“, she just said and pulled you into a tight hug. Her hugs might have been rare, but they always carried a lot of love. It felt comforting, almost like being home for Christmas and you suddenly realized how much you have missed playing with her again.

With your head was still buried on her shoulder, you whispered: “To be fair, I was a bit nervous… You made our family name so big in womens football and I didn’t want to let you or our team down.“

Lucy released you from the hug but kept her hands on your upper arms: “You couldn’t have let anyone down. You’re not me and people know that. One day, you might even be better than me.“

You gave her a weak smile: “Who knows, right?“

“Who knows.“

“But it felt great to play together.”, you admitted.

“We’ll have a few more games together, trust me. You’ll be called up again.”, Lucy replied seriously.

You felt your grin grew deeper: ”I’d love to play with you as long as possible.”

“You’ll.”, she promised solemnly while padding your back one last time before telling you good night and leaving the room.

“Finally, I thought she’ll never leave!”, Grace sighed relieved, the blonde had been hiding underneath the blankets during your whole chat with your sister.

“Grace!”, you exclaimed laughing.

“What? I could barely breathe under this.”, the Tottenham player said as she pointed accusingly to the bedding.

“Sorry, love.”, you apologized.

Her gaze at you turned soft:”Come here now.”

You quickly followed her wish and joined her in your hotel bed. Happily, Grace wrapped your arms around you. Feeling her warmth around you, you were starting to get sleepy:” That was a great game tonight, wasn’t it?”

“The best so far.”, your girlfriend responded, before she kissed the top of your head and turning the lights off. Today was certainly a day you both would remember and cherish forever.

#grace clinton #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton imagine #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso community #woso oneshot #lionesses #engwnt #tottenham women

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hysteria-things · 4 months

Note

hi! i recently found your account, and i js wanna say omg ur so talented, like ur fr my new fav writer. could u maybe write something about a virgin reader, whos only ever fingered herself, and so when matt (or chris but im a matt girl and im being self indulgent about this), and she squirts, and is super embarrassed about it and he comforts her about it? u dont have to, but idk i js think u could do this idea rlly well:)

FIRST TIME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x virgin!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt have been together for quite sometime, but never had sex. he knows you’re a virgin and he’s so patient with you, but now you think you’re ready

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluff!, making out, mini panic attack, praising, p in v, squirting

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,066

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for anon and @mattsleftnipple03

these were pretty much the same so i combined them! hope you like :)

thank you and love you guys🫶

the pen in your hand scribbles on the piece of paper in front of you as you ponder. you’re in art class and your best friend sits across from you at the big table.

art class is basically a free period because let’s face it, you guys don’t do anything except gossip and draw for fun.

you’ve been asking your friend a series of questions about what losing your virginity is like since she has experience. the only experience you’ve ever gotten was your fingers, and to be honest, it gets old after a while.

you’re not embarrassed about being a senior in high school and still a virgin, but your boyfriend who graduated last year lost his with his ex a while back. you guys have talked about having sex for the first time for quite some time, but you were never ready.

no words can describe how grateful you are for matt. he’s been super patient and understanding with you.

but now, you think you’re ready.

“is there a reason you are asking me these questions?” your best friend asks, raising a brow.

you shrug, your hand still having a mind of its own with the pen. “i’m thinking about going all the way with matt.”

she smiles, genuinely looking happy for you. “oh my god! when?”

“i told him i plan on this weekend.”

“that’s so exciting!”

“yeah, but,” you pause to take a deep breath. “i feel nervous.”

she reaches over to stop your drawing hand. “it’s totally normal to feel nervous. matt’s such a sweet guy. i’m sure if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort, he’ll stop immediately.”

you smile at the mention of your boyfriend. she’s not wrong. matt will do anything to make you feel comfortable. he’s not one to force anything on someone. “you’re right.”

she gives your hand a light squeeze. “let me know how it goes.” she winks just as the bell rings for dismissal.

the rain outside is pattering on the window, you and matt cuddling comfortably on his bed. you guys just woke up from the best nap of your life.

you nibble on the inside of your mouth. “matt?”

“hm?” he hums, picking up his head that was resting on your chest.

“i want to do it.”

he beams at you. “positive?”

you bite your lip in excitement and nod. matt lifts himself to get more serious. “don’t be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?”

“i know,” you reply. he leans in and kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. he breaks the kiss to take off his and your shirt but goes back at it to unclip your bra.

the skin-to-skin contact felt warm and comforting, but your anxiety is starting to take over.

you try to brush it off until matt reaches for your pants. yanking his hands away, you cover your top half with the comforter as you feel tears start to form.

matt freezes, a hint of guilt on his face. you try your best to take as many deep breaths as possible. “i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs soothingly to calm you down. “n-no it’s not you.” you take three deep breaths before continuing. “it’s silly. the thought of a penis about to be inside of me freaks me out.”

you chuckle along with him, the humor helping you relax. “we don’t have—”

“i want to.” you say truthfully. “i just need a second.”

he goes through different breathing techniques with you until you calm down from your mini panic attack. he asks if you're okay at least a hundred times before you shut him up by kissing him again.

he hesitates with your pants not wanting to trigger you again, but after a beat, he pulls them down with your underwear.

his pajama pants soon end up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. he comes under the blanket with you and pecks you on the temple, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. “so proud of you.” he starts, making you blush. “you ready?”

you give him the okay, and he slowly starts pushing into you. the stretch makes you cringe and hiss, causing him to halt. “hurts?”

you shake your head. “pressure… keep going.”

dampening your lips by licking them, he continues to move. his eyes are dead set on your face to sense any discomfort. you let out a ‘mmph’ when he’s all the way in.

when he doesn’t see any bad signs, he starts moving his hips. you moan softly, the pain turning into pleasure.

“you can go faster,” you whisper, and he does. your nails leave crescent marks on his shoulders as he peppers kisses on your chest, neck, and face.

you squeeze your eyes closed, the softest of sounds leaving your lips. then, your legs twitch, and a watery liquid squirts out of you. your eyes widen, and matt stops the second he notices. “what’s wrong? need me to stop?”

“no. i think i…” your cheeks burn, too embarrassed to admit what you’re thinking.

“that’s okay. it’s completely natural.” he reassures, grabbing one of your hands to interlock with his above your head. “you’re doing so well, y/n. so fucking proud of you.”

he continues to rock his hips, this time pulling out more and thrusting back in a smidge harder. “oh.” you moan, arching your back when he starts hitting a certain spot. “oh shit, matt. just like that.”

he tries his best not to pick up speed to scare you, so instead he keeps the rhythm you’re comfortable with. he grunts, taking the hand that’s not holding yours and placing it on your hip.

the grip you have on his hand tightens, indicating that you’re close when his tip keeps abusing your g-spot.

you whimper, your legs starting to quiver from pleasure. “i’m close.”

“cum, baby. you’re doing such a good job.”

you sigh of relief when your cum slowly starts to ooze around him. matt’s right there with you with just a few more thrusts before spilling into the condom.

the feeling of him pulling out of you makes you wince, but then you two giggle. “i did it!” you say proudly, holding up your hand to give him a high five.

he laughs. “damn right you did.” he takes your high five, followed by a handhold.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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auteurdelabre · 3 months

Text

As long as you want / Joel Miller x f!Reader

As long as you want - Joel!Miller x f!Reader

Part two

words: 5.3k

Summary: When you're injured in the stables one morning your patrol partner and enemy Joel Miller is the only one there to help.

Tags: Enemies to friends/lovers, Kissing, Mentions of Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Mentions of Scars, Medication, Mentions of violence, Joel POV in parts, mentions of 'baby', Tooth-Rotting sweetness in parts, mutual pining. NO y/n.

a/n: Originally gonna be part of my ‘So Much to Lose’ story, but the characterizations didn’t feel right for it, so I made a few tweaks and now this is a one-shot.

Dedicated to @katiexpunk because she took the time to send me the sweetest most encouraging message filled with lots of advice and just damn fine support for a woman who sometimes feels invisible on this platform.

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

On mornings you wake up earlier than usual it's because of anxiety.

You never know when it's going to hit because it's never logical. Sometimes it's a day you have patrols, sometimes its days you have nothing at all.

You've been an inhabitant of Jackson city for almost fourteen months. That's plenty of time for your nervous system to adjust, to know that you're not being chased by the infected or fighting malnourished raiders.

But your brain doesn't seem to grasp that yet. Every few months it wakes you before sunrise leaving you breathless and terrified until you adjust to your surroundings and remember that you are in your home. That you have a real home with a soft bed and easy access to food.

And yet those days, like today, you can't go back to sleep. You can't force your body to relax again. You're all nervous energy and you need to calm down.

Thankfully you've discovered one place that gives you that sense of calm; the stables with the horses used on patrols.

You shower and pull on your clothes and are out the door quickly. It's so early that Jackson city is still slumbering and the sky is still dark and will be for a while longer. So it's just you and the dirt path that leads to the stables for company.

You see your favorite dark brown horse Milly, the one you ride for patrols. The one who keeps you safe while you and your patrol partner survey the nearby areas.

The patrol partner that apparently can't sleep either because as you approach Milly you see him inside the stables petting Glimmer gently behind the ears.

Joel Miller.

Of course he's here, the annoying man. Not one moment of peace is possible for you today.

The patrol partner you've been stuck with for the last year. The man who vacillates between mute and mocking when he's around you.

You hold in a scowl as you view his shoulders flexing as he smoothes his large hand down her mane, murmuring in a low rasp.

He's an austere figure in Jackson. Aside from his brother, sister-in-law and Ellie you don't see him interact with many people. You don't even think he has a girlfriend.

Not that you would care if he did.

Not at all.

Well, sure when you first met him on patrols in his form fitting jeans and shirt that positively strained over his broad shoulders you had been intrigued. And the face wasn’t half bad either - strong nose, captivating eyes and under his patchy beard…

Don't think about his mouth.

So you'd introduced yourself, citing that you were excited to be working with a man of his reputation. Because he was already a legend in Jackson City before you arrived - Joel Miller was ruthless, a crack shot, a prolific fighter.

