#<- he would say this. he would sooooo say this. i feel sick
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hmmmmmmmmmmmm what if. cult leader geto + a dollâs house âŠâŠâŠâŠ.
specifically. yan!geto i guess. bc he wouldnât be this twisted otherwise . itâs a tasty concept i think :3
#thinking thoughts#many of them in fact#hmmmmmmmmmm yan content squicks me out a lot honestly but .#âŠâŠâŠ#the . the twisted caretaker type. is so Him. đ#âmy bewildered helpless darling⊠donât worry about anything.â#<- he would say this. he would sooooo say this. i feel sick#this play is great btw!!!! ibsen my belovedâŠ..#ari noises â©#cw yandere
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Nyctophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness
Ch.1
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)
Word count: 9.2k
A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go
How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldnât recall. It felt like it had been forever since olâ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didnât think heâd send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didnât think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.
But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.
Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadnât aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs youâd ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.
You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. âHey Kitty,â you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.
âIâm so happy to see you itâs been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought youâd died and Charles wasnât telling us, Logan didnât think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought youâd just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!â She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.
âWell, I can tell you that Iâm not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. Andâ wait whoâs Logan?â Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?
âOh, right yeah. A new teacher,â Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. âHe uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor⊠sorry.â She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldnât be more grateful. You always thought you werenât ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.Â
âIâm hurt, a girlâs gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?â you cracked a smile, Kittyâs face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought youâd be upset? You were touched. âAnyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped atââ You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.
âWelcome back!â you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.Â
âChrist! Youâve all just knocked five years off my life!â you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.
âTheyâve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, theyâve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,â You didnât need to see Scottâs eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.
âYeah well⊠they can be really persuasive.â She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.Â
âItâs good to see you,â Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment youâd had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.
You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.
âHey you,â you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.Â
âHey.â
âHow longâve you been here? I didnât actually think youâd listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought youâd just shrug it off and continue your own path,â you were relieved to see she had listened to what youâd said two years ago. Youâd urged her down this path, to find the school. Youâd already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.
âUh⊠about thatâŠâ youâd only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.Â
But Storm wasnât looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.
âLogan!â
Ah, you guess that made sense now.
Whoever youâd expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.Â
Now you understood why he taught combat and PE⊠he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldnât say it didnât suit him. He was very⊠rugged lumberjack looking.
You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You donât think youâd ever seen a grumpier-looking man.Â
âLogan, this is Phantom,â your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.Â
âAh, so you do exist,â his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.
âHeard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,â you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.
âCan ya blame me?â He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.Â
âGuess not. Youâre also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?â You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldnât help grinning slightly.Â
âLanguage!â Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess youâd forgotten how to behave around the kids too.
Logan held his hands up in surrender. âIn my defense, I didnât think you existed,â though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldnât keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.
âIâm kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.â You shrugged. âBesides, Iâmââ
âSheâs being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!â Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didnât know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.Â
âSo Iâve heard,â Loganâs eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.
âThough, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didnât exist and all.â You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.Â
You hadnât realised how completely caught up in the introduction youâd been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.Â
âAnyway,â you continued pointedly, âyou were saying? So you didnât come to find this place?â your head tilted again slightly in confusion. âHow did you end up here?â
Rogue looked from you to Logan, whoâs eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. âNope, still confused. How didâŠ?âÂ
âWell, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,â she explained quietly.
âMore you found me but sure.â He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. Youâd heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charlesâ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if youâd returned.Â
âSo, you brought her here?â You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how heâd succeeded where youâd failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.Â
âMe? Nah, didnât know this place existed at that point.â
âSeems to be a common theme with you,â you couldnât help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.
âNever gonna live that down, am I?â
âNot whilst Iâm still breathing,â you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. âSo howâd you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didnât know about this?âÂ
âTall, dark, andâ what?â He asked, bewildered.
Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. âThat would be us. Weâd been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.âÂ
You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.
âI see. Glad it wasnât my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isnât much better. Howâs your mutation coming along?â you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.
âStill hard to control, but Iâm getting better at it!â She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When youâd met her two years ago, you didnât know if she even wanted help. Sheâd been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didnât think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.
âIâm glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,â you gestured to the room around, to the friends sheâd made, to the haven sheâd found.
âOh, my nameâs Marie. Guess I didnât tell you before.â She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.Â
âMarie it is.â Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending⊠fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. âOh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldnât mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.â Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didnât smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!
âUhâŠâ Storm started.
âAbout thatâŠâ Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.
âYour bedâs real comfy, bubâ he smirked, and you gaped.
âYouâre fucking kidding me?â
âLanguage!â both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.
âFuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!â you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. âIâm not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? Thatâs shocking behaviour from the both of you!â You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.
âDonât blame those twoâ Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. âwe didnât have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, butââ
âThe view was too nice to pass up on,â Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you werenât so heartless that youâd take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.
âYeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?â you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.
âYouâre in the one above, still got the same view, donât worry,â she elbowed you slightly. That wasnât so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.
âGood enough, Iâm still mad about it though.â Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.
Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. âWhatâs got you so giddy?â you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.Â
âOh nothing, just glad you're home. Itâs been kinda boring without you.â You laughed at that. With everything thatâs been going on, you didnât think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.Â
Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didnât want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.
âI got it,â Loganâs voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadnât realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.
For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.Â
âSuper strength?â Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.Â
âNah, not quite.â
âThen how the fuââ you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. ââuuun. How fun.â you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldnât deny he was good-looking. Youâd be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldnât mind uncovering.Â
Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.
âAh, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.â
You snorted a laugh. âNo, you didnât. You absolutely knew it was my return.â You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.
âAs quick as ever. And I see youâve met our Wolverine.â Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.Â
âWolverine? Seriously?â you asked, laughing at his shrug. âCanât think whyâŠâ your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.Â
âI thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.â You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.
âCâmon! Youâre gonna love it!âYou were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.
Logan had to admit, he didnât mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasnât the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasnât the kind of guy to stare at a womanâs ass, he wasnât mad that he was behind you.Â
Everything heâd been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything heâd seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour⊠it was all right there in front of him.Â
Literally.
Heâd lost count of how many times heâd had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? Heâd only known you for half an hour and heâd displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.Â
He was in huge trouble.Â
The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadnât exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, heâd only known you for thirty minutes.
He had to remind himself of that.Â
âHere we are!â Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what youâd find behind the wood. Heâd helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, thatâs what he told himself.Â
You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.Â
If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt heâd felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.
âYou⊠Kitty, you didnât need to do this,â You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant youâd nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.Â
âIt wasnât just me! I employed help,â Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. âAnd others offered to help.â
Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.Â
âYou helped?â you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.
âHere anâ thereâŠâ he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.Â
âHere and there? Thatâs such a lie! Heâd heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!â Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didnât even know you, and he did this for you.Â
âKitty, thatâs enâoof!â Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how heâd imagine it. Not that he had imagined itâŠ
âThank you,â you whispered earnestly, and any guard heâd put up previously melted away. He didnât exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. âMaybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,â your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.Â
âAnythinâ else?â He asked, mirroring your expression.
âNot yet, but Iâm sure Iâll think of something,â was it Loganâs sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?
Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didnât care, and somehow, you didnât think he did either.Â
Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didnât look like you regretted anything.Â
âI really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is⊠well itâs better than what I was imagining,â you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. Theyâd really outdone themselves. Heâd really outdone himself. And you couldnât help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. âWhatâs your mutation, by the way? You never said,â you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.
Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.Â
You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. âI seeâŠâ was all you said, before it hit you. âWolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!â You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.Â
âWhaddya mean it made sense before?âÂ
âDonât think too much into it,â you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.Â
âYeah, alright Phantom.â He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. Heâd been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldnât say he wasnât impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.Â
âGet it now?â
Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.Â
You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.Â
Loganâs lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. âGot it,â the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. âKitty, we shouldâ the fuck?âÂ
You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. âGuess she left,â you shrugged. âOr she never existed.â That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since youâd felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.Â
âIâll leave you to it,â he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man youâd just met.Â
He had to remember this was a woman heâd just met.
âYeah, thanks. Iâll uh, see you later?â You didnât mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk youâd seen countless times already.
âSure.â He said, before closing the door.Â
You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. âWhat the fuck?âÂ
Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. âWhat. The. Fuck?â
Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo youâd missed so dearly on your travels, youâd changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavierâs office where heâd just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadnât listened to half of it.Â
âSo, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kittyâs, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.â He finished his explanation slowly, and you didnât have the heart to tell him you had no idea what heâd just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didnât have to.
Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. âYouâve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?â He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.
âYeah, itâs like Iâm holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,â you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. âSo, Iâm not like Kitty?â you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.Â
âIâm afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.â Youâd almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.Â
âI think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.â You nodded. You actually did understand, because thatâs how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.
âMy dear, thatâs why we brought you back. Weâve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. Itâs led us to believe that your abilities donât stop at shadow walking.â He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. Heâd mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.Â
âShadow manipulation, right?â You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew thatâs where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.Â
âEssentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heartâs content. In⊠theory.â She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.
âBut in practice?â
âIn practice⊠honestly we donât know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.â You nodded a little numbly. Youâd only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.Â
Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. âWell, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. Youâve had a long day and perhaps right now isnât the best time to be entertaining new ideas.â He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.
You couldnât agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since youâd become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It⊠scared you. And you didnât scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.
âRight. Thanks, Professor. Iâll uh, see you tomorrow then.â You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.Â
Fuckâs sake.Â
Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You werenât the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.Â
You didnât turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, sheâd had custom-made for the print on the side to say âPhasers Forever!â. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug youâd gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. Youâd made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.Â
Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.
Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.Â
âPhantom.â He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.
âWolvie.â You smiled back, though you could feel it didnât reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.
âYou alright?â Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didnât like seeing you despondent.Â
âYeah, fine.â It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liarâs smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.Â
He really didnât like you lying to him.
âUh huh?â Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didnât even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.
âIâm just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? Iâm starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,â You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasnât exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.Â
Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didnât have to see his suspicion. If you werenât ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldnât push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. âHow was your meeting with Charles?â
Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.
âYeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.â Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you werenât always paying attention to what was going on around you.
For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising heâd given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.
âSâthat why you look like your pet just died?â You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didnât know him, and he didnât know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.
âLook, Logan. I appreciate it, and what youâre trying to do, but at the same time, I donât know you. And you donât know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. Iâm tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?â
Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasnât expecting you to be so sharp. He didnât know why he wasnât expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. âThat mightâve been the nicest fuck off Iâve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.â He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didnât know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.Â
âI didnât meanââ You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.Â
It had been roughly half an hour since heâd left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didnât know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasnât like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuckâs sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didnât think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing heâd handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!
Heâd just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasnât any kind of fist knockingâŠÂ
With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didnât dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.Â
âBefore you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know itâs good.â You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?
Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. âPeace pesto pasta?â
You nodded. âHomemade, donât forget.â Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. âAnd also beer so you physically canât turn me down.â You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldnât be further from the truth.Â
âHomemade peace pesto, beer, andâŠ?âÂ
You stuck your tongue in your cheek. âAn apology.â You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. âCan I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These arenât the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress soâŠâ you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.
âYou were a waitress?â
âYes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they wonât fall on your feet,â you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasnât as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.Â
With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.
âIt wasnât that bad, just uncomfortable,â you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what heâd just seen, giving you a look of âfair enoughâ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though youâd done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.Â
âIâm sorryâŠâ you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. âThe Professor told me something in the meeting and⊠rattled me, thatâs all,â you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.Â
Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.Â
âHow did you not just break your jaw?â you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.Â
âNot much can break it, considering my skeletonâs adamantium.â Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.Â
âWait, how don't youâ ohhhhhâŠâ It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. âAny other secrets you're hiding?â You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.
âYou wanna talk about keeping secrets now?â He asked curtly.
âWalked into that oneâŠâ
âYeah, you kinda did.âÂ
You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.Â
âYou know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?â You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta youâd made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. âSo, turns out, itâs nothing like Kittyâs. Itâs not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.â You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. âKitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, itâs not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,â you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. âItâs like, Iâm holding water in my bare hands,â you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. âAnd this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,â your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. âHow Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but itâs a constant strain⊠Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just⊠I donât know. It scared me I guess.â
The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. âI uh, donât really understand whatâs scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?â he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.
You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. âWell apparently weâve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but⊠I donât know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk orââ
âWould you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,â Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.Â
âExactly.â You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didnât know what to do, and you didnât know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who youâd only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. âAnyway, yeah, thatâs why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,â You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.
Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.
Youâd come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didnât want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever âIâm so sorry this is happening speechâ he was clearly getting ready to spill.Â
But for the umpteenth time in the short while youâd known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. âTo the inevitableâ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.
âIt wonât come to that,â youâd forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Loganâs willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. âLook, I was pretty fuckinâ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savinâ, but look at us now,â in complete honesty, Logan still didnât think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. âHeâll help ya. Youâll get this under control. And it ainât all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,â You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.Â
Logan was right. That was a good thing.
âWell, weâll see tomorrow. Thatâs when we really start everything. We have another meeting before weâre straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?â You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.Â
Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time heâd felt like this toward anyone? He hadnât wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didnât even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.Â
âI uh⊠ya know I wanted to apologise too.â
Well, that caught you off guard. âWhâ wait what? Why? What for?â you couldnât help firing off questions at speeds you didnât know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.Â
âYou were right. I donât know you. And you donât know me.â Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.Â
âYeahâŠ. I did say that didnât I? Iââ
âBut,â he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. âThat doesnât mean I donât wanna know yaâŠâ Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you werenât telling him to fuck off, that is.
âIâ Uh, okay, sure⊠what dâya wanna know?â you asked, hoping to fuck you didnât sound ridiculous. If you didnât, Logan didnât seem to mind or care.Â
âYou can start of by tellinâ me how or where you learned to cook so well,â you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. âNah Iâm serious kid, that was fuckinâ great,â Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.
âKid? Do you know how old I am?â you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way youâd show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?Â
âDo you know how old I am?â he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.
âIâd put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?â you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course⊠just for⊠science.
Yeah. For science.
Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. âNot quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.â Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. âTake a picture bubs, itâll last longer.â
âB-but⊠howâ? Yâ? Hundred andâ what the fuck?â You couldnât get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. âWhy you donât look a day over ninety. Youâre in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently⊠probably looking for their exhibit back,â you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.Â
âYa done?â
âIâll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?â You asked, and Logan couldnât detect anything other than genuine curiosity.
âRegenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but itâs around hundred and thirty,â he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. âSo?â he prompted, and you looked up.
âSo what?â
âHowâdya make the pasta?âÂ
You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a bĂ©chamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you werenât so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didnât have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day youâd had, or if that was just who you were, he didnât know. But honestly? He didnât really care.Â
As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.Â
âAnyway, thatâs how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.â Youâd somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.
It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.
âI should probablyââ
âLook, you shouldââ
You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldnât find it in you to care.Â
You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldnât blame the man. Youâd been talking for hours.Â
Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.
âThank you. For letting me talk for hours. You donât need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.â You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
âYeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?â He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasnât about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasnât about to admit he wasnât pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way heâd stopped them from doing all evening. âIâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â
You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, youâd noticed. That was almost exactly what youâd said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.Â
âSure.â Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, youâd run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.
But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after youâd disappeared.
Yeah⊠he was definitely in trouble.
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#x men x reader#x men logan#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#the wolverine x reader#logan smut#logan x reader smut#x men wolverine#essa's works
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lando norris x actresses!gamer!fem!reader
fc: maitreyi ramakrishnan
warnings: cussing
authors note: i like this one! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!
f1 masterlist
lando.jpg
liked by charleslec.jpg, carlos55.jpg, lewishamilton, daniel3.jpg, mclaren, oscarrr.p.jpg and 2,934,897 others
gamergirl_y/n please stop killing me in COD đ
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username1 no cause they way everyone he respawned she was there ready to kill him had me weakkkk
username2 LMFAOO she smoked you đđ
daniel3.jpg AHAHAHAHAHA đ€Łđ«”
oscarrr.p.jpg nah bro you just gotta learn how to fight back
âł username5 @.oscarrr.p.jpg oscar please đâ
charleslec.jpg lando what happen to being champions?! đȘ
carlos55.jpg if you suck just say that đ€Łđ€Ł
username93 lol thatâs @.y/n_ig đ€Łđ€Ł
y/n_ig
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got a new setup and itâs so cuteeeee!! also that boba was so fucking good we need to get some more @.yourbff sidenote whoever ln4gaming is sucks ass at COD đđ
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username1 nah cause the way you kept killing then đđđ
yourrbff bruh i know whoever that was, was mad as helll
username6 nah cause how did you keep finding him?!?!
lovey/n but why didnât he fight backâŠđ
username7 yea he needed to log off fr cause after that đâ
username10 you know how quickly I wouldnât turned my shit off đ
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lando.jpg
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soooooâŠi 1 v1 @.yn_ig in COD âŠand sadly i lost đ now i owe her food đȘ
username13 LMFAOOO
username12 she literally destroyed you đđ
y/n_ig sucks to suck ig, thankfully i wouldnât know đ€
âł lando.jpg @.y/n_ig you still want food right?!? đ€š
âł y/n_ig @.lando.jpg yes please donât deprive me of my food đđ
username8 the stream was hilarious!! havenât laughed like that in a min đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł
username17 one of the best streams Iâve seen in a while
username43 never laughed so hard đđ
username2 nah y/n is mad good at COD đ
carlossainzjr landoâŠdo better
âł lando.jpg @.carlossainzjr dude đ§ iâd like to see you try đ
âł carlossainzjr @.lando.jpg i would beat you đ„±
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landonorris just posted a new story!!
y/n_ig just posted a new story!
