#and hopefully you just meant the first movie and not like. the ending of the series
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Can you explain the saw ending please? Thank you
I thought you'd never ask, anon.
So throughout the movie we see Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight chained up in the bathroom, and it cuts to the perspectives of two other characters - Detective Tapp, and Lawrence's wife Allison, who is tied up with their daughter, Diana, and being threatened by an unseen man with a gun. We are lead to believe, up to this point, that the man with the gun IS the Jigsaw killer. He's actually Zepp, the orderly that we saw in a flashback earlier in the film.
One of the twists of the movie is that Zepp was actually playing his own game, having been told that there is a slow-acting poison in his veins that will kill him if he doesn't do exactly what Jigsaw says, which includes holding Allison and Diana Gordon hostage until Lawrence and Adam are done with their game, and killing them if Lawrence fails.
Lawrence goes past the allotted time of six hours, technically failing his game, so Zepp tries to kill Allison and Diana, but Tapp shows up and the Gordons manage to escape. Meanwhile, Lawrence goes through with cutting his foot off to escape his chain, believing his wife and child to be potentially dead. He reaches the gun and shoots Adam, fulfilling his task, but late.
Adam isn't dead and was only wounded (in the shoulder) so when Zepp shows up to kill Lawrence for breaking The Rules and going past his time limit, Adam beats the shit out of him with a toilet lid, leading to Lawrence and Adam's â¨ď¸love sceneâ¨ď¸ where they embrace and Lawrence tells Adam he will come back with help for him, before crawling away.
This is where the twist comes into play. Adam, believing he has killed the Jigsaw killer, searches Zepp's pockets to find some way to free himself from his chain. Instead, he finds the tape that reveals Zepp was merely another player - a pawn. The "dead guy" in the middle of the room then stands up - he's the real Jigsaw killer, John Kramer. The patient that Lawrence had been telling his students about in the flashback of the hospital previously. He's a cancer patient who, upon realizing he only has months to live, tests other people who he deems to be wasting their gift of life through deadly games, often requiring people to mutilate themselves or endure extreme pain to survive.
Adam watches in horror as John tells him he has failed and locks him in the bathroom, shutting off the lights and leaving him in the dark to die. It was never really clear what Adam needed to do to survive, but it's implied that his chance depended on the key that was in the bathtub with him, which went down the drain before he woke up.
#hopefully this makes sense#and hopefully you just meant the first movie and not like. the ending of the series#which would technically be 3D but also. not really#shfjfjgkkg hopefully i didn't forget anything important this is all from memory after watching the movie a million times#i also avoided spoiling other movies in the series#saw#ask#anon#thanks for the ask!
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đđđđđđđđđ ⌠đđâ´

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend just returned from a Triple Header, and after weeks apart, all you wanted was some attention and affection. But he, on the other hand, seemed more interested in his online games than spending time with you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Lando Norris x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: cockwarming and explicit scenes. WC: 0.9k
MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE
It had been weeks since you and Lando had a decent moment together. Between the chaos of a Triple Header and endless traveling, he was finally back home after more than three weeks away. You'd spent days envisioning this reunion: a cozy couch, a romantic movie, maybe a few glasses of wine, and, hopefully, something⌠more intimate.
But, of course, Lando had other plansâplans that involved a computer, headphones, and loud laughter with Max during a gaming livestream. He was sunk into his gaming chair, fully absorbed, while you were sprawled out on the living room couch, pretending to care about some random TV show.
Not that you wanted to be that girlfriend who complained about her boyfriendâs hobbies. You knew gaming was Landoâs way of unwinding, something he genuinely enjoyed. But⌠would it kill him to give you a little attention after youâd spent weeks counting down the days until he got back? You had spent a few hours together earlier in the day, but apparently, for him, that was more than enough. For you? Not even close.
Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to do something about it.
You got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Opening the fridge to grab a can of soda, you could still hear Lando and Maxâs laughter echoing through the house. They were debating something about âthat camper guy in the middle of the mapââwhatever that meant. You rolled your eyes with a small smile. Men.
Back in the living room, you stopped at the doorway to Landoâs gaming setup.
âBabe?â you called out sweetly, hoping that would be enough to get his attention.
Nothing. He raised a hand in a âone-minuteâ gesture without even glancing away from the screen.
Okay. So he wasnât going to make this easy.
You climbed onto Landoâs lap, sitting face-to-face with him, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. It was the perfect positionânot just to be close but also to stir up a little mischief.
âLando, I missed youâŚâ you murmured, drawing out the words as you shifted ever so slightly on his lap. The movement seemed innocent enough, but both of you knew it wasnât.
He took one hand off the keyboard and placed it firmly on your waist, halting your motions.
âI missed you too, love,â he replied, trying to keep his focus on the screen. âBut please, stay still, alright?â
âOkay!â you chirped with mock obedience, which he clearly picked up on but chose to ignore.
You managed to behave⌠for about three minutes. Then, you started shifting again, sliding gently against him, testing his patience.
âY/NâŚâ His tone was firm, though you caught the trace of amusement at the end. âIf you donât stop, Iâm going to move you.â
âBut I just want to spend time with you, please!â you pouted playfully, resting your head on his shoulder and inhaling his familiar, comforting scent.
Lando sighed deeply, as if gathering every ounce of his self-control.
âThen behave,â he said, his voice dropping slightly, though still laced with warning.
Of course, you ignored him. You leaned in closer, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck while continuing your teasing movements, this time more deliberately.
âY/NâŚâ he started, but his voice sounded different nowâlower, drawn out, almost like a groan. âWhat are you trying to do?â
You smiled against his skin, thrilled by how easily you could make him unravel.
âNothing⌠Iâm just enjoying my boyfriend, who I missed so much,â you replied with a playful edge, feigning innocence while keeping up your game.
Lando shut his eyes briefly, clearly trying not to lose control.
âYouâre impossible, you know that?â he said, finally abandoning the keyboard and turning all his attention to you.
His hands slid to your waist, and in one swift move, he lifted your skirt and pushed your underwear to the side. When his fingers brushed against your heat, he immediately noticed the state you were in.
âSo desperate already, huh?â he asked with a smirk. âThree weeks apart, and you turn into a needy little thing.â
âLan,â you whimpered, his name slipping out like a plea. âI need you.â
âIâll let you have a little fun,â he said, his tone almost mocking. âBut only if you behave and donât move.â He began lowering his shorts and boxers, freeing himself. âWhen Iâm done with this game, I promise youâll get all the attention youâre craving. Got it?â
âOkay, I promise Iâll stay still,â you breathed out, far too needy to argue.
Lando positioned himself at your entrance, easing into you slowly. The moment he was fully inside, you couldnât suppress the moan that escaped your lips.
âNow youâre going to have to stay quiet,â he instructed, his voice firm as his eyes flicked back to the screen. âIâm hopping back on with the guys.â
You nodded, too full of him to form a coherent reply.
âSorry, guys,â Lando said into the mic, sounding casual despite the situation. âY/N just needed some help with something.â
And so the match went on, with you obediently staying still for once, too desperate for the attention he promised to risk disobeying.
#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ꎺ ۪  ࣪  i'm just É girl âđ
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd
Warnings: Sexual content (lowkey rated R srry), swearing probably
WC: ~10k
A/N: Apologies for the delay life is lifing blah blah blah. I am headed to Paris on Wednesday for a few days so hopefully this will sedate everyone until Iâm back lol shoutout to whoever is still following this!! Also these songs are what I listened to for each part but to each their own!! Lmk what you think xoxoxo
A Long Time Coming Part 11 â Just like the Movies
Summer/Fall â 2022
After they kissed for the first time, the morning after wasnât awkward like either of them expected. Paige had leaned over and showed her a funny trending TikTok, Azzi had laughed, and then they smiled goofily at each other for an insufferable amount of time before parting ways. Azzi even gave her shoulder a hard punch as she left.
Everything was fine.
They didnât discuss what the kiss meant or how they felt about each other â the only thing that hung between them was the quiet buzzing of anticipation of when they would kiss again. Which, as it turns out, would be the very next day.
And every day after.
Monday
Get it together, Azzi thought.
The squeaks of shoes against laminated hardwood floors filled her ears. Palms sweaty, Azzi lined herself up to shoot a free throw andâŚmissed.
Missed.
The team was having a late practice. The last of the afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the practice gym, momentarily blinding her.
Yeah. Thatâs why she missed her shot.
Not because of a blonde watching her from the sideline, 10 feet away.
Definitely not that.
Azzi let out a deep exhale as Caroline passed her the ball to shoot again, trying her best to refocus. Her periphery worked against her, though, as she caught sight of Paige throwing her head back at something she had said to CD.
Focus, she told herself.
She twirled the ball in her hands, forcing her eyes to zero in on the rim and shot again.
Missed. Again.
Her teammates beside her sprung into motion as they followed the play of the ball, continuing their scrimmage. Azzi felt herself going through the motions with them, but her feet felt slow and her eyes couldnât help but involuntarily make their way over to the bench. To Paige.
Get it together.
Azzi played on like that for fifteen more minutes before the screech of Genoâs whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Her teammates and her gave a collective sigh of relief, trudging slowly and out of breath to where Geno stood expectantly to give his post-practice monologue. Her elbows bumped with Amariâs as they shared tired smiles, semi-focused on any reprimanding from their head coach.
Feeling a slight pressure on her back, Azzi felt her spine stiffen as a familiar hand found home there for the huddle. She didnât have to turn around to know who it belonged to, as sheâd somehow grown a sixth sense over the years when it came to Paige. To Azziâs dismay, their shared kiss the night before may have heightened it even further.
Azzi stood still, stiff as a board. Every part of her wanted to pay attention to her head coach, listen to his words of wisdom and requests to the team, but all her ears could hear were static. Because all she could do was feel.
Feel Paigeâs fingers that pressed over her jersey carefully. Feel the tips of Paigeâs sneakers tap the back of Azziâs shoes as she shuffled behind her. Feel Paigeâs breath ghosting the back of her neck.
Her chest hammered, and she fidgeted with a loose string at the bottom of her jersey. You need to relax, she told herself. They had shared their first kiss less than twenty hours ago, and she would rather jump out of a moving airplane than out herself for freaking out at being in Paigeâs orbit.
Though, there she stood â freaking out about Paigeâs chest brushing her back. Embodying the complete opposite of the calm, chill, cool girl she was this morning leaving Paigeâs apartment. She released a long exhale through her nose.
When Geno called the huddle and excused everyone, Azzi sidestepped away so fast she nearly knocked Paige over, ignoring the side glances received at her abruptness.
Turning her back to her team as they shuffled to the locker room, she made her way to the rack of basketballs that lined the back wall of the court. Halfway through the scrimmage, she had mentally decided to stay late and shoot around solo as self-punishment for her lower-than-Azzi-Fudd-standards practice. It hadnât been necessarily pitiful, but it wasnât pretty either. She knew from the way Genoâs eyes had followed her a little too closely, and how she wanted to kick herself repeatedly for her thinking how goddamn pretty Paige looked in her pink UConn sweatshirt when she was supposed to be shooting a goddamn basketball.
Picking up a ball, she dribbled until her mind cleared and she no longer heard voices echo in the gym. The silence eased the hammering in her chest that hadnât stopped since the huddle, and she felt something eerily similar to peace. She closed her eyes, letting the ball dribble between her legs, releasing a deep exhale through her nose.
She was in her element.
Well, she was.
âThe princess is putting in hours, huh,â she heard from her left side. Immediately, Azziâs hands stuttered on the ball she had been dribbling and fell out of its rhythm, rolling away from her.
Towards Paige.
Of course she had stayed after practice.
Paige scooped up the ball at her feet slowly, her knee still constricted by her brace. She had been cleared from her crutches by her doctor earlier in the day (resulting in Azzi receiving a video of her doing a crutch-less dougie in celebration). Watching her finding her way back to normalcy made Azziâs lips quirk reflexively as their eyes met. The hammering in her chest returned.
She feigned a nonchalant smile, âNot my best practice â canât let Geno down.â
Paige tossed the ball back and forth in her hand, tilting her head to the side. With all the audacity in the world and a smirk, she said, âSomething on your mind, Az?â
One second passed. Then another.
Azzi felt her lips part and an incredulous breath escape her. This was their first face-to-face interaction since she left Paigeâs apartment this morning, where they had viciously attacked each otherâs faces â and enjoyed it. Now, Paige stood several feet away and was teasing her?