He'd blinked in reply at that before he'd opened his pouty mouth and all the burgeoning attraction that had been building came crashing down.

"Don't know why they stuck me with a newbie."

It had only gotten worse from there: Cutting remarks about how you held a gun, sarcastic observations about your riding. By the end of your first patrol you'd officially decided you hated him.

Over your time together the animosity had morphed from all out mutual derision to a comfortable dislike between you two. An antagonistic relationship built on banter and irritation.

The only truly good thing about Joel is Ellie. She’s funny and brash and you love chatting with her. Plus when you see then together that dark countenance Joel maintains gives way to a soft kindness that radiates from him.

But Ellie isn't here now in the stables. Only Joel with his salt and pepper curls and lean neck.

"Hey Miller," you say with an exasperated sigh. He turns abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing on your face.

"The fuck are you doin' here this early?"

"Could ask you the same," you mutter as you give Milly a pat.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

Joel hums a reply, turning around to fully face you before leaning back on the stable wall. He watches you petting the horse and takes in the dark circles under your normally expressive eyes.

"You look like shit."

"How charming," you muse darkly. "It's a wonder you're still single."

Joel huffs a laugh, his mouth curling into a crooked grin.

That fucking mouth.

When it's not curled into a sneer or a smirk aimed in your direction you can't help but notice it's so soft looking. Plush, pink lips that don't fit the rest of his stern face.

Stop.

"I do just fine in that department don't you worry," Joel offers in that typical confident yet abrasive way of his.

"In that case you should ask out Martha next," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure she'd love some one-on-one time with Jackson city's most mysterious and handsome bachelor."

Martha is one of Jackson's kitchen workers. She's almost seventy and has a very obvious crush on Joel because she mentions how handsome he is at every opportunity.

You smirk to yourself at the thought of him taking her to dinner. You don't even notice that he's drawn over to you petting Milly until you feel his breath on the back of your head.

"So you think I'm handsome?"

It comes out of Joel in an exhale, raspy and amused when he sees you sputter. You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wide. He's close, close enough to touch.

"No. I-I mean, it's just that- that's what Martha says," you say, feeling your cheeks heating. "About you being handsome and stuff. Not me."

Joel rarely looks this amused in your presence, but right now he's grinning so broadly a dimple has appeared in his right cheek. He's so close you can feel the warmth of his body.

"You sure, darlin'?" He teases his voice dropping to a purr. "You’re gettin' mighty flustered."

Darlin'.

That's new.

You hate how your pulse hiccups at the sound of it.

"Get over yourself, Miller," you manage in a shaky scoff before letting yourself into the pen with Milly, desperate to escape Joel's proximity.

You feel his eyes on you and in a panic you move behind Milly to reach for the hairbrush propped on the fencing.

"Watch it-" Joel starts.

It's your own fault what happens next.

Milly makes a terrified whinny and kicks out her back legs. You feel a sharpness in your side that takes your breath away, knocking you into the side of the pen. Milly makes another jolting motion and you feel Joel's hand pulling you back sharply as you yelp, clutching at your ribs.

Joel guides you out of the pen with a hand on your shoulder, dark eyes peering into your face when you both exit.

"Why the fuck did you move behind her?"

"I wasn't thinking," you groan, doubling over and resting your head against the nearest wooden stall. "Fuck."

It's a miracle you weren't too close. If you'd felt the full weight of Milly's power you wouldn't still be standing, albeit curled.

Joel stares at you, noting that you're white in the face, your spine bowed. You're clearly in a lot of pain.

"C'mon," Joel says, tugging the loop of your jeans, trying to prompt you into continuing to walk. "S'go."

"Where?"

"The clinic," he answers gruffly. "Stop wastin' time. C'mon."

"I can't move," you tell him, tears of pain slipping down your nose as you double over. "It hurts too much."

Joel mutters something under his breath before he strides away from you and out of the stables. You wait a few moments and when he doesn't return you feel a shocked puff of air escape you.

He just left you. Abandoned you in some of the worst pain of your life. You knew Joel Miller was an asshole you just didn't realize how much.

You fall to your knees, clutching at your side, the scent of hay and horse suffocating you. You wish you'd never come. Never tried to bond with another living creature.

Your head moves up slowly when you hear voices and footsteps from outside approaching. To your shock Joel and a tall woman with silver hair are there and Joel is murmuring to her.

"..n't sure if I should move her."

"Good you didn't," the woman assures him. "Could've done more damage."

The two of them move over to you and the woman urges you to breathe deeply after she introduces herself as Gemma the town nurse. You do, wincing loudly as a sharp pain nips your left right side.

"Fuck!"

Joel is standing back by the stables, petting Glimmer absently. When he hears you cry out his brows rise.

Gemma urges you to lift your shirt so she can see if there is swelling or bruising. You try but cry out in pain so she quickly lifts the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to just under your breasts. You panic when you realize you don't have a bra on.

"A bit of swelling," she tsks as her calloused hands sweep gently over your midsection. You whimper at the sensation, every swipe feels like agony.

You flush when you realize Joel is staring over at you and his eyes linger along the bare skin of your abdomen on display. He catches your attention on him and quickly looks away, nonplussed.

"Nothing's broken from what I can tell," Gemma hums thoughtfully.

"Doesn't feel like it from where I'm standing."

Gemma smirks and you think you catch a hint of amusement cross Joel's features.

"Likely a bruised rib," Gemma says with a concerned furrow of her brows. "You shouldn't be doing patrols. Not for a few weeks until this heals. You need plenty of rest, fluids and ice."

A strange feeling overtakes you then. Something between elation and disappointment at the thought you won't be going to do patrols for a bit. You don't understand why. You and Joel rarely get along, you should be thankful for the break. But you suppose you'll miss the consistent schedule.

"I brought a few painkillers I could spare," Gemma offers, rummaging in her coat pocket. She opens the glass bottle to reveal less than a few dozen white pills that you don't recognize lining the bottom.

"Is that all we have for painkillers?" You ask, concerned. "For the whole town?"

"For now these and a few dozen bottles of aspirin," Gemma nods. "When there's less snow we'll be able to scour around for more."

You look at the paltry selection and shake your head. "Nah, I'm okay. I'll just go home and rest."

"You'll take one right now," Gemma orders. "And you'll take a few more to get you through the night."

"I'll take two total," you negotiate, taking the first and swallowing it dry. The second goes into your jeans pocket.

You wait a few moments until the pill begins to take effect. It could be psychological but you feel like it makes it manageable to start walking.

"When you're getting up and down hug a pillow to your middle," she instructs. "Helps lessen the pain of the strain."

"Okay," you nod as you begin to shuffle. "Thanks a lot."

"Joel," Gemma turns to the lurking figure at the end of the stall. "You'll walk her home?"

Joel nods just as you shake your head.

"That's not necessary."

Gemma fixes you with a look she must have given dozens of obstinate patients over the years.

"Have you ever tried to climb stairs with a bruised rib?"

"No."

"Thought not. Let him walk you home and get you into bed."

You go to deny this but Joel is already herding you towards the path that leads to your neighborhood.

"S'go."

You walk slowly, shuffling down the street after Joel who walks at least three paces ahead of you. You don't mind, you don't really feel like chatting.

"Why'd you try to turn down the painkillers?" He throws over his shoulder as if just to annoy you.

"Because there weren't that many," you say grimacing. "And I'm not in that much pain."

He pauses, waiting for you to catch up. His dark eyes survey your hunched stance.

"Liar."

You keep shuffling, trying to ignore the irritation you feel at his curious expression.

"Yeah it hurts a bit but it's nothing compared to Chester's broken leg from chopping wood last month is it?" You reason, starting to feel a bit spacey from the drugs. "And what if something like that happens to someone else and I took up all the supplies because of a bruised ribi brought upon myself? I'd feel terrible."

"You shouldn't have been in the fucking stables to begin with," Joel says darkly. "Then you wouldn't have had to use any."

"I wanted to see the horses."

"They ain't pets."

"I’m aware," you throw back angrily. "But being with them in there makes me feel calm."

"Try meditatin' next time," Joel bites out.

You've arrived at the bottom of your front porch steps and you're all out of patience for Joel Miller.

"You can just leave me here. G'night."

"I'm followin' the doctor’s orders," Joel snipes, taking you by the arm so you can lean against him as you walk. "S'go, I don't have all day."

You grumble as you lean into his muscled arms, hating that you need to rely on him in any way.

"Quit complainin'," Joel grits out. You wince in pain and embarrassment as he slips an arm around your waist, the other hand on your free forearm helping you up the stairs.

"Slow," Joel murmurs. "Slowly now."

His voice is low and rumbled. You feel his breath on your temple as you take each step, wincing at the pain.

"Yep, just like that," Joel continues, his fingers curling around your hip as you take another step slowly. "Good girl."

Good girl.

It's the same way he talks to the horses. That gentle, husky coo. You know he doesn't mean it sexually but that doesn't stop it from hitting you directly below the navel.

You unlock the door, confused when Joel follows you inside. He scans the humble single story home, eyes falling on the paintings on the walls, the guitar by the fireplace.

He didn't know you played guitar. Or painted.

Joel knows you like to read, that you had a brother who died when he was young. He knows that your hair knots easily in the wind and that you hate the porridge in the dining hall. He's passively gathered information on you over the months patrolling together. But this? This is all new information to be stored.

He glances at you hobbling towards the bedroom and feels a mixture of irritation and pity go through him at the sight. He hates seeing you in pain and he feels a wave of protectiveness seep into his bones.

"Don't go in the pens anymore," Joel instructs. "I'm serious. It's not safe."

You turn around just so you can glare at him properly. He's standing by your table, acting as if he belongs there.

"You don't give me orders in my house, Miller," you say without thinking. "You're just mad I won't be around to deal with you on patrols and you'll have to do them alone because no one else in town can stand you."

The second it leaves your tongue Joel's face goes pinched and a cold. A cold, sticky sensation crawls along your insides at the sight of it.

"I'm sorry," you say quickly. "Fuck. That was such a shitty thing to say. Especially since you went and got me help. I'm just tired and in pain."