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lil dump đ
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username13 cuteeee đ
username14 omggg those cookies look delicious đ„Ž
username15 the cookies are soo cuteeeâșïž
username16 omg i love the phone case đ€
username17 not the picture of her playing COD with lando đ€
âł f1gossip101 @.username17 đđđ
username18 her rings are so niceee!!
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date nights đ„°
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username14 ummmm pause who is this??! đ§
username13 wait this is cuteeeeâșïž
username15 awwww đ
username73 lando off the market?!?
username03 noooo it was supposed to be me đ„Č
username18 you guys make me sick
âł username23 @.username18 stay mad
username65 so cuteee đ
username3 i feel like ik who it is đ€đ€
âł username93 @.username3 same girl đ€§
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lando.jpg just posted a new story!
y/n_ig just posted a new story!
y/n_ig just posted a new story!
y/n_ig
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Brazil!!! You have been so much fun!! đ€§â€ïž
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username13 it was so fun meeting you!!!
âł y/n_ig @.username17 same honey!! thank you for the bracelet!! đ„čđâš
username8 omg?! you were there!! i wish I had seen you đ„Č
âł y/n_ig @.username8 aww Iâm sorry baby!! next time đ
username5 kitten update?!
âł y/n_ig @username5 soon đ
username7 ik the fits ateeee
username20 omg?! not the mclaren garage đ€
username11 we all know who she was there for đ«ąđ€
âł y/n_ig @.username11 yes maâam the GOAT Sir Lewis Hamilton
âł username2 @.y/n_ig deaddddd đđ
âł username9 @.y/n_ig opp - đ
âł username10 @.y/n_ig LMFAOOO đ€Ł
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y/n_ig
liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, landonorris, disney, arianagrande, oscarpiastri and 4,568,897 others guys there was two of them!!! brother and sisters!! meet Loki and Thor!!! đ„čđ„°đ€§â€ïž
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username19 OMG HOW CUTEEE đ„°
username22 THE NAMES AHHHH!! đ€
username11 OMG KITTENS!!! đ„č
username32 THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM CHOSE YOU TWICEEE đ€©đ„°
username24 I WANT ONEE đ€§đ€§
landonorris cute âșïž liked by y/n_ig
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y/n_ig posted a new story!
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first time having indian food and mango boba 100/10
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username19 so we just going to ignore the first pic? đ«ą
username7 sir who is that?!?! đź
username1 heâs taken nooo đ„Č
username22 yaâll itâs me in the pic donât trip đ€Ș
âł username11 @.username22 you delulu girl
username61 we know who that is đ€
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y/n_ig just posted a new story!!!
landonorris just posted a new story!!
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carnival!!! đ€©
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username33 they are so cute âșïž
username99 lol they arenât even trying to hide it
username8 i love them đ
username27 couple goals fr
username20 how did yall know itâs lando?!? Whatâs if itâs someone else?
âł username19 @.username20 girl..
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dress to impress đâš #oscars2024
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username19 she ate the oscar girlies up đ€
username8 sheâs so pretty đ„čâš
username3 im obsessed with her đ€§
sza preety girl đ liked by y/n_ig
username7 I canât wait for the days he wins her oscar!!!
username15 this color on her?!?! yessss!!!âš
landonorris absolutely beautiful đđ„° liked by y/n_ig
username4 ^^ they are definitely dating đ€
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my boy đ„°đ€
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username3 I knewww ittt
âł y/n_ig @.username3 everyone knew tbh đđ€
yourbff congrats baby đ„°
username6 AHHH THEY ARE THEE COUPLEEE
username9 omg the streams are about to be crazyy!!
username5 the funniest couple frfr
username87 the are so cuteee đ€
livelaughlovey/n hard launchhhh đ€§
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my girl đ€©đ
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username3 AHHH SO CUTEEE
username2 wait these pics are so cuteee
username4 what is with boyfriends and off guard pics đ
username32 they are so cutee
carlossainzjr đ
oscarpiastri finally about time congrats buddy đ„°
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#êšàżvictoriaâs writings!! àżêš#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x female reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 smau#f1 grid#f1 x you#f1#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 social media au
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I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is đ„ș! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!
omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3
Aaronâs job isnât one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that youâll be fine by yourself.
âAre you sure you donât want me to stay?â He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. âI can if you want me to.â
Of course the only time heâd be eager to ask for a day off is when itâs in your favor. He doesnât even call out when heâs the one whoâs sick.
âNo, you canât, Aaron. They need you over there,â you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. âIâm just gonna sleep this off. Iâll be fine.â
He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.
Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, âIâll call you when I can to check in, okay?â
âYou really donât have to-â
âLet me do that, at least, sweetheart.â
âOkay.â
He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.
Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how youâre doing, if youâve eaten. One of them during his lunchâwhich he rarely takesâand lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.
The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows youâve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.
Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. âSweetheart.â
âHi, Aaron.â
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. âWhy didnât you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.â
âGot too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope thatâs okay.â
The medicine you took hours ago hasnât done much other than make you a little groggy, and itâs clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.
Aaronâs hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. âHave you slept? Are you hungry?â
You shake your head, âdonât really feel like eating.â
âYou should,â he says. âHow about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.â
âOkay, doctor Hotchner.â
He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.
He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, youâve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.
Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. âArenât you tired?â
âItâs been hard to sleep,â you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. âWill you read to me?â
âSure, sweetheart. Pick a book.â
You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though heâs back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.
Youâve always loved Aaronâs voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. Heâs using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because itâs one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.
Itâs only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that youâre finally able to fall asleep.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner blurbs#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner request#hotch blurb#hotch blurbs#aaron hotchner requests#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch
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đđđđ đđđđđ âŻâŻâŻ Part II of the 'đđđ đđđđđ' series
SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.
TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(
A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much
NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.
WC: 4k lmaooo
Series masterlist Pt1: đđđ đđđđđ âź âž â Part 3 Now playing: Part 2
The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her headâŠShe looks exactly like Suguru.
She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.
Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.
"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials
She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.
"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.
You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.
You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."
"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.
His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.
He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.
His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...
"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.
Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.
His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.
He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.
"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his
You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl
Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.
"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.
He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"
You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.
You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.
You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.
You gently unclasp her from the carrier. âSupport her neck, sheâs only two months old.â
He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.
You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadnât lost half of your soul that day.
His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him âdaddyâ. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...
His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small childâs bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a strangerâs arms, but she isnât crying to get away from him. The fact that sheâs not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.
"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.
You take a sudden breath as your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.
His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though youâre only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and itâs just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and youâre trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.
"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand
He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.
"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.
His heart breaks as you call him âGetoâ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....
You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.
You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" you murmur tiredly, your voice hoarse
The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. âIâm on my way.â
You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.
Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.
He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⯠sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⯠are safe
"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.
His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He canât bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just canât help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. âY/NâŠdonât cry,â he whispers.
You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. âDonât do that, you have no right to when you decided to leaveâŠ.â You say as you weakly push his hand away, but itâs so feeble and weary that itâs like a gentle nudge.
A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after heâs the one that caused this pain to begin with?
His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.
You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.
"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel your limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.
Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."
"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."
He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "Iâm not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.
Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.
"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.
"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. Thatâs basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, itâs optimistic.
Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.
Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.
He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.
Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like itâs masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...â he murmurs out weakly.
âI am gladâŠevery child deserves a home.â You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?
Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isnât how itâs supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. Thereâs so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love
âI wonât tell her that you have kids when she grows up.â You say with smile. âWouldnât want her to think sheâs not a good kid and thatâs why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. Sheâll think her daddy didnât like her.â You mumur. âKids can be particularly fragileâŠwho would know better than a mother whoâs a kid herself?â
His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way youâre already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because youâre still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.
âAt least raise them well SuguruâŠthe two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. Sheâs so tiny, hasnât even gotten hair on her head fully.
Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.
What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.
My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. âAh I see⊠they are your girls.â You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skinâŠshe is a replica of him and yet heâs never had the chance to call her his child. Itâs so cruel.
He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girlsâŠnot our girls. His girls. He doesnât have the right to have you call them our girls. Theyâre just his. All because of him.
âWill she ever be your daughter SuguruâŠ?â You canât help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a childâs as tears roll down your eyesâŠyou feel so small itâs embarrassing.
A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. âHow could I...sheâsâŠâ he struggles to get the words out. âSheâs ours. Sheâs ours and sheâll always be ours.â
Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.
"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."
The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.
"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.
But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.
"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.
"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.
He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. âI love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...
Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguruâs cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguruâs cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.
You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. âY/N....â he whispers.
âSatoruâŠâ You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.
He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. âHeyâŠshh..itâs okayâŠIâm here.â
He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...
A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.
EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.
#white poppieđŒ#âŻđżđżđâ#[đetou đąuguru]#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#âOUR YOUTHâ#jujutsu kaisen angst#geto suguru#geto smut#geto suguru smut#getou suguru x you#suguru angst#getou suguru smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x y/n#geto x reader#geto suguru fanfiction#suguru x you#suguru x reader#jjk smut#suguru x y/n#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru x y/n#jjk angst#satoru x you#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#suguru geto#jjk
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hiii! if its okay w you, could u do txt giving u princess treatment pls ? written imagine or texts idc! whatever u are most comfortable with. thank you~ đ©· feel free to disregard if u aren't up to writing this i understand! <3
Giving their s/o princess treatment - TXT
A/n: thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this and that it meets your standards! This is gonna stay sfw because there was no specification so Iâll just stay on the safe side. Thank you once again. As always, requests are open!
Soobin
âąHis form of princess treatment is holding you close all the time and making sure youâre feed/have enough food
âąOne way he does this is by keeping snacks in his bag and also sneaking snacks in your bag
âąYouâre out driving to get to an amusement park and suddenly you start with âbinnie! Im hungryâ
âąHe points to his bag and smiles, âI packed you a little baggies with goldfish and one with cereal.â
âąHe sees the heartâs in your eyes and feels your appreciation
âąAnother way he does this is by taking you to eat/cooking for you every single time you two see each other or go out on a date
âąHaving a casual home date? Heâs making sure to buy your favorite ramyeon and toppings to cook it for you when you arrive.
âąWent for a couple day get away in Japan? Heâs making sure to feed you your 3 meals a day and getting you snacks at konbini at night! (Buys you onigiri and coolish if youâre still hungry at night :)
Yeonjun
âąI would say yeonjun, at least in my opinion, is within the top 2 most romanic members of the group
âąThis guys would do anything for you
âąWhen I say anything, I truly mean it
âąThere would be days that you tell you youâre sick or your period is causing you horrible cramps, he would drop everything at work and come over to your place
âąI would say his designated âprincess treatmentâ act would be always asking you what you want or need and buying you those things
âąHe wishes he could care for you more in a financial way but you donât let him (slayyyy girl! Independence is so sweet)
âąSo, he loves to surprise you with essentials you were running low on (shampoo, fruit, toothpaste, skin care, etcâŠ) and with luxury gifts :|
âąHe comes home all the time with something in his hands
âąThat most outrageous things heâs done is come home casually with a Birkin hand bag for you
âąHeâs all giggly âhere you go baby! I thought it would be perfect for our trip to jeju this weekend!â
âąâWAIT! Weâre going to jeju this weekend? WAIT WHY DID YOU GET THIS BAG? Omg yeonjun I love youâ
Beomgyu
âąHis definition of princess treatment is doing anything to make you smile.
âąHe tells you bad jokes when he sees you frowning, sitting alone in your bed
âąâHey babyâŠwhat do you call two ducks and and a cow?â
âąâWhat :(â
âąâQuackers and Milk :Dâ
âąSmiles once you start to giggle and heâs just happy you can feel better because of him
âąAnything things he does is make a fool of himself in front of anyone
âąOne time, you two were taking a nice walk in the evening. He saw you just kind spaced out. He knew exactly how to snap you out of it.
âąHe pretends to trip, shrieks and falls on the ground dramaticallyâŠembarrassingly
âąâBEOMGYU are you okay???â You kneel down to help him up and he smiles
âąâDo I have you attention now, cutie pie?â Smack some sense him :| dummy
âąHis ultimate cardâŠdoing aegyo for you in front of his members
âąThey all start to practically piss themselves laughing when they see beomgyu making silly faces and baby talking.
âąHeâs never gonna live it down but he doesnât care because itâs gonna help lift his girls mood
Taehyun
âąHis definition of princess treatment is protecting you in any way he can
âąWhat else are his muscles for (lmao his muscles are sooooo secy :(((
âąHe does that thing where if youâre walking on the sidewalks, he makes sure youâre on the side thats away from the road
âąHe wants to keep you safe from the cars :(
âąHe also getâs defensive when guys start looking at youÂ
âąFor example: you two went to a club once and tyun had to go to the bathroom
âąHe whines about leaving you alone but you push him away so he doesnât hurt himself holding it
âąA guy shorted than taehyun comes up to you and starts trying to talk to you, asking you questions about yourself (homie rlly thoughts his was a razz master đ)
âąyouâre trying to let him off easy by being short and not saying much but this dude is DETERMINED to speak to you more
âąâI have a boyfriend. Heâs in the bathroom right now. You donât wanna be here when he comeâs back.â
âąâDoll, no the guy is gonna scare me away from talking to you.â
âąHeâs trying to put his hands on his hips and taehyun comes back, grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him back
âąâTry making any sort of contact with my wife again and Iâll kick your assâ
âąThat guy runs off, scared out of his mind
âąâThat guyâs shirt was so fake. The material was so horrible.â
âąâWife :((â
âąâYeah, my wife. Letâs go get new drinks. On me.â
Huening Kai
âąThis man practically worships the ground you walk on
âąSo so sweet and caring
âąHe loves taking care of you both physically and financially
âąHe gives you a nice massage every day and helps you take baths and stuff
âąBuys you all the skincare items you want and buys lots of masks so you two can have self care nights
âąSpeaking of self care nightsâŠhe does this silly little act where he pretends to be a butler for you âyes miss, I will go get you a âyummy drinkâ. Whatever you wantâ
âąRushes around to get you whatever you need during your self care nights so you donât have to get up until youâre ready.
âąHe also loves to buy you things, kind of like yeonjun
âąTakes you on surprise vacations to different places around the world
âąHe takes you to different cities for the weekend
âąHe also buys you souvenirs everywhere you goes or everywhere goes on tour
âąHe loves taking you to the arcade so you two can play games
âąHeâs the type of boyfriend that will stay at the claw machine with the prize you like until he getâs that prize for you
âąHe loveâs you so much and your little plushie family
âąHe also loves late night drives especially when the weather is nice
#txt headcanons#txt imagines#txt reactions#txt x reader#txt fluff#huening kai x reader#beomgyu x reader#taehyun x reader#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader
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click, p.2 - Sam Winchester/Reader
read it on ao3.
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (late s5) Tags/Warnings: angst, love confessions, romantic sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, (aka, Sam pussy addiction: the shequel), Sam is Lucifer's vessel, reader is AFAB. Word Count: ~11k. Notes: i was commissioned for the second time by the lovely @daffodil-mania, who wanted a continuation of her last fic set during the "say yes" era of s5. (sooooo dangerous to let me put my grubby hands on this version of Sam, btw). i cannot express how BUCK FUCKING WILD uncouth-nation went for the first part of this fic, so this is for all the wonderful people who gushed over click, commented, threw me some kudos, or even just read it and liked it. lots of love, and i hope you enjoy <3 i did my best to rip out your soul as best i could. THIS CAN STAND ON IT'S OWNNN AHHH. i mean. if u wanna read it <3 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!
FIVE YEARS LATER
The walk from the bus stop to your apartment is a safe and easy seven minutes. If you were any other person in any other world, youâd glide onto the bus after your night shift at the university, hop off at your stop, and bumble toward your apartment without a single care in the world. Maybe stare at your phone the whole walk back. Text a hot guy who isnât the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. Normal stuff.
But this is your life, so you sit front seat on the bus, hands in your lap, tapping a nervous beat against the angel blade hidden in your book bag. The windows rattle in their frames and gleam with rain. You could get off at your stop and take those easy seven minutes homeâbut the bus driver could also be a demon, so.
Since you arenât in the mood to die a slow death tonight, walking a few extra blocks to keep anybody from knowing where you live will have to work.
On day two of this, youâd called Dean and asked if you were being extra paranoid. Heâd kindly pointed out: Extra-paranoid is just extra-survival. I dunno about you, but survivinâ a lilâ extra sounds fan-fuckin-tastic to me right about now.
Heâs right. You know heâs right. But it still doesnât feel like a good answer, and that makes you picture Sam, twenty-three and still bright-eyed, running his fingers down your bare back and scowling. Iâm sick of surviving. One of these days, I want to actually live my life.
But that had been before the apocalypse, before Deanâs deal, before everything. Sam was a different man now. Hunting had reached into all three of you and ripped all sorts of things out, but you would never forgive it for taking Samâs hope for something better. God, you missed that Sam. You missed him more than anything.
The city bus lumbers up to the curb and spits you out onto the sidewalk, where you superstitiously hover, waiting for the other passengers crawling away from their night shifts to scatter. Itâs only when the bus is a dark spot in the mist down the street that you start to walk, your whole body caked head to toe with oily rain.Â
This time, you take a random left toward your apartment and serpentine street-to-street, never walking the exact same way the same week. By the time youâre closer to where the bus couldâve actually dropped you off, the lingering smell of old research books has been practically power-washed out of your clothes. You try to think of anything but the freezing, biting, face-stinging rain⊠and, like a moth to a flame, your mind floats back to Sam.
Itâs been over two weeks since he dropped the nuclear option. Over two weeks ago, Sam wanted to say yes to Lucifer, and over two weeks have passed since the massive, unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object fight thatâd erupted as a result.