A second huff left Azziâs lips.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the flush that was creeping up her neck. âYeah, right,â she mumbled, walking toward her favorite three-point spot. She stuck her hand out, âBall.â
Paige stared at her a moment before walking toward her leisurely, still tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. As she got close enough to where Azzi could see the freckle that lived on the side of her jaw, she dropped the ball in Azziâs open palm.
Turning to face the rim, Azzi dribbled once, twice. She realized in that moment that Paige watching her shot so closely was worse than any stadium filled with thousands of screaming fans telling her to airball. And then, she realized missing her shot with Paige so close to her was somehow worse than that. So, her hands were tied.
Dribble.
Swish.
She turned back to Paige, catching the way her eyes lingered below her neck before slowly trailing back to meet her gaze. Azzi tilted her head to the side, feeling like herself again as the thump in her chest became steadier. She smirked, âSomething on your mind, P?â
She watched Paigeâs eyes flitter up to Genoâs office that watched over the court. Seemingly satisfied, she looked behind her at the exit doors, giving them a nod. As her eyes found Azziâs again, a smug-looking smile spread across her lips. She stepped closer, hands sliding into the pockets of her joggers. At their proximity, Azzi could see the flecks of grey in her irises.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
After several beats of silence, Paige said simply, âYeah, there is.â
Azziâs breath caught as Paige lightly gripped the tip of her chin and kissed her so gently, she felt like she would melt to the ground had Paigeâs other hand not been steadying her at her hip.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Paige pulled away momentarily before pressing a second soft kiss to her lips, as if Azzi were made of glass â but more so like she couldnât help herself. She hovered there, letting the tips of their noses brush.
When she pulled away, she slid her hands off Azzi achingly slow before finding their way back to the pockets of her joggers.
Walking backwards, a lopsided grin grew on her face. âGet your shots in, princess. âImma wait for you in the car âtil youâre ready to go.â
With that, Paige walked out of the gym.
Azzi didnât realize her mouth was hanging open until the loud click of the door echoed around her.
Tuesday
Every Tuesday, Azzi had an accounting lecture at 11am.
She always came prepared â hoarding two protein bars in her backpack at all times, pencils and notebook in case her laptop died, and ready to intensely write notes as her professor spoke.
This Tuesday, Azzi found herself daydreaming in class, scribbling soft nonsense in her planner as her eyes lost focus ahead of her. It was an anomaly.
She was, of course, daydreaming about Paige.
About Paigeâs lips, specifically. And the way her thumb had gently glided over Azziâs jaw and guided her face close to hers just yesterday. And also, the day before that. The low noises she had made as their kiss deepened.
She felt herself trace her fingers over her upper lip absently, a flash of white heat growing at the base of her stomach. She pictured Paige laying down, slightly out of breath as she kissed down her neck. She wondered what noises she would make then, how fast her heart would beat if she ran a hand down her chest, or gripped her hips â
The sounds of chairs scraping back brought Azzi out of her haze with a blink, and she was suddenly aware of her classmates getting up to leave around her.
Her mouth quirked in annoyance; she would have to rewatch her accounting lecture online tonight. Â
As she rose from her seat, her cheeks flushed as if the people around her could read her thoughts. As if they had any insight on the embarrassment she felt from realizing how far gone she was for her best friend. It was one thing for her to work consciously with her deep adoration for Paige, it was completely different to navigate the apparent sexual deviant she was becoming from their lips touching on Sunday.
Because, Azzi realized, she was deeply, deeply attracted to Paige. In the way that made her want to scream. And blush.
The only thing that waived the fantasies that recently riddled her mind was the taco bar that waited for her at the womenâs basketball dining room (it was Taco Tuesday, naturally).
As she trudged across campus, her thoughts fluctuated â
Should I get shrimp or beef today?
Wonder if Paige likes being kissed on the neck.
Stupid â everyone does.
Who can I ask to send me the accounting notes from today?
Wonder if she likes giving kisses on the neck back.
Like obviously, who doesnât.
I hope they have chips and guac.
Her thoughts carried her all the way into the dining room, her body moving on its own in grabbing a plate as her mind was elsewhere. She hummed happily, the smell of the room lighting up a wave of dopamine only Mexican food could ignite. Beginning to load her plate, she paused at the protein selection: beef⌠or shrimp.
Beef.
Shrimp.
Beef.
Shrimp.
She felt a tug on her braid and heard a casual, âYo.â
Paige. Of course.
Azzi turned and gave her a once-over. Her face was bare, with her ponytail loose and low at the base of her neck, strands wisping around her cheeks. Purple glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, blue eyes locked in on Azzi. Following the length of her body that had somehow grown another inch or two on Azzi in the last few months (to Azziâs annoyance), her left leg adorned its brace. She was the picture of casual and relaxed, while Azzi felt like the snap of a twig would have her dragging her to the nearest closet to kiss her senseless.
âAny day now, Az.â
Azzi blinked. âHm?â
Paigeâs lips lifted in amusement, motioning her hand dramatically toward the buffet.
âOh.â
Robotically, she grabbed two shrimp tacos and continuing piling on her plate, avoiding the smile she knew was growing on Paigeâs face.
âStop it,â Azzi grumbled.
Azzi could hear the mirth in Paigeâs voice as she replied, âI didnât do anything.â
Without taking her eyes off the options of food, Azzi shouldered her in the chest, eliciting a chuckle from Paige.
They loaded their plates in silence for several beats before Paige said, âI could eat chips and guac every day of my life, swear.â
She sounded so nonchalant. SoâŚPaige. Like she hadnât thought about their kisses every hour since they happened (like Azzi).
Azziâs eye wanted to twitch.
She gave a hum in reply, focusing on piling refried beans on her plate. She didnât even like beans like that.
Her body was acutely aware of Paige hovering next to her. She knew she was staring at her side profile, eyes bouncing from the crown of her head to her seriously full looking plate.
âYou think I could make good guac?â Paige asked.
That got a snort out of Azzi. âPaige, you canât even make eggs.â
âWhereâs your faith in me?â
âItâs back at my parentâs house â circa 2020,â Azzi said, finally looking up at her. âWhen you made our fire alarm go off. Making ramen.â
Their eyes crinkled at each other at the memory, Paige shaking her head with a smile. Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck, and she wasnât sure at all why.
âGive me some credit â there were no instructions,â Paige paused, eyes locked on hers. âYou know with practice I pick up things fast. And Iâm good with my hands â as you know.â
Azziâs mouth fell open slightly, and she was pretty sure she looked like a blowfish.
As you know? Did she have an early death wish?
On paper, there was nothing wrong with what Paige had said â but it was in her tone. Her voice had dropped, like she meant something else. Or maybe Azzi was reading too much into it. Her eyes looked down briefly to Paigeâs long fingers that held her plate. Gripping firmly, slender, veiny â
Azzi pursed her lips and wordlessly turned around, joining Nika and Aalyiah at their table. She was definitely blushing now, and this time she knew why. She gave the pair a strained smile in greeting, taking a large gulp of her water.
Paige sat down next to her slowly, scratching her upper lip to hide the smug expression on her face. âWassup,â Paige said, turning to their friends.
âAaliyah wonât let me visit her in Canada,â Nika pouted.
Aaliyah rolled her eyes. âI never said that.â
âWhy not?â Azzi asked, shoving a taco in her mouth.
âI asked her what the name of that gross cheese thing they eat was.â
Aaliyah scoffed. âItâs poutine. And you asked if I had a pet moose.â
Nika turned to her with a quirked brow. âWell, do you?â
Azzi and Paige snorted at that.
They sat together, close as usual. Azziâs heart was stammering slightly, which she was chalking up to her coffee from this morning. Because she was absolutely fine being this close to her best friend she made out with less than 48 hours ago, and then again on the practice court less than 24 hours ago.
She shoved a spoonful of beans in her mouth, her knee bouncing.
As Nika and Aaliyah dove into an animated pretend argument over if Canadian or Croatian food was better, Paige pressed her right thigh into Azziâs.
Azzi looked down at their sweatpants covered legs. The touch wasnât new by any means â except, yes, it was. Because she knew Paige was doing it on purpose; to make Azzi feel her, feel something.
Fine, she thought.
Azzi pressed her thigh back.
Having been leaned with her forearms over the table, Paige gave her a glance over her shoulder. Her expression was blank, but she looked for one, two, three seconds. Azzi counted.
Wordlessly, Paige shifted her gaze back to their friends and leaned down to scratch her right leg. Azzi stiffened as Paigeâs shoulder brushed her chest, and her heart might have actually stopped when she felt her hand lightly touch her calf. Slowly, Paige dragged her hand up her leg to end at her knee, giving it a squeeze. It stayed there for five seconds â Azzi counted that time too.
This is new, she thought.
Paige let her finger brush Azziâs thigh as she lifted her hand to scratch the underside of her jaw, pretending like nothing happened.
Technically, nothing did happen. Theyâre best friends. Very comfortable best friends. The flutters in her stomach were from the suspicious looking beans on her plate. Â
I am not turned on from a calf touch, she told herself. Or a knee squeeze. I am stronger than this. Resilient.
(She was not).
She got up slowly, patting her stomach appreciatively in the hopes of mimicking fullness. âGonna take a nap before my next class,â she waved, grabbing her plate with her free hand. âSee you guys later.â
Unassuming, her friends waved and chorused goodbyes after her â Paige remaining silent. They locked eyes momentarily, but Azzi knew she had to get home before she did something ridiculous like lay Paige flat on the table and make everyone throw up their lunch.
Suddenly feeling a sense of false urgency, she hurriedly dropped off her plate with the dirty dish pile and left the dining room, feeling unfocused as her thoughts were filled with bed, bed, bed and Paige, Paige, Paige.
So unfocused, she didnât hear her name being called.
So unfocused, she didnât realize someone had grabbed her by the arm and shoved her in the nearest janitorâs closet until the smell of Windex invaded her nose.
âWhat the ââ she started but went mute when the light flickered on and she saw who was in front of her.
Paige.
Obviously.
âI was calling after you,â Paige chuckled, already reaching for Azziâs jaw and rubbing a thumb over her cheek.
âOh.â Azzi blinked at her, feeling slightly dumbfounded at, well, everything in this moment. Paigeâs hand on her cheek, gentle but firm. The dingy janitorâs closet. But mostly that Paige was standing so close, and Azzi could smell the Dove soap she used.
Paige tilted her head, looking down at her with a soft smile. âStupid,â she whispered as she closed the distance between them, kissing her tenderly â once, twice, three times.
Azzi felt like her brain was short circuiting.
In the span of a few days, Paige and Azzi had gone from never having crossed the boundary of physical intimacy in their several years of friendship to suddenly being unable to keep their hands off each other. And Paige was acting soâŚcalm about it. And it felt unfair.
If steam could come out of Azziâs ears, they would in this moment.
So, she decided to level the playing field.
Gripping the collar of Paigeâs hoodie, she tugged until their lips crashed together.
After a quick grunt of surprise, Paigeâs hands instantly found her waist, tugging her closer as their kiss deepened. With their hips touching, Azzi felt like her body was pulsing.
More, more, more.
Azzi let her tongue outline the shape of Paigeâs mouth, which she parted eagerly. In a swift motion, Paige moved to hold Azzi against the door, their tongues meeting with a fervor they hadnât experience together yet.
Paige slid a hand down the side of Azziâs body, firmly stopping at her hip bone and tugging forward. The move had Azzi feeling dizzy with want, and it was overwhelming. So much so, she gently pushed Paige away before she did something embarrassing like fall to her knees.
Breath's mingling, Paige stared at her with heavy eyelids. She wet her lips, a lopsided smile etching onto her face. âI think you like kissing me.â
Azzi let out a breathy scoff, pushing her back slightly. âYouâve kissed me first every time.â
âYeah,â Paige agreed, smile still on her lips, âAnd you kiss me back every time.â
Azziâs cheeks warmed and she turned her attention to the cleaning supplies that lined the wall next to them. She sniffed, âNext time pick somewhere that doesnât have us next to a mop bucket.â
If Paigeâs grin could get any wider, her face would split in half.
âNext time?â
Azzi feigned annoyance with a roll of her eyes. âMaybe.â Inside, she was screaming.
âYouâre obsessed with kissing me.â
âYouâd like that, wouldnât you?â
âYeah. I would.â
Azziâs blush was beaming now as she tried to cover it with a scratch to her neck. Paige caught her hand there, sliding it down and loosely dangling their fingers together.
Quieter now, she said, âYou wanted a nap before class, right?â
Azzi looked up at her from her lashes, nodding.