Joel nods slowly, his face as always, unreadable.

"Really, I didn't mean it,” you insist. “I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he huffs.

"So you forgive me?"

"Nothin' to forgive," Joel offers in a tired rasp. He takes you by the waist again, shuffling you into the bedroom. "C'mon."

He eyes your bedroom as the two of you shuffle into it, taking in the dried flowers in the window, the scattered books on the end of your bed. He smiles to himself at the sight.

"Couldn't decide what to read?"

"Read 'em all," you say walking slowly to the bed. "No new ones that interest me at the library so I was seeing which one I'd re-read."

You go to lower yourself onto the mattress but stop when Joel frowns at you and his hand taps your shoulder gently.

"You're gonna sleep in your clothes?"

You shrug. "I'll manage."

"You're covered in mud and hay," he states flatly.

You go to grumble that you don't particularly care when you feel Joel's large hands land on the buttons of your jacket.

"What're you-"

"Hold still," he murmurs with his eyes on his fingers as he unbuttons all ten of the fasteners on your long jacket. You wince when he pulls it off of you, delicately.

He's being gentle with you.

Joel is never gentle with you. He’s caustic and points out when you fuck up. He makes you carry heavy lumber with him when repairs need to be done. But now he’s touching you as if you’re made of spun glass.

He drapes your jacket over the chair by the window before returning to see you fighting with your jeans button. It hurts to move your arms like that right now. Every inhale is like a stab. Frustrated tears are sliding down your cheeks.

Joel doesn't like the sight of your tears. It makes him close the distance between the two of you quickly, chocolate eyes soft.

"Let me," he says business-like. "We'll do this quick and you can get into bed."

You want to deny him but you know he's right. You don't want to wake up tomorrow even more stiff, wearing dirty clothes and unable to undress yourself enough to shower. His fingers are at the waistband of your jeans and you're impossibly thankful he doesn't make the fatal mistake of meeting your glassy eyes.

Joel's fingers deftly pop your jean button then slowly lower the zipper. You hear him take a soft inhale before his thumbs curl at the waistband, dragging them over your hips and letting the denim fall to your knees.

You look to his face and you see his eyes flit from yours back down to his boots.

"Sleep clothes?"

"Dresser."

He nods, turning from you. Your cheeks burn, your heartbeat picking up the pace. Fuck, it must be the pill.

He pulls out a cotton nightdress as you clumsily step out of your muddy jeans. You cover your front with your hands the best you can, feeling shy standing there without pants in front of Joel of all people.

"Feels weird to be going to bed in the morning," you offer in the awkward silence.

He's back, eyes on your t-shirt, trying not to notice the high cut of your panties or the fact that you look so fucking enticing standing there with your shapely legs on display.

Joel is uncomfortably aware that he's not gonna be able to take off your t-shirt without getting hard and he doesn't want you feeling worse than you already are. He knows how much you despise him.

"T-shirt is clean," he reasons. "Can probably sleep in that."

"Yeah totally," you agree quickly looking between Joel and the bed.

You groan and blink a few times because a strange fuzz has started in your brain.

"You should go," you swallow, trying to ignore the arousal building in your core. "I'll be fine."

"I'm makin' sure you get into bed alright."

"Then what? You gonna read me a story and tuck me in?"

You're surprised when a soft giggle escapes from you.

"Stubborn brat," Joel mutters, even though his mouth is fighting against a grin. "Get in the fuckin' bed."

You feel oddly relaxed, even fond of the annoying man when you watch Joel pulling back the blankets of your bed for you. Regret and shame quickly follow when you recall your hard words from earlier.

"I'm sorry about what I said," you tell him quietly.

“You already said that.”

"Lots of people like you in town."

"No they don't," Joel says with a shake of his head and a grim smile. "My brother and Ellie are about the only ones who like talkin' to me."

"And me," you add with a yawn.

"Only cuz you got stuck doin' patrols with me. You gotta talk with me for those."

"I don't mind talking to you," you tell him honestly. "Sometimes I think you're funny."

Joel straightens, noticing the soft dreamy quality to your voice. He sees you swaying as you stand and he approaches you quickly. He peers into your face, seeing your pupils like large saucers and holds in a chuckle.

The irritation you feel towards Joel has been replaced by a dizzying bliss that has you smiling dopily as he nears.

"Drugs are workin' I see," Joel observes and his voice seems far away even though he's standing so close.

"Mhmm," you purr, leaning back before wincing and grabbing your side. "Oh fuck."

"Take it easy," Joel grumbles and his dark eyes swim into view. Have his eyes always been so pretty?

Joel I think..." you mumble something after that. You don't even know what you're saying. It's possible you're just making gibberish noises.

He leans closer, eyes squinting as he tries to parse the unintelligible stream of random sounds. His mouth is so full, his lips so sweet looking.

Something about his face so close and the lack of inhibitions from the medication has you feeling bold.

You move your face towards his so quickly he doesn't have time to shift back. Your mouth crashes into Joel's, lips slotting between his.

His lips are so soft. Full and soft and warm. You groan in delight as your hands go to his collar. You try to deepen the kiss, your tongue trying to slip between the seam of his lips but Joel is pulling back, his hands taking yours from his collar.

"The fuck are you doin'?"

There's a part of you that knows what you've just done is insane. But that part is so quiet, so far away. All you can feel right now is contentment and you smile up at him with eyes almost closed. He drops your hands.

"Mmm...Your lips are soft."

Joel is staring at you, mouth hanging open in slight surprise. You want to kiss him again but you're so fatigued from the medication you just give a yawn and feel your eyes shut firmly.

"M'tired."

"C'mon now sleepin' beauty," Joel chides, guiding you by the small of your back to the bed. He sits you on the edge of the mattress before placing a pillow into your arms.

"Squeeze it as you lay back."

"M'kay," you say doing as he asks, your eyes still closed.

He watches you, grimacing himself when you let out a soft yelp as you lay back on the bed. He waits for you to unclench before taking the pillow from your arms and tugging the blanket up to your chest.

"Lips are so soft," you say again as his face hovers above you. "How are they so fucking soft?"

Joel tries to hide the amused grin on his face. You're so loopy it's quite endearing. He can't wait to tease you about this when you're back at patrols. He can picture your scowl now, the flush that rises on your neck first and then your cheeks when you're embarrassed.

"Are my lips soft?" you ask in a concerned voice.

Joel licks his lips subconsciously, replaying your mouth on his. A sensation he's trying not to fixate on.

"Yeah," he finally relents in a husky whisper. "Real soft."

Plump and soft and sweet and everything he's been imagining they would be.

Without thinking he reaches over and brushes the hair from your eyes, taken by surprise when your hand weakly takes his wrist.

"Kiss me again, Miller."

"I can't."

"Please," you beg, your eyes cracking open. You start to whine and shift towards him in the bed before the pain hits you sharply and you wince.

"Fine, just lay back," Joel grumbles even as his heart picks up its pace in his chest. You do as he asks, sleepy eyes glancing up at him.

He leans forward and gives your cheek a chaste kiss before pulling back. He has to hide the amused chuckle when he sees your grumpy face.

"I wanted a real kiss."

"That was a real kiss."

"I meant on the lips."

"Tell you what," Joel says, greatly amused. "If you can look me in the eyes tomorrow when you're med free and ask me to kiss you, I will."

"Promise?"

"Yep and I'll make it a good one."

"Okay," your medicated self agrees quickly. "I'll ask tomorrow."

He knows you won't. You won't remember anything. He takes a seat at the edge of your bed, watching you slip into slumber.

Joel knows that he doesn't have to sit here any longer. He's got you in bed, you're drifting off, his job is done. And yet he lingers, watching your face go placid before you seem to wake yourself up.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Miller."

"Uh huh," Joel says with disbelief clear in his voice as he plumps the pillow next to your head in case you need it. "I'm sure."

"You don't believe me?"

"Go to sleep."

"Member that day we went on patrols by Westons?" You slur eyes half closed. "And there weren't enough horses and we had to share one?"

Joel is surprised that you remember that. It was almost eight months ago.

"Uh huh," Joel nods, leaning back from where he sits at the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I remember."

"And we got to that clearing and you helped me down so we could do a perimeter check?"

"Yup."

"I wanted to kiss you then," you share. "When your hands were on my waist and you were smiling ... down at me. I thought... You were... so ... Handsome and... You smelled so good... Like leather n'..."

Joel sucks in a lungful of air slowly as he watches you fall back into a light doze. Your hand on your abdomen rises and falls as you begin to snore lightly.

Joel remembers that day at Westons. He remembers the way your arms felt wrapped around his middle, your body tight against his back as he rode with you on the horse.

He remembers that his horse was taller than you were used to riding. How you'd hesitated asking for his help to get down because he knew how prideful you were.

He had rolled his eyes, holding out his arms to you before you'd even had to ask him.

"C'mon now. Stop wastin' time."

You'd said something scathing back to him before allowing him to pull you into his arms.

He remembers the sound of your breath in his ear and the way your sweet scent enveloped him. You'd clung to him, slowly sliding down the length of his broad body before standing on the ground. His hands had lingered on your waist, smiling down at you in amusement at your discomfiture.

But then the gaze had lasted a little too long when he realized at this proximity he could see so many details in your face. The length of your lashes, the deep color of your eyes, the beckoning curve of your lips.

He'd always thought you were pretty. From day one he'd been enraptured by your smile. An attraction he hadn't felt since Sarah's mom. A frightening feeling that had him scowling at you and turning from you.

He remembers how he went home that night drunk on the memory of your soft body against his. He remembers how he fell asleep aching at the memory of your lips and eyes.

He remembers how ever since that day he's tried to convince himself he isn't attracted to you. That he isn't excited every day he has patrols with you because he gets hours of you to himself.

It's the reason he was at the stables so early this morning. Knowing he'd be on patrols with you tomorrow had him keyed up.

Joel doesn't like people getting close. It's easier to have most everyone hate him. And even as the months went on and your wit and humor broke through his outer wall, he still worked to keep you out.

But now you've all but admitted how you feel about him. And even if you forget it all tomorrow, he heard it tonight. The truth revealed. It makes his legs feel weak to know that the attraction exists on both sides.