Dean had blown up. Sam had pushed. Youâd burst into tears and clawed into Sam just as deep, because why, why would he ever go thereâwhy would that even be a fathomable possibility in his mind? Did he really think so low of himself? How could he ever give up like that? How could he leave youâ?
The worst part was easily the way Sam had reacted. With Dean or John, he could yell himself hoarse, but when it came to fighting you all he could do was sit and take it. He put his head down and nodded at everything you said, even the cruel things. In some ways it made you angrier, but also inconceivably, cosmically guilty. This was Samâs choice. And of course, because this was Sam, his choice was to save the whole goddamn world. Not a single bone in your body carried that level of selflessness, yet Sam bled the stuff.
You were still furious with him, but only because being mad at him was the only option you had left. The right thing to do would be to tell Sam, I trust you to make this decision, this is your life, and let him take that jump⊠But you didnât have it in you. Saying that felt like pushing him over the ledge yourself, or telling him youâd never cared about him in the first place. If you were angry at least you were still fighting for him in some way.
Youâd been on board for everythingâtrying to find a way out of Deanâs deal, trying to kill Lilith, everything. But the argument with Sam had torn out the final piece of you that could stand this, so you packed a bag, told Dean youâd be in a strict research-only role, and booked it back to your hometown. It was cowardly and stupid and beyond selfish, but you knew your stance. The hunt had taken everything from you. You refused to let it take Sam, too.
Maybe, Sam would take you stepping away as a serious sign to change his mind. You couldnât imagine a world where Sam and his Winchester stubbornness would ever do that, but. It was a nice wish to hold onto.
By the time you make it up the steps to your apartment building, youâre soaked to the bone and audibly making pathetic shivering sounds. Your bookbag feels heavier than ever, digging a trench into your shoulder as you fish around for your keys. The second your apartment door is open the true weight of your exhaustion hits youâ
âand then utterly disappears, replaced by a shock of pure adrenaline.
Thereâs a new pair of boots by your front door.
You catch the heavy door before it goes swinging against the doorjamb, straining your ears against the ringing silence. The bedside lamp is on in your room.
On dead-quiet feet, you slip in, click the door shut behind you, and slip off your bookbag. Your angel blade is in your hand in a second, but you risk a few extra steps toward your kitchen table to wiggle loose the pistol you taped underneath. Just the weight of your weapons in your hands flicks the hunter muscle memory back on in your body, and before you can think youâre hiding in the shadow beside your bedroom door. Listening.
Soft breathing. The pages of a book turning.
You know, instinctively, who it isâyou would know him dumb and blind and dead. But these days, anybody could be piloting his body around.
You suck in a deep breath through your nose, heart throbbing in your ears. You wait until the fingers on your gun arenât shaking anymore, then burst inside the room, slamming the door into the wall and whipping your pistol up to eye level.
Samâs head flinches towards you. He is exactly as you saw him two weeks ago; solemn, determined, and open, the air around him practically steaming with safety and goodness. Heâs sat comfortably on your bed, reading a book he brought with him. Despite everything, your belly still curls with butterflies when you lay eyes on him. Sam. Definitely Sam, and no one else.
Still, your paranoia has gotten you this far. You both stare at each other for a beat, equal parts scared out of your minds and relieved. Without a word, you keep your gun trained on him, and Sam lets you, his eyes big and understanding. You shuffle sideways to your dresser, and without turning away from him, pop open the top drawer and toss him the silver flask of holy water you keep hidden inside.Â
He catches it. So, not a shapeshifter, then. Sam takes a drink of the holy water, even turning to the side so you can see the water go into his mouth. (A demon in Missouri had slipped past the three of you by pretending to sipâonly Sam would know that.) Youâre still a little terrified, but you manage to pull your weapons back down to your sides. You still donât know what to say.
Heâs really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. Heâs here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you canât bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize heâd scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and heâd hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things.
You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. âDid you⊠do my dishes?â
Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. Heâs looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. ââŠYeah. I used the key you gave me to get in⊠Hope thatâs okay.â
Thereâs another long pause. Usually when you stare at Sam, he doesnât stare so intensely back, but you share a weird mutual moment where you just stand there and take each other in. Itâs so obvious itâs painful, but if heâs doing it then you feel entitled to devour him with your eyes too.
âI got, uh, bored. Waiting for you,â Sam clarifies. âThought Iâd make myself useful.â
Sam stands from the bed. For a second you think heâs heading straight for you, but he moves toward the dresser behind you, kindly tucking the holy water back where it was stowed. You flit out of his way as fast as you can and set your weapons down on the closest available surface, feeling off-kilter. Why would he come here? Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind?
You hold onto the question, but you know itâs too out of character to hope for. Despair sinks into your gut like a rock in a pond. You know why Samâs here. He would never make this decision without telling you firstâwithout at least saying goodbye in person.
Your throat locks up with tears.
Behind you, Sam hums, âYou changed your hair.â
Right. Youâd altered it to be more undercover. You resist the urge to reach up and play with your hair, or give in to any of the fluttery feelings you always feel around Sam. âItâs safer.â Tightly, you ask him, âWhat are you doing here?â
Sam drags a long breath through his nose. You clutch the end of your bookshelf, your chest crumpling with misery. Please donât say it. Please, please, lie to me if you have to.
â...Iâm not taking the jump,â Sam breathes.
Thereâs more that he says after that. He talks about how you and Dean are right, and how, surely, after everything that the three of you have been through, thereâs got to be another way to end this. Youâve always found another way in the past. Sam explains all this to you in a sure, quiet voice, like this is something heâs thought about for a long time, but you barely hear him after those first words. Thereâs this persistent tension in your chest thatâs telling you that thereâs something wrong here, but you donât careâyou donât give a single fucking shit, because SamâSam isnât saying yes. Samâs staying.
ââŠare other ways I can make up for the mistakes I made,â heâs telling you, scrambling to fill the nagging silence.
You take a moment to force back your tears, and Sam, nervously, keeps talking.
He swallows, trying to smile. âI-I wouldâve called and told you, but something tells me you wouldnât have picked up.â
When youâve got your bearings back, you push away from your bookshelf and turn to face him. Your legs are so leaden that you feel as if you have to physically pick up your body and drop it down the other direction, but you manage it. âWhat⊠what made you change your mind?â
Sam gets one look at your face and wilts with guilt. He doesnât answer your question in wordsâjust shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his feet, then around your room, as if his reason was in the air with the two of you. In the apartment. His eyes flicker over you just once, and you understand. Seeing you leave really had scared him.
âBe careful,â you start to joke with him, âyou start validating my childish reactions and weâre gonna have a whole new set of problems on our hands.â
Sam scoffs. âIt wasnât childish to run away.â
You raise an eyebrow at his word choice, which gets an honest-to-god laugh out of him. A real good Sam Winchester laugh, dimples and all. The last dregs of anxiety in your gut melt at the sound, and Sam reassures you, shrugging, âYou needed to get out. In case you forgot, I kind of invented wanting to get out. I understand. I really do.â
You know that he does. Thatâs not exactly going to stop you from feeling guilty about ditching them, but at least it kicked some sense into him. God. For the last five or six years, your every moment had been spent with Sam and his brother. Even just a couple weeks without him had drained you, and having him back only makes those feelings more clear. Samâs presence commands the space in a way that turns your shitty, undecorated bedroom into someplace magical, someplace good and safe and warm, and just seeing him standing there draws the ache out of your spine.
Your reach out for his sleeve. Somehow, heâs more real than ever, a tangible person instead of the memory youâve chased for so long.
âYouâre really not saying yes?â
Sam unwinds your hand from the fabric so he can hold it instead, your fingers scooped in his fingers. Youâre given a firm squeeze and are hypnotized by him in an instant, the world narrowing down to this moment between just him and just you.
Sam looks into your eyes when he promises, âIâm not going anywhere.â
The tears youâd resisted before return in one big, merciless wave. Youâre so tired and the rain was so fucking cold and youâre so sick of being scared that Sam, thank god, Sam, is everything you could possibly need. Heâs not going anywhere. Before you can stop yourself youâre clutching him for dear life, shoving your face in his shirt and crushing his body against yours. These last few weeks have submerged you in survival mode, and you donât realize how deep until Sam pulls you out of the current. Heâs warm and dry, and when you inhale to sob he smells like a 24-hour-laundromat, the Impala, and home home home. You couldâve lost that. You couldâve lost him.
âTh-thank you,â you choke out at nothing in particular, âthank you.â
Youâve cried a lot this week, so there are not many tears left to shed. Still, Sam holds you through all of them, swaying back and forth with you and cooing in your ear. You hear him sniffling too. When youâre both all sobbed out, you pull back to tell him you love him, to remind him of all the things he needs to hear, but Sam strangely doesnât let you. The second he feels you pull away he clutches you back against him, and you get the uneasy impression that youâve been comforting him more than heâs been comforting you. His whole bodyâs shaking.
Sam hugs you for longer than he ever has before. Itâs a little worrying, but youâve both needed it so much that you donât even complain.
After a while, Sam slips back, and in traditional Winchester fashion tries to play off his vulnerability. Heâs always been a dead-silent crier, so you have zero way to gauge how bad things are until you see his face. He looks like heâd sobbed his heart out. Your shirt is still wet from the rain, but even then you can feel Samâs tears soaking your shoulder. Saying anything about it will just embarrass him, though.
â...I-I, uh,â you lick the tears off your lips, mumbling, âI donât know boutâ you, but Iâm beat. Do you have somewhere you gotta be, or,â you add hopefully, âor can you stick around?â
This is the part where Sam will start coaxing you to drive back with him to where he and Dean are holed up, youâre sure of it. Youâre already plotting in your head what to pack and what to take, but Sam never brings it up. He doesnât worry about tomorrow yet.
He presses his lips together. âI was hoping I could stay here tonight, actually.â
This is an even better answer. Youâre nodding before heâs even finished the thought, stroking your hand down his chest. It twists your gut in knots to see him like this, so you start to steer the conversation toward something more playful, something less daunting to think about.
âYouâre lucky I like you then,â you smirk. Somehow, you manage to peel yourself out of his bubble and teeter toward your dresser, scrubbing the tears off your face. âMake yourself comfortable. I dunno about you, but Iâm getting the fuck out of these work clothes, Iâm freezing. Do you need anything to sleep in? Iâve got at least five years of your stolen shirts in here.â
You hear him ease himself down on the end of your bed again, but thereâs no sassy retort, sly comment, or any sort of line about you and your stealing habits. Instead, sweet and simple, he says, âIâll just sleep in this. You can have them.â
Okay. Weird.
Since he didnât take the bait, you throw out another line and try again. This time, you kick off your shoes, open a drawer, and turn back to him with two of his shirts in hand. âReally?â You wave them teasingly in the air. âYou sure?â
They are some of his best shirts, easy. Youâre not a cheap thief. The first is a holey, feather-soft Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, and the second is a deep maroon Stanford sweater. He has so few artifacts from that time in his life that thereâs no way he wonât want this one back. Right?
But Sam just gazes at you, his whole face soft and loving as he says, âYou should wear the Stanford one. It looks good on you.â
Those old hot-shivery feelings for him seep down your spine, and you feel in real-time how your cheeks flood with heat. Damn, okay. Consider yourself wooed.
Youâve been down this road with Sam many, many timesâenough to know when heâs flirting with you. The forbidden labels had never been thrown around, but. Well. Sam had been your first time, as well as the many other times after that.
Heâs usually leagues more subtle than his brother, but for whatever reason heâs pouring it on by the truckload tonight. When you turn around heâs nothing but big, happy puppy eyes, waiting patiently for you at the end of the bed. (Like youâre his girlfriend. Like anything about this is normal at all, and you and Sam are going to tuck into bed together like itâs any other night). Fuck, you missed him.
The bathroom is only a few steps away, but this is Sam, so you decide to just throw on your pajamas right here. Your shirt is so wet that it hits the floor with a slap. It also takes some experience to wring yourself out of your denim-turned-cement jeans, so itâs not the sexiest show in the entire world. Still, Samâs gaze traces sensual lines down your back. You would rather go to literal, actual hell than wear your bra for a minute longer, so the second youâre free of its death grip, a long happy sigh drains out of you. A similar dreamy sigh drains out of Sam. Dork.
âI will never get tired of that,â Sam murmurs. You expect to hear some kind of hunger there, but the timber of his voice bleeds with admiration and fondness.
There are very few ways to be a normal human being while Sam Winchester adores your nude body with his eyes. The best you can do is burst into flustered, giggly laughter and give him a good eyeroll, your entire face cooking like a stove burner.
âAlright, loverboy,â you scoff, âIâm gonna go brush my teeth and take my makeup offââ
âCan I help?â Sam asks.
You sputter out another laugh, confused. âYou wanna brush my teeth for me?â
âNo,â Sam shakes his head, smiling big, âLemme take your makeup off for you.â
Okay. Weirder. But itâs sweet, and you like this side of him, so you decide to indulge his mood. â...Sure.â
You go about your night-time routine. Sam continues to be a weirdo, trailing you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, and blinking slow endearing blinks at you as he⊠watches you brush your teeth. Just. Stands there, watching, utterly enamored with this little moment of domesticity with you. On the surface level youâre a little thrown off, but it falls under the category of Freaky Sam Things that made you catch feelings for him in the first place, so. You grin into your toothbrush the whole time.
When heâs satisfied by his little ogling fest, he drifts off to hunt around for your makeup wipes. Either youâre predictable or he knows you too well, because he finds them within seconds, and patiently sits back as you finish up your routine, watching you like youâll disappear on him the moment he turns away. Click click, you feel inside you.
âOkay,â he says when youâre done. âClose your eyes.â
You do. You wait for the cool touch of the wipe on your face, but instead, Samâs big, rough fingers find your chin and hold you still. It takes conscience effort to not melt into his touch like a cat in a square of sunlight. Your willpower is nothing on Samâs, though, so you give in quickly, sinking into his hand and sighing through your nose. In gentle swipes, he cleans your face. It must be a nightmare of smeared mascara considering how youâd cried earlier⊠And yet Sam had still been so transfixed by you. Heâs the fucking best.
Samâs hand tilts your head from side to side to survey his handiwork. Pleased, he tosses the wipe in the trash and says, âThere you go.â
You open your eyes and go to double-check his work in the mirror, but Sam hasnât removed his hand from your chin, and you really, really donât want him to. His thick thumb comes up and caresses under your lips. He looks at you like he loves you, and with all the honesty in the world, he utters, â...You are so pretty.â
âŠThe only way for you to survive this is by throwing him a dry look. âYouâre full of shit. Whatâs your game, Winchester?â
That earns you another authentic Sam laugh, along with a handsome boyish smile. âThereâs no game. What are you talking about?â
You squint at him. Liar.
âThis.â You gestured between the two of you, suspicious. âYouâre mooning over me. Why are you mooning? Are you planning something?â
A ripple of discomfort rolls across Samâs face, but it passes too fast for you to read. His hands go right back in his pockets and he leans into the doorframe again. âIâm just⊠happy weâre not fighting,â he confesses.
Oh. That makes sense. Sam hasnât exactly made up with you like that before, but. These times change everyone. You ease up on your teasing and admit, âMe too.â
âIâm sorry for scaring you away,â Sam says, and far, far too seriously for your liking, he whispers, âIâm sorry for everything.â
Your answer slips right out of your mouth without hesitation. âI forgive you, stupid,â your brows furrow together. âAnd Iâm sorry, too. I said some pretty shitty stuff back there.â
Sam wilts against the doorframe a little. âNothing I didnât deserve.â
A dull pulse of anger flares in your chest, which flickers out and dies not a second later. Thereâs so much you want to say to that.
It is so fucking unfairâbiblically, cosmically unfairâthat Sam, the good guy to end all good guys, thinks of himself this way. He is the kind of righteous they make saints out of. And yet he sits in your silly little bathroom in your shitty little apartment and gives you that look, the look that says, I deserve this and so much more. I deserve to rot in hell for all eternity. He gave you that exact look when he brought up saying yes. He gives it to you now, because Sam sees everything as a sin to serve penance forâfreeing Lucifer from the cage and making you a little worried. He thinks heâs so evil, so beyond saving. It makes you want to get your fists in your shirt and just shake him.Â
Youâre good! You want to scream. Just for once in your life, listen to me! None of this is your fault!
Thereâs nothing you could say to him that would ever make him let go of his guilt. But, at the very least, you could help him forget about it for a while.
âYou beat yourself up too much,â you scold. Then, softer, you add, âCâmere, Sammy.â
Sam does as told, planting himself right in front of you. God, heâs changed. You look him over with a bittersweet smile. He used to be so spindly. The last few years have filled him out, forcing his body into something ready for war. The hunt reached in and tore all sorts of things out of people, but youâd been wrong about what itâd ripped out of Sam. His optimism was still there, warm and humming in the tissue of his body, and just seeing it fills you with hope. He looks so different from the man youâd had all to yourself in that cabin, but you can feel that heâs still in there. Heâs still your Sam.
You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs into his dimples and quietly, needily rasping, â...Can I take care of you?â
Samâs whole body shudders with relief. âPlease, yes.â
The next few beats of this dance havenât changed. Like always, Sam comes flying in with a big, smashing kiss that shatters any leftover barriers between you. Youâre not Samâs girlfriend and heâs not your boyfriend, but Sam makes you his with this kiss. (If only for a little while). Your noses mash together and his eyes squeeze shut and then everything is just Sam, Sam, Sam at every angle. His hands are at his sides then suddenly theyâre all over you, taking two greedy handfuls of your waist under the Stanford sweater. He jams your hips against his and kisses you senseless, towering over you, surrounding you, so that when you pull back to gasp for breath your lungs are flooded with his familiar heady love potion.