Paige looked at her fondly, twisting a loose curl that hadnât made it in Azziâs braid. âAlright, lemme walk you back. But donât get any ideas â Iâm not just a piece of meat.â
âYou couldnât be more irritating.â
Wednesday
The library was empty for once.
Azzi sat at a table with Caroline, Nika, and Paige, working on their individual assignments. Azzi purposely chose the seat across from Paige instead of next to her as per usual so she could focus, and it almost worked â had Paige not been brushing her foot against Azziâs ankle. It was almost impressive how good Paige was at getting under Azziâs skin with little to no effort.
Without looking up from her textbook, Azzi pushed back on Paigeâs foot as a warning to stop. Of course, Paige didnât pay her any mind, and when her foot came back it began tracing up Azziâs calf.
Azzi closed her eyes briefly, letting herself enjoy the feeling for a single moment before standing up and mumbling something about finding a textbook. She ignored the feeling of Paigeâs eyes following her as she walked away. She also ignored the way she liked it.
Walking deep into the shelved rows of the library, her fingers dragged along the spines of books she passed. The row smelled of stale paper and the subtle air freshener spritzed throughout the library. It made her happy.
She paused and her eyes landed on a book covering Latin American history, which would be perfect for the class she planned on taking to fulfill her history elective next year â
A hand landed above her head, and she looked up to see Paige giving her a soft smile. In the quiet of the book-covered shelves surrounding them, she couldnât help but smile back.
âThought you got lost,â Paige murmured.
Azzi leaned on the shelf to her side, letting her body fall slightly under the umbrella of Paigeâs arm that was still extended. âRight,â Azzi murmured back, âMakes sense.â
In their hushed tones, Azzi felt a different kind of unsteady thumping of her heart. This one was accompanied by less anxiety and more of a pull towards Paige, butterflies at the pit of her stomach. It was addicting, honestly.
Paige let her eyes drag across Azziâs face languidly before leaning her head down to speak quietly, âYou look nice today.â
A familiar blush creeped up Azziâs neck as her chest bloomed with the compliment. Maybe she had purposely put on mascara and blush this morning, along with wearing Paigeâs favorite purple hoodie because she knew they would be together later.
Whoâs to say, really.
âThanks, Boogers.â
Paige winced, replying loudly, âBad nickname.â
Azziâs eyes widened at her volume, âPaige, shush.â
A goofy grin grew across Paigeâs face. Her level of volume stayed the same as she replied, âWhat? Iâm not talking loud.â
âYes, you are. Stupid.â
âShut me up then.â
They stared at one another, unblinking. An unspoken challenge flashed in Paigeâs eyes. Azzi cocked her head to the side, thinking.
Paige loved to push Azzi; it might be time for her to push back.
âFine.â
Stepping forward, Azzi placed a hand on Paigeâs chest and a lingering kiss on her left cheek. She could feel the long exhale Paige released through her nose as it hit her neck. Ghosting her nose along Paigeâs cheek, she leaned over and placed a second long kiss on the opposite side of her face. Dragging her nose along the underside of her jaw, Azzi placed a kiss there as well.
Paige exhaled through her nose again, and Azzi could feel the swallow of her throat as she gave the column of her a neck an open-mouth kiss.
Finally, Azzi brushed her lips so lightly over Paigeâs, it was like she was never there at all.
Stepping back, Azzi smiled ruefully at Paigeâs closed eyes and parted lips. She patted the center of Paigeâs chest, whispering, âDonât get lost on the way back.â
Paige peeked an eye open in time to catch Azziâs grin as she stalked away.
Thursday
Paige and Azzi had been shopping for hours in the Storrs mall.
Prior to this, Azzi had called Paige complaining that she had nothing to wear to their annual team dinner tomorrow night.
At hearing her distress, Paige mumbled into the speaker, already lacing up her shoes, âBe ready to go in five.â
Now, in the Nordstrom changing room, Azzi was trying on dress number four. Paige sat on the cushioned bench outside her stall, hunched over with her elbows on her knees, fingers tapping her cheekbones patiently.
Azzi stepped out of her dressing stall, her curly bun slightly frizzy from tugging the simple olive dress over her head. Her cheeks looked flushed from the fluorescent lights of the room.
She twirled, arms extended, âWell?â
Unmoving from her position, Paige smiled, âLooks nice.â
Azzi pouted. âYou said that about the last one.â
âAnd I meant it then too.â
Azzi huffed, spinning back to the stall, yanking the curtain. Her eyes landed on the last dress she had picked out to try â It was black, simple, figure-hugging. She could wear it a million times for any occasion.
Practical, pretty, and $200.
Meaning, too expensive.
She would just try it on for fun and wouldnât get sad that she wasnât buying it. Definitely.
Slipping the dress over her head, her bun grew more lopsided. Staring in the mirror, the dress was unfortunatelyâŚperfect.
She turned to the side, taking in the way it hugged her in the all the right places and still looked modest at the same time. She felt mature. Pretty. Confident. She sighed, yanking the curtain back to let Paige see.
Paigeâs eyes perked up as she came into view, sitting up straight. She was smiling so fondly at her, Azzi thought her heart might split open.
âThatâs the one, Az.â
Azzi looked down and slid a hand down her side, pursing her lips. âI know. I wish it wasnât so expensive.â
âYou want it?â
Azzi didnât look up as she let her fingers caress the fabric. âYeah, but I canât justify spending that much.â
âGet it.â
She looked up then, caught off guard by the intensity in Paigeâs eyes. Azziâs brows scrunched as she said, âI just said ââ
âYou look good,â Paige said, sounding slightly in pain. âIf youâre not going to buy it, âImma buy it for you.â
Azzi let out a burst of a laugh at that. âPaige, thatâs ridiculous. I canât let you do that.â
Paige stood then, walking towards her slowly with her hands in her pockets. She stopped when their chests nearly touched and leaned her head down. In a soft voice, she said, âI think you look really pretty in the dress â and itâs the first one today youâve tried on I can tell you feel good in.â
Paige leaned her face closer and gave a gentle peck to Azziâs cheek. Azzi felt the kiss like an electric shock to her system, goosebumps rising on her skin everywhere. Her eyes wanted to flutter shut, but she refrained to take in the tender way Paige was looking at her.
ââImma buy you this dress,â Paige muttered low, âAnd we can go get dinner. âM starving and know you are too.â
Azzi looked at her through her eyelashes. âIâm paying you back.â
Paige gave her a lopsided smile and turned her around by the hips, her fingers trailing along her lower back as she gave her a gentle push towards the changing room. âSure,â she said lightly, like it was funny of her to even suggest that. âGo change.â
As Azzi tugged the curtain closed, she put a hand on the wall beside her for a moment. She had known for however many months about her feelings for Paige, but the way Paige stared at her and took care of her had her genuinely weak in the knees. She would almost be embarrassed if she heard anyone else describe this feeling but living it herself was entirely different. Her crush on her best friend wasnât just growing â it felt nuclear.
When Azzi emerged from the changing room sheepishly, Paige tugged the dress out of her hands before she could hide it from her.
As promised, Paige bought her the dress.
And refused to let Azzi carry the bag.
Azzi tried to stop the heart eyes she was giving the back of Paigeâs head; she really did.
ââââââââ-
Soft R&B filled the quiet space of Paigeâs car as the girls rode back to campus. The sky was pitch black, and Azzi leaned her head back in the seat, stealing glances at Paigeâs profile illuminated by her dashboard. Their Chick-fil-A order sat protected in Azziâs lap, the smell wafting throughout the car.
âBro, Iâm starving,â Paige grumbled.
âWeâre almost home.â
âBut I am so hungry. Itâs painful.â
âThe dramatics.â
Paige looked over and pouted at her, making Azzi smile.
âDo you want to find a spot and pull over?â Azzi relented.
Paige pumped a fist. âThank god â yes.â
The next thing Azzi knew, Paige was swerving into a nearby bank parking lot, quickly putting the car in park.
Paige snatched the bag from Azziâs lap, finding her chicken sandwich before handing Azzi her own without tomatoes. Before Paige could open her sandwich, Azzi grabbed her hand and poured hand sanitizer in her palm. Paige nodded silently, rubbing it in as Azzi poured it in her own hand. They ate in comfortable silence for several minutes, watching the cars pass on the busy road next to them.
Besides the constant whirring noise of passing cars, the quiet of the car offered a sort of stillness and feeling of solitude Azzi couldnât remember the last time she felt with Paige. There were no walls shared with roommates here, no janitorâs closet down the hall from where their friends sat, no eyes to see them.
Just them. Alone. Ten miles from campus.
The quiet felt vulnerable. In this moment, they felt vulnerable.
With a mouthful of chicken, Paige said, âI like kissing you.â
Azzi snorted, answering back with similar amounts of chicken in her mouth, âMe too.â
They sat in comfortable silence again for several minutes, before being interrupted by Paige once more, âLike, I really like kissing you.â
Azzi gave her a sidelong glance. âI figured.â
âAlright, cocky.â
âWhat? You kissed me first.â
âYeah, but you kissed me back.â
âYeah, I think thatâs how making out works.â
âSo, you admit you like it too.â
âI thought that was obvious.â
âJust making sure weâre on the same page. You know, in case you want to stop.â
Azzi looked at her fully then, wiping her face and fingers with her napkin as she finished her sandwich. Softly, she said, âNo, I donât want to stop.â
Paige glanced at her, taking a sip of her diet coke. âCool. Me neither.â
Silence ensued again. Cars whirred by. Paigeâs hand rested dangerously close to Azziâs on the center console.
Azzi looked at her again. âYou know you can kiss me now, right?â
Paige turned her head and blinked at her. Wordlessly, she leaned her forearm on the console. Azzi leaned forward as well, her hands sliding on her thighs. They stared at each other for a moment, as if soaking the other in. Memorizing each other. Like they hadnât already, secretly.
Paige angled her face, letting her eyes fall to Azziâs lips. âCâmere,â she whispered, pulling Azzi in by where her jaw and neck connected.
The kiss was languid and slow in the best way. Azzi felt herself falling into it, her stomach doing flips at the way Paige caressed her mouth so carefully with hers, like she could do this forever. Kissing Paige felt like a drug to her, inducing a craving at her core she never knew she had.
And when their tongues traced each other, Azzi wanted to sigh into her mouth. Maybe she did, because she felt Paige smile against her, clearly amused. Azzi pulled back a centimeter.
âWhatâs so funny,â Azzi mumbled against her lips. Paige gave her a peck, not moving back.
âYouâre crazy,â Paige said, making Azziâs lips vibrate with each word.
Azzi let the back of her knuckles trace the edge of Paigeâs neck. âNot very nice,â Azzi said into her mouth.
She could feel Paigeâs smirk grow again, âIâll make it up to you.â
Friday
Fridays were supposed to be Azziâs easiest class day. Her accounting pop quiz had other plans.
She walked solemnly into her apartment late that afternoon, giving a disheartened hello without looking up.
From her living room couch, she received a chorus of Heyâs back, one standing out in particular. Her head snapped up to see Amari, who was painting Inesâ nails, and Paige. Her gaze locked with Paigeâs for a beat too long, something unspoken flashing between them.
âWhatâs wrong?â Paige asked, preparing to stand. Azzi noticed her hair was down, slightly wavy from braids she wore yesterday. Light was catching on her blonde strands through the window, making some pieces look almost white. The tops of her high cheekbones looked rosy in the way Azzi knew she must have spent some time outside today, catching the last of Connecticut warmth.
Sheâs so pretty, Azzi sighed internally.
Shifting her backpack on her shoulder, she said, âNothing, Accounting just kicked my ass today.â She walked past the living room, ready to lay down for the foreseeable future until she had to get ready for Genoâs dinner.
Entering her room, she dropped her backpack in the corner, immediately flopping on the side of her bed, letting her legs dangle and back decompress. She knew without saying anything that Paige would follow her there, and she smiled to herself as she heard a dramatic grunt and the drag of her slippers over the vinyl apartment flooring.
Like clockwork, Paige entered her room a second later. She tapped her foot against the door, letting it close enough to give them privacy.Â
âHey,â she said, letting out a breath as she mirrored Azzi and laid next to her. With their necks turned and ears flat against the comforter, there was nowhere else to look other than into each otherâs eyes.
Azziâs lips quirked. âYou already said Hey.â
âYeah, well,â Azzi watched as Paigeâs cheeks got rosier. âWhatever.â
They watched each other as seconds ticked by. Paigeâs eyes flickered to the soft smile playing on Azziâs lips. Azzi caught the tension in Paigeâs jaw, looking like she was restraining herself from something. From her.