"Joel?"

Your voice is soft but he sees the furrow of your brow. You're awake and anxiously looking for him in the darkness. Something about that small action makes his breath unsteady.

"I'm here, baby."

The soft smile you shoot his way makes Joel's insides turn to jelly. He doesn't even cringe when he belatedly realizes the pet name. You won't remember it.

When your eyes find his silhouette in the fading darkness he sees you visibly relax.

"I was worried you were gone."

"Nope. Been here the whole time."

"Good," you breathe before yawning so widely your jaw cracks. Joel sidles closer to you on the bed, his dark eyes scanning your face.

"You feeling okay? Any pain?"

"No pain," you say dreamily. "Just sleepy."

"Go to sleep then," Joel soothes, unable to keep the affection from his voice. "Doctor’s orders."

You nod and he thinks you're nodding off when your hand reaches for him.

"Come lay next to me," you say with a cracked voice. "Please?"

Joel hesitates before he sees you trying to sit up to convince him. You're gonna be in worse pain tomorrow if you keep that up.

"Fine fine. Just stop squirmin'."

He toes off his boots and slips off his jacket, placing it over the chair holding yours. After a moment of hesitation he lowers himself onto the mattress next to you, overtop the blanket. He hears your soft sigh as your head tilts towards him.

He rolls onto his side so he can face you, seeing your eyes closed languidly.

Your sweet face is highlighted in the dawning sun coming in from the window and Joel feels his heart throb at the sight. He sees you fighting sleep, eyelids fluttering.

"Go to sleep, baby," he murmurs. His fingers rise between the two of you coming to trace along your cheek. "Just go to sleep."

You give a soft exhale.

"Feels good having you here, Joel."

Joel feels himself melt at those words, his long fingers finding yours on the bed. He takes your smaller hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his calloused thumb gently.

"Will you stay for a while?" You whisper, your eyelids growing still as your body goes sluggish.

He smiles over at your placid face and answers you even though he's fairly certain you've fallen back asleep.

"I'll stay as long as you want."

#joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #dad joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction

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violetsrxse · 4 months

Text

Just How I Remember - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: After 50 years of being trapped Under the Mountain you, your brother and Prythian are finally free of Amarantha's rule. After all the suffering, you finally get to return to not only your home, but also your mate.

Warnings: Mentions of UTM, just some angsty fluff ig.

Word Count: 1,442

A/N: This is my first ever piece that I have ever posted and the first thing I've written in a while, so I'm a bit nervous. I'm thinking of making this into a series though and tbh this is more of a prologue than anything. It's a bit shorter than I would've liked but I'm still getting back into the feel of writing.

Amarantha’s reign was over, she was dead.

It was a lingering thought as you walked through the halls of what was once Prythian’s sacred mountain, now a hollow shell, the walls imbued with the agonised screams of Amarantha’s victims.

Your mind wandered to the time before this mess had occurred. Before you and so many others had been deceived and caged like animals, reduced to cattle under a sadistic monster's rule.

After walking for some time you reached a spiral staircase, venturing upwards, closer and closer to the light that filtered through an opening in the rock. You reached the top, being met with a doorway carved into the stone, leading to a balcony overlooking the forest surrounding the mountain.

Amarantha hadn’t let you leave, not even once. For fifty years you hadn’t been anywhere but under the tons of rock.

Walking through the door, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, your eyes stinging slightly at the brightness.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw the sun. The sweet warmth of its rays on your skin, the leathery membrane of your wings. Couldn’t remember the feel of the wind as it brushed the hair over your neck, your shoulders.

You gazed in the direction of Velaris, though so far away, you could almost see it. The distant memory of the beautiful snow capped mountains, the bustling streets of the city that you and your brother gave everything to protect. You’d be returning soon, you’d be home.

You hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tug on the bond in your chest, the nerves had gotten the best of you. You knew it was irrational to be nervous, knew he’d be happy with just knowing you were okay. Alive. It had been so long since you closed down the bond, shutting him out. Not only for his safety, but also your sanity, not wanting him to know the horrors you had been subject to.

What you had been made to do to others.

It wouldn’t be long before Rhysand was finished meeting with the other High Lords and you would both winnow home at last.

Your mind spun, recalling all that had happened in the past three months. The arrival of the human girl, her undying determination to save her love. Your brother’s growing interest in her, the way he’d tried to protect her. He hadn’t yet told you anything about why he’d done it.

But you had a good idea of what it was.

He was your twin after all, he was basically an open book.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Rhysand appeared at your side, looking to you before furrowing his brows in concern. Taking your face in his hands, your brother wiped tears you hadn’t even realised were falling from your cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling you into his chest. “It’s over now, we’re going home.”

Sniffling, you wrapped your arms around him, willing your tears to cease.

“I know, it's just been so long since I’ve been outside,” pulling away you trained your attention back on the scenery before you. “I’d forgotten how good the sun feels.”

He stayed silent, tucking you into his side. For several moments, you simply watched the clouds go by.

Rhys broke the silence, “Let’s go home.” His words were rushed as if he couldn’t stand one more moment away from home, from your family. You couldn’t either.

Nodding, you took his hand before night swirled around you, jarring but familiar.

And before you knew it, you were home.

𓆩♡𓆪

Velaris was as beautiful as you remembered.

When the darknesses whorled away and your sight was no longer blocked, you got an undisrupted view of the city you had missed so much. The sounds around you faded away as you beheld the people walking the streets, free to live safely. Untouched.

With your gaze fixed on the rainbow, the Sidra. You didn’t sense the presence of several people entering the room before a warm hand was pressed to your shoulder.

Released from your stupor you whipped around, a set of hazel eyes meeting your own violet ones. There were tears there, primed to fall down his tanned cheeks.

Without a moment's hesitation, you were flinging yourself into his arms, gripping tightly to him as heart wrenching sobs tore their way from deep in your chest. Arms wrapped tightly around you, supporting your weight as your knees gave out under you.

His soft voice broke through the onslaught of your cries, a hand brushing over your back. You only gripped him tighter.

It seemed like forever before you finally gathered the strength to pull your face from his chest, meeting his eyes once more. Your lip trembled as those gentle, scarred thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks.

Words escaped you as his eyes scanned over your face, taking note of every new scar. The flicker of rage in his eyes was short lived as you brought your own hands to his face, smoothing over his skin. He was the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

“My love.” Was all he said before tugging you back into his chest, brushing his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I missed you so much,” you finally managed to choke out, “I thought I’d never see you again.” The sentence ended with a hiccup of a sob, it only made him wrap his arms tighter around you.

Up until this point, the others had given you the privacy to reunite with your mate, leaving the room with Rhys in tow. You hadn’t even noticed.

Pulling away slightly, you looked up at him again. His eyes first, then his lips. He understood immediately, leaning closer slowly before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Brows pinching together with the effort of keeping your tears at bay you kissed him back, fingers drifting into the hair at his nape.

You held him, relishing in the closeness you were deprived of for half a century. Never wanting to pull away you kept kissing him, but he kept it soft as if he were scared to break you.

After what felt like several minutes you finally pulled away, regaining your ability to speak.

“Azriel.” You whispered, near unbelieving that he stood before you.

“Y/N.” He answered with a small smile on his face you hadn’t seen apart from in your dreams in such a long time.

You can’t help but smile back at him and though it is small, it makes him beam nonetheless. Finally pulling away from each other you remember the rest of your friends- your family.

“Where is everyone?” You inquire, scanning over the space around you. The soft crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faelight spread throughout the room creating a warm atmosphere, the couches situated in a crescent shape for weekly game nights. It was the exact same as you remembered, as if it hadn’t been touched since you left.

Perhaps it hadn’t.

Watching you closely as you take in your surroundings, Azriel answers “They wanted to give us a moment alone,” A pause “they didn’t want to overwhelm you. Rhys went with them.”

Nodding, you just now acknowledge the low voices flowing from the other side of the door, leading to the kitchen. You smile fondly at the slightly louder voice, it was Cassian.

Walking over to the door you open it, smiling as you take in your family. Mor in her usual red, Amren in her grey set and Cassian clad in the Illyrian leathers that may as well be moulded to his skin at this point.

It’s Mor who reaches you first, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that you quickly reciprocate. Followed by Cassian, picking you right up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. Even Amren hugs you briefly, the only sign of her relief.

Azriel stands close to you, a fond smile on his face and a barely there pinch to his eyebrows that most would miss with a glance. It concerns you, but you understand the guilt that he and the rest of the Inner Circle must feel. Over what you and Rhys had done to protect them, what you would’ve done until your last breath as long as it meant that they were safe.

Rhys waits until you part before a serious expression washes over his face, his eyes hollow. You know that he’s going to say something to sour the mood, and that he’s feeling guilty to have to do so.

You understand though, because it isn’t over.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #just as I remember #azriel angst #azriel fluff

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cheriladycl01 · 3 months

Text

My girlfriend jousts! Charles Leclerc x SouthKoreanOlympicFencing! Reader

Plot: Charles Leclerc finally dates outside of his friendship circle, nobody in the paddock has met you yet. He invites you to your first race and tries to explain your job to everyone...

Credit to givemegifs for the GIF

You walked next to your boyfriend F1 driver Charles Leclerc. It was your first time in the paddock with him and you were very nervous. You'd never met his team-mate Carlos Sainz, or any of the drivers for the matter.

You reached out to take his hand which he took happily, pulling it up and kissing the top of your hand.

"There's no need to worry! Everyone's going to love you!" he smiles down at you, you rub your thumb over his knuckles as a comforting gesture for yourself.

You both swiped in and he didn't leave your side, no matter how many people came up to talk to him. Weather it was the likes of Will Buxton, wanting to talk to him about the car, or a fan asking for a signature on a Ferrari cap or one of his fellow drivers offering him quick good lucks for the weekend as they rush off to whatever media duties they have.

"Come on, lets go find Carlos! I'll introduce you to Rebecca" he smiles as you both head over to the Ferrari motorhome. You can tell everyone really is like family there, Charles walks you round introducing you to all the mechanics and the social media staff. Literally anyone he can find he goes up to, and he knows their names and is asking them about their families.