Either heâs giving off some Poison Ivy-level pheromones, or your body is so familiar with these steps that it knows what comes after this kiss⊠because youâre instantly wet.
You realized a long time ago that you and Sam have sex a bit too often for it to be considered âcasual,â but even if it was, Sam is not a casual kind of lay. After that first soul-stealing kiss, Sam stares you down like a four-course meal, spins you around, pushes you down chest-first onto the bathroom counter, drops to his kneesâ
âand shoves his face between your legs like itâs his goddamn job.
In the middle of all your surprised shrieking and squirming, Sam nuzzles his face into your panties and moans deep and bassy in his throat, âYes.â
Like heâs won something. Like heâs been waiting weeks to do this. Holy fuck, youâll never get tired of that.
The second you have even an atom of your reason back, you slap a hand over your mouth. Neighbors! Sam has already forgotten what neighbors are, and is holy-mission-from-god-determined to make you noisy. Heâs extra hungry for it tonight, too. You squeak out his name, not so much in shock, but more because having those huge hands squeezing where your ass starts to round out tends to produce a reaction, and Sam rumbles like a lawnmower in approval. Holy fuck.
He doesnât have to ask you to spread your legs. One of the hands appreciating your ass slides between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear, and you have to try not to squeal when the meaty pad of Samâs thumb swipes across your clothed folds. He presses a big kiss in that exact spot as he drags your panties down your legs, and itâs a weirdly sweet gesture that makes your heart and your belly flutter with shivery heat. Fuck. Fuck, you missed him so much.
The first few times Sam had sprung this move on you, you hadnât exactly had enough time to fully rev up. But Sam is deadly efficient in and out of the bedroom, so he makes a point to get you extra wet (for him) with his spit, laving his hot, slippery tongue over you in one long swipe. He eats you out with all the obscene, noisy enjoyment of somebody gorging on the juiciest fruit theyâve ever tasted. Even you are scandalized.
It becomes embarrassingly clear that covering your mouth isnât going to keep Sam from what he wants. The high, desperate moan you try to stifle only makes him work harder. You press an arm flat to the counter and bury your face in it for strength, since youâre weak and whimpering for him already.Â
Sam was good in bed when you met him. But, by nature, he is a relentless and avid learner, and itâs been five whole years since he put his mouth on you for the first time. Now, Sam is a certified pussy-eating weapon. He knows your body better than anyone possibly could. Youâre over the edge in a minute flat.
Your climax flies through you in one whizzing, sparking rush, then keeps flying, until your bodyâs squeezing out little squeaky pleas for mercy of its own accord. This is his favorite part. You claw into the countertop and wail for it, pushing at the floor in your socks to gain any sort of leverage. To press closer? To squirm away? You have zero fucking clue, since the thought part of your brain has been blasted into a smoking crater. Sam wraps a big arm around your spasming thigh to pin you open, and holy fucking shit, could that man suck the chrome off a tailpipe. His mouth is a whirlwind of licking and suction just on the right side of oh fuck too much that makes your skin feel like itâs fizzing. You are a thread that heâs just pulling and pulling until youâre so thin you could snap into nothingâ
You wait for the moment when Sam pops off you, stands up, and goes for his zipper, but he never does. He remains on the floor, determined to lick you through overstimulation and straight into round two. But thatâs a whole minute you could spend with his dick inside you instead, and thereâs no fucking way youâre wasting that. Not when heâs here and real and not going to say yes. Samâs not going anywhere. Heâs staying, heâs alive, and the world isnât going to end tomorrow.
âNo no no,â you bite out in one short, rattling breath. âS-SuhâSam, please pleaseââ An unexpected sob shreds out of you. âMiss you. Need you.â
Youâre actually, genuinely crying, and not entirely in the fun sexed-out way. Sam backs up. Heâs not even halfway standing when you wrench him up the rest of the way, straight into a desperate, maddening kiss. Itâs a brutal cross of teeth and tongue. The need for body heat and skin and him burns through you like genuine bloodlust, so you cram yourself up against him with life-or-death urgency. You get your nails into him until you feel something like shirt fabric and viciously yank it over his head, waiting for the moment when he grabs your wrists or shoves you onto the bed o-orâor starts to blow off steam. Causeâ thatâs what this is all about, right?
He drags your mouths apart. Sam pants, âSlow down.â
You stop.
This is. This is new.
Thereâs no slowing, with this. You both go and you keep going until thereâs no more fuel in your tanks, and you crawl out of bed the next day feeling like youâve beaten the rot out of each other. Youâve never once slowed down during this before, and as your wheels spin to a halt for the first time, reality filters back in around you.
Sam stares at you. His hair is all over the place. A patchy blush speckles up his heaving chest, burning in his ears and in his cheeks. Your slick shines on his lips and the bulb of his nose. Heâs just standing there and fucking looking at you, but for whatever reason it feels like the color has seeped back into the world.
âSâokay. Gonna be okay,â Sam hushes, bleeding with sweetness.
He picks up your hands, moving you as if you were a delicate glass he was turning over in each palm. Each of your hands are kissed in the center (oh my fucking god) then wrapped around his neck, and when he has you in his bubble he scoops up your face and kisses you.
Itâs a boyfriend kiss. Not a blowing off steam thing, or any other excuse the two of you have used to feel each other. A genuine, Iâm your boyfriend and I love you sort of kiss, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, the whole nine yards. Itâs the kind of kiss thatâs meant to say something. Every inch of what heâs trying to tell you echoes through your body in one ringing smash, like youâre a big cymbal heâs taken a mallet to.Â
He slips off your lips and hovers, bracing himself for impact. You suck in a rattling breath.
âŠThen you press up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss of your own, just pressing your lips against his, unmoving. Itâs undemanding; an answer. You try to find the words to describe the shift thatâs occurred between you, and end up feeling stuttery and shivery and fucking elated. Romantic. Itâs fucking romantic.
âSammy,â you sob out.
âShhh. Câmere,â Sam whispers, his voice throaty and whiskey smooth. âLemme make it better.â
He tries to walk you straight back out of the bathroom and towards the bed, he really does, but you stop Sam every other step to overwhelm him with obsessed, affectionate kisses. God. His chapstick is all over your fucking mouth (along with your slick) and his hands are everywhere else, feeling instead of grabbing.
âYou always do,â you breathe, and that might be the most honest thing youâve ever said to him in bed.
Sam gets this quiet, pleased smile on his face. No matter how naked and turned-on you are, youâve always got a snappy reply ready, and youâre about to throw one at himâuntil youâre fucking obliterated. He smoothes his palms down your arms. Your wrists are scooped up again. With all the tenderness on the planet, Sam slides in close, kisses your throat, and places both of your hands firmly on his belt.
âTake it off,â he rasps.
This. This isnât the first time heâs given you that order. But knowing, feeling that heâs playing this all out like itâs more than a fling to him⊠that Samâs gonna fuck you like youâre someone special to him⊠sweet jesus, it makes you lightheaded.
âBossy,â your murmur, grinning.
Youâre downright feverish going in to kiss him next. Sam parts your lips with a slow, sinful swipe of his tongue, and there must be a drop of psychic still in him, because suddenly youâre flooded with visions of that filthy mouth between your legs. You can still feel the ghost of him there, keeping you open with his thumbs as the blunt tip of his tongue pushes you somewhere vast and sparkly and wonderful. This is going to be even better.
He sounds like heâs praying when he says, âI just like to watch you.â
Muscle memory serves. You work his clasp open without peeking down and let it hang in his belt loops, mostly because it lets his jeans sling low on his hips in the most enticing way. His belly twitches at even the slightest touch of your hands; always so responsive. Sam drops his forehead on your shoulder to watch you work, and you take the rare opportunity to kiss the top of his head. This is one of your favorite parts. When his button is undone and his zipperâs down, youâre free to smooth your hand under his waistband and take a big handful of him.
You reach in andâsqueeze. Samâs hand snaps up to clutch your arm. His nails dig in, and he rocks forward onto his tiptoes to really dig into your touch. âYes.â
Itâs the kind of soft, needy sound that makes you want to smother him with kisses and hug him until he suffocates. Instead, you cooly purr into his hair, âSo sensitive, Sammy.â
A hoarse, sharp laugh snaps out of him, which dissolves into a shuddering groan. You tug at his jeans until theyâre somewhere you donât care about anymore, and forget about everything else entirely at the sight of his cock. All these years of sneaking around with him have conditioned you. Just seeing the pretty speckling of dark hair that leads to it, then the real deal, hanging blood-hot and heavy between his legs, makes your tummy flip and your mouth water. One of a million embarrassing Sam-reactions youâll have to bring to your grave.
You take his cock in your hand, trying to swallow back the slutty amount of saliva in your mouth. Sam whimpers. A real, desperate sound, with his nails stinging down your arms and everything.
âKnow you wanted to slow down,â you struggle between open-mouthed pants, âb-butâcanâtâdonât wanna waitââ
Sam physically curls towards you, his hips seizing into your hand and his arms hooking around your shoulders. Youâre dragged in for a sloppy kiss so deep you swear it melds your souls together. Sam is just as affected, rumbling like a racecar in approval.
âThen donât.â He begs.
If this was any other night, Sam would just take. Youâd be face down and drilled halfway through the mattress by now, no preamble, all business. He got off and you got off and everyone was happy that way. Sam would want the room dark and you would hide your face in the bedding, the two of you eager to touch and experience but terrified of breaking the illusion. Heâs so generous that you suppose heâs got to have at least one place in life where heâs selfish, and youâre happy to be his outlet for it, but.
Youâve never seen him take this way before.
He looks at you and he never really stops, transfixed. You donât doubt you could walk in a circle around him and Samâs eyes would follow you the whole way, his gaze oozing with longing and something elseâresolution? Faith? You push him onto the bed, and he drops down as if hobbling into a pew for the first time, unsure how to clasp his hands in prayer because itâs only ever been something done in his head before.
You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
âGod,â Sam utters, spellbound.Â
Youâre blushing so hard that you forget to be sexy as you crawl into his lap, but Sam doesnât care, still giving you those big slow doe blinks to express his love. Itâs so different from the Sam you know (yet also so deeply, deeply him) that you forget what it means to be sexy entirely. He coaxes you closer to plant tender kisses under your chin, and the plan to seductively peel off your sweater for him and flash him your tits blips out of existence.
You wait for the moment when Sam shreds the Stanford sweater off you. Instead, those wonderful fucking hands tease under the hem to squeeze your waist, and Sam croaks out between kisses, âShould wear this all the time. Youâre beautiful in anything, but this⊠youâre⊠mmn.â
Your heart gives a pathetic flutter. You press mindless kisses against his mouth and rock your bare core down on his lap, because heâs never acted this way before and you donât know how else to return the favor. âNot nearly as beautiful as you, Sammy.â
The only reaction you get from him is a single huff out of his nose, like itâs something he canât commit a whole laugh to. Like none of that matters anymore, like it would never matter for Sam, because his body may be beautiful, but it hardly belongs to him anymore. God, youâre shitty at compliments.
Youâre fucking wonderful, you suddenly want to tell him. A whole swarm of little truths and sweet nothings roars straight up to the surface of your mind, a whole sea of better things you could say to him, but then one of those perfect hands is slipping between your legs and Samâs asking you in that perfect, tinted glass voice, âYou still on the pill?â
âYes, doctor,â you tease.
Another flood of sticky heat rushes between your legs, because that question is always a precursor to being pressed into and filled and stuffed end-to-end by Samâs dick. The one barrier that doesnâtâdidnât exist between you.
âGood,â Sam sighs, relieved, grateful. He never turned down going raw in the past, but heâs downright starved for it right now. Closer closer closer, his whole body begs.
Youâre tugged in by a big hand hooked around your back, and you fall right into Samâs summer-warm, sweat-sticky chest, giggling. He loops both arms around your middle and teddy-bear squeezes even more laughter out of you. The only way to hold yourself up is by planting two hands on his shoulders⊠which turns into his cupping his neck⊠then caressing his face, because itâs impossible to be witness to that quiet boyish grin and not shower him in affection. Thereâs all these little freckles on him that you can only see up close. He feels good, mystical good, prophetic-chosen-one type good.
This is the moment. You can feel the blood in your body pounding between your legs, and Samâs cock bumps not-so-innocently against your core as you kiss one another. Every shift of his hands sends your muscles clenching tight, bracing for impact, but Sam doesnât push into you just yet.
Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he says, âJust let me feel you for a second.â
And, obviously, youâre not an idiot, so you let Sam feel you for as long as he pleases. For the next ten uninterrupted minutes, you makeout like lovesick teenagers, whimpering and sighing and swallowing every sound the other makes. Youâd always pegged him as a romantic. But seeing it, feeling it, adds a whole new dimension to him you hadnât realized youâd been craving.
By the time the pool of need in your gut has opened up into a blackhole, Sam has caressed or squeezed or kissed every part of you ten times over. He continues to be weird and obsessed with you. (So still in character, then). Sam even pinches the ends of your ears and smooths his thumbs over the bumps of your ankles, being sexy about it but also a little terrifying. He touches you like heâs never gonna see you again.
Around the time that Sam starts suckling marks into your neck and trying to tickle you under your arms, you giggle out, âO-Okayâokay! Enoughâ!â
âEnough what?â Sam cocks his head. His hand makes another dive for your belly, making you shriek and squirm with more giggles. You try to wriggle away to protect your tickling sides, but Samâs too strong and youâre a little in love with him, so itâs easy for him to pull you flush against him and blow tingly-warm breaths beside your ear. He purrs, âYou need it that badly?â
âFucking yes! So quit torturing me,â you pant, and youâre pretty sure this grin is going to get stuck on your face.
Samâs smile gets even bigger. âOnly if you say please.â
Your attitude slips from your grip like water. Next time, youâll play push and pull with him, but right now there needs to be a lot more pushing and pulling in a different context.
The words are out of your mouth in an instant. âPlease, Sam.â
As reluctant as he is to stop teasing you, Samâs a little in love, too. He leans back enough to fist his cock in one hand, and you canât help how your breath hitches when Samâs touch follows the curve of your ass to where youâre soaked and sensitive for him. Those thick, maddening fingers spread you open. The velvety tip of his cock finds your hole right away, and your legs nearly give out when Sam starts to swipe himself up and down your folds one dizzying stroke at a time. BackâŠ. and forth. Up⊠and down. Jesus fucking Christ.
âOkay, fineâŠâ He concedes, his eyes glittering with joy. âYouâre just so cute when you act all tough.â
Maybe not all of your attitude is gone. You bark out a laugh, telling him, âI hate you.â
Sam presses down for the last time, then presses in. You donât mean to look into his eyes when he fills you up, and thatâs probably what does you in. Samâs rosy face flutters and twists with pleasure, but he never stops looking at you, not even once, terrified to miss even a small moment. The long hitching moan that slips out of you makes his whole face darken with desire. Youâre pulled onto him deeper and deeper and deeper untilâclick. Cue the angel choir.
Your fingers dig desperately into his hair. Sam curls into you in one slow pulling movement, a thread pulled taut, until his face is stuffed in your neck and his hands are mindlessly scrabbling down your back.
âGod, I love you,â he moans.
Soon your pussy feels achy and hair-trigger-sensitive and beyond full, which could mean that youâre all the way on him. Itâs impossible to tell, since the first full minute of having Samâs dick inside you sends you straight to the moon every time, where everything falls in peaceful slow-motion and the whole world hums with cosmic, sparkling pressure. You shove your face into him and nuzzle in a daze, little ripples of electricity sparking up your spine.
âŠWait.
âWhat?â You register, slow.
Sam is still clutching you for dear life, even if the momentâs slowed and youâre both comfortable. He hugs you full-bodied, nose in your neck, tilted forward, the kind of hug where he sways you side to side with joy. Sam sucks in a harsh breath. Canât hold back anymore.
âI love you,â he gushes. The words burn out of him, declarative, overjoyed.
Thereâs so much you want to say to that. But then Sam digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you off his lap, only to gloriously sink you down the rest of the way, and. Fuck fuck fuck. His cock drags thick and hot against the pliant walls of your pussy. You couldnât be any more full if you tried, clamping down on him with long, silky ripples of pressure that outline the shape of him inside you in obscene detail. Itâs the kind of mind-blowing thatâs beyond comprehension, beyond feeble human understanding. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper into his hair.
âGod, I love you,â he chants again through grit teeth. âSo much. So fucking much.â
You find his face with your hands and kiss him quiet, tasting the promise in his mouth. When you part and the two of you really start to move, you kiss him again, and again, whispering where only he can hear, âI-I love you too.â
It should scare you how easily the confession slips out. You should be terrified, because even if you live to see next week, or next month, or next year, even if Sam isnât saying yes to Lucifer, those words are a death sentence. And yet.
âI-I miss you,â you choke out, âI need you.â
âMe too. So much,â Sam soothes, his voice tight and sharp with restraint. You know his instinct is to jackhammer up into you and never stop, but he puts in effort to resist, letting you both marinate in the wonderful, glistening, twitchy feeling of each other. His hands are rubbing your back and he is so fucking warm, turning the rain outside to steam.
He doesnât bounce you on his dick. Itâs more of a slow, cresting drag, waves stroking a beach. You donât think you could handle much more than that, anywayâsometimes these positions make him feel big enough to pop you like a balloon. What you canât fit on your own, your weight pushes you down onto anyway, turning your whole body into a big expanding bubble of pressure ready to burst at any moment. You clutch at his shoulders and just throb around him for a second.