âClass wasnât so good?â Paige asked, but her eyes were following Azziâs tongue as she licked the corner of her mouth.
Without answering, Azzi propped herself on her elbow and leaned over. She slowly slid a hand along Paigeâs waist under her shirt, letting her fingers drag lightly over her stomach near her belly button. She watched as goosebumps raised along the skin she touched, the contrast of Paigeâs warmth and her cold hands leaving her own fingertips tingling. Azzi wasnât sure when she had become so bold, but she just couldnât stop.
Her eyes flicked up and saw Paige watching her with lips parted. She inched closer, letting her head tilt as she took in Paigeâs blue eyes and fanned out hair under her.
Azzi leaned down and gave her a slow kiss on the cheek. With her lips staying there, she whispered, âYou look so pretty.â
Azzi knew she probably shouldnât be acting like this, especially with their friends and them only being separated by the thin connected wall of her bedroom and living room. But she felt like a girl possessed as she nudged Paigeâs nose with her own, and captured her lips in a kiss. Their lips pressed together firmly, eliciting a quiet guttural groan from Paige as she instantly wrapped her arms low around Azziâs waist.
They kissed slowly; tortuously so. As their tongues connected, Azzi let her knee slide over Paigeâs leg, to which Paige let her hand drag over her sides and under her thigh, holding her there. Azziâs lower stomach fluttered
âYou guys getting ready for dinner?â They heard Amari call from the living room.
The two girls pulled apart and stared at one another, eyes crinkling as they gently touched foreheads. The look they exchanged held a promise â theyâd find time to be alone again soon.
-------âââ-
Geno held his annual team dinner at Storrs Country Club as a final hoorah before preseason crept up.
Although originally arriving together, as the group of girls shuffled in, Azzi and Paige were separated. They found themselves sneaking glances from across the room, wishing they were sat next to each other instead of two tables apart.
Instead, Azzi sat next to Caroline, who was animatedly discussing her aversion to the grey jerseys they would have to wear this fall.
âItâs just so unflattering,â Caroline continued, unaware of Azziâs wandering eye to a nearby polo-wearing blonde.
âTotally,â Azzi mindlessly agreed, this time catching Paigeâs eye as they made prolonged eye contact. Azzi smirked, whipping out her phone to text quickly Youâre staring.
She was too, but thatâs besides the point.
Watching Paige look down at her phone, they locked eyes again.
Azzi, trying to hide her smile, mouthed, what?
Paige bit her lower lip and shook her head slightly as she scratched the underside of her jaw in an attempt to cover up the blush that was creeping up her neck.
Satisfied, Azzi turned back to Caroline now, attempting to be an active participant of the conversation.
âAnd, who even looks good in cellblock grey,â Caroline said, sounding disgusted.
Azzi nodded, âYouâre so right, absolutely no one.â
Well, she thought, maybe one person.
They continued back and forth for several minutes before Azzi saw Paige approach Caroline from behind and tap her on the back. âHey, switch seats with me?â Paige asked her.
Caroline stared at her with furrowed brows, âUh, no?â
Paige leaned her forearms on the back of her chair, sighing quietly. She leaned down and whispered something in Carolineâs ear, causing her to roll her eyes and scoot the seat back. Standing now, she turned to Azzi, âSee you, Az.â
At the sight of Caroline leaving and finding Paigeâs original seat, Azzi couldnât help but laugh at the abruptness of it all. She turned to Paige, who was making herself comfortable next to her. âWhat was that?â she asked, confused but entertained.
âWanted to be closer to Genoâs podium,â Paige deadpanned, âBad eyesight, you know.â
Azzi huffed a laugh. âRight. And Iâm the princess.â
âYou are,â Paige agreed, taking a sip of water.
Azzi rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.
When the dinner started to roll out, Azzi felt her mouth water. That is, until a platter of roasted brussels sprouts landed in front of her as an appetizer. She stared at it, scrunching her nose as she pushed it away from her.
âGross,â she mumbled to herself. The memory of her throwing up the night before last yearâs championship game flashed through her mind, making her frown subconsciously.
Paige caught it all, pausing before flagging down a waiter. One came quickly, leaning his head down to listen as Paige requested, âCan you take this away, please?â
She pointed to the platters of brussels sprouts in front of herself and Azzi.
Wordlessly, the waiter nodded and lifted the plates away from the pair. Azzi looked at her from the side, offering a small smile as a thank you. Paige stared at her, letting her hand rest on her knee under the table.
She squeezed three times. Azzi counted.
She thought then, if it wasnât obvious before, Paige Bueckers was her person.
Saturday
Paige had asked her to come over and watch the Aces versus Sparks game. The game being on West Coast time had it starting at 10pm in Connecticut. Translation: a sleepover was inevitable.
Azzi and Paige had had so many sleepovers it was easier to track the times they didnât sleep together than not.
But that was before, and Azzi found herself shaving her legs thirty minutes before embarking for Paigeâs apartment. For what â she didnât know. But there she was, doing it anyway.
Now, she lay on Paigeâs bed with her with baby-smooth-dolphin legs, feeling like an idiot because Paige had barely touched her. Fully invested in watching Aâja Wilson dominate, the blonde had her right hand in a permanent fist, pumping every five minutes as she said, âMy GOAT.â
They lay side by side; shoulders attached like Velcro. Azzi had her neck craned down, playing Smurfs on Paigeâs Ipad.
âYouâre not even paying attention.â
âYes, I am.â Azziâs eyes never lifted from the tablet.
âYou donât even know whatâs goinââ
âAâja has seven assists and four blocks. Rae has six points. Chennedy has eleven. The Sparks need to stop handing out turnovers.â Azzi gave her Smurfette a cute little purple hat to wear.
Paige was staring at her with her mouth slightly agape, looking unnerved.
Azzi gave her a glance out of the corner of her eye. âYou were saying?â
Paigeâs lips split into a grin as she hooked her arm around her shoulders. Azzi felt a cheek land on the top of her head.
Azzi smiled to herself, leaning further into Paigeâs warmth.
Eventually the game concluded, with the Aces winning 98 to 87. The girls went through their nighttime routine, as it was somewhat a science at this point. They brushed their teeth together, Azzi flicking Paige in between the eyes after she hit her in the thigh with her good leg. Azzi slipped a pimple patch on Paigeâs cheek because she claimed she was too tired. They jointly stacked Paigeâs extra pillows off her bed and onto her desk chair. Paige grabbed the extra throw blanket she kept for Azzi when she got cold at night.
It was all so routine, Azzi had accepted tonight would be the first day of the week the pair did not share a kiss. Part of her felt relief in the fact that her and Paige could still maintain a level of normalcy after the week they had had, and another part of her craved their newfound intimacy. Craved Paigeâs affection. Her unsubtle tenderness.
They laid in the dark now, both facing the ceiling with eyes wide open. The pipe outside Paigeâs window rattled slightly with the wind. It made Azzi want to fidget.
âI thought about you a lot this week,â Paige spoke first, still facing the ceiling. Azzi felt her heartrate pick up.
âLike what?â
Azzi felt Paigeâs shrug as their shoulders were pressed together. âJust how much I liked what we were doing.â
The rattle of the pipe filled the quiet of the room for a moment before Azzi replied, âMe too.â
A beat passed. And then another.
âDo you ever think about doing more than kissing?â
Paige laid quietly next to her, staring up at the ceiling, seemingly unprovoked by Azziâs question. âYeah.â
Azziâs heart thumped faster. âWith me?â
âNo, with Geno.â
Silence stretched between them for several moments before Paige continued softly, âYes, with you.â
âOh.â
Azzi turned her head to face Paige slowly, taking in her profile. âYou know you can, right?â
She watched Paige pinch the bridge of her nose. âCan what, Azzi.â
âYou can do other things with me.â
A long breath left Paigeâs mouth. Several seconds passed.
In a fluid motion, Paige turned on her side and tugged Azzi towards her, slanting their lips together.
Finally, Azzi sighed in her head, a smile dancing on her lips.
Attempting to hide the immediate glee she felt from their mouths being attached again, Azzi pressed into her harder. They kissed like they were trying to prove something; to themselves, each other â it was unclear. What was obvious, was that Azzi was getting turned on. Quickly.
She sighed softly as Paige kissed across her cheek and over her jaw, her tongue darting out with the movement of her lips. Azzi tilted her head to give her better access to her neck, a breathy short moan escaping her as Paige simultaneously hooked Azziâs leg over her hip, slotting their legs together, and leaving a trail of kisses down the column of her throat.
Azzi felt her core tightening as Paige glided a firmly gripped hand over the side of her butt, down her thigh and all the way down to her calf.
Thank God she shaved.
Paige repeated this motion several times, her fingers trailing along the inside of Azziâs thigh as she gripped her hamstring. Their lips found each other again, tongue clashing instantly.
The way Paige held her made Azzi feel like the sexiest woman alive. Paige kissed her like a woman starved, like Azzi was the only woman to ever exist. That made her feel a little bold.
Unbreaking the kiss, Azzi reached for Paigeâs hand that rested on the underside of her thigh and dragged it until it rested on her ass. She smirked at Paigeâs groan she felt against her lips.
Paige squeezed her hand, dragging her by the ass until their hips were firmly pressed together. With the way Paige was holding onto her, Azzi thought she was going to have indents on her left butt cheek in the morning.
Not that she minded.
It turned Azzi on to the point where she let her hand dragged across Paigeâs jaw, roughly down her chest, and reaching to grab her hand again. This time towards the front waistband of her boxers.
Paige groaned again, and Azzi felt her core pulse as her fingers skimmed underneath the band, teasing the top of her underwear. Azzi didnât know if she wanted to squeeze her legs together or let them fall apart â everything felt so good and Paige hadnât even touched her yet.
Paige broke their kiss, the pair breathing raggedly. She glanced down at where her hand was resting on Azziâs stomach. Her eyes glanced back up at Azziâs, an unspoken question hanging between them.
Azzi realized Paige was leaving the ball in her court to decide her next move; that in itself made her heart flutter. Suddenly, the weight of what could happen next hit Azzi like a truck.
Maintaining her eye contact with Paige, she nodded slowly. She watched Paige swallow.
In a shuddering breath, Paige let her fingers slowly drag under the waistband of Azziâs boxers, gliding over the top seam of her underwear. Her fingers moved, finding the crevice of where Azziâs hip and inner thigh met.
Azzi felt like the skin Paige touched was on fire. Their mouths hung open, close, and they breathed raggedly. Paige touched her like she was a landmine; careful and like she was memorizing every point that made Azziâs breath hitch.
Finally, Paige dragged a single finger down the front of Azziâs underwear and over her folds, where she had begun to get wet thirty minutes ago.
Paigeâs lips parted, her breathing coming out soft but uneven as her and Azzi stared at each other with half-lidded eyes. âIs this okay?â She whispered, voice low. She circled two fingers on Azziâs clit over her underwear, pressing lightly to feel the wetness starting to seep through.Â
Azzi swallowed. âYeah,â she said breathily. She spread her legs a little wider, which Paige took as invitation to press her fingers a little harder as she continued her ministrations.Â
Paige dragged her nose along Azziâs neck, her lips only brushing faintly over her skin. She gave a feather-light kiss right below Azziâs ear, her lips staying on her skin as she asked in a low voice, âDoes it feel good?âÂ
Azzi slid her hand up Paigeâs cheek, slightly digging her fingertips into her hairline. She watched as Paigeâs eyes rolled back slightly. âYes,â Azzi said, her lips barely parting. Good didnât even begin to cover it; she thought if Paige kept it up long enough, she could finish just from this.
Paige used three fingers to rub slowly up and down the front of her underwear, circling her clit when she got back to the top. She pressed as her underwear dragged into her folds, feeling wetter every time she rubbed up and down.Â
Azzi was panting quietly now, her eyes fluttering. Paige leaned down to ghost her lips over hers, their unsteady breaths intertwining.
âDo you want me to touch you?â She asked, but it sounded more like a plea. Azzi nodded, gasping as Paige made it back to her clit.Â
âTell me.âÂ
Azzi was starting to involuntarily lift her hips up, her body following Paigeâs movements. She dragged her fingertips to the underside of Paigeâs scalp and pressed. âPlease,â she breathed.Â
Paige hooked a finger, dragged Azziâs underwear to the side. They both released a shuddering breath as Paige finally circled her fingers there.
Azzi was rocking her hips up now, wetting her lips as their husky eyes met. Paige leaned over, kissing below her ear as she slipped a finger inside her, pumping in and out.
Azziâs mouth dropped open.