"Oh! Yes this is my girlfriend Y/N. She's much cooler than me... she jousts for her job!" he exclaims using the worst way possible to describe what you do.

"Excuse me?" the man laughs, not really understanding what Charles was trying to explain your job as.

"I'm a South Korean Olympic Fencer. I competed in the 2021 Olympics in Tokyo. Charles just finds it funny to tell people i joust like some medieval brute!" you smile at the mechanic who laughs nodding.

"I knew i recognized you from somewhere, just couldn't put my mind too it where I support Italy!" he smiles and you nod at him.

"So what's it like being a fencer?" he asks.

"I enjoy it, there's obviously a certain level of talent too it and dedication but i've also found its rather artistic" you smile while explaining how you've linked your training schedule up to Charles' with Joris so you can get fitter before the next games.

You'd placed silver which had been incredible but like most olympians or people in sort you wanted that gold. You'd noticed major improvements in the way you'd fenced since you'd gone to training with Charles. You basically copied his everyday routine. You ate what he ate and you exercised like he did.

Next up Carlos came jogging over Rebecca as graceful as ever floating behind him greeting everyone that she passed.

"Omg hello! You must be Charles girlfriend. He and Carlos have told me all about you!" Rebecca smiles but you struggle to understand her because of the strong Scottish accent. It took you months to get around the way Charles spoke that you actually found it easier if you both spoke in French, which you'd learned at school. But you eventually both got around that curve-ball.

"Hello. It's nice to meet, both of you. Charles has also told me lots about you!" you admit smiling at her, she pulls you into a hug which you kindly accept and try to not make the first contact awkward.

You all ended up having lunch together in the Ferrari hospitality talking about everything and how you'd be flying back to Korea next week. Carlos said how he was upset that the Korean International Circuit wasn't on the roster anymore and that he'd never driven round it and might never get too.

Charles was very touchy all day, every time he left you to go do something team related he either held onto you while you walked him to wherever he needed to be. You'd wait and he'd rush straight back out pulling you into a hug kissing your neck and burying his head into the crook of it.

"What's wrong Jagiya (Baby)?" you asked looking to him and holding him.

"I just want to go home with you" he sighs, you can tell its not been a good day with the media considering they kept asking about his DNF in last weekends race.

"Mmmmm and we will. But I think you have some more friends to introduce me to" you grinned at him.

He introduced you to Lando and Oscar, who you both enjoyed their vibe. You found it easy to make conversation with Lando and his upbeat energy and Oscar had very funny and comedially timed inputs and ad libs to the conversation but also had a comforting silence you enjoyed.

He also introduced you to Pierre saying how they'd been best friends since they were very young and they'd come all the way through Karting together.

Pierre asked his girlfriend Kika to come over and introduced the two of you. Being similar ages you both got on having similar sense of humors and were into the same things.

You spent the rest of the day walking round the paddock with her, until someone caught you for an interview. It seemed to be Sky News, you'd been privy to Sky News before when they captured you in the Olympics.

"So Y/N it's your first time here! How have you found the energy of the paddock?" he asks.

"Yes, it's been very faced pace I think I've met and spoken to more people today than i have in my 23 years I've been around!" you joke laughing with the presenter.

"And how does it feel, as a Silver Olympic medalist to be around a sport like this?" he asks.

"Yeah, I mean from a very young age I was active and enjoyed different types of sport. My mum really wanted to pursue Taekwando as it's our national sport but I was never an aggressive person. I tried football and then when i was sent to a boarding school I was enlisted for fencing and I just stuck with it!" you answer politely.

"So, as i'm from the UK I would assume that your Premiere League Team is Spurs?" he asks hoping you liked football still to this day.

"Yes, I do. I try watch them at any opportunity i can! Sometimes and don't tell Charlie but I've skipped qually to watch them play" you say biting your lip a little.

The quick interview wraps up and it was safe to say that afterwards Charles Leclerc was now having to share his girlfriend with everyone online who had fallen in love with her personality.

"You look cute here!" Charles says latter that night a still from your interview on the TV where he'd paused it. You were laughing at something the interviewer had said and you hand was over your face covering it while your sharp eyes crinkled from your smile.

"Mmmm today was fun! I'd like to come to this more often!" you smile at him, flopping down onto the bed and playing with the collar of his red team shirt.

"Yeah? You would?" he asks and you nod before pulling him into a hug.

y/user

Liked by charlesleclerc and others

y/user: Amazing weekend at my first race! The Scuderia was very exciting. Thank you for the time @scuderiaferrari

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charlesleclerc I love you ❤️ thank you for coming 🔥

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve.

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband.

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst.

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe.

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening.

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag.

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened.

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.”

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.”

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm.

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.”

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing.

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.”

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his.

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine.

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state.

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek.

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look.

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.”

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy.

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears.

Though, confusion takes president.

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear.

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something?

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed.

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door.

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose.

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?”

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here.

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.”

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor.

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly.

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues.

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth.

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.”

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn.

But he made his bed.

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.”

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance.

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned.

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.”

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily.

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage.

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files.

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs.

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.”

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters.

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright.

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan.

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force.

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger.

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?”

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds.

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…”

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it.

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals.

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had.

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked.

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered.

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work.

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox.

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen.

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood.

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.”

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough.

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex.

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.”

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.”

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks.

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet.

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.”

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm.

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?”

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper.

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete.

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you.

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly.

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you?

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows.

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse.

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven.

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger.

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face.

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up?

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change.

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all.

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again.

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring.

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse.

Dead silence.

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—”

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear.

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen.

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass.

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens.

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest.

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.”

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony.

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you.

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.”

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained.

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him.

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed.

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired.

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate.

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot.

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.”

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.”

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.”

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?”

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once.

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.”

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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byunpum · 1 year

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I can be a better father | Part 2 | Songcord

Pair: Tsu'tey x Child y/n x Child spider

Warning: none, cute moments.

Note: Here is this second part, this request I wanted to make as part of this mini-series. I do not expect that you will like tsu'tey as the reader's father so much. And I have also received a lot of requests about many ideas, for more parts. So wait for them<3

Request: (anonymous) Tsu'tey being a dad to Spider and reader, how would he be when he realized that human children never have a songcord? And how would their songcourd be when Tsu'tey is making them?

+Language: yawntutsyip (darling) sempu(dad) sempul(father)

Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

Tsu'tey's life as a single father was on the verge of chaos, and a life of pleasure. It had been a year since he adopted his babies. He loved his new life, he had two beautiful children who loved him with all their heartsr. But integrating his children was a struggle. They were human children, in a completely na'vi clan. And even though Max had offered to raise his children in the lab, Tsu'tey refused. Tsu'tey refused, he wanted them to be real omaticaya children. From head to toe. So he decided that his children would enter the children's group of his clan. In this group, the children took lesions, and learned about survival. The children were guided by a guide, a guide who was his friend, so he felt safe to let them.

"They'll be fine, don't worry," says neytiri, touching his friend's shoulder. Neytiri had also left her children, who were Y/N's siblings. the children run to where their sister was, hugging her and laughing. Jake reached the group of adults. "Tsu'tey you have to let them be free" spoke Jake, getting a dirty look from Tsu'tey. He was nervous as hell, he thought some animal was going to eat them. It wasn't the first time the children were in the jungle, but they were going out of the safe zone. "Neteyam come here!!!" yells jake, getting the boy to hear him. Jake kneels down. "I want you to keep an eye out at all times for your sister and spider….So tsu'tey will be more calm, right?" speaks jake, neteyam nods his head. Running to her sister, taking Y/N's hand. The girl accepts without arguing at any time. "Better?" asks neytiri, both adults look at tsu'tey. Which had its ears back and tail curled around its legs. "No…I feel like I'm not breathing" speaks tsu'tey. Jake and neytiri laughed out loud, as they gave encouragement to their friend. Watching as the group of children walk away. They'll be fine…they know how to survive out there.

The children would be one night away from the clan. Tsu'tey had prepared them. They had their little bags, with oxygen refills (oxygen that Max gave them) and their siblings would be watching over them. Kiri was next to spider, and next to Y/N was neteyam who had not let go of his sister's hand at any moment. He had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. On the other hand, Y/N wanted to follow and be with lo'ak, who was ahead of her. Running and prancing. After a long hike, they took fishing and survival injuries. They decided to make camp, all the children settled in. Some were playing around, and others were in groups. As was Y/N with his siblings. Spider was lying next to his sister, while Y/N was sitting. Neteyam was next to her. In front of them were kiri and lo'ak. On the other sides were other children.

"You know…my mom added a new bead to my songcord…she said it was for an important moment" says the girl, kiri claps a little. Telling how neytiri had also added another memory. This caught Y/N's attention, giving her brother a quick glance. Spider looks at her curiously, he didn't know what they were talking about either. Both children continued to listen to what the others were saying. They were fascinated with the idea, listening as their little friends told stories and important moments of their lives. They wanted that too…but how could they have it? After a long talk, the mentor ordered everyone to sleep. Y/N lay with her brothers, resting. Morning came quickly, as soon as everyone was up. They set off on their way home.

All the children arrived safely at their homes. Tsu'tey was waiting impatiently for his little ones. Nervously at the entrance of his hut, in the distance he could see how the guide was leading his little ones. Both children, upon seeing the figure of their father, run as fast as they could. Hugging him, and talking about how their first trip went. "Hey… don't talk together, let's go inside the house and tell me everything" says tsu'tey laughing a little, seeing how both children run inside the house. Throwing everything on the floor, looking for their toys. Tsu'tey took care of verifying that his children didn't have a scratch on them. He fed him, and now he was going to dedicate himself to combing his babies' hair. Tsu'tey knew that hid children had played a lot the day before, because the spider's hair was uncombed, and y/n's long hair was tangled.