âNuh-uh,â Sam leans away, not letting you shove your face in him like you want. Instead, a big hand cups one side of your neck and keeps you in front of him. âWanna see your face. Look at me. Look at me,â he insists, genuinely pleading.
When your eyes find his, thatâs when he decides to snap up into you for real. You donât even get a full look at him. The arm slung around your waist drags you up off your wobbling knees, then slams you down into a beautiful, endless white space popping with color.
âSammy!â You choke.
Thatâs the magic word. Youâre instantly thrust up into four more lightning-fast times, one-two-three-four, and hitch out four squeaky gasps to match. Samâs eyes bore into yours with every beat, blazing with liquid love. For a second you wonder if youâve fallen back into your rough routine again. But then words and thoughts melt out of your brain altogether, because Sam draws you into the tenderest, sweetest kiss human beings are capable of, fucking into you deep and smooth with that deeper, smoother voice, âKeep saying that.â
Sammy Sammy Sammy, you rattle out under your breath. Sam hisses out your name the exact same way.
You do your best to help him out a little, bobbing up and down in his lap, butâs a drop of water in the ocean for him. All Sam cares about is seeing your reaction. He soaks up everything you do like a sponge, moaning when you moan, gritting his teeth when you bite your lip, grinding up as you stir down. The weight of his eyes on you is so heavy that your skin stings in its wake. Again, itâs Samâs brand of freak-sweetness that makes you get stupid notions in your head about wedding rings and anniversary presents. But thatâsâ
âŠsomething he knows about. Something he just said to you five minutes ago. Above the haze of bouncing, rhythmic pleasure, youâre flooded with relief. You can tell him! Holy fuck, you can tell him!
âI love you,â you gasp out again, and just saying it feels like it could save the world. âO-oh, god, Samââ
The breath you have left is stolen from you by another fierce kiss from him, so passionate it lets you taste the bassy, happy hum that rumbles in Samâs throat. Youâre devoured by feverish kisses for a full minute, then Sam pops off you to sob, âSo muchâso fucking much, yes.â
He slips a hand between the two of you to thumb your clit, stirring in and never once stopping. Every so often heâll brush up against where youâre hot and filled to the hilt with him, your bodies sliding together with slick, filthy noises that are soâso fucking much that your thighs cramp up, protesting the constant pistoning. But the pleasure is easily worth the burn. Your core booms with long echoes of pleasure that shudder through the trembling spiderwebs that make up your nerves. You make a move to lean back on your hands and switch up the angle, (since youâre a damn good cowgirl, thank you very much), but Sam refuses to stop kissing you. He physically pulls you back in with a hand fished around your neck and kisses you breathless, determined to pound you to your climax one thorough snap of his hips at a time.
âSo beautiful,â Sam gushes. His voice is hoarse and thready, like heâs moments away from bursting into tears of pure desire.
You smooth your hands down his flushed cheeks, telling him between huffy moans, âItâs okay, sâ okay, Sammy⊠so pretty⊠love you so muchâŠâ
You feel him pull the Stanford sweater up over your ass and out of his way, exposing more, more, more of your bare skin for him to touch. Sam palms the slope of your back and your belly in a daze, but thatâs still not enoughâheâll never be satisfied with how little of you heâs had. He wants more. He wants forever. You embrace each other to the fullest, cheeks smushed together, chests flush, his parted lips claiming your throat, making you hisâbut. Samâs breath ratchets up. Not enough not enough not enoughâ
In one ragged motion, Sam rolls you both over, tossing you back-first onto the bedding and smothering you with his weight.
A squeal of delight jumps out of you. âHey!â
If Sam wasnât all over you before, then he literally is now, dropping onto his elbows so he can cup your face in both hands and surround you completely. âSorry,â he croaks, âneed you. Need to fill you up.â
You whisper against his lips, âThen fill me up already.â
His thumbs press into your cheeks a little. Samâs breath fans across your face, throttled by the lump in his throat.
âTell me you love me again.â
Um. You donât exactly have the sexy heat of the moment to hide behind this time, but you still want to say it for him. His eyes swim with something unreadable. Desire and love, enough love to put a lump in your throat too, but a third thing also. It worries you.
You bring your hands up to stroke his wrists, and give a bit too much of your soul to him when you promise, â...I love you, Sam.â
The words hit him like a bullet. Sam shudders from head to toe, unable to reign himself in any longer, and plants a long, surging kiss on your mouth that makes your belly flash with nuclear levels of lust. He squirms his hands underneath your body so he can cradle you against himâgenuinely cradling, one palm cupping the back of your neckâand then burrows into you face-first, groaning your name as his cock nestles itself as deep as it can go.
With all of his weight on top of you, you couldnât move if you wanted to. You caress and kiss and dig your nails into him, and somewhere along the way youâre given a dose of whatever has made him fucking insane for you right now. It fogs your head and turns your reason to ash, so when Sam returns to ruining you for any other man, you whimper, âPlease donât leave me.â
âOh, baby,â Sam hiccups out, and something strange hangs in his voice.
You would ask him whatâs wrong, but the shuddering, flimsy scraps left of your brain are busy being blasted all over by white-hot pleasure. Everything scorches. Samâs bare skin and his breath and his hands feel fucking molten, melting you down like hot glass. Youâre pinned down in every possible way, and it pushes the sinking, gorgeous pressure inside you all over your body, like itâs not just Samâs cock filling you up, but him, just him, the source of all good in the world. Holy fucking fuck. His hips glide back and then thud back into you again and again and again. You get why itâs called making love, now. You can taste your love for him in the back of your throat, feel it sitting in a sticky film on your skin. It hangs like humidity in the air of your apartment. And jesus christ, it bleeds from Sam, glowing off him like fucking radiation.
When youâre shamelessly wailing gut-deep in ecstasy, Sam peels himself off you. He forces himself to sit up. His chest putters up and down with desperate little breaths, and a gloriously big hand scoops under your thigh and welds it against your chest. Whatever he sees from this new angleâprobably your wet, abused pussy stretched tight around the full base of his cockâmakes Sam gape, utterly transfixed. You watch as his mouth falls open, and then those dark, soul-swallowing eyes crawl up your body to meet yours.
âKeep lookinâ at me,â Sam rasps.
Even if he doesnât sway your opinion with a few dizzying, stomach-deep drags of his cock, (which he does), youâre convinced. You lock eyes with himâand then suddenly feel stupid for not watching him the whole time. A long curl of hair hangs in his eyes and sways as he fucks into you. His expression flutters with these sinful little giveaways, exposing just how starved he is for you, how in love. Maybe if youâd looked back sometime in the past five years, thatâs what you wouldâve seen: how much this has always meant to him. He searches your face for the same pleasure, obsessed with his effect on you.Â
âFuck,â you shudder out. âC-could cum just watchinâ you, Sammy.â
âThatâs right,â he hisses, and youâve never heard him sound so damn happy. âCum for me. Please. Look so pretty when you do.â
Usually, when he makes you cum, itâs the roughest part of the whole act. Heâd get both your wrists pretzeled behind your back and pinned viciously in one of his hands, and thatâs when youâd know the big finish was coming. His pace would go from bouncing to bruising. But this Sam, your Sam, would stop time if he could, so he slows down even further, winding you closer and closer to the top of the mountain with little figure-eights of his hips. He gazes down at you the same way youâre sure you must gaze up at him. Beautiful, he murmurs under his breath.
You utter another, tight, almost-sob of, âlove you so much, Sammy,â and his dick twitches wildly shoved in you to the hilt.
âOhhâshit,â he chokes out, and his other hand snaps desperately towards yours on the bed. They find each other easily, and you squeeze his hand with everything youâve got, infusing in him all the love heâs infused in you.
The slow, mounting tsunami of perfection youâve been moving towards finally overcomes you, and in one long gorgeous slippery rush you cum for Sam. And because your life is a movieâhe cums for you too. He rocks faster and falls forward to kiss you, your faces pressed together, your mouths slotting against each other, your pussy squeezing down on him in golden rippling strokes. Sam hisses your name out between his teeth as he cums. Youâre lanced straight through by a whole fucking universe of fluttering, flickering pleasure. To be honest, youâre a little pissed about itâbecause itâs the best fucking orgasm youâve had in your entire life, and itâs all because Sam raggedly chants those words to you again and again, laying sloppy, obsessive, head-over-heel kisses all over your face. Love you love you so much baby you feel so good squeezinâ down on me.
You couldâve had this ages ago. How much more time could you have had with him, if you had just stopped being stupid?
Samâs crazed, sobbing, hitching I love yous somehow become, in true Sam fashion, a low spiral of thank yous. He lays there and clutches you until thereâs a Sam-shaped imprint in your body. Youâre pretty sure he would stay inside you all night if he could, but you coax him into some cuddling instead, since you both are in desperate need. Itâs. Itâs new, but it feels cleansing in the holy way.
What feels like hours later, your brain dimly connects to the rest of your body. Youâre halfway through detangling Samâs hair with your fingers as he hides face-first in your chest, pretending heâs not embarrassed that he cried. At least, thatâs what you assume. The Winchester mind is a mysterious one, and as much as you would hope to know what Samâs thinking, the slow hand drawing circles on your hip tells you nothing. Is he shy that he got emotional? That seems silly, since you both sobbed into each other earlier. Is he embarrassed about everything he confessed? Does he regret it?
Just when your train of thought really starts to take the curves of your spiral hard, Sam tiredly croaks into your neck, âI meant what I said, yâknow.â
He draws in a lungful of your perfume through his nose, soaking up as much of you as he can possibly get. His hands smooth over your body, innocent and loving, caressing you, memorizing you, begging silently for forgiveness.Â
Sam is a dead-silent crier. But you hear him sniffle as he gushes, âGod, I love you.â
Maybe if you hadnât been so tired, you wouldâve picked up on it. Or maybe youâd heard it in his voice, seen it, something, and ignored it, hoping it was something else. Everything he felt, he put into a teeny, unmarked box that heâd bury god knows where, far from where anybody could be hurt by it. Sam didnâtâhe wouldnât say that to you. Not unless it was the last time he ever could. He would feel it, but itâd go right into that box where it couldnât hurt you. You shouldâve known.
Lie to me, youâd begged him.Â
âŠAnd Sam had.
_
The dull realization that you are awake sets in around noon. Noon as in after-noon, well past when youâre normally up and at emâ. When you wonder why the hell you slept in so late, you remember last nightâs rain, thrashing against the windows all night, and Sam, his face haloed by lamplight and bleeding with quiet resolution.
Sam. Alive, and not going to say yes.
Heâd been the one to keep you up all night. With his mouth and his hands, yes, but then afterward heâd been hellbent on talking. Just⊠talking. Youâd been sluggish and cozy and sated after having sex, but no matter how close you came to falling asleep, Sam wouldnât let it happen. For two straight hours he asked you every question he could come up with to keep you up with him.
Do you remember when we met? Causeâ I do. Do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what you thought about me? I remember thinking how similar we were, yâknow, how much weâd get along. You were so pretty⊠my whole face went red every time you looked at me. Do you rememberâŠ?
Being cuddled, kissed, and protected by the man you love really tempts a girl to doze off, too, so this was not an easy battle. But Sam persisted. He studied your face intently, uttering I love yous even when sleep started to pull you under. Hearing any Winchester drop those words on you still blew your fucking mind, to be honest. Sam especially. But it was romantic as it was worrying, so youâd shut him up with a kiss goodnight and echoed it back to him. Love you, Sammy. It was probably just an anxiety thing, you assumedâSam, for some fucking reason, was a pretty insecure guy, so you imagined that was his way of making sure you wanted all of this. He seemed⊠scared. He wasnât used to being wanted.
The apocalypse was still on. Maybe the world would end tomorrow, or maybe youâd get lucky and live a whole lifetime with Sam. Regardless, heâs never saying yes to Lucifer, and that alone means that thereâs still hope for the future. Youâre going to spend every second of it making Sam feel wanted.
Sitting up in bed, you scrubbed at your sleepy face with the heel of your hand and stared around the room. Sam was physically incapable of staying asleep after five in the morning, so the familiar evidence of his military-efficient morning routine was all over the place. You smiled to yourself. Heâd picked up after the two of you, and had tucked another blanket over you in your sleep. Stupid chivalrous dumbass.
To think, youâd been terrified youâd never see him again just last night.
You push out of bed, only to almost buckle onto the carpet rag-doll style. Even being torturously gentle, that man manages to make you sore. With a very, very happy groan, you hop (and wince) into some clean underwear, then traipse out into your kitchen to show that dork whoâs boss.
âDammit, Samuel, youâre not my maidââ you start to say, but of course, this is Sam, who wouldnât miss a morning run for anything. Right. That explains your empty kitchen.
âŠBut itâs afternoon. Sam would be back by now. Your gut prickles with a bad feeling, and you superstitiously sweep your apartment, looking for him. His clothes from last night are still sitting in your hamper, his shirt folded neatly in your dresser and his watch on your nightstand. A spike of nausea rolls through you seeing that his jacket is goneâand his boots. But his duffleâitâs. Itâs still on your kitchen table. It looks a little smaller than usual, but his books and his laptop are still inside. He probably just ran out to run some silly errand for you, determined to make up for worrying you so much. Yeah.
You force your hunterâs paranoia down to a simmer, padding over to your breakfast table. Thereâs a big olâ note smack dab in the center of it, perched on his half-open duffle bag, and you start to play with one of the bracelets Sam left behind as you pick it up.
You cross your fingers, smiling ear-to-ear. âCâmon. All bets on breakfast. Please be getting me breakfast, please be getting me breakfastââ
âŠThatâs not what the note says.
You read it.
Then you read it again, and the hammer falls, crushing the breath out of you and doubling you over the kitchen table. You read the note for the third time, needing to be sure, and the thin sliver of hope you hadâmaybe youâd just read it wrong, m-maybe he was fineâturns to ash. He wouldnât. He wouldnât.
Youâre fighting back a surge of ugly, choking tears in an instant. Heâs⊠Sam⊠heâŠ
Your whole apartment lingers with the heat and goodness of him, like heâd been here just minutes ago. Just seconds. Even your clothes still smell like Sam. Just inhaling it tears chunks out of your reason, likeâlike youâd just missed him. Clawing around for something to do, you pace in a daze between your bedroom and the front door, desperate to recreate the moment you realized he was gone. Youâre still just in the Stanford sweater and your underwear, but you donât give a single shit and go careening out into the hall, stalking up and down your floor for himâbecause, b-because Sam wouldnât, he wouldnât do that to youâhe would tell you first, he would never leave you in the dark like thisâ
âŠBut you know Sam. And if it meant fixing his mistakes, saving you, saving everyone⊠Then heâd say yes in a heartbeat.
âThese belong to you. You deserve a world to live in. Iâm sorry - Sam.â
- tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1@lacilou@cevans-winchester @leigh70@ seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1
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. Û« êŁà§ . dating hcs <3
by candyfsh
including; dallas winston, melvin moody, richie white (those are my favs)
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
dallas winston ౚà§
đŠč ik everybody says that dally would be suuuper toxic and a rlly bad boyfriend,, but hear me out. he would literally hate everyone but you.
đŠč he buys you things and steals you things, about 50/50
đŠč he isn't one for cuddling or anything but he'll definitely play with your hair and hold your head gently if you're snuggled beside him or on his chestđ
đŠč he isn't huge on pda,, but he always keeps an arm around you or kisses your face and head and lips constantly
đŠč he also uses extra pda at parties. just letting everyone know you're dating him đđ
đŠč he will NOT ever let you put makeup on him, but he does let you put chapstick on for him. he likes how gentle you are even if it's just chapstick đ
đŠč always brags about you
đŠč "yeah man that's cool but my gf is soooo hot đ"
đŠč he likes to go over to your house whenever he can because you make him feel safe
đŠč he won't admit that though. never.
đŠč but it's also lowk obvious?? bc he's always hanging around you and making sure you're close to him
đŠč im being so fr he thought he wouldn't trust or love anyone again after sylvia then BOOM he met you and he's like OMG.
melvin moody ౚà§
đŠč he loves you and makes it known omg
đŠč like ofc he cares about his reputation?? he js loves you sooooo much and whenever he sees you he's like woah that's my gf!!!
đŠč when you're sitting next to each other literally anywhere, he has to be touching you just to like confirm you're there or something???
đŠč he's holding your hand, his arm is around your shoulder, his hand is in your lap, your head is on his shoulder, he's playing with your hair, his arm is around your waist, whateves!!! he just loves touching you
đŠč he's still a tough guy ofc,,, but in school, it's kinda like lowkey slowed down
đŠč but he'll still punch someone if they made you uncomfortable whatsoever
đŠč i personally think moody would be big on cuddling đ
đŠč he loves to spoon you omg!!!
đŠč moody feels like he can truly be himself around you (including letting his hair not be greased up. you love to see his hair ungreased)
đŠč he gets you gifts sometimes with the money he's gotten from kids but he refuses to EVER tell you where he got the money
đŠč PET NAMES PET NAMES PET NAMES!!! đđđ
đŠč "baby" "sweetie" "hottie" "cutie" everything.
đŠč you and moody are literally so in love and so adorable and all his friends tease him about being so whipped but he's all like "damn right i am"
richie white ౚà§
đŠč this little baby is so cute and loves you sm
đŠč my personal hc is that richie has never had a gf,, he just flirts with every girl he sees
đŠč so you're basically each other's first everything in a relationship. it's really sweetđ.
đŠč he alwaayyyss brags to you about a new crime he committed. especially the time he broke into a bike shop.