âYou like that?â Paige asked her in her ear. She licked along her neck.
Azzi tried to respond, but it became incoherent as Paige slipped a second finger inside her, alternating between circling her clit and pumping her.
âWhatâre you tryna say,â Paige mumbled huskily. âLemme hear you.â
Azzi turned her head, lips falling open and resting on Paigeâs as she moaned as quietly as she could. âFeels so good,â she breathed into Paigeâs mouth. At the praise, she felt Paige work faster, press a little harder.
Azziâs head fell back, mouth open. She was so close.
Paige stared at her in awe, her eyes looking drugged. âYouâre so fucking hot, Az.â
Azzi croaked, her mouth unable to close. Her brows furrowed as Paige picked up her pace â circling, pumping, crooking her finger and â
Oh.
My.
God.
âPaige,â Azzi breathed, trying desperately to stay quiet. She was fully panting now, and Paige was staring at her like she was the last piece of food on Earth.
âFuck,â Paige groaned, kissing Azzi hard. She mumbled against her lips, âSo fucking pretty.â
Azzi was on fire. Her entire body pulsed, and she felt like she was gasping for air when suddenly Paigeâs thumb pressed over the most sensitive part of her in that way and â
She fell apart.
âYes,â she breathed. âYes.â
Her head fell back on the pillow, her mouth open in a silent moan as her eyes squeezed shut. She covered her mouth to not wake anyone up, her body shaking in the peak of her orgasm. But Paige kept going.
âPaige, I ââ Azzi saw stars. Her whole body had chills as she felt herself building up again and â
She pressed her hand into her mouth again, feeling a second orgasm course through her, shaking her to her core. Her body was twitching, writhing, all of the above. Her mind was blank as the pleasure coursed through her, apart from Paige, Paige, Paige.
âYouâre so perfect,â Paige whispered, finally easing the pressure of her hand. âSo perfect.â
Azziâs hipa twitched, her hand finding her chest as she took in large breaths. Paige removed her hand from Azziâs underwear, their eyes locking. Their expressions mirrored each other; euphoric, wild, scared.
âHoly fuck,â Azzi whispered.
Paige tucked a piece of Azziâs hair behind her ear, letting her hand drag down the side of her face. âThat was okay?â
Azzi nodded, her lips slightly parted. âVery much more than okay.â
A beat passed before they grinned at one another. Paige leaned over and cupped her jaw, giving her a soft kiss, rubbing her thumb across her cheek. She leaned her forehead against Azziâs as she pulled away. Azzi closed her eyes in content, a small smile playing on her lips as their bodies tangled.
âTwo times, huh?â
She popped an eye open to see Paigeâs shit-eating grin.
âShut up.â
Sunday
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The pipe outside Paigeâs bedroom window sounded louder than usual. She sat at her desk, iPad open to an assignment sheâd lost focus on thirty minutes ago. She turned to the window, shooting the darkening clouds outside and the pipe she couldnât see a glare.
The drip was distracting her.
She stood then, letting out a low grunt as her joints adjusted. She unconsciously reached for her left knee â a precautionary reflex. Her hands found her hips, and she began a slow pace around her room.
Her eyes glided along the wall above her bed, decorated in her favorite album covers.
Music.
Yes, she should put on some music.
Pause, she thought.
She couldnât put on music, because that would require going on her phone. And if she went on her phone, she would find herself staring at her text thread with Azzi, whom she hadnât spoken to the entire day.
It wasnât on purpose. Azzi had spent most of the morning lounging with Paige in bed, their fingers loosely hooked and laughing over something stupid. When sheâd left at noon, shooting Paige a coy smile through the door as she stepped out, Paige thought it was in both their best interests to go about their days (primarily before Paigeâs heart jumped out of her chest, or she never let Azzi leave her room again).
But now in the solidarity of her room, where Azzi was just taking up space eight hours ago, Paige was starting to pace.
Her mind was running like an engine; back to Azziâs soft lips. The way her breaths came out short when Paige touched her there. The way she had been fantasizing about doing everything they did last night for months, and it was somehow better than how she imagined. Azzi was more beautiful, more perfect, softer, breathier, firmer, than in her dreams.
Paige was fucked.
Because it wasnât even just that now she knew what got Azzi going â it was the fact that over the course of this week, Paige had a taste of what it was like to be with Azzi. Stealing kisses, subtle touches, quiet words no one else had to hear. Her rock. Her best friend. The girl she was falling for.
Paige was ruined for anyone else.
Roughly, she dragged both hands down her cheeks, squeezing.
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 9:37pm.
Yeah. She was going over to Azziâs apartment.
She slipped on her slides and grabbed her hoodie off her desk chair, putting it on haphazardly as she blindly reached for her keys and nearly bolted out the door.
Azziâs apartment was only down the block, so as light droplets of rain covered her, she didnât mind. Honestly, the cool of the rain helped combat the steam that was surely rolling off her head from overuse.
Then, the rain picked up. Paige blinked, and suddenly she was in a torrential downpour.
âOf course,â She mumbled to herself, not fighting the water that pelted on her in every direction. She walked, no, stomped, for five minutes, eventually making it to Azziâs front door. She banged her fist on the door twice before stuffing her hands in the pocket of her hoodie.
She heard shuffling and laughter, and like a beacon Azzi opened the door with the living room lights illuminating behind her.
Paige could imagine how ridiculous she looked standing in front of this damn near angel, sopping wet as the storm raged on behind her. Feeling water in every crevice of her body, her heart pounded as hard as the thunder outside as Azzi gave her a wide-eyed stare. Glasses were perched at the bridge of her nose; her hair was in a messy bun at the top of her head, and she wore an oversized Nickelodeon shirt with boxers that were probably a decade old. Poop emoji slippers adorned her feet.
Fuck me, Paige thought. I love her.
After the initial shock of seeing her in her soaked state, Azzi immediately stood aside and ushered her in. âOh my gosh, what is wrong withââ Azzi started. Before she could finish, Paige was fisting her shirt collar with both hands and kissed her.
Azzi gave a small noise of shock but quickly grabbed Paigeâs shirt in her own hands and kissed her back with equal fervor.
They kissed like they were starved.
Deprived.
Hungry.
Paigeâs hands went to Azziâs jaw as she cupped her face, their lips finding each other like they had done this their entire lives instead of just one week. Her lips tasted like the mint chocolate chip ice cream Paige knew she had after dinner. It made her smile as she broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against Azziâs.
Their chests moved in unison as they regained their breaths, eyes crinkling at one another like a joke was being told that only they knew.
âHi,â Azzi beamed, a breathy laugh escaping her.
âHi,â Paige smiled back, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
âYouâre drenched,â Azzi snorted, pulling away slightly.
Paige grabbed her biceps before she could get too far, leaning in to mumble against her lips, âDidnât notice.â
âOh my god?â
Paige and Azzi turned their heads slowly to the side, as neither of them had spoken. Staring at the pair, unblinking, with mouths dropped was Amari and Aaliyah on the couch.
Paige blinked once.
And then again.
She took a large step to her right away from Azzi, leaning one hand on the nearby kitchen island and the other on her hip.
âHey guys,â Paige said, voice cracking. âWhatâs up?â
#pazzi#azzi fudd#paige bueckers#pazzi fics#paige x azzi#uconn wbb#dallas wings#wlw#wnba#paige bueckers x azzi fudd#SoundCloud#Spotify
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Like Peas in a Pod
Pairing:Â Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary:Â What happens when two wallflowers find each other?
Word Count:Â 5.7k
Authorâs Note:Â I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!
Warnings:Â Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.
If youâd had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.
âDo we have to go out tonight?â youâd groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. âItâs been such a long week. Canât we just do a wine night and put on some movies?â
âWe did that last week!â Shawna argued. âCâmon, I just got my nails done. Donât let it be for nothing,â she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.
âBesides,â Kelsey chimed in, âlike you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.â
âHopefully weâll find other people to treat us,â Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.
âBesides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently itâs where all the hotties from North Island go after work,â Shawna giggled.
Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.
âItâs settled! Weâre going to The Hard Deck, ladies,â Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. âMeet at my place at 8 and weâll Uber over.â
As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadnât been wrong. From the moment youâd stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, youâd been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.
Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the barâs patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.
âCheers, ladies!â Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. âAnd a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!â she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.
The rest of you held up your drinksâRenee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noonâand clinked them together with a celebratory âCheers!â
âTonightâs the night that youâre finally going to find yourself a man,â Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.
âYes, it is!â Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.
âTake your pick, babe,â Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. âIâve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!â
You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friendsâ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.
The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldnât have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.
Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possessâthe ability to turn menâs heads no matter where they were.
Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.
At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.
Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.
And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to sayâhow had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?
You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways theyâd helped you come out of your shell since college. But youâd be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasnât challenging at times.
They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men youâd ever seen. Youâdidnât know how to do any of that.
Youâd tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girlsâ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.
The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, âSo, is your friend single?â while pointing at Kelsey.
You hadnât told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew theyâd just feel bad and you didnât want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didnât have the heart to tell them that youâd given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldnât understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.
âDonât give us that look,â Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. âYou look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!â
âYou do,â Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. âI love that top.â
âSee? I told you it was a solid purchase,â Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.
Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldnât help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? Youâd be crazy not to try. Youâd spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. Youâd coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadnât seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.
âLetâs just enjoy the night and focus on us,â you said, trying to deflect your friendsâ intense attention. âIf anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.â
The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didnât push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.
As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.
At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.
You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartendersâif youâd heard correctly earlier, she might have been the ownerâapproached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.
âLadies, these are for you,â she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.
âOh,â Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. âI think there might have been a mistake. We didnât order another round, did we?â she asked, looking at the rest of you.
âNot that we wonât take them,â Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.
The woman smiled at the four of you. âNo mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,â she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.
The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Menâs Health magazine.
âOh, weâll definitely take them!â Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.
âThank you,â Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.
âOf course,â she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, âIâll vouch for the fact that theyâre good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.â
âThanks, Penny,â Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. âWe owe you one!â
Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.
âShould we go thank them for the drinks?â Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.
âNot yet,â Renee decided, smirking mischievously. âWeâll let them sweat it out a little bit first.â
âRenee!â Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.
âWhat? You know itâll work. Theyâll be eating out of the palms of our hands,â Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.
âThey look cute,â you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.
Clearly you shouldnât have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.
âWhich one do you think is the cutest?â
âDo you see one you like?â
âClaim one now before we get over there!â
Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.
âIâIâI donât know!â you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. âI just meantâI mean, they look cute for you guys.â
âUm, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldnât they be cute for you, too?â Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.
âPlease, you guys, letâs just drop it. Iâm probably going to start heading home soon anyway,â you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
âWhat? No, you canât!â Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.
âCâmon, weâll go over to them now,â Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. âYou canât leave yet,â she insisted.
Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.
âWell, well, well, fellas,â smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. âLooks like our little gift didnât go unnoticed after all.â
Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplateâSeresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.
Renee, who always ended up being your groupâs fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. âWell, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks arenât half bad after all,â she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. âEven if they werenât brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.â
Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.
âMost of us arenât half bad. I canât speak for Hangman here,â another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelseyâs ears pricking up at the sound.
Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelseyâs type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as wellâBradshaw.
âHangman?â Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.
âMy callsign,â the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.
âAh, callsigns. Youâre fighter pilots,â Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.
âNot just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,â came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.
âOh, yeah?â Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. âAnd who determines that?â
âThe Navy,â Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. âWeâre all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.â
âHmm, and humble, too,â Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. âSo whatâs your callsign then?â
âRooster,â the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. âBut Iâm being awfully rude. I didnât catch your name,â he said, holding out his large hand.
âKelsey,â she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.
You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.
Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.
Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.
What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.
It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. Youâd text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you werenât sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.
Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friendsâ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.
Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldnât get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.
Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.
Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.
âAre you alright?â he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.
âYes,â you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadnât heard you. âThank you,â you added.
âIâm guessing you were looking for this?â he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.
You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. âI guess Iâm just a klutz,â you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.
He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. âIt wasnât your fault,â he said, shaking his head. âSomeone bumped into you.â
He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?
âWell, thank you. I appreciate it,â you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.
He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. âWell I donât want to hold you up,â he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.
Your head whipped back in his direction. âOh, no! I mean, youâre not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.â
Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?
âOh, youâre leaving?â he asked, glancing over his shoulder. âI, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,â he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.
He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldnât leave after all?
âOh, um, yeah,â you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. âI just, umâŚwell, itâs kind of loud in here and I justâŚâ Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.
âWould you like to maybe go outside for a minute?â he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, âI mean, of course you donât have to. Iâm sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and Iâmââ
âNo,â you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. âI mean, I would like that,â you clarified with a shy smile.