Spider was in front of them, playing as he watched his sister being combed. Y/N was on tsu'tey's lap, while his father carefully untangled her hair. He had to braid her hair, he thought this would be an easier and more comfortable hairstyle for him. There was a comfortable silence between them, not until Y/N broke the silence. "sempu" asks the little girl. "What happened my yawntutsyìp?" tsu'tey speaks as he continues to work on his daughter's hair. "What is a songcord?" asks the little girl. Spider looks up, also to watch her father's reaction. "A songcord… it is a string that every Na'vi has from the day of their birth. On it beads are placed at the most important moments of his life" tsu'tey does not take his gaze from the work. Both children listen attentively. "A song is sing, to remember the most sacred moments" tsu'tey speaks.

"Do you have yours?" asks spider, moving closer to his father. "Sure…when one comes of age. Your songcord is given to you, and it is a memory of your life" tsu'tey pauses a bit, as he watches Y/N turn away. "sempu…we have a songcord?" speaks Y/N. Tsu'tey froze, not knowing what to tell them. As far as he knew, no. "Mmmm should…why not?" tsu'tey didn't know what to say to them, both had their eyes darting around their faces, waiting for any kind of answer. "We don't have one, do we?" spider asks, tsu'tey's heart broke. The child's little eyes were dilated, and sadness could be seen. He was impressed by the connection both children had with eywa, understanding and feeling so quickly.

"I'll…I'll figure this out..ok, don't worry" tsu'tey tries to distract his children. He finishes fixing Y/N's hair, to now go with spider's turn. This was going to be a very interesting afternoon. Tsu'tey took the children to the bed, which was in a kind of capsule. In this capsule he could put the children, and they could rest without the discomfort of the oxygen mask. Norm had installed it, at Jake's request. After telling them a story, and kissing him goodbye. He decided to go in search of the materials he would use to create the songcord for his children. He didn't care that it was late, he had to have everything ready for tomorrow. By the look on his children's faces, he could tell that they were very upset that they did not have a songcord like the other children. Checking that everything in the hut was safe, he grabbed a bag. Tying it around his waist and setting off into the jungle.

Y/N te Rongloa Ateyo'itan, Born in 2154. That was the first line tsu'tey braided. Naming his new daughter, with hid surname. Placing a precious crystal green gemstone. The first time he saw his little girl, was in Jake's arms. He was holding her, and introducing the little baby to Mo'at. Neytiri was next to him with a large belly, where her other son neteyam is. For a moment I felt some disgust, it was a human baby, an alien. But all the negative thoughts she had about the baby were erased when Jake handed her the baby in his arms. She was so small, he could hold her in the palm of his hand. In that moment he knew her and he knew he would protect her all his life. He continued braiding, decorating the cord with some precious objects. Like a piece of wood from the first bow he made for y/n, as a surprise when she was three years old. Then he regretted it, because the little girl almost put her eye out. He had to laugh to himself, as the memories came flooding back.

Spider te Rongloa Ateyo'itan, Born in 2153, his eldest son, the son of the man who was part of the destruction of his clan. He placed a ratchet, which had a break in the side, as a sign of the first time he saw it. Walking in the jungle, he heard some crying. As he approached, he looked down and found a small boy, about one year old. His knee was cut, and he was crying inconsolably. He was a broken child, he had escaped from Norm. So he took care of him and from then on the little one always followed him. He continued braiding the cord, and placed a cord more colorful than the others, this represented the bracelet of bravery that he had given to spider, the first time the child followed him to the floating mountains. He was a very brave boy. Tsu'tey's chest fills with pride as he finishes the last line of both cords. He stopped working on the pieces, deciding that the last part had to be special.

The next morning after getting the two children up. He gave them their breakfast, and cleaned them up. Both children sat next to him, watching as their father put various materials in the center. And also pulling out the two ropes. The children's little faces lit up, seeing what their father was holding in his hands. "sempu….that's a songcord" speaks spider, excitedly touching the string a bit. "Yes… one for each of you. See…" tsu'tey picks up two stones. Both pieces had a red color, with white details. Tsu'tey had polished it, to make it perfect. "These two stones…they are going to represent the moment when you became my children…because you must know that you make me the happiest man in the whole clan, right?" tsu'tey pokes y/n's nose, causing the girl to giggle. "Yes…our sempul!!!" spider is so excited, now he had gotten up, to hug tsu'tey from behind while swinging around his neck. Tsu'tey carefully braided the last piece, noticing how his children watched intently. Then he carefully showed him, and explained each of the parts.

Tsu'tey began to sing a lullaby, for his children. Taking them in his arms, as both little ones snuggled into his chest. He felt so grateful for eywa…these children seemed sent by the sylwanin herself. They were the light in his eyes, the only thing that mattered to him right now. Cradling his little ones more in his arms, he sang the last phrase of the lullaby:

"Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, Tonìri tìreyä, Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe. Srrìri tìreyä, Ma Eywa, ma Eywa" tsu'tey bends a little to give a kiss on the crown of his children's heads. After so long, he felt so loved.

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starsinthesky5 · 2 months

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wanna get out of here? | joe burrow x reader

description: an impromptu getaway is exactly what you and joe needed

a/n: ahhh my second fic!! all the love on my first one gave me the motivation to go and write another one :) i hope you all like this one!

warnings: smut (hope it’s not too bad since it’s my first time writing it LOL), language

word count: 6 k

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

Wednesday

The sounds of hammering rain and thunder were all you could focus on as you were sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket trying to finish an overly complex project for work. You had been trying to finish the final section for the past week but you simply could not get rid of the restless feeling that had engulfed you over the past few days.

Joe, on the other hand, was sitting right next to you. He was staring at the TV which had on some random rerun episode of The Office. Normally, he’d be laughing along to the show no matter how many times he had seen the episode, but today he was quiet & agitated. He had been overwhelmed this past month with intense rehab for his wrist injury; on top of which he had his off-season workouts every day which had also been incredibly vigorous. He was mentally and physically burnt out and needed something to take his mind off of everything. He noticed that you also had been swamped with work which caused you to be on edge the whole week, preventing you two from having any real 1 on 1 time like you usually do, and he wasn’t having it.

You were typing away on your computer, another idea that would probably lead to nothing, before you heard the TV turn off.

You turned your head to Joe and saw his blank face. “Everything Okay?” you questioned while reaching for his hand.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked while interlocking your hands, still looking expressionless.

“Joey there is literally a monsoon happening outside right now,” you deadpanned as you squeezed his hand.

“Not out there. I mean do you wanna get out of Ohio?”.

“Who are you and what have you done with my fiancee,” you laughed.

“What?” he asked, looking quizzical as if he had no idea why you said that.

“You, the same man that never leaves his house unless it’s business or football related. And sometimes due to a forced social activity, or occasionally to have fun, wants to leave Ohio? You’re practically a turtle that stays in its shell all day,” you say before going back to your work project.

Joe is slightly taken aback by what you said. Deep down he knows you aren’t wrong, he doesn’t go out very often, which made what he said next even more necessary.

“Let’s go to the Bahamas this weekend. I can call up Ted and get a jet here and we can leave Friday morning. I’m thinking we stay at a lowkey house on a private beach for maybe 4 days,” he says.

You think he’s just messing with you but when you look over at him, he looks serious.

“Where is this coming from?” you say with worry in your voice. In the 5 years, you and Joe have been together, he’d never sprung an idea of a vacation on you by himself, it was always mutual. And you’d never left the States before either. You close your computer and turn to face him.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” he says with a sigh. “These past few weeks have been really intense and I just need a break.”

Your face drops as he continues. He’d been under so much pressure lately with OTA’s slowly approaching and training amping up; plus all the background noise. He’d start throwing in the next month or so and deep down he was nervous. He didn’t know how it was going to go and if all this rehab was even worth it if he was never going to be able to get back to where he was.

“And you’ve been stressed out all week because of work and it feels like we haven’t had just ‘us’ time,” he adds.

Joe was right. He’d be gone all day with either rehab or workouts and the only time you two would get together would be dinner. And by dinner, you’d be too exhausted to do anything but eat and rush off to bed.

You spend a few moments contemplating his offer. It would be nice to get away for a few days and you both needed the change of environment badly.

“Okay, let’s do it," you say with a smile as you pull him in for a hug.

“But just so you know, since we’d be leaving in 2 days, I’m going to be an absolute nightmare when it comes to packing,” you say before planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, I'm well aware. You only get 2 days to stress about packing and not a whole week like usual,” he laughs.

Thursday Evening

You both spent the majority of the day planning your impromptu vacation. You found the perfect beach house on the other side of Nassau, away from the main part of the island. It was hidden by palm trees and had a private beach which made it easy to unwind without any prying eyes. You would spend the week there and pick out a few activities nearby to occupy your time. You also chose a few places to eat although you both decided to cook at home for the majority of your stay.

Currently, you were sitting on your closet floor attempting to pack your suitcase but were majorly failing. Packing was never your strong suit, especially if you had to pack the day before a trip. The closet looked like a war zone, things were everywhere.

“This is the wrong time to not be able to find anything,” you say to yourself while getting up once again to hunt for missing items.

Joe walked into the closet and saw you frantically pacing back and forth looking for something.

“Babe, are you Okay?” He asked while sitting down on the stool.

“Have you seen my new white bikini? Or my sunglasses? Or my tank tops?” You asked, aggravated that you couldn’t find your stuff.

“I literally cannot find anything,” You added before giving Joe a look. He knew that look all too well, you were 1 misplaced item away from having a full breakdown.

He got up from the stool and walked over to where you were, put his hands on your shoulders, and said “Y/N you could wear a potato sack and still look amazing. Stop stressing about it, this vacation is supposed to get rid of the stress. Not add onto it,”

You let out a deep breath and say “You’re right. It’s just us anyway. I’ll just pack some nice dresses and stuff whatever in the suitcase,”

“The fewer clothes the better,” Joe smirks and says before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips.

“You’re insatiable,” you say against his lips.

After you finish packing your suitcase, you get ready for bed since you have a fairly early flight. It took Joe about 15 minutes to pack his things, which came as no surprise since he is the biggest outfit repeater you know. You’re just about ready to doze off before you feel Joe’s hand creep up your leg and squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm Joe not right now,” you say half asleeply. “Go to bed,”

“Not that,” he states. “I can’t fall asleep,” he mumbles.