đŠč whenever some girl flirts with him in the rec center he's all like "yeah yeahh i got a beautiful girl i ain't interested"
đŠč AND YES HE REFERS TO YOU AS HIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL ALWAYS đđ
đŠč "ysee my beautiful girl over there??" "she's my beautiful girl" "i got the most beautiful girl ever"
đŠč bc this is his first relationship that's more than just kissing and flirting, he wants to prove himself to you that he's more than a juvenile delinquent
đŠč (but he'll never stop being one)
đŠč he doesn't know what to do for dates so he takes you to the rec or a walk around town or his lil spot with carl
đŠč speaking of carl, he's sooooo sick of hearing about you
đŠč y/n this y/n that,,, my man richie just loves you!!!
đŠč btw he calls you the dumbest pet names in public to tease you, like sugarplum and honeybee
đŠč he will never get over the fact that YOU chose HIM of all people. like he's confident in himself,, he's just like "omg she's so perfect why is she with me"
đŠč that's why he makes sure to never take you for granted
đŠč if richie has his hands anywhere on you, his hand is probably in your back pocket. not like in a perverted way or anything,, he just likes it there đđ
đŠč his arms are almost always around your shoulders too
đŠč he's very touchy
đŠč you + richie = forever
#candyfsh#dallas winston#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston x y/n#melvin moody#melvin moody x reader#melvin moody x y/n#richie white#richie white x reader#richie white x y/n#guys i think i like richie.....#but hes so cute i love him#i love him sm#hes so cutie#I LOVE MATT DILLON IN GENERAL#im probably gonna write a richie fic based on some of these hcs
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âHow they would comfort youâ â JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.
GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3
________
GOJO
gojo is so unserious please
if weâre talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.
atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:
angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing
âPlease?â
âNo.â
âCâmooonââ
âI said no.â
Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. âYouâre no fun.â
You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours⊠You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well⊠You had hope, atleast.
âIâm literally having the shittiest day and youââ
He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.
âWhat are you doing?â You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.
âLooking.â
âFor what?â
âI dunno.â
âYouâre hopeless.â
The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldnât lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojoâs unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.
âW-Why the⊠Just why?â You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.
âI would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.â
âFuck you.â
________
NANAMI
the BEST comforter, hands down
tbh iâll say this honestly rn,,, i wasnât a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better
puts YOU firsthand, no objections
if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands
âI can take care of myself, yâknow?â you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanamiâs strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.
He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.
âOne cough and you think this is the end of the world!â
âThat one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,â he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.
âYou always think you can handle yourself,â he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. âIf you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that⊠HoweverâŠâ
He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.
â⊠At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.â
________
MEGUMI
this hoe istg
hoe in a loving way by the way, pls donât track me down
BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. itâs charming, to say the least.
itâs like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didnât even notice them at first
You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.
âWeâve been walking for ages,â he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.
âNo waitâ Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?â you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.
A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.
âHurry up. I found the cafĂ© you were trying to find.â
You didnât notice the same cafĂ©âs address was in his phoneâs search bar, though.
________
YUJI
LORDDDDDDD
golden retriever boyfriend right here
so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot
i feel like heâd be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you
You were over at Yujiâs house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasnât going so well.
âFuck!â you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. âI got the same character pull again!â
Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you werenât so lucky.
âThereâs no hopeâŠâ You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.
âCan I try?â he asks with a wide, toothy smile.
You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. âI only have like⊠One pull left, but knock yourself out.â
He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, beforeâ
âIs this a good character?â
Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character youâve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.
âHuh?!â you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling overâ One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.
âIâm guessing heâs good! Judging that reaction of yoursââ
âFuck off,â you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.
________
an; so basic but so cute đ«¶
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader
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let me take care of you
Rex x F!Reader
word count: 5.7k
description: you have been suffering from depression for a few months and have shut yourself off from the world. a few weeks after getting laid off from your job, you get an unexpected knock at the door.
warnings: i'm gonna say this is 16+ just to be safe, heavily implied sex, depiction of depression, suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining - let me know what I've missed !
a/n: okay so this is sooooo self-indulgent it's actually embarassing. I wrote the first bit of this when I was truly going through it and... yeah, it's just Rex taking care of the reader hehe, with a bit of suggestive stuff but not proper smut. if that's your kinda thing, I hope you enjoy! (also this is the first oneshot that I've actually posted so gimme constructive criticism pls !!)
Everything felt foggy.
For the past months, your life had felt like you were just going through the motions. Wake up, go to work, come home, struggle to sleep, and repeat. You didn't enjoy the things you used to anymore. It had been too long since you had taken a walk in the park, since you had sketched or written, and it hurt that you couldn't seem to even try and do them. Like there was an invisible force stopping you, and yet, there wasn't. It was just your own mind, lacking in whatever hormone would make you happy.
You couldn't find it in yourself to take care of yourself properly, and ever since being laid off from your job a few weeks ago, you had gone into the worst of it. You weren't eating properly, you couldn't sleep, sometimes staying up all night even though you would lay in your bed and just pray for it to be different. You hadn't seen your friends in months, though they would try and check in on you. You always told them you were busy, but you knew they knew what was going on. You had been like this before, though this time it was worse.
You shut yourself off from the world.
You hadn't been out of your apartment at all in days when you heard the knock. You made your way to your front door, and your breath hitched when you peered through the little hole and saw who was behind it.
Rex.
The clone stood in the hallway, his helmet at his hip, looking down the hall, and handsome as ever. There was no way you were letting him in while you were in this state. You hadn't brushed your hair in maker knows how long, you hadn't showered in⊠maybe a week? and the last time you had brushed your teeth was probably 2 days ago. Your personal hygiene was sorely lacking.
You watched the Captain through the door, your breath fogging up the glass, and jumped back when the knocking of the door reverberated around your small apartment.
What is he doing here?
You hadn't seen Rex since you lost your job, though he was among the few people who checked in with you regularly, trying to ask about how you were or convince you to come out of the house. Your stomach churned at the idea of people fussing about you, and now one of them was standing outside your door. A particular one of them that, in any given other state, you would be dying to see.
Your deep attraction and affection for Rex only made this situation more uncomfortable for you, the thought of answering the door making you feel physically sick.
You then heard your name called from behind the door in a deep, questioning voice, and your knees went weak.
âAre you in there?â He asked, followed by another knock.
You wanted to reply, to say anything, but you couldn't find your voice. What would I say? You elected to just go back to your bed, let him leave on his own, and pretend he was never here.
You scooted backwards but caught your hip on a table, sending a pile of your precious books hurtling to the floor. You held your breath, hoping Rex had not heard the noise, but it was no use.
Rex called your name again, and this time, it was gentler, ââŠPlease let me inâ
Your eyes watered as you walked up to the door, your finger hovering over the button that would cause it to slide open.
âI'm fine Rex, you can goâ You tried to sound as resolute as you could, but the quiver in your voice was obvious.
âCyare⊠let me in. I'm not leavingâ
The nickname hit you hard, and you truly felt like clutching your chest as it pulled at the part of you that desired the clone on the other side of the door like no other.
You had met Rex years ago, at the job you had recently been let go from, working as a civilian medic on Coruscant.
The Captain could rarely be convinced by his brothers to take himself to the medbay, much more of the suffer in silence type. However, once you had begun working there, he had started making trips there for every little bump and scratch, and sometimes even when he was in perfect health, he would go claiming a cold or headache. He had always had a soft spot for you, and though he'd never admit it, he made it obvious. Everyone around him knew, everyone around you knew, but for whatever reason, you hadn't cottoned on at all.
He found you exceedingly beautiful, obviously intelligent, and just the most wonderful and bright spark of a person he'd ever met. Though, that was far from what you were feeling like at the moment.
You had also been enamoured by the Captain from the very start. The moment he walked into the medbay and made eye contact with you, you were done for. Whether it was his loyalty to his men, his commanding presence, or his wonderful smile that did it, you didn't know, but you were kriffed from the beginning.
âI can't let you inâ You said, leaning your forehead into the door.
âWhy not?â He said in a hushed tone that you could barely hear.
âI- I'm just not feeling well okay?â You choked out, vastly minimising the issue.
âI dont mind Cyare, just let me in. Pleaseâ He begged, but you just shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.
You and Rex had grown into good friends quite naturally. In his needless visits to the med bay, he would often stay after hours and help you clean up, and you would fall into conversation about anything and everything. You shared many opinions about a variety of topics and would talk about your respective favourite things. Rex found that he learned a great deal about the wider galaxy from you, and he could hear you talk about art for hours upon end.
You were a fantastic artist, absolutely brilliant in any media, but Rex loved your sketches the most. You had brought him to your apartment once after work, when he had practically begged to see your work. He liked the simplicity of it, creating life with just a few stokes of a pencil. Your drawings held such character, such joy, such sorrow, and Rex thought that they were always so uniquely you. For that, he loved them.
âRex I-â You didn't know what to say. You sank to your knees on the floor, letting your tears silently fall down your cheeks.
âPleaseâŠâ He said one more time, and you finally broke.
You reached up and pressed the button, and the door zipped open to reveal your defeated posture to him. You dared not look up at him. You didn't want him to see you like this at all, but the thought of looking him in the eye when you knew how dishevelled, how weak you looked, you couldn't stomach it.
âOh Cyareâ He said softly and closed the door behind him, sinking to his knees in front of you. He tentatively placed a hand on your knee and began rubbing his thumb back and forth. âWhat's happened? You haven't been in the medbay for weeksâ
âI was laid offâ You replied quietly.
âWhat? Why would they do that?â He asked, genuinely confused. You were a talented medic. He could see no reason for it.
âMoney is tight. We are at war after allâ You chuckled a little bit, knowing that much was obvious to Rex.
âWhat are you upset about? I'm sure there's somewhere else that would take you, you're a great medicâ He asked so innocently that you could almost laugh.
âIt's not about thatâŠâ You sighed, running a hand over your face, still looking down.
âWhat is it about?â Rex said softly, shuffling forwards so his armoured knees touched your bare ones.
âI just⊠I can't do it anymore Rexâ You whispered, the first time you had freely admitted it to anyone before.
Rex tensed up. He brought his other hand up and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes already told him the answer to the question he was about to ask, âCan't do what?â
âIt. Life. Anything. I just want to disappearâ You said, choking on your tears and overwhelmed by the thoughts that weighed you down. Rex's amber irises burned into yours with such an intensity, but not for long, as his arms made their way around your body, and he pulled you into his lap.
You cried into his chest, with him stroking your hair and holding you close to him with the other arm, scared that you would somehow get your wish and disappear in his arms.
He was at a loss for words. He couldn't understand how someone he thought was so wonderful and incredible could be harbouring such hateful feelings about themself. He feared saying anything that would upset you, and the last thing he wished to do was deny how you were feeling by telling you that you were wrong, so he just held you in his arms, silently letting you know he was there for you, no matter what. The sound of your crying was making his heart break, but he stayed like that until it died down.
âHow long have you been feeling like this?â He asked tentatively, drawing back and holding your jaw so he could see your face.
âI dont know⊠four or five months, maybe?â You replied, and it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.
How had he not noticed anything was wrong? He felt like he had failed you, that your friendship was for nought if he couldn't even tell when you were upset. He didn't place any of the blame on you, but he had to askâŠ
âWhy didn't you tell me?â
You sighed, âI didn't want to concern you with it. It's for me to deal withâ
âWhat? It's not just for you to deal with, of course I'd want to know if you're not okay. I'm so sorry I didn't noticeâ He said, his tone so heavy with guilt.
âIt's okay, it makes sense that you didn'tâ
Rex almost took offence to the comment, but the small smile on your lips didn't evade him, âWhy does it make sense?â
âUh, I guess I was always happy around youâ You admit, âYou- Uh weâre good friends, you know? I like spending time with youâ
Despite the comment about being friends, Rex's heart soared, âI like spending time with you too Cyareâ
âWhy are you calling me that all of a sudden?â You asked. You knew what it meant, you'd spent enough time among the clones, and it was impossible to escape when you overheard their unabashed flirting on your few trips to 79s.
âUmâ Rex gulped, not feeling like right now was the best time to admit that he was wildly in love with you, âI don't know, I care about you, you know? Like you said, we're good friendsâ
You nodded, seeming satisfied with the explanation, and Rex breathed out a shaky breath.
âI'm sorry you had to see me like thisâ You looked down, playing with your fingers as heat rose to your cheeks.
âIt's fine, I really don't mind. Besides, you still look good to meâ He said, and your eyes snapped back up to his instantly, your breath becoming short. Rex thinks I look good?
âThanks Captainâ You grinned shyly, your face feeling positively on fire at the compliment.
âIt's no problemâ He smiled, then he became more serious, âHave you eaten today?â
âUh- noâ You looked away again, feeling ashamed.
âAlright, let me fix you some food thenâ He readjusted his hold on you and picked you up, setting you down on your couch. Your head was spinning from the intimacy of feeling his breath fanning over your face.
âI don't really have any food hereâ You admitted sheepishly.
âOkay, how about this thenâ He crouched by the couch so that his eyes were level with yours, âWhy don't you go and have a shower, do whatever you need to feel a bit better, and I'll go out and get us some foodâ
âRex⊠I can't ask you to do that for meâ You spoke hesitantly, but he shook his head.
âYou're not asking, and in fact, neither am Iâ He said with a playful glint in his eye, âGo and freshen up, that's an order soldierâ
You giggled at him and took the hand that he offered to help you up.
âYes sirâ You saluted him and marched off in the direction of the refresher, earning a laugh from the clone.
You stepped into the refresher and looked yourself in the eye for probably the first time in days. You did not look good. Your eyes held bags that looked so heavy that they could weigh down the skin they inhabited, your hair was a complete mess, and your skin was dull and lifeless.
You sighed, grabbed your hairbrush, and decided to start there. It took a few minutes, but soon, your hair was completely knot-free, and you stripped off and stepped into the shower. You took your time finding the perfect temperature, which ended up being almost scalding hot. You leaned your elbows against the wall, letting the water hit your back and relieving some of the tension you could feel there.
Now that you were actually in the shower, you didn't feel like leaving at all. Though, the idea of Rex being outside the door when you finished was enough for you to quickly wash yourself and your hair and hop out again. You brushed your teeth twice and moisturised your clean skin. Looking in the mirror, you looked a lot better than you did before you went in the shower, and you were eternally thankful for that. If you were going to see the person you had been in love with for years, you only wanted to look your best.
You stepped out of the refresher and headed for your bedroom with your dirty clothes in hand.
âHey, are you-â
You jumped out of your skin when you saw Rex stood in the living area with a bag in hand, and he did too when he saw you with only a towel wrapped around you. Your eyes went wide, and you wrapped the towel tighter around your body on instinct, only fueling the less-than-pure thoughts that were spilling into Rex's brain. You looked so incredible, your hair dripping water over your body, which was seemingly glistening with its new cleanliness, and your towel left little to the imagination.
âUm yeah, you're out, cool, uh- I'll let you get dressedâ He turned around and cursed silently to himself for being so awkward.
You just chuckled nervously, feeling utterly mortified, and made your way to your room as intended. You found a fresh oversized t-shirt and pair of soft shorts and slipped into them quickly, rejoining Rex in the other room.
He had taken off the top half of his armour, leaving just his blacks, the Republic insignia adorned proudly on his chest. The tightness of the top showed off his toned physique as if he wasn't even wearing anything, and you had to tear your eyes away from it.
âWhat did you get?â You asked quietly, sitting down next to him on the couch.
âNoodles, is that okay?â He asked, looking to you a little nervously.
You chucked at his demeanour, which was decidedly un-captain-like as he looked to you for approval, âIt's perfect, thank youâ
You both picked up the boxes that held your food and dug in, and your bodies turned to face each other as you rested against oppsite ends of the couch. It was good to have a proper meal, with actually nutritious foods. When you had eaten as of late, it had mostly been ration bars or random snacks you could find in your apartment. You hummed contentedly, and Rex smiled at you.
âGood?â
âMhmâ You smiled, swallowing a bite, âThank you Rexâ
âItâs alrightâ He said nonchalantly.
âI mean it, thank you for⊠taking care of meâ You said, then looked down, âI'm finding that difficult at the moment, so it means a lotâ
âCyareâ Rex moved towards you and placed a hand on your knee, âIt's really no trouble, I just want to see you feeling betterâ
You looked up at him and gave a tight lipped smile, âWell, thank you anywayâ
âNo problem. You look a little more alive now, by the wayâ He teased.
âHey! You're the one that said I looked good before, you cant take it back nowâ You challenged, and he smirked.
âI'm not taking it back. You just look even better nowâ He said, but his smirk dropped when you froze up at his comment.
âYou dont have to say that just to make me feel better, you knowâ You said, looking down and taking your final mouthful of noodles.
âI'm not just saying itâ He said quietly, and you looked up to see his light frown. You put down your food box as he continued to stare at you seriously.
âWhat is it?â You ask.
âIt's nothing, don't worry about itâ He said quickly and put his own food box down as he finished.
âRexâ You scooted closer to him so that your knees were almost touching, âWhat's the matter?â
âNothingâs the matterâ He avoided your eyes as he spoke, and you used the technique that he employed earlier on, gently taking his chin between your thumb and finger and guiding his gaze towards you.
âWhat is it?â You asked again, and his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes flicked between the two of yours.
âYou're so beautiful Cyareâ He said, tentatively placing his hand on your lower thigh.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the gentle touch, and you searched his eyes for any dishonesty but only found them to be as earnest as usual.
âI- I should've been telling you every day since I met youâ He said, his voice breaking just a little as he spoke so softly, âI shouldâve been telling you how much you mean to me, how much I care for you, how important you areâ He stroked his thumb back and forth on your thigh, sending tingles up your spine.