âOh,â he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. âIâm Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,â he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.
Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.
âSo do you have a callsign, too, Bob?â you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. âYour friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.â
âOh, um, yeah,â he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. âMy callsign is Bob. Original, I know,â he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.
In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldnât explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.
âI like it,â you told him with a smile.
âThank you,â he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.
The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.
âIs this your first time at The Hard Deck?â he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. âI feel like Iâd remember seeing you.â
You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. âIt is, actually. It was my friend Shawnaâs idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.â
âIt is,â Bob nodded, smiling at you. âPenny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.â
âIâm guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?â you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators theyâd found.
âPretty much, yeah,â he chuckled. âItâs been almost a year since Iâve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,â he joked.
You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navyâs best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasnât bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.
As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, âIâm actually not a pilot. Iâm a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my visionâs always been a problem. Iâm proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.â
âI think that sounds really impressive,â you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. âIâm sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, weâd never make it off the ground,â you grinned.
Bob smiled in return. âIâm sure youâd get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,â he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. âSo, uh, what do you do?â
âIâm a teacher,â you replied. âI teach history to middle schoolers.â
âNow thatâs something Iâm sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,â he admitted, which made both of you laugh. âAnd history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.â
âReally?â you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.
âAbsolutely. If I hadnât gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I saidâmiddle schoolers terrify me,â he grinned, his eyes crinkling.
âThereâs always high school,â you pointed out with a smile.
âEven worse!â he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.
âIs that a piano?â you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.
âSounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,â Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.
âTrust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,â you assured him with a knowing look.
âMy friends are very smooth with the ladies, but theyâre also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,â he told you.
âItâs funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,â you said.
âAh, well, no oneâs more trustworthy than Penny,â Bob smiled.
You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasnât an uncomfortable silence, however. You didnât feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.
âWhy were you going to leave?â
You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didnât make you sound completely pathetic.
âIâm sorry, thatâs none of my business. I shouldnât have asked that,â Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. âPlease, just forget it.â
âNo, um, itâs okay,â you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. âUm, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didnât see any point in sticking around any longer.â
Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. âWasnât there anybody for you to talk to?â
You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didnât want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.
âUm, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,â you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.
Bob fully frowned at that. âGuys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,â he said softly, his voice serious.
âThatâs sweet of you to say,â you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.
âIâm not just saying it,â Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. âYouâre sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. Iâm honestly shocked youâre out here talking to me of all people.â
âDonât say that,â you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didnât appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.
âI know that Iâm not like my friends,â he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. âI know Iâm not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what itâs like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.â
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.
âBob,â you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. âI think youâre a terrific guy. And the girls who canât see that? Itâs their loss.â
He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. âIâm really glad you didnât leave.â
âIâm really glad you asked me to stay.â
He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.
The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.
It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.
The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.
âThere you are!â Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. âYou had us scared half to death!â
âI told you she was fine,â Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing âSorry!â to you.
âSee? Nothing to be worried about,â Kelsey added. âSheâs withâŚâ She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.
âUm, Bob! This is Bob,â you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.
âSheâs with Bob!â Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.
âFloyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,â Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Reneeâs waist.
âI guess they did notice we disappeared after all,â you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.
âOf course we did!â Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.
âWe were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,â Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friendâs apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. âInvite your friend!â
Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. âUm, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?â
âIâd love to,â Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.
Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.
âCâmon, letâs go close our tabs. Jakeâs paying for the Ubers,â Renee smirked, patting the blondeâs chest as she gazed up at him.
âAww, thanks, Jake,â Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.
âOwe you one, man,â Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.
âHey, wait a secondââ
âThatâs what you get for losing two rounds of pool,â Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.
Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldnât help but crack up laughing.
âI think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,â you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.
âI think so,â Bob nodded, rising as well. âBut I think I really met my match in you.â
Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. âI couldnât agree more.â
And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#x reader#x female reader#top gun#top gun: maverick#lewis pullman
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Hi, I read your last fic, I it was great like all of them are and I had an idea. Could I request a fic about Reader and Lewis having an age gap of like 15 years or so. And both are struggling with it because of what people might say, but they still love each other. So they have a talk about it, and itâs quite angsty but ends happily?
Thank you!

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Authors Note: Hi all! Here is a one-shot someone requested. Hopefully itâs okay, I tried to make it detailed and a good length. Lots of love xx
Summary: A deeply emotional night lays bare Lewisâs fear that heâs holding you back because of your age difference. But though unwavering love, you both choose each other anyway.
Warnings: angst, 15-year age-gap
Taglist: @hannibeeblog @nebulastarr
MASTERLIST
࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë ŕŁŞđ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â
You remember that night like it lives under your skin.
The early days were nothing like the relationships youâd had before.
He didnât rush. He didnât play games. He texted when he said he would. He showed up when he promised. He sent you flowers after your first date real ones, not just a story-post. He remembered things: your favourite pasta place, the song that made you cry in traffic, your little habit of talking to the dog in the park like it could answer.
But what surprised you most wasnât the romance it was the patience.
You were still figuring things out - your career, your place in the world, your voice.
There were nights you came home exhausted, unsure of yourself, questioning if you were doing enough. He never tried to solve you. He just sat beside you, handed you tea and told you, âYouâre allowed to not have it all figured out. You have time.â
And he meant it.
You remember the first time he saw you cry. It wasnât pretty. You were overwhelmed from a late-night anxiety spiral after an argument with your parents, an assignment you thought youâd failed, a thousand little things crashing down all at once.
You hadnât meant to cry in front of him. You tried to hide in the bathroom, wiping your face like that would erase the evidence.
But he came in anyway, sat on the floor with you.
Didnât speak for a while. Just handed you tissues.
Then he said softly, âYou donât have to be strong all the time.â
It broke you more than anything else could have.
And maybe thatâs when you truly fell in love not the rooftop, not the dates but right there, on the cold bathroom tile, with your face blotchy and red and him beside you like it was the most natural place in the world. ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë ŕŁŞđ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â
The soft hum of the television fills the room, barely louder than the rain painting streaks across the windows. Outside, the city glows under a wash of slick pavement and amber streetlights, but inside, the world feels paused as though even time itself is holding its breath.
The movie plays on. Some slow, aching romance, full of longing glances and people who donât say what they mean until itâs nearly too late. Youâve stopped following it.
Your eyes are open, but unfocused somewhere in between watching and waiting. A half-full glass of wine sits on the coffee table, untouched, the condensation slipping down the stem in slow, uneven trails. Your legs are stretched across Lewisâs lap, your ankles tucked loosely together, and his arm rests behind you along the back of the couch.
Still. Too still.
If you were anyone else, you might not notice. But you know him too well or at least, you used to.
His fingers havenât moved in ten minutes. No absentminded brushes against your leg, no subtle tug of the blanket youâre sharing. Nothing but breath and distance. His body is next to yours, but his mind itâs not here. Itâs not with you.
And maybe your heart aches at the thought that maybe it hasnât been for a while.
You study him through your lashes. The sharp line of his jaw locked tight. The muscle ticking in his temple like a metronome. The soft bounce of his foot, subtle and repetitive - the kind of restless twitch he only gets when somethingâs gnawing at him and heâs trying not to let it show.
You lean in slightly, nudging him with your elbow, voice quiet. âLew. You good?â
He blinks once, then again, slower like heâs surfacing from deep water.
When his eyes land on yours, thereâs something about the look that makes your stomach dip. It isnât surprise. Itâs something worse. Like for a second, heâd forgotten you were there. And the fact that he did that hurts more than it should.
âYeah,â he says too quickly, his voice tight. âJust tired.â
A lie. Not cruel. Not even deliberate. Itâs the kind of lie people tell when theyâre trying to shield you from the storm gathering behind their own ribs. The kind meant to protect. The kind that builds walls instead of bridges.
You donât push not yet.
Instead, you shift, curling closer, resting your head on his shoulder.
He doesnât flinch, doesnât lean in or away. He just stays where he is warm, familiar, unmoving. He smells like cedar-wood and expensive cologne, the kind he pretends not to care about but always wears for you anyway.
But even with your body pressed to his, thereâs a canyon between you. Wide. Deep. Carved slowly, silently, over time by things neither of you said when you should have.
The movie ends. The credits roll with soft piano notes that only make the silence louder. Your chest tightens as you wait, sensing the shift about to come.
Lewis exhales. A sound that drags out of him like it hurts. Not just tired heavy. Like heâs been carrying something too long.
âI saw something today,â he says at last, his voice barely above a whisper.
You sit up instinctively, turning toward him. âYeah?â
He rubs a hand across his jaw, the scrape of it soft but raw. âSomeone posted a picture of us from the gala. The one last week.â
You nod slowly, already bracing.
His mouth twists into a bitter smile that never reaches his eyes. âThe caption said, âSheâs young enough to be his daughter.ââ
It hits like a backhand cruel and calculated. Your stomach lurches, not just at the words but at the way he delivers them. Hollow. Detached. Like heâs already replayed them a hundred times in his head.
âIâm sorry,â you murmur, even though it feels insufficient.
He shrugs or tries to. The gesture barely makes it halfway. âDoesnât matter. Itâs not like itâs new.â
But something about the way he says it - flat, final tells you this time, itâs not just noise. This time, it got in. Beneath the skin. Behind the armour.
âBut latelyâŚâ He trails off, eyes fixed on something you canât see. âLately Iâve been wondering if maybe theyâre right.â
The words land with a sickening thud, and your breath catches.
You stare at him. âRight about what?â
He doesnât answer at first. Just laces his fingers together so tightly his knuckles go white. Like heâs holding on to something thatâs slipping anyway.
âThat this isnât fair to you,â he says, his voice rough. âThat one day, youâll wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking. That you couldâve had something easier. Cleaner. Younger.â
You reach for him, but his body remains taut, still leaning back, still trying to protect you from something you didnât ask to be shielded from.
âDonât,â you whisper. âDonât do that.â
âWhat happens when I canât keep up?â he asks, eyes burning. âWhen my body gives out before yours does? When you want kids, and Iâm not sure I have the stamina left to be the father you deserve? When I start to fade, and youâre still glowing like the fucking sun?â
His voice cracks on that last word. You flinch, not from the words but from the raw, unbearable honesty in them.
âYou think I donât think about it?â he continues, almost choking now. âYou think I donât lie awake wondering if loving you means Iâm being selfish? That Iâm stealing time from someone who hasnât already burned half of theirs?â
âLewisââ Your voice is thick, trembling. âYouâre not stealing anything. Youâre -â
He cuts you off, voice broken. âYou deserve a beginning, not a man whoâs already halfway to his end.â
And thatâs what it is, you realise. Not just fear. Itâs grief. Like heâs already mourning something that hasnât even happened yet the version of your life he thinks you wonât get because of him.
Your heart shatters.
You rise to your knees and cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs sweeping over his jaw, soft and trembling. He resists looking at you until you speak.
âLook at me.â
His eyes find yours, slow and reluctant, and what you see in them makes your own vision blur devastation, shame, love. So much love.
âI didnât fall in love with the years between us,â you say quietly. âI fell in love with you. All of you. The man who carries everything on his back and still shows up for the people he loves. The man who makes tea he doesnât even drink because he knows it steadies my hands. The man who makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, Iâm not too much.â
His breathing stutters. You press your forehead to his, your hands still cupping his face like he might disappear if you let go.
âYouâre not holding me back,â you whisper. âYouâre the reason I feel brave enough to move forward.â
He closes his eyes like the weight of your words is too much or maybe itâs the relief of finally hearing them. His hands find your waist, then your back, and he pulls you against him like heâs drowning and youâre the only thing tethering him to the surface.
âI donât know how to stop being scared,â he says, voice muffled against your shoulder.
âYou donât have to,â you whisper into his hair. âJust donât let the fear be louder than the love.â
For a long moment, you just hold each other not fixing, not promising, just being. Letting the silence carry the truth neither of you could say out loud before tonight:
That love, no matter how deep, doesnât always silence doubt.
But it does mean choosing each other anyway.
Even when it hurts.
Especially when it hurts.
He kisses you then slow at first, like he's afraid he might shatter you or himself if he moves too quickly.
His lips tremble against yours, not from passion but from the weight of everything heâs been holding in every doubt, every sleepless night spent staring at the ceiling wondering if heâs good enough, young enough, enough. Itâs not a kiss meant to ignite. Itâs a plea. A confession. A desperate, unspoken question: Are you sure? Are you sure Iâm still what you want?