You let out a sigh before turning to face him. No way you’re getting any sleep now. “What’s wrong,” you say as you move his messy curls out of his eyes.

“I don’t know, I just can’t fall asleep,” he says.

You knew Joe too well to know when something was bothering him. His confession earlier was only the tip of the iceberg. Something was bugging him and you needed him to talk to you.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours,” you say as you play with his curls.

He stayed silent for a few heartbeats, not knowing if he should unload his heavy thoughts on you right before a vacation. But he knew that it was just you. You’d always listen to whatever he had to say, no matter the time or place.

“Just everything.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Rehab has been going great and training has been too, and I should be happy about that but I just can’t get rid of that feeling,”

“What feeling?” You question.

“Feeling like I won’t be good enough. I know what people are saying; overpaid, overrated, no rings, injury-prone. And they aren’t wrong. I don’t have anything to back up why people think I’m a top 3 quarterback,”

Your heart breaks as he continues to talk. The fact that Joe feels like he isn’t good enough is mind-boggling to you. He’s one of the best damn players you’ve ever seen and you wish you could do something to get rid of his doubts, but you knew that that was something he had to do on his own.

“But you do have things to back it up. You had one of the greatest college football seasons ever. Winning the Natty and the Heisman was only the start of your legacy. You were drafted by an organization that was in desperate need of saving and you made an impact that not many could have done,” you say as you see a small smile on his face.

“You had a shitty rookie season with tearing basically everything in your knee, but you worked hard and came back better than ever fucking before. You went on and led the team to their first playoff win in 30 years and went to the fucking Super Bowl in your first full season,” you add.

“Yeah, you didn’t win. But you put the entire league on notice and showed them who the hell you are. And then you did it again next year even though you didn’t go all the way. This past year was rough and didn’t go the way anyone would have expected, but this is part of what makes you, you.” you say with a smile as he stares deeply into your eyes.

“You thrive when there’s adversity. It makes you work harder for what you want and it always pays off one way or another. You always come out better and stronger. You are a great quarterback and are absolutely more than good enough. You’re going to have your moment soon, and I know it,” you conclude.

Joe stares into your eyes for a few more heartbeats. You knew exactly what to say to bring him back down from whatever cloud he was stuck on and he was so thankful for you.

“I love you,” he said as he pulled you onto his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you more, always,” you laugh as he kisses the hell out of you.

You two spent the rest of the night in each other's embrace. You finally felt at peace once you heard Joe’s soft snores fill the room and finally got some sleep.

Friday

You both got up pretty early for your flight, taking a quick shower before packing the car and heading to the airport. After boarding the plane you both took off your shoes, pulled out your fav blanket, and got comfy.

“Are you excited?” Joe beams.

“Excited is an understatement, Burrow,” you smirk. “Getting you out of Ohio might be my favorite part,”.

“I’m so looking forward to getting some sun and swimming in that big pool,” he says, referring to the massive pool that’s a part of the house you rented.

“It’s like you’re a whole new person,” you smile while leaning your head on his shoulder. He smiles and kisses your forehead before pulling out his laptop to turn on a movie.

“Oooo what are we gonna watch?” you excitedly question.

“I was thinking of either ‘Grown-Ups’ or ‘21 Jump Street’,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s do Jump Street, it’s been a while since we watched that,” you say.

You spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing a few card games, and eventually taking a small nap before the plane landed.

A few hours later

After the plane landed, you both drove to your house for the week and it was like something out of a fairytale. The house overlooked the beach and the crystal blue water. Lush green palm trees surrounding the house provided ample privacy, especially for the large open pool in the backyard. You two settled into the house before changing into your swimsuits for a nice afternoon dip in the pool. You did end up finding your new white bikini, which was perfect for the occasion.

Joe walked out of the bathroom and saw you brushing your hair in the mirror. His eyes trailed down to your bare legs, up to your perfect ass, then to your toned stomach, and straight to your chest. You looked so sexy and he was in heaven. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind, his warmth causing you to melt into his arms.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, “Like what you see, Burrow?” you teased.

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he swayed you two back and forth, pressing a kiss on the back of your shoulder while sliding his hand down to your ass. Joe was grinning like a love-struck fool as he watched you close your eyes and melt into his embrace. He was making you feel more relaxed than you’d ever been before and you both were loving it.

You both ventured out to the pool and sat down on the pool chairs, hoping to get a quick tanning sesh in before a swim. A few minutes in, Joe found himself staring at the pool when he got an idea.

“I’m gonna jump into the pool,” he casually said.

You quickly turned your head to him and said, “Are you crazy, the water will get everywhere,” You gasped.

“It’s just us though, nobody around to complain. Besides, I can’t do it in the pool at home since we spent way too much money on redoing the backyard. At least here there isn’t any vegetable garden at risk of being destroyed,” he smirked before quickly running back to the patio door and launching himself into the pool, not giving you a moment to lecture him.

The water did in fact get everywhere but it was worth it when you saw Joe come up from the water. He shook his head back and forth to get the water out of his hair before he took his hand and attempted to slick it back. Your eyes navigated to his muscular chest which had stray water droplets sliding down his abdomen, back into the water. God, he looked so hot like this.

“Like what you see, Burrow,” he teased as he noticed your expression.

“Yes, in fact I do. Very much actually,” you say while getting off the chair. “And I’m not a ‘Burrow’ yet, still gotta wait a few months before that,” you say as you make your way into the pool.

“Well, you’re practically already my wifey sooo,” he trails off before swimming over to the steps and helping you into the pool.

You giggle at his words. He couldn’t wait to marry you and he never failed to make it known.

You immediately latch onto him when you're in the pool. This was pretty normal for you both. You’d always use him as a floatie and make him do all the work while you just lay on him and relaxed.

A few moments later you release yourself from his embrace, making him slightly confused at the sudden loss of contact.

“Y/N come back,” he whines out.

“Someone’s clingy today,” you say while playfully rolling your eyes and swimming away from him.

He stared at you for a few moments, a sad look on his face while you continued to swim around and away from him. You felt bad that you’d left him hanging but you were having too much fun teasing him.

“Come and catch me shiesty,” you yelled. He hated it when you called him that. That nickname was only for football-related individuals to use and he thought it was a little cringe whenever you would use it. Not in a bad way, it’s just he preferred you calling him other names that football-related people can’t use. You knew how he felt about it but you also knew that this would for sure set him off.

“Oh you’re done for,” he playfully growled before swimming after you. The pool was massive so you had just enough space to get away from him.

You two were swimming circles around each other, occasionally splashing water into each other's faces in hopes of catching each other off guard. Your arms began to get tired of swimming around so you stopped by the ledge to take a breather while Joe was settled on the other side of the pool.

Before you knew it, Joe had swum over to you and pulled you back into his arms.

“Got you,” you whispered against your ear.

“I guess you did,” you whispered back.

“You look absolutely gorgeous by the way,” he said looking down into your eyes. “I love this bikini on you,”

You blushed at his sweet comments. He never failed to tell you how pretty you looked.

“Ya know, I look even better with it off,” you tease.

Joe’s face dropped immediately when you said that. He’d been horny since he saw you in that bikini but had to compose himself since you both were looking forward to swimming in the pool. But now that you’d gotten your swim time in, nothing was stopping him.

He slowly pressed you against the wall of the pool and kissed his way up your neck right up to your sweet spot.

“Joe,” you moaned out.

“What baby?” He asked, knowing exactly what you wanted.

“I need you,” you whined.

He looked at you momentarily before lifting you out of the pool and rushing you inside to the large bedroom. You let out a squeal as he pushed you back onto the bed. Joe climbed over you and situated his body in between your thighs, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You stayed kissing each other for a few minutes before you felt something hard poke at your stomach.

“Getting eager now aren’t we,” you tease.

“Please, I’ve been waiting to get you in this bed since I saw you in this bikini,” he grinned.

“Then I suggest you do something about it,” you replied.

Joe smiled and started to untie the strands of your bikini top before tossing it to the side. He kissed his way down to your perfect breasts, swirling his lips around your sensitive bud which caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Joe,” you moaned out while shoving your hands in his hair.

He spent a few moments sucking on your breasts before he continued his way down. He pressed a few sloppy kisses on your stomach before eventually making his way down to where you needed him the most. He slowly peeled off your bottoms which was driving you insane.

“Joe please,” you whined out.

“Patience is key, baby,” he teased.

He threw your bottoms to the side as he made his way back up to your heat. “You’re so wet,” he says while ghosting his fingers over your folds.

“Joe I swear to god-,” You suddenly felt his warm tongue lapping at your folds which caused you to let out another moan, “Ohh Fuck”.

He buried his warm tongue inside your core as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. He moved one of his hands up to cup your breast as the other was firmly on your thigh. Joe moved up and started to rhythmically suck on your clit which made you see stars; something which he made you see often. “Joey, fuck don’t stop,” you said breathlessly.

“You like that?” he chuckled against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. Those 3 words always managed to get you more horny than you already were. "Yeah," you whispered.

He went back to lapping at your folds as he used his thumb to rub your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers was sending you over the edge. You started to arch your back which caused you to lift your hips slightly but Joe pushed them back down as he continued to send you into a frenzy. You fisted your hands into his hair and started to pull on the loose curls which caused Joe to let out a soft moan against you.

“Joe I’m so close,” you whispered as you pushed his head closer to your core. You felt a familiar warmth in your belly as you were moaning Joe’s name out (which was driving him insane). Joe thrusted one of his fingers into you, causing the imaginary rubber band in your lower belly to snap; feeling a familiar gush of liquid pool below you. You were overcome with a feeling of pure pleasure and satisfaction as he cleaned up your mess with his skillful mouth. He pressed delicate kisses on the insides of your thighs before moving back up and pushing his lips against yours again.

“You’re so hot,” he said in between kisses.