âRexâ You breathed out in a whisper, your hand sliding around to cup his sharp jaw. He leaned into your touch, and you felt as if you could melt at the sight.
âSay somethingâ He urged, his eyes pleading for a conformation that you felt the same way.
âI-â You didn't know what to say. You felt the same, but the words got caught in your throat. It felt wrong to truly admit to your affection for him after bottling it up for so long.
âRex, I've always cared for you, far more than a medic should care for their patientâ You admitted, and his eyes lit up.
âYou have?â He asked, and you nodded in reply.
âAnd for the record, I think you're beautiful tooâ You let a small grin creep its way onto your face.
âThatâs good to knowâ Rex smirked, bringing his other hand to your cheek.
He looked deeply into your eyes, the eyes that he always found so fascinating, and he leaned his forehead against yours before tilting his head towards your lips. You shivered with anticipation.
âIs this okay? I don't want to take advantage of you if you-â
âJust kiss me Rexâ You whispered against his lips, your eyes fluttering shut. He didn't delay after that. With your permission, he couldn't say no.
His lips met yours tentatively, as if testing the waters, but as soon as he felt you kiss him back, he pulled you in more urgently. His lips moved against yours, melding together as if it was how they were made to be. You felt your need for closeness growing, and you pulled him towards you as you deepened the kiss. Rex slid his hand up your thigh, resting it on your hip and tracing small circles with his thumb as his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he devoured your lips.
Rex pulled back, his teeth lingering on your bottom lip for a moment, and you both caught your breath.
âI can't tell you how long I've wanted to do thatâ You said, your breath still short.
Rex grinned widely, âYeah? I can guarantee it's probably not as long as I haveâ
âProbably notâ You chuckled, âUnless you somehow wanted to before you even looked at me for the first timeâ
Rex raised his eyebrows, âYou've wanted to kiss me the whole time we've known each other?â He asked, and you nodded your head shyly. âWhy didn't you say anything?â
âI dont know, I guess I just figured you wouldn't feel the sameâ You shrug.
Rex just shook his head with a smile and pulled you onto his lap âOh, how wrong you wereâ
âIs that right?â You smirked, âI'd love to hear all about just how wrong I wasâ
Rex smirked back at you, and placed a kiss to your cheek, âI've wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours ever since I laid eyes on youâ He confessed, and your breath hitched as he continued to place featherlight kisses along your jaw. âI thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seenâ He kissed down your neck slowly, gently nipping at you with his teeth at the point where your neck meets your shoulder, which earned a small whine from you, and you could feel him smirk.
âI've never felt the way I feel about you, about anyone elseâ He murmured against your skin, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your scent.
His words were driving you crazy. They were all you had ever wanted to hear from him, and here he was, speaking them aloud as he kissed your skin so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder.
âRexâ You whispered, and he looked up at you, waiting for you to continue.
âWhat is it, Mesh'la?â He whispered back, his lips ghosting yours. You shuddered in his arms, your eyes fluttering closed, and he watched your every move with anticipation.
âRex, I-â You leaned your forehead against his, needing an anchor before you spoke your next words, âI need youâ
Rex's heart skipped a beat. Possibly a few beats. âWhat do you mean, Cyare?â
âPlease, take me to the bedroomâ You asked, begged, and Rex took action immediately.
He held you to him as he stood up, and you wrapped your legs around him tightly. He made his way to your bed quickly and gently laid you onto your back, crawling over you so he was holding himself above your body.
âYou're sure about this, Cyare? If it's just a lapse in judgement because you're not in your right mind, I understand, no hard feelingsâ Rex stroked your cheek with his knuckles, looking into your eyes intently.
âRex, please. My judgement is just fine. I want you. I've always wanted youâ You said, the neediness so obvious in your tone. Rex's expression then settled somewhere between amusement and adoration.
âYou want me?â He smirked, his lips hovering just above yours.
âYesâ You spoke breathlessly.
âSay it againâ He commanded in a whisper, his amber eyes burning into your very soul.
âI want you, Rexâ
He breathed out a shaky breath and brought his lips to yours, speaking between chaste kisses, âYou have me, all of me. You always have. I've always been yoursâ
It was almost too much to hear. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you thought you'd made it all up.
âI've always been yours Rexâ You whispered against his lips, and his breath stuttered.
âYou're mine?â He asked in a murmur. The flame of desire burning in his eyes was clear.
âOnly yoursâ
He pressed his lips to yours with a newfound desperation, his hand trailing down your body and holding your hips in place as he slipped his leg between yours. You grasped at his body, your hands finding themselves underneath the top of his blacks, and he stopped kissing you to pull it off. You absolutely marvelled at the sight.
In all your time knowing Rex, mending up his various wounds, you had never had the honour of glimpsing at his form without a shirt on. You traced along a scar at the centre of his chest, âHow did you get this?â
âI was shotâ He shrugged with a grin.
âNo big deal for a big important Captain like you, I supposeâ You teased and matched his grin as he rolled his eyes.
âShut upâ He mumbled against your skin as he buried his head in your neck, leaving soft kisses and less soft bites. You struggled to keep small moans from escaping your lips at his touch, and Rex noticed you holding back. He wound his way up to your lips, pressing a short kiss to them before he spoke.
âDon't hold out on me cyar'ika, I want to hear youâ
You bit your lip and nodded at him, then kissed a trail across his strong jaw, earning a soft groan. As your kisses made their way down his neck, and you brought your hands to trail down his body, he groaned more deeply. The sound was driving you insane. Before you could breach the top of his blacks, Rex gathered your wrists in his hand and held them above your head, your eyes blown wide with desire and longing, your breath ragged.
Rex just looked at you for a moment, committing the intoxicating sight to his memory. His other hand found your face as he shifted the leg that was between yours, earning a whimper, âDon't worry about that, just let me take care of youâ
You shuddered at his words, your body tense with anticipation for what was to come.
He looked so perfect, angelic even.
Watching Rex sleep was never a luxury you imagined yourself getting the opportunity to indulge in, but with it right in front of you, you weren't going to let it pass you by.
You had slept for a little while, wrapped up in Rex's limbs, and held closely to his body. You had been completely at peace, every struggle and awful thought that usually plagued you was pushed to the back of your mind and there was only him, his presence enveloping you; his warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours, his breath against your cheek and his chest rising and falling gently. Now, as you moved away from him and watched the cold light of morning creep across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight.
You slipped out of his arms, a soft sigh escaping him in the process. Your heart clenched at the sound, only feeling your adoration for him growing once again.
You reluctantly tore your gaze away from him and went over to your desk, opening the left draw as quietly as you could. You took out your flimsi sketchbook and a pencil and made your way over to the chair that was against the large window overlooking the city. However, that wasn't the focus of your sketching today, not when there was a sight far more beautiful laying in your bed.
You opened up your small sketchbook and looked at the last thing you had drawn. It was a scene from the park. A couple sat on a bench at the edge of the man-made pond and smiling adoringly at each other. You smiled and pushed down the guilt at the realisation that you had drawn this over four months ago.
When you looked up to Rex again, your heart skipped a beat. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky and cast a golden light across the lower half of his face and chest. You took up your pencil and began sketching the view before anything could disturb it.
The sheets were pooled at his waist, showing off his toned physique in all its glory, especially as he slept with one hand tucked under his head. His features were relaxed, more relaxed than you had ever seen. His face often had a sternness about it that was undeniably militaristic, but that was nowhere to be found as he slept peacefully.
You had the outline and were now just adding the details. The small marks on his skin, some that you had fixed up yourself, and the large blaster burn in the centre of his chest. As you were adding some of the shadows to his face, you heard a small grumble, and your head shot up to see Rex opening his eyes, stretching his arms out.
âDonât moveâ You spoke gently, and he looked to you, noticing your sketchbook in your hand as you sat curled up in your chair.
He smiled, a warmth spreading across his chest as he settled back into his previous position, âLike this?â
âMhmâ You hummed in reply, taking in the way the shadows on his face changed now that he was awake. âRelaxâ You laughed as you saw a small crease emerge in his brow.
He chuckled a little and relaxed with a contented sigh.
âAlmost doneâ You said quietly, as if to not disturb your own work.
You quickly added the remaining shading, adding some small details of the bed and the room, wanting to capture the moment perfectly, so that should your mind ever forget it, which you doubted, it would be forever recorded. That was what you loved about using flimi over a datapad. The physicality felt more personal and permanent.
âAll finishedâ You smiled as you closed your sketchbook and went to place it back in your desk.
âHey! Aren't you going to show me?â Rex asked, and you looked back to him to see the crease in brow had returned.
âIt's not very good, it's just a sketchâ
âCyare, I love your sketches. Please, show meâ He spoke gently, an edge of seriousness to deny your self-deprecating words.
âOkayâ You conceded, opening the sketchbook back up and sitting down on the bed to show him. Rex then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, making you fall back into his chest as he laid down again. A delighted laugh escaped your lips at the sudden contact, and you looked up to Rex's face to see an equally elated expression.
He took the sketchbook from your hand and looked over the drawing of himself, his smile widening with each second.
âIt's amazingâ He said softly, meeting your eyes again.
âThat's because it's of youâ You smiled and brushed your nose against his, earning a small chuckle.
âNo, it's⊠You make me look soâŠâ He looked over the drawing and tried to find the right word to describe what he meant, âI'm not sure. It looks exactly like me, but⊠There's something else to itâ
âWell, all the best things are made with loveâ You said before you could even really process what you were saying.
Rexâs eyes went wide as they snapped back to yours, âLove?â He questioned.
You shrank backwards, wanting the bed to collapse in on itself and swallow you whole, but Rexâs arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against him. You let the word hang in the air for a moment before clearing your throat and swallowing hard.
âUh⊠yeahâ You said awkwardly, looking away.
Rex said your name in a soft tone, pulling your focus back to him. He rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes burning into yours, âYou love me?â
âI doâ You whispered, gnawing your bottom lip at the vulnerability of the admission.
Rex met your lips in a sweet kiss, slow and deliberate, and pulled away a few seconds later. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles before he settled his palm on the back of your neck. âI love you tooâ He confessed, and your heart leapt to your throat.
âYou do?â You whispered.
âI do. I always have. It's like I said, I've always been yoursâ He confirmed, repeating the words he had said last night. You brought your forehead to his again and closed your eyes, taking in the sweetness of the moment.
âAnd I yoursâ
Nothing was fixed. You weren't back to being happy and full of life like you once were, but Rex had reminded you why life was worth living. You were reminded of all the things that made it worthwhile, all of the things you loved to do, the things that brought joy and colour into your life. If you could just take it one step at a time, one day after the other, you would get through this feeling, and best of all, Rex would be there to support you when you needed him.
#trex writings#star wars#the clone wars#501st battalion#captain rex#clone captain rex#captain rex x reader#captain rex x female reader#clone troopers#divider by cafekitsune
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imagine snow leopard!gojo getting so jealous and possessive over you!! maybe he hears your friends saying you need a proper s/o to take care of you and your need and to provide for you and gojo goes feral at the thought!!! i can imagine him being a sad lil baby tho as well
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NONNNIEE!!!!!!!!!! HE GETS JEALOUS SOOOOO EASILY:((((((( LIKE SO FUCKING EASILY:(((((( he's the biggest baby and i love him so much:((((((((((
ok but the thought of that would make him soo sad:((((( like wdym they think that he's not good enough for you:(((((((((((((((( what if you feel the same as they do:(((((((((((((((((( but luckily you notice his little (read: the biggest and the prettiest) pout and waste absolutely no time in reassuring him that that is not the case at all!!!!!!! you love him with all your heart and he is good enough!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ofc he is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and just to make sure that he understands what you're saying you spend some extra time petting him that night... you play with his tail and his ears and his tummy and sides. cute laughs slip from his lips as he squirms on your lap. you shower him in kisses and bites, making sure that he feels just how you feel!!!!!!!!! you brush your nose against his before pressing a kiss to his lips and your heart does a little flip in your chest when he melts into you<3333 he deserves all of the kisses and attention in the whole world!!!!!!!!!!
more on the jealousy thing................... if you come home from work or uni and you happen to smell like somebody else........... he's absolutely 10000% pouting again lmao. he knows you wouldn't cheat on him but still the thought of someone being so close that their scent sticks to you makes him sick to his stomach. he's instantly tugging you onto the couch and pressing you down on it. he crawls on top of you and starts nosing at your pulse point. he licks and grooms - he needs to get that stench off of you!!!!!!!!!!! and when he's done with that, he nuzzles into you, rubbing his own scent on you the best he can.
he often dreams about other ways to mark you up... yes, of course hickeys and just rubbing does the thing. technically. but he wants to do more. he thinks abt covering you in his cum and piss just so everybody would know that you're his (he likes to think of you doing the same to him too btw)(he wants you to claim him just as he does). he likes the idea of having cum stains somewhere on your clothes so you'd be carrying him with you at all times<333333 he's a little perv ok he just loves you so much he can't help it<333333333
#BABYYYYYY#he's soo sensitivee#and he's such a perv hehehhe#i luv him sm#snow leopard!gojo#angel boy#friends!!#mickey is daydreaming#gojo#tw piss
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hey whatâs up whatâs going on. sorry about this. so anyway big brother reo who wants to share you with his treasure and best friend nagi sooooo badly. you havenât given into reo yet more than loaded glances you take when you think he isnât watching you (heâs always watching you) and awkward moments when heâs practically cornering you; youâre too busy for that, clearly, always with some new boy that obviously isnât good for you (no one will ever be good enough for you to reo). still, you get along with nagi really well, treat him sweet and dote on him and fall asleep on his shoulder on the occasion you both knock out on the couch. itâs cute! makes reoâs heart sing and dick twitch! he knows nagi would probably agree that they should share you but for all of two seconds heâs hesitant about it â what if nagi says no? or gets upset? or wants you all for himself instead? reo doesn't know what hed do. but something changes that â your new boyfriend, he fucking sucks. the worst one out of them all, not kind enough to you, not spoiling you in the way you deserve. itâs when you leave the house in the middle of a hangout with reo and nagi because of a fight with him that reo hears it â nagi, voice soft as ever, still focused on the game on his phone, âthey could do better than thatâ, and itâs like reoâs entire world gets a little bit brighter. and when you come home, tears lining puffy eyes, theyâre there to comfort you and show you just how much better you could be treated đ your boyfriend doesnât have to know anyway.
BambiâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ. Putting this in my inbox is nothing but sick and twisted of you ..
Subject of my Adoration
Stepbro!Reo x gn!reader x Nagi
MINORS DNI
cw: incest, slight "somno" (reader thinks reo & nagi are sleeping, they are not), short pwp, reader has no pronouns/no body descriptions but has painted nails mentioned only once briefly, reo & nagi makeout, reader is a bit of a spoiled brat and a little annoying about it but itâs all Reoâs fault and he loves it, dark content - donât read if you donât like !
âHeâs just so⊠soâŠâ a sob gets caught in your throat as tears boil over and spill down your cheeks before you can finish your thought.
âI know angel, I know. Itâs okay, weâre right here.â Reo coos softly onto the top of your head and leaves a kiss, Nagi humming in agreement against your back.
Your boyfriend sucks, same with all the other ones if you were to ask Reo, but this one really sucks you swear. Who texts their date at 2 in the afternoon, âbe there at seven, wear something nice â€ïžâ, just to take them to the movies?
Losers, thatâs who.
You wore your absolute best (you know you did because Reo told you all about how lovely you looked for your big night out up until the moment you left), had him rub the sweetest smelling body cream you owned onto your skin for what felt like hours just so you could smell your best through the entire night, and you even made Nagi help pick a new color for your nails (and help paint them too of course).
All for some cheesy action flick that was more blood, guts, and guns than dialogue. There was barely even any kissing.
What a loser. How dare he waste your time like that?
Naturally, it was all tears and whines the minute you walked through the door, Reoâs warm arms wrapping you into an embrace not seconds after.
Now youâre here, cuddled up nice and close between the pair on the couch, crying into Reoâs chest all about how stupid and awful and lame this guy is.
âPoor thing, huh Nagi?â His friend hums again, continuing to rub your sides softly and leave the occasional peck onto your clothed back.
You squeeze yourself closer into them and inhale deeply, letting their combined scent wash over you and comfort you the way theyâd want it to, the way they hope it does.
Sleep begins to make your eyes struggle to stay open, and your body feels so warm and heavy, but Nagiâs continuously wandering hands and Reoâs random, soft kisses and gentle shushing is making your stomach stir. You move to adjust your position on the couch but find yourself stuck and unable to properly move between them. Not on your own at least.
âSomething wrong, angel? Are you not comfortable?â Reo speaks softer to you like heâs making an effort to not wake Nagi, but you know heâs not sleeping with the way his grip gets slightly tighter on you.
You let your eyes wander across his face before you shake your head and bury yourself back into him, into them.
Why canât your boyfriend be like him? Reo knows you so well; knows how you should be, rather how you need to be taken care of. Heâs so tender and caring with you, taking the time to make sure youâre only feeling your best. And itâd help if they were as handsome as him, too.
The familiar twist in your stomach comes back, pulling and churning until youâre squirming in your spot again.
âCâmere.â Nagi sighs quietly, moving and readjusting with Reoâs assistance until his leg is slotted between yours and Nagiâs, arms wrapped around you both as Nagi engulfs you from behind. Youâre sure Reo isnât fully on the couch anymore, but before you can suggest moving to a more comfortable place to rest, you feel how warm and thick his thigh feels between yours. That in itself isnât surprising, but the way you throb against him is.
You feel like you canât breathe, canât move, canât think.
âBetter?â Nagiâs breath on the back of your neck nearly makes you gasp, when did he move up so close?
Heâs so warm.