And you kiss him back like youâre trying to answer all of it. Like youâre pouring every broken piece of your own into the spaces he thinks are unworthy, unlovable, too worn down to offer. You kiss him like youâre trying to glue him together with devotion shaky but unwavering.
When he pulls away, he doesnât look at you right away. His breath is ragged, his eyes wet and his hands tremble ever so slightly where theyâve gripped your waist too tightly as if heâs terrified you might slip through his fingers if he lets go for even a second.
And maybe you would. Maybe thatâs the fear rotting away inside him that no matter how tightly he clings, time will keep ticking, headlines will keep screaming and one day youâll wake up and realise heâs no longer enough to make up for what the world says he lacks.
He doesnât pull you into his lap so much as clings to you, burying his face into the hollow between your neck and shoulder like heâs ashamed of needing this so badly.
Like he doesnât believe he deserves to want you this much. His arms wrap around you with a desperation that makes your heart ache not sweet or soft, but frantic. Like heâs bracing for the moment you vanish. Like if he holds you close enough, maybe the space growing between you will shrink. Maybe the doubt will quiet. Maybe the years will melt away, just for a little while.
And you hold him back just as tightly, fingers threaded through his loose braids, your cheek pressed to the top of his head. You say nothing because thereâs nothing that words can fix, not entirely but you stay.
You stay. In the fear, in the silence, in the aching stretch of a love that sometimes hurts more than it heals. You stay because he needs you to. Because love isnât always loud or easy or fair, sometimes itâs this: two people clinging to each other in the dark, hoping the sun will rise before the doubt wins.
And in that fragile stillness, wrapped in each other like lifelines, you both dare to believe just for tonight that love, your love, might be enough to silence the noise.
Maybe not forever.
But for nowâŚit is. ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë ŕŁŞđ˛áĽŤáĄ â âš Ë Ö´ Öś đ࣪đ˛áĽŤáĄ â
The next morning you wake to the muted trill of your phone on the nightstand. Groggy, you swipe to read the notification another âexclusiveâ splash:
Hamilton and Mystery Woman: Age Difference Raises Eyebrows at Appearance
Your heart thumps in your throat as you scroll. The top comments have already piled up:
âSheâs just chasing clout.â
âHeâs clearly in a midlife crisis.â
âGross. He could be her dad.â
â15-year age gap? God heâs a pervâ
Thereâs no sting of tears just a cold, hollow ache. It isnât shame you feel but worry. You know how deeply Lewis carries these words, how much he protects you from them, and how much they still wound him.
Sliding out of bed, you pull on slippers and pad through to the kitchen, where the morning light slants through floor-to-ceiling windows. Heâs standing at the stove, oats bubbling in a copper pot, the soft beat of lo-fi jazz drifting from the speakers. Steam curls in the cool air.
He glances over his shoulder as you enter, eyes sharp and alert. âSaw it?â he asks, voice low.
You offer a small nod, your words catching midway. âIâm sorry. I hate that they do this to you.â
He shakes his head, tucking a stray loc behind his ear. âDonât be. They donât know us. They donât know you.â He turns back to the oats, spooning them into two bowls.
But the tension in his shoulders tells another story. His mouth presses into a straight line, and you watch his normally relaxed posture stiffen.
You clear your throat. âYou still want to go tonight? To the fashion event?â
He pauses, spoon hovering over the pot. You hold your breath. You imagine him saying itâs too much, that heâd rather keep you free of this glare. Instead, his jaw eases as he meets your eyes.
âYeah.â He scoops a final spoonful and sets the pot aside. âLetâs show them.â
You stand before the full-length mirror in his bedroom, the soft light tracing the curve of your collarbone.
The black gown he picked for you hangs just off the ottoman, the fabric whisper-smooth in your hands. Itâs nearly floor-length, with a thigh-high slit modestly hidden by the way you step into it. You slip on the dress and adjust the V-neck, so it sits perfectly, then smooth your fingers over the satin.
He enters behind you in the doorway, giving you a slow once-around. Youâve seen him stare like this before appreciative, tender and a tiny bit awed.
His navy suit is sharp, the lapels tailored to perfection, and his braids are pulled back so the profile of his cheekbones and jaw are crystal clear. Even the way he stands body relaxed, one hand in his pocket - looks impossibly cool.
âYou lookâŚ,â he breathes, voice husky, âunbelievable.â
Your cheeks warm. âYouâre not too bad yourself.â You offer him a wink.
He helps you into delicate stiletto heels and fastens a simple silver bracelet on your wrist. You reach for your clutch a slim, black leather envelope and together you head downstairs.
The car is waiting sleek, black, windows tinted. As you slide into the backseat, the flashbulbs already begin, staccato bursts of light against the doorframe. You catch your breath.
He leans in beside you, brushing his fingers through yours. âReady?â
You nod, pressing your hand into his. âReady.â
Stepping onto the rooftop terrace, your senses flood - the murmur of VIP guests, the soft glow of Edison bulbs strung overhead, the faint clink of champagne flutes. A gentle breeze stirs your hair, carrying the distant hum of city traffic below.
But the real spectacle is at the staircase: a line of cameras, microphones, and eager faces. Paparazzi jostle, voices rising in a swell of shouted questions:
âLewis! Whoâs your date?â
âIs age just a number to you?â
âWhat do you say to the critics?â
He doesnât hesitate. Hand in yours like a lifeline, he guides you forward. âEvening,â he greets, voice smooth and warm. He tilts his head toward you. âMy partner and I are happy to be here.â
You smile, lifting your chin to the lights. His confidence steadies you reminds you that these flashes donât define you.
A reporter steps forward with a mic. âLewis, youâve faced scrutiny before how does it feel to have headlines about your personal life tonight?â
He glances at you briefly, then back to the camera. âItâs part of the job. But Iâm proud of who Iâm with.â His hand squeezes yours, just enough for the lens to catch. âThatâs what matters.â
Click. Flash. You feel the weight lift off your chest.
You press on, direction of the main terrace, where guests applaud politely as you walk by. He angles his body slightly, shielding you from the harsher lights and you lean into him, remembering that protection feels like this.
Twenty minutes later, you slip inside to find a quieter corner overlooking the skyline. He orders two glasses of champagne, and you clink flutes, the crystal ringing clear against the distant din.
âLook at that,â he says, lifting his glass. âWe did it.â
You laugh softly, the tension finally pouring out. âWe did.â
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. âYouâre incredible. Thank you for standing by me.â
Your heart swells. âThank you for choosing me.â
He holds your gaze steady, unwavering before leaning across the small table to kiss you, passionately and deliberate.
The world may still talk, but right here, right now, it feels like yours alone.
#lewis hamilton#lh44#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#x reader#lh44 x reader#f1 imagine#lewis hamilton x you#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton one shot#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fic#f1 drivers#formula 1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic
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Everyone can heal.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader
Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.
Genre: hurt/comfort.
Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.
This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.
A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!
Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!
I hope you enjoy!!
Logan masterlist.
It had been a long few days.
It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.
Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.
But you wanted to learn. Or... did.
The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.
See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.
It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.
Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.
Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... couldâve been more.
But you couldn't exactly blame him.
This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.
He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.
It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.
The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.
It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed.Â
You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer.Â
It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.
The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.
It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.
Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.
Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.
The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.
Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.
He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.
His eyes were closed.
At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.
Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.
Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.
Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.
Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.
You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.
You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--
And then bam.
Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.
In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.
âWhoa-- hey!â
He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.
They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.
It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.
âLogan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,â you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, âLook, it's me!â And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in.Â
He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.
But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.
Until his gaze lowered.
Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.
So, why did something sound like it was dripping?
âY/n.â
By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. âShit.â
You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.
âLogan?â You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.
There was your answer. âOh.â
Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?
âFuck,â Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. âI'mâŚâ
âI'm sorry,â he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, âI'm so sorry.â
His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.
âLogan,â You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, âHey, look, I'm fine, okay?â you started louder, more insistent, âIt doesn't hurt.â
Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. âI'm sorry.â
He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.
âNo, wait,â You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, âLogan?â
You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.
But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.
~~~
The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.
It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.
You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.
But that was the last thing on your mind.
You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.
Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.
You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.
Until today.
A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.
The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.
It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.
In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.
Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.
Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.
So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.
Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.
More so who.
Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.
Logan.
He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.
There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--
âI didn't mean to hurt you.â
Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.
Your eyebrows furrowed, âLoganââ you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, âJust let me talk,â He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. âOkay?â
You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. âI'm sure you already know,â he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, âabout the... nightmares.â
It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.
âSome are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, butâŚâ Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. âThere are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'mâŚâ
âI'm the one doing it.â It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, âI'm the one hurting people.â
âY/n, I'm sorry.â
âLogan,â you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. âI'm so sorry.â
You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, âHey,â Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.
It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.
But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.
âHey, look at me,â you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldnât want to back off. âLook at me.âÂ
The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. âI'm fine.â you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, âI hurt you.â
âIt was an accident,â Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said shouldâve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, âAccident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.â His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.
âAnd, I'm still here, Logan.â
You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.
A little scratch was nothing. âIt was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.â you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, âWhat-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?â
âNo!â you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. âNo, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.â
You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.
âSee?â
Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.
They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.
âYouâŚâ He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. âYou can regenerate?â
âGranted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.â you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.
Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.
âAre you serious?â The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. âYep.â You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, âYou can heal.âÂ
Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.
You furrowed your eyebrows, âI... I don't really know what else you want me to say.â Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles.Â
It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.
I guess it just slipped your mind.
âSo, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?â The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.
âA damsel?â you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. âYou stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?â
That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. âNo,â you started, this time with a deeper voice. âNo, I didn't-- You know, why?â
âWhy?â Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.
He was supposed to be relieved.
âMaybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!â
The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.
The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.
You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.
It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss.Â
Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?
Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired.Â
Just a different kind.
You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.
Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.
By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.
You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, âI get them too, you know... Nightmares.â
There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, âI wouldn't go about comparing them,âÂ
âBut, I understand enough to know what it's like.â
Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. âYou shouldn't have to.âÂ
He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. âNeither should you.. yet,â you paused, shrugging your shoulders, âHere we are.â
This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, âAt least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.âÂ
The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it.Â
But Logan practically snorted. âShut up.â he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didnât hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, âI could even say that I defeated him.âÂ
In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, âOkay,â He swallowed, âyou did not defeat me, bub.â
âOh, really?â you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. âYou were done after one move.â
Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.
âI was distracted.â he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. âExcuses, excuses,â was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.
Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.
He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.
âI don't want it to happen again.â He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.
âLogan,â you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.
You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.
You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, âEven if it did, I am not going anywhere.â
There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.
Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.
By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.
Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further.Â
His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasnât putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.
An extra weight that you were glad to carry.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x gn reader#wolverine#wolverine x gn!reader#gender neutral reader#hurt/comfort
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Yeah, sheâs my mom.
Sally Jackson x wife reader x son!percy.
-ÂŁ Is this apart of the lore? No. Do I care? Not at all. So forget Gade and have Sally have a good partner. Let Percy have a good step parent. And, because I want her to be my wife.
-ÂŁ Warnings: Show and book spoilers, short, âDeathâ, Demigod luck, everything that happens in the show and the first book but with the reader, my idea of comfort, kinda angst but Iâm trying to make this fluffy. Saying this again. Spoilers for the events that will hopefully be in the next two episodes
there was no doubt in his mind that you were meant to be his mom.
when his mother found you he remembered the glow she started to had. you made her so happy and even he could see that at a young age. but the way you cared for him to without a question, letting him cook with you at times and always poke his face with flour. or the time you sat with him when his mom was sick and played with him for hours and you didnât even bat a eye.
there was always a lovely smell in the air that even he could smell sometimes when he was at school. it was sweet and smelled like every baked good in the world in one place. it brought him comfort. your scent was strong enough to lead monsters away, he didnât smell like a demigod. the way his mother looked at you, the way you held her and helped out, made him realize that true love existed. and you were meant to be in their lives. to be his mother.
he could remember the first time he actually met you.