You felt a blush creep up on your face. “I’m flattered Mr. Burrow, but have you seen yourself”.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before going back to kissing you. You stopped kissing him after a few moments and said “Joe, I need you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command babe,” he replied as he pulled down his swim trunks and threw them to the side. His cock was rock hard and the sight of it had you sizzling with anticipation.

Your core was slick with your arousal which made it easy for him to push his dick into you. The tip slowly teasing your folds before he buries himself inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan. You will never get tired of the feeling of him inside you.

He started slowly thrusting into you which made you wrap your legs around him, wanting him deeper asap.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned out. “Faster baby,”.

He began snapping his hips against you, faster & harder than before. “God, you feel so good Y/N,” he moaned out. You brought him in for another kiss, this time quick, messy, and sloppy. He continued thrusting into you and you bucked your hips each time to match his movements. The sound of your arousal and skin-hitting skin filled the room as you two were caught up in the euphoria that was happening between you.

Joe buried his face into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, as your hands found themselves in his hair again. You were on Cloud 9 right now and it was all because of him.

“Joe, don’t stop. Shit, you feel too good,” you moaned. You felt him move deeper inside of you as he repeatedly hit your cervix.

He continued to pound into you, making you feel like nothing else mattered but this moment. You both felt your arousal building up, begging to be released.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m close,” he panted as he slowed down.

“Me too,” you whimpered.

He picked up the pace of his thrusts once again, this time moving one of his hands down to your heat, toying with your clit. “Fuck,” you moaned out for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered. You felt your walls clench around him, signaling you were almost there. Joe felt you clench around him and pinched your clit which set off your orgasm. Your chest heaved up and down as you whimpered out his name while seeing stars again. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his pleasure.

“Y/N,” Joe moaned out. You knew he was close by the way his thrusts started to become sporadic.

“Come on baby,” you encouraged while pulling at his hair and kissing his neck.

After a few rough thrusts, Joe let out a loud moan as you felt hot spurts of his cum fill you up. He collapsed on top of you as you both panted, needing a moment to recover after the workout you two just had. You moved one of your hands to his back, softly sliding it up and down to help him relax.

“I love you,” he softly said as he kissed your cheek, making you smile.

“I love you more,” you whisper in his ear as he buries his face into your neck again.

The next day

The next morning was pretty chill for you both. You had breakfast at the local beachside cafe, stuffing your faces with delicious fresh fruit from the island before embarking on a pleasant morning walk on the beach.

“This is nice,” Joe says as you both walk hand in hand alongside the water, a content look on his face.

You look up at him and smile, “Very nice,” you giggle. “Although, I don’t know how you’re not uncomfortable with walking on the beach in shoes,” you question while looking at your bare feet and then his shoes.

“You never know when a crab might come up and pinch your toes,” he says with a straight face.

“Righhhht,” you say while relishing the feeling of sand between your toes.

“So, what should we do today? We pretty much have the whole day since we’re cooking at home tonight,” he says while squeezing your hand.

“Hmmm,” you wonder for a second. “We could go out on one of the boats?” you carefully question while looking up at your fiancee.

Joe did not like going on boats. He hated the idea of being out on the open water with no way of getting back to shore other than using the boat. He always questioned what you would do if the boat broke down or even started sinking. You always told him the sinking part was highly unlikely, but you blamed yourself for that worry because you’ve made him watch Titanic with you one too many times. He also didn’t like how you couldn’t see what was in the water. But lucky for you, the water in the Bahamas was crystal clear.

He stayed silent for a few moments, making you a little sad since you wanted to experience something new with him.

“Let’s do it,” he says while flashing you a smile.

You looked up at him, a little surprised. “Really?” you beam.

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind,” he says before stopping to pick you up. He doesn’t give you a moment to respond because he throws you over his shoulders causing you to let out a squeal. He leads you both back to the house so you can get freshened up.

You both got changed into your swimsuits before walking over to the docks and renting a boat for the day. You weren’t sure how you managed to get Joe to go on the boat, but you certainly were not complaining.

The driver had taken the boat not too far from shore, which kept Joe’s mind at ease. You swam in the water for a little bit and enjoyed a few drinks.

“Mmm, this like the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had,” you say while taking another sip. Joe was currently in the water in front of you, while you were seated on the steps of the boat, legs partially in the water.

“Come in the water,” Joe says while splashing some water onto you.

“Mmm, I think I’m good up here,” you tease while placing your drink to the side.

Joe swam closer to you and said “Nope.”

You were confused at what he meant but then you felt his wet hand wrap around your wrist.

“Joe, don’t even think about it,” you playfully growled, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t listen and pulled you into the water, causing a big splash. You came back up to the surface with a frown.

“Someone’s mad,” Joe laughs. You swim over to him while he is fully anticipating an ass-kicking but is pleasantly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

You laugh and say, “If this is mad, let me be mad more often,”.

A few hours pass and you both are sitting on the boat in the net seating area that was right above the water. Joe had put on one of his many bucket hats and shades and was laid flat against the net, soaking in the golden sun. You were applying another layer of sunscreen before noticing his chest turning red. You knew he’d be a pain in the ass if he got sunburnt so you took the bottle and moved closer to him.

You squeezed out a dab of sunscreen and started applying it to his chest. He flinched at the sudden contact before realizing it was just you.

You felt him flinch and laughed, “Daydreaming, Burrow?”.

“Maybe,” he smiles while taking off his shades. He looks down and sees you applying sunscreen on him, “Oh, thanks,” he says while meeting your eyes.

You let out a playful sigh and say, “What would you do without me,”.

“For real,” he says. “I’d be walking around like a tomato,” he laughs.

After applying the rest of the sunscreen, you lay back against the net and Joe lifts one of his arms, motioning for you to curl up next to him. He rests his hand on the small of your back while you tangle your legs with his.

You lay there briefly, soaking up the perfect scene before breaking the silence. “Are you enjoying this? I know boats aren’t really your thing and I hope I didn’t force you into this,” you softly say.

“Of course, I’m enjoying this. I will admit, I was a little nervy when getting on but you’re here with me so I’m fine. Besides, If the boat breaks down at least we’d be stranded together,” he jokes.

“I guess that’s true. Better than being stranded with a bunch of randos too. I’m glad we could get a boat just for the two of us,” you reply.

“Yup. This isn’t as bad as I thought. I can see everything below us too so no risk of a random shark popping out,” he deadpans.

“Like that would actually happen,” you say while softly hitting his chest.

“You never know,” he says while shaking your shoulder in an attempt to scare you.

You spent a few minutes messing around with each other before the driver came out to tell you that you were heading back to the island. You both got up and sat on the bench, your back pressed into Joe’s chest and stared out into the open waters, taking in the view before it was time to go back. You were mindlessly sliding your hand along Joe’s leg while he had his arms around your waist, gently squeezing your soft skin. Everything about this moment was peaceful. Joe felt at ease for the first time in a long time and he had his favorite person to thank for it.

Once you got back to the house, you both took a nice shared shower before starting your dinner prep. Before arriving at the house yesterday, you had stopped at the local market to pick up some groceries.

“So, what are we making tonight,” Joe asked as he sat down on one of the barstools.

“I was thinking of shrimp-avocado tostadas and some of that wine we picked up yesterday?”

“Sounds delicious,” he said while rubbing his belly.

You let Joe fry the tortillas and make the avocado mixture while you cooked the shrimp and assembled the tostadas. While you were assembling the dish, Joe found a few candles in the cabinet and got an idea. He went outside to the backyard and set up the candles on one of the patio tables, setting the scene for a nice sunset dinner. He picked out a few flowers from the front of the house and put them in a vase to use as a centerpiece. He then poured the wine into 2 glasses, setting one on each side.

You had finished plating the tostadas and didn’t see Joe anywhere. “Joe? Where are you,” you yelled out.

“Out here! Bring the plates outside,” he yelled back.

You were a little confused but went along with it. You walked outside with your dinner and saw Joe setting the table and your heart melted.

“Joe, this is so romantic,” you cooed while putting the plates on the table.

He gave you a warm smile before pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit in. You sat down as he settled into the chair across from you. You both devoured the tostadas while making small talk about your plans for tomorrow. After you finished eating, Joe took the plates and set them inside; he suggested you both finish up your wine on the daybed since you would get a comfier view of the sky.

Later that night, per your suggestion, you and Joe were sitting in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles and a few candles. You felt so relaxed even though you’d only been here for 2 days, and it was all because of Joe.

“I’m glad we finally get to have ‘us’ time,” Joe says while rubbing your thigh under the water. “I missed just being able to sit with you and do nothing. This past month felt so repetitive, I feel like we barely saw each other,”

“Me too. We needed this,” you said as you pressed yourself into his chest a little more. Your back was to his chest and both your legs were tangled under the water. This was your favorite position; the warmth radiating off of his body felt like a big hug.

“Thank you for doing this by the way,” you add.

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“This trip. I needed it more than I thought I did. Getting away from home and the change of environment was much needed. I think if I stayed in Ohio for another day I might have spontaneously exploded,” you joked, causing him to let out a soft chuckle.

“Anytime,” he replied while kissing the nape of your neck.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. “I hope you were able to get your mind off of things. Your stuff was a lot heavier than mine,”

He lets out a content sigh and says, “Actually, yeah I do feel better. I think I just needed to get out of the chaos and get out of my head. This trip has helped me decompress and realize that not everything has to be so stuffy all the time,” Joe says.

“Exactly,” you chirp as you lean your head back to place a kiss on his neck.

“I can’t do anything about what people are saying, they’ll always talk. But what I can do is work hard to get back to where I’m supposed to be. And I won’t be able to get there if I’m constantly pressuring myself,” he says. “Letting loose and having fun is a part of that journey. I need that balance,” he adds.

“And this is a great start,” you say while smiling up at Joe

“Yes it is,” Joe says while pressing another kiss to your forehead.

You both had spent the rest of the night talking about the rest of your exciting activities planned for the final 2 days of the trip. You even talked about a few fun things you could do around Cincinnati when you get back home so that you could keep the work-life balance that you both so desperately needed.

“This impromptu vacation might have been the best idea you’ve had so far,” you tell Joe as you both are about to fall asleep.

“We should get away more often,” Joe grins.

--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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