You nod, unable to bring yourself to speak, and hope theyâre feeling the same lull of sleep you were just a few minutes ago.
Moments pass and the quiet grows until youâre sure theyâre resting, the steady rhythm of their deep sighs persuading your body to rest itself.
But the pulse between your legs and heat from Reoâs thigh wonât let you.
You bite down on your bottom lip hard as you try to find a less intrusive way to lay with them both, but itâs only making it worse. The friction and pressure pulls a sigh from your lips.
Thereâs no way youâll be able to move without waking them up and asking them to, which isnât an option. There was no decision or request you could make without getting an onslaught of questions from Reo. You donât mind of course, you know he only wants to understand the things you need so he can be there for you without you needing to ask next time, but how would you be able to explain this?
You could never get away with lying to your big brother, heâd see right through you. And you donât want to.
Thick yearning is growing heavy in your stomach.
Their breathing stays steady, and youâre a little shocked your wriggling hasnât made either of them stir.
You feel sick as a thought passes your mind, but you swallow the thick nausea quickly creeping up your throat and remind yourself that Reo wouldnât want you uncomfortable. He wouldnât want you to be hurting like you are now. And Nagi wouldnât either, Reo wouldnât be best friends with someone who wouldnât want the best for you.
Relief comes as you start to rock your hips gingerly, your body instantly hot from the embarrassment and pleasure.
Reoâs shirt bunches up in your fist. Youâre gripping onto him harder than you probably should be, but you need him so bad. Need him to hold you and tell you how itâs all okay, how heâs here so thereâs no need to fuss, you know your big brother will always be there to take care of you.
Your core starts to burn from the careful way youâve been moving your hips, and youâre getting tired, but youâre not close enough yet. You need to finish but youâre struggling more than youâd like to get there.
Your level of frustration (sexually and just from the events of today) becomes more apparent as the familiar feeling of tears pricks at your lash line.
God, why did you have to be such a crybaby?
Reo's shirt feels soft against your cheek as you lean in and let your hips relax, abruptly deciding to give up on your earlier efforts. You press further into his chest attempting to soothe yourself (and wipe your face) with the soft and expensive fabric while you sniffle. He's warm. And he smells so good.
This isn't helping.
Before you can fully shut your eyes and get comfortable, gentle and familiar hands previously resting on your waist slide down to now sit on your hips.
"Angel,", Reo's soft voice hums against the top of your head, "is there something you need?"
You feel your heart race at the sound of his voice. When did he wake up? Did he ever fall asleep? Is Nagi still awake, too? What would you say to them, what could you say?
You crane your neck to look up at him with wet eyes, contemplating what to say. His eyes look heavy, but not tired, not exactly. Just... focused, you could guess.
Too many moments of silence pass as you try to think until a growing dread begins to bloom in your stomach.
You could never lie to your big brother. You couldn't even try.
You nod your head haltingly but turn your eyes down to stare at the wet patch from your tears on his shirt.
What else is there to say to him besides yes, you need him.
Without hesitation, the same familiar pair of hands grip your hips tighter, beginning to wiggle you back and forth on the soft meat of his upper thigh.
Reo always knew what you needed without having to ask.
The pit of dread blossoms into a thick yearning, and you let the small smile of relief that comes stay on your face, Reo would want to know you're feeling good. You can never hide that from him, that's your one rule.
Always be honest about your happiness with me, because how else will I learn to take care of you?
"You still awake, Nagi?" A hum between your shoulder blades and a gentle pinch to your sides serves as his response, effectively pulling you out of the foggy haze overcoming you, and instinctively making you jump.
Taking that as the okay, Nagi's own large hands rest over Reo's, letting him see how you like it best. You look down to watch the way they're both gripping you, how good Reo is at teaching Nagi the right pace, all while Reo was learning himself, too. Nagi's hand caresses his friend's, his fingers rubbing along the tops of Reo's absentmindedly.
"Reo, do they like to be kissed?" Your face gets hot at the implication and the way Nagi speaks about you like you aren't in the room, all while still staring right at you.
Without saying a word, one of Reo's hands slides away from your body to tug his friend by the chin towards himself gently, regaining Nagi's attention quickly before slotting his lips between his. You can tell they've done this before from the seamless way Nagi exhales and slides his tongue into Reo's mouth, like he's been waiting for the same relief you have.
"Mhm,", Reo hums as the pair pull apart just far enough where their lips still brush as he speaks, "they do, just like that."
You say nothing as Nagi's big eyes stare into yours, letting him adjust and get closer until you're engulfed by him.
His tall, wide frame encompassing yours as he kisses you slowly. He's more gentle than you were expecting, more careful, taking his time to taste you without making you feel so intruded upon.
You feel like you're on fire. Everything is hot and stuffy, Nagi's spit mixing with yours as two pairs of hands roam freely across your body, no longer caring where they travel to.
As wrong as the voice in the back of your mind kept telling you this was, nothing was louder than the growing ache between your legs. The one you knew Reo could quiet. At least temporarily.
All you need to do is ask.
"Reo."
His eyes roam across your figure.
"Shh, I know."
Warm fingers sneak between yours and Nagi's bodies, intertwined, to rub you where you need him most. You breathe a soft moan into Nagi's mouth.
"There you go, Reo. Looks like they like that." Despite his choice of words, he almost sounds like cocky. Like he knows Reo knows you're feeling good, he just likes saying it.
He continues to kiss you, moving until Reo can reach you more comfortably, kissing down your neck until your thighs start to shake and attempt to clamp shut. You didn't realize how pent up and close you already were.
Your lips feel cold as Nagi pulls away, the whine close to spilling from your lips swallowed by Reo as he leans down to take his spot, groaning lewdly at the feeling of what it's like to finally kiss you.
Nagi watches you come undone. He twitches at the way you sigh and tug at Reo, rolling your hips into his palm and mindlessly repeating thank you as you catch your breath.
"It's my turn now, right?"
ââââââ
#incest cw#stepcest cw#reonagi#reo!<3#nagi!<3#bllk!<3#reo smut#nagi smut#blue lock smut#bllk smut#elleâs!angels#elle!whispers#bambi!<3#these 2 have a separate place in my heart just like monster bachira#LORD#LORD LORD LORDDDDD#this read like psychotic ramblings before I edited this and took off like SO MUCH LOL#i haven't written smut in so long the end of this was so hard for no reason avfjna;nv#reo thirst#nagi thirst#reo mikage smut#reo mikage thirst#nagi seishiro thirst#nagi seishiro smut
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ooo u wanna talk about tim and toby sooooo bad or brian and tim oooo
so im actually working on a comic for you for this BUT ill spoil it with my words. mild CW for (implied???) depression
i think toby has a lot of hard days, obviously... im still on the fence of how slender sickness affects him, but I think that he doesnt really get the same skullsplitting headaches the others do that drives him to listen. so if he just rots in bed for days at a time, theres nothing but nausea and emptiness - slendy cant rlly get him out of bed. (somehow he remains a favorite)
i think that everyone sorta expects brian to be the one helping toby. he's friendly, charismatic, comforting - but none of that does anything for toby. it makes toby feel belittled, infantilized, angry... has occasionally thrown an alarm clock at brian for calling him buddy. brian eventually gives up and decides to wait it out, cuz he's only human and starts getting angry in return.
kate gets it so she usually just.. IF SHE TRIES, she'd just hang out w him. take a nap in the same bed but he wont move an inch when she wakes up. she'll toss a water bottle to him and head out when she has smth else to do. she doesnt know how to help besides bring stuff, cuz thats what he does for her
but i think tim knows how to like. work toby. piss him off enough to get up out of bed, knock some sense into him, say something that scares toby into getting up, whatever. occasionally he'll lie and toby will yell at him but he's up for the first time in days and tim hands him a beer and asks him to go chop some wood for the cabin and tobys like fucking whatever okay yeah sure whatever. and toby would never ever ever ever ever say it, but deep down he's grateful for tim just having a way of getting him out of his funks . . . then the nausea stops, finally.
i think part of it is spite, though
wouldnt recommend treating anyone the way they treat eachother but yk how it is.
#asks#creeped#theyre terrible at feelings and care and treating eachother well T_T. but they somehow magically made it work the last 5+ yrs
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thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley
like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!
he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.
he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water
in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it
when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh
"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"
it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy
when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that
he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.
#bug blurb#i know i clown on him a lot but its all affectionate i swear#platonic or romantic idk its up to u#might make this into a series for the cod characters if i have time but idk :P#he just like me fr and its a 6'4 deeply traumatized british military man im projecting on#ghost x reader#call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#call of duty mw#call of duty mw2
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stalled | modern! aemond targaryen x reader
pov : youâre stuck in the elevator at the office with aemond aka your boss who you never talked to.
words count : 1.3k
contents : fluff (?) i donât feel like there is any romance going on here, maybe the beginning of something ig??? but this is just a short sooooo
modern au. targaryen company theme plot. aemond is your boss but he never speak to you because heâs a dick.
MASTERLIST
He was terrifying â Aemond Targaryen was inevitably terrifying.
His presence, his demeanor, the atmosphere in the room shifted every time he entered.
And now you were stuck with him in this forsaken elevator.
It was a normal morning, you came to your work, scanned your finger and was sent to your task of the day. Youâve been working at the Targaryen company for six months now after graduating from the university, in the creative marketing team. Your work had been fine with many friendly and supportive colleagues in your department, including the CEOâs second daughter, Helaena Targaryen, as well.
Today one of your colleagues who took a sick leave called you and asked for a favor about paperwork. She already finished them but due to her stomach issues, she couldnât come in to submit her work in time, so she emailed you the file to print and submit for her instead, which you kindly helped out. It was a report on the latest month's sale, so you were supposed to submit them at the office six floors above yours, the 22nd floor. Carrying the documents, you stood in the elevator, listening to the light music playing in the background and mindfully counting the pages in your hands for accuracy.
The gentle ding sound of the elevator alerted you to look up â nineteenth floor â before the door opened, you stepped aside making rooms for the person who was coming in. And then the air got cold.
The door opened, presenting the tall silver-haired man as he entered â Aemond Targaryen, the fourth child of the CEO Viserys Targaryen and his second wife, Alicent Hightower, who worked in human resources.
He was your director in creative marketing.
Also a dickhead.
âMister Targaryen,â you greeted politely with a smile, which he ignored. You were tempted not to pull out your phone and complain about it to your secret social media accountâ not that you havenât done it before. You took a quick glance at him, he was on his phone with his one-eye facing to your side, easier for you to study him closely for the first time. You met Aemond only a couple of times, first was at your job interview, he didnât interview you though, only popping in to chat with his mother in the room. Miss Alicent tried to introduce you to him but he paid no mind and left, leaving you feeling awkward and self-conscious. The second time was in the meeting of the upcoming project, he was present but didnât talk to anyone, well, if you count saying âhmmâ and ânoâ as talking then it was.
Aemond was only a few years older than you, but you swore he acted like a forty year old man at work. The way he spoke, the way he sat â no wonder everyone feared him more than his older brother Aegon. Out of everyone in this family, Aemond seemed to be absent most times. His sister, Helaena once told you that he preferred working from home than being in the office. âHe doesnât like people very much. Whatâs it called again, antisocial?â
Sociopath, more like.
But when he was present, he often wore a casual outfit instead of suit and uniform, with an eyepatch covering his one-eye, of course. It was a known lore of how Aemond lost his eye, an accident during a family vacation, news spread all over the media.
Though missing one eye, Aemond remained devilishly handsome.
You inhaled, only three floors to go. Your eyes glued to the tiny monitor showing the number of each floor as it went on, as if staring at it intensely would help the elevator move faster.
19
20
21
and⊠THUD!
âShit!â you cursed as the elevator suddenly stopped in its place, making your body lose its balance and stumble backward, almost hitting the wall. You look at the tiny monitor, it stopped at 21, but your guts told you that they were in between 22 as well.
You glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be startled as well, but remained calmly anyway. Hugging your documents tightly to your chest, your finger reached forward to press the button to open the door but nothing happened.
You pressed them again, and again still nothing.
âItâs not gonna open,â it was Aemond who spoke first, his voice was stern and calm, way too calm that it was making you panic, it was also the first time you heard him speak. You looked at him confused before he flipped his phone to your sight. You squinted your eyes looking at the screen, it was a message from the security service, informing them of the issue coming from the control panel, causing the elevator to stalled.
You sighed, leaning your back against the wall, thankfully the light didnât go off, that would be a nightmare. âHow long is it gonna be like this?â you asked, taking a quick glance at the watch on your wrist. Aemond hummed before replied, âUncertain, should be some time. Hopefully not too long.â
You didnât try to hide the eye roll as you groaned, at this point you shouldnât care. Aemond then reached his hand forward, pressing the emergency button to alarm the people in the control room. The air was thick and filled with awkwardness, until Aemond broke the silence again.
âYou look stressed,â he remarked. Of course you were stressed, your colleague asked you to help her out and now you were stuck in the elevator submitting her work late. âI have documents to submit in time. Obviously not gonna happen,â you replied, avoiding his eye contact.
âApplications?â he guessed, eyeing the documents in her hands. You turned your head to him instantly, blinking in disbelief, but when you realized how rude it mustâve looked, you played it out with a forced chuckle.
âI've been here for six months,â offense hid in your tone, your brows knitting together. Purposely leaving the part where you were supposed to address him as Mister Targaryen or sir.
Aemond hummed, âReceptionist?â wrong answer bastard.
âCreative marketing, your department,â What a dick. Forcing a smile, your blunt answer with the emphasis on the word âyourâ made him raise an eyebrow in response. âSir,â you finished, a poor attempt.
âBut thatâs the sales report,â Aemond noticed, he could see the heading of the documents in your arms clearly as he stood tall next to you. Though not too close, you could still smell his expensive cologne. Yves Saint Laurent â you guessed, he didnât seem like a Calvin Klein type of guy, maybe Dior Sauvage? but who wasnât a Dior Sauvage type of guy anyway.
âFloris took a sick leave. Iâm just helping her out,â you offered him a softer tone this time, trying to gain some appreciation from him. But to your disappointment, the bastard hummed.
âI also work with Helaena, your sister. Sheâs excellent,â you tried to break the awkwardness, nothing a little small talk couldnât fix. âYes, she is,â not even a small talk could fix him, you couldnât wait to get out of here. But to your surprise, Aemond added, âShe mentioned you before. You came up with the campaign for the last month project,â it wasnât a question but a fact, because Aemond knew. His tone was softer and approved. You thought he had no idea you existed but apparently you were wrong.
âYes, Iâm glad it helped to increase the sales,â you suppressed your smile, feeling proud and appreciated from the way Aemond addressed you. He hummed again, this time instead of infuriated, you felt your cheeks burned.
You two spent the next ten minutes standing in the elevator in silence before it eventually moved again, finally stopping at the 22nd floor. You sighed with relief because you were certain you would get claustrophobic if stood in there any longer. You stepped out finally, but before the elevator door closed, you heard Aemond called out your name from behind.
âIâll see you later at the office.â
#villainscharmâs fic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#house of the dragon#modern!aemond
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Many thoughts about android Stede and human Ed⊠hmmmmmm
Stede starts off completely âemotionlessâ but slowly changes over time. He starts to question things more and more, starts to feel more and more. He doesnât realise itâs happening until one day everything has changed.
Ed is an engineer of some sort? Stede is his android assistant. Did he build Stede? Did someone give him Stede? Who knows! Not important! All we care about here is the fact that Ed can fix Stede if anything goes wrong with him. (He will not let Stede set foot in a repair shop lest they try to factory reset him!)
Ed noticing that Stede is starting to act kinda weird (for a robot at least). He keeps asking questions, sometimes he doesnât quite fulfil Edâs requests properly, and he keeps following Ed around like a lost puppy even when Ed says he doesnât need any help. Sometimes he feels like he sees Stede deep in thought or even getting distracted.
Meanwhile this whole time Stede has been trying to figure out why he wants to be around Ed so much, why he wants to know so much about him, why he keeps messing up what heâs meant to be doing. Is he getting distracted? What by? Heâs an android heâs not meant to get distracted! Must be an error or a bug if some kind but he doesnât want to say anything cause heâs scared heâll get reset! Wait heâs not meant to feel fear!! Oh shit-
Ed tries to secretly run some personal tests to see what Stede is capable of
This leads to Stede finally realising that he can just⊠do what he wants! He doesnât have to do as heâs told, he feels a LOT (emotions are hard when youâre an android who is feeling them for the first time), and he just freaks out. He thinks he must be broken or some shit but when he sees how excited Ed is heâs immediately calmed.
He and Ed get very excited when they realise Stede has kinda become, self aware and has developed free will and they start testing all sorts of shit, giggling the whole time. (Ed: *drops a tool on the floor* ok Stede pick it up! Stede (bursting with excitement): heeeheeehee noooo not gonna!!! đ„° Both of them: *giggling like crazy*)
Stede didnât realise he could disobey until this point, just out of habit. But now that he can actively do it he is sooooo obnoxious about it, he keeps denying even polite requests from Ed to just hand him something.
Stede wants to know what cuddles feel like. Ed wants to know what they feel like to Stede. Can he feel the warmth of it the way a human would? Does it matter if he doesnât? It doesnât matter, the way Stede feels it is important to him, it feels good to him, he likes being close to Ed, he likes feeling him breathe and looking at his eyelashes, the creases around his eyesâŠ
Oh no! Something in Stede has broken (heâs robot sick!) Edâs gonna have to open him up and fiddle with his wires to make him better! (It tickles, it feels funny, Stede likes it maybe a bit too much)
I could go on but I need to go to sleep but uhhhhh Iâm sleepy, hope that made sense⊠yay! Ily android stede
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