âhello there,â you bend down so low to his height, or close to it. the warm smile made him feel welcome, âyour mommy says you are special? Thatâs great, I seem to need a helper in the back. you think you can help?â
he looked up at his mom as he clings to her hand, asking for permission. she gave him a slight nod. he let go and gave you the same look and took your hand. âthanks for letting me borrow your little hero.â
that was the first time and for the rest of the day he didnât realize his mom was away. the time with you was so special but he quickly needed a nap and he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie. you were the best babysitter. so every time his mother had somewhere to go he would find himself at your house.
soon after, you moved in with them! It was great since he got to see you all the time now. Then he got enrolled into school and he saw less of you but couldnât help but count down the second he could see his mom and you.
sally, she was the best lover in the whole world. she was so loving to you. making your heart swell with warmth when you were near her. she had some fire in her and you loved that about her, unless you were on the end of that. there was no life without her.
so you two got married.
years after being sent to school after school, Sally could see how worried you became. and it pained her to never tell you the truth of who Percy was, who his father was, and much more. you constantly looked for schools to fit him and offered to get a extra job just to send him there. but each time she refused because they would be to far away.
but when percy came home. after she got a call from grover. âDear, I think me and percy need some time to..â she glanced at him as he looked at her confused, âhave some time alone.â Thatâs not how it ever went done. you all did things together.
âOf course.â you just smiled as you always did. understanding. you reached for him and ruffled his hair. âBe good for your mother, got it?â He huffed to fake being annoyed and agreed. he was sad you couldnât come
if only he knew that would be the last time he saw you for a long time.
the trip to the beach cabin was smooth. him and his mom being normal as always and reconnecting their memories. until the night went south when he started to share his doubts with his mom. that he was broken. he was convinced that everything about him wasnât normal. it didnât help when his mom told him the truth of who his father was, and what that made him.
everything was so confusing, Grover turning out to be a goat. Them being chased by a minotaur ďżźwith underpants, going to a âcampâ for half-bloods like him? Yeah, he was probably going crazy.
âMom!â Percy yelled as he watched his mom reach out to him one last time until she turned to dust in the monster hands. every part of his body boiling with anger that she was taken away. he saw you. how you had just lost your wife too but you had no clue, sitting at home all alone while everything went down.
you didnât know. that sally was dead, that percy was safe, where he was or his mom. how scared you must be feeling right now. and it took all his willpower to stop himself from buying tickets back home and see you while he was supposed to be looking for the lighting bolt.
when he saw the video of you crying on tv he started to tear up. you defended him from all the accusations that he was involved. saying there was no way your sweet boy would ever hurt his mother.
âIf youâre seeing this, come home.â
he almost died so many times. but he had to save his mom, he had to get himself and her back to you.
hades was touched by percyâs actions and ďżź released his mother after everything went down. his mom returned. The manhunt for him resolved. But there was a new war coming, and he was betrayed. And even if he needed to stay at camp for the whole year and train. There was only option he could take.
To go back home.
#percy jackson imagine#Sally Jackson x reader#platonic percy jackson#Percy Jackson x reader#fluff#percy jackson and the olympians x reader
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breaking news!
pairing: milf! reader x pre-re2 leon
cws/tags: protected p in v, virginity loss, leon cumming immediately, coming untouched, talking about past somno (implied to be consensual), presumably established relationship, no description of reader beyond cis female who has had a child and is older than leon, reader POV, no use of y/n
summary: leon doesn't wanna die a virgin! shit goes down in july '98 (bizarre murders occur in raccoon city etc. you know the monologue), and leon sees it on the news, decides he's gotta fuck before he becomes a cop fr.
a/n: this is part 3 to cool mom's countdown. i wasn't sure how to tag some stuff bc it's like they're having sex rn but reader is thinking about stuff they've done in the past too, so it's kinda a little time-skipping sometimes. (past things are italicized for your reading pleasure)
wc: 1.7k
taglist: @onlyasimp4-2dbitches @puppedup @nilpill @sya-skies @shiawaseorii
@rigorwhoring @porcelainseashore
@tieabowaroundme @frankieeeeesblog @kerredgraveblog
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At first, your relationship with Leon made you feel old -- all of the pop culture references youâd make flew over his head, and you realized how out of the loop you were when it came to modern slang when you had to ask Leon for the definition of approximately one word per sentence he spoke. While miscommunications arose through conversations, you were in sync when it came to sex.Â
In the proverbial bedroom, Leon made you feel young again. After work one Friday night, you made out on the couch until you insisted that you needed to freshen up before your movie date, and ended up sitting on the bathroom counter with Leonâs head between your thighs, and, to pay him back, you jerked him off in the theater.
Youâd been together for a good six months before you finally went all the way. You told Leon from the beginning that you wouldnât have sex with him until he was 100% sure he was ready. A sweet boy like him deserved to have a good first time.Â
After a gourmet meal of macaroni and cheese plus whatever else you could find in the cabinet, the two of you shared a six pack on the back porch while watching the sun set over the suburbs. It was romantic, minus the topic of conversation -- everyone was talking about the bizarre murders in the Arklay Mountains which werenât far from where you lived. Leon was glued to the TV, watching updates as they appeared on the news over the course of the past week.Â
It was disturbing enough to hear the outlandish reports of families being attacked by a group of about 10 people, but the victims were apparently eaten. And, you couldnât bear the thought of Leon being a member of that STARS team that went missing.Â
Leon had always been insistent on joining the force, but being forced to actively accept your own mortality can be a scary experience for even the bravest. However, Leonâs biggest fear wasnât death itself.Â
âI keep seeing those cops on the news -- the ones from the RPD who died and I donât wanna die a virgin.â
âWhat?â His train of thought blew past about 10 stops before arriving at its destination, it seemed. You struggled to put the pieces together.Â
âThatâll be me pretty soon -- well, not necessarily dead, hopefully not, just part of the RPD, I mean. But, since thereâs a real chance I could die, I would like to lose my virginity.â
Talking about death put a bit of a damper on the mood, but Leon could get you riled up in the most inappropriate of situations.Â
âI told you we can do it whenever youâre ready,â you said nonchalantly.Â
âWhat I meant was, Iâm ready now.â
Your first instinct was to look down towards the front of his jeans.Â
âMentally,â he clarified when he saw you checking for a bulge in his pants.Â
You swiftly led him up to your bedroom and by the time your lips were on his neck, he was physically ready for you too. Leonâs a sucker for hickies. Pun intended.Â
âIt makes me feel like Iâm yours,â he mentioned one night, wearing a stupid grin and smudged lipstick - both courtesy of you.  Â
âYou are mine,â you said, cupping his cheek, âand Iâm yours.â
âThen, can I give you one too?âÂ
He shouldnât. You already felt out of place at the neighborhood book club, and you didnât want Karen and Cheryl (or whatever their names are) to think youâre a complete whore.Â
Fuck it. They could stare all they wanted. Bring on their jealousy-fueled disgust.Â
You exposed your neck to Leon and let him suck lightly at the skin. As it turned out you liked them quite a bit too.Â
When you told Leon he was yours and vice versa, you meant it, but tonight you were really going to seal the deal.Â
It was a dance of tipsy fumbling around as oneâs first time should be. Giggling while barely holding yourselves back from ripping each otherâs clothes off.Â
âYouâre so needy,â you whispered into his ear, though you were the one palming him through his underwear.Â
âNo... youâre just hot... I canât help being like this around you.â
âYeah? Then how do you think I feel around a handsome young man like you?â You took his hand and gently guided him to feel your arousal through your panties.Â
He inhaled sharply, and you felt his needy cock twitch against your hand which had yet to slip inside his boxers. Poor thing, he was always so desperate.Â
Not that you minded â not even when youâd wake up in the middle of the night to him rutting his hips into you from behind. He did this often in his sleep â he thought it was embarrassing, but you thought it was endearing. Heâd mumble your name and coax your hand back to his hard-on if you ever dared to retract it.Â
Leon hooked his fingers in the fabric of your panties and slid it to the side, teasing your folds with his touch.Â
In retaliation and reward, you took his length in your hand, planning to give him the same languid, tantalizing strokes he was giving you. But he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.Â
âWait-â he said, breath shaky with what you assumed to be nerves.
You backed off completely. âLeon, Iâm so sorry. If youâre not ready tonight, we can do this some other-â
â-Iâm ready, too ready. Just thinking about getting to be inside you is making me feel... really good already, so, um, if you touch me like that, I might not be able- I might cum before I can actually... you know...â
âFuck me?â God, it was so cute how flustered heâd get over the simplest things.Â
âYeah, fuck you.â He couldnât curse in front of you without blushing. It took him a while to adjust to calling you by your first name instead of âmaâamâ, so you couldnât blame him for feeling awkward cursing around you. The redness in his cheeks only rose when he realized how his statement - fuck you - couldâve been interpreted.Â
âNo, wait, not fuck you, I mean, I wanna fuck you... in a good way. I wanna make you feel good,â he clarified.
âThen come here,â you lied back on the bed and beckoned him closer.Â
âYes, maâam.â Typical. You had to resist the urge to call him a âgood boyâ, knowing those words alone might make him cum in his pants.Â
It wouldnât be the first time. Once, while he was going down on you -- on his knees at the edge of your bed, his favorite position -- you told him how he was such a good boy for making you feel so good, and though his hands remained gripping your thighs, holding them open so he could bury his face in your cunt, your orgasm triggered his, and he came completely untouched.Â
You grabbed a condom from your bedside table -- you were on the pill, and neither of you were seeing anyone else, but you were pretty sure that his cock wouldnât make it inside you if you told him he could fuck you raw -- and you handed him the packet.Â
âDo you know how to do it?â
âYeah, they made us try putting them on bananas in health class.â
âThank your health teacher for me, then, will you?â
âUm, I donât know if Mr-â
âIâm kidding, baby.â
âThis is no time for joking around. Youâre breaking my concentration,â he said, but his smile betrayed any facade of seriousness.Â
When he successfully put it on, you said, only half-joking, âIâm proud of you, baby.â
âDonât say that,â he said -- no, whined.Â
âWhy not?â
âGonna make me cum too quick.â
If only he knew that his bashfulness, his pretty, whiny voice, and his desperation were going to make you cum quicker than you usually would.Â
âOkay. I wonât say anything.â
âAt least tell me if Iâm doing it right, like, if Iâm putting it in the right hole.â
âYouâre doing fine so far.â
He nodded and took a breath before positioning himself at your entrance. When he pressed the tip inside you, you moaned simultaneously. You wanted to beg him to keep going, you wanted to feel all of him, but you knew you needed to let him set the pace.Â
âYou feel so good, youâre so tight...â His thoughts were mostly tame, things youâd heard men say before but he was so genuine, couldnât even help running his mouth -- until his words were reduced to nothing but moans. Pornographic, pathetic, sexy.Â
When heâd finally buried himself to the hilt, he stilled his hips, keeping both of your orgasms at bay. Your hands never left his body because you couldnât get enough of him, not even when he was entirely inside you. You thought you were being gentle but the marks left on his skin said otherwise.Â
Eventually, he began to thrust in and out of you slowly, and you could see that he was holding himself back.Â
âLeon, baby, you know you can go as slow or as fast as you want, yeah?â
âI wanna go faster but if I do, Iâm gonna cum,â he said as if that wouldnât be the hottest thing he could do.Â
âYeah? I wanna see you cum, baby.â
âFuck, really? Already?âÂ
He didnât wait for a response before he increased the pace of his thrusts rapidly, his hips leading and his mind following.Â
You tried to answer, but he was brushing against that sensitive spot inside you over and over again, so all you could manage was an âuh-huhâ.Â
Frantically, he said, âIâm gonna cum, Iâm gonna cum,â with a mixture of pleas and apologies. Neither of which you needed.Â
When he came, he threw his head back and let out an unbridled moan followed by labored breaths.Â
The sight of him sent you over the edge, scrambling for something to hold onto, your nails dug into his back. You nearly screamed his name as you shuddered through your high.Â
When you returned to reality, you saw complete bewilderment on Leonâs face. âDid you just cum?â
âUh, yeah?â you couldnât help but laugh a bit as you said it.Â
âI made you cum?â
âUh-huh.â
Flopping down next to you, satisfied with himself, he asked, âCan we do that again?â
âLike right now?â
âYeah, that was amazing.â
And you couldnât agree more.
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you
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YOOOO THE âfiguring out how to control his strengthâ fic was SO GOOD, I saw spanking at the end of that, a wee request to expand on that idea mayhaps đ
Kissing you for enabling me, mwah mwah mwah. I tried going with gender neutral reader for the last one but had to switch to female for this one. Hope that's ok! I'm happy you enjoyed the last one hopefully this one hits the spot!đ
[Masterlist] [A follow up to this]
18+ Only | 1.5k | Homelander x female!Reader | Communicating during sex. Spanking. Riding. Unprotected sex. A dash of dirty talk.
Homelander has been trying to get his paws under your clothes for the past hour of the movie you were adamant you should be watching together. âItâs my favorite movie!â You had said earlier. And not that he has anything against sharing your interests, he loves having every piece of you to himself. But now you are warm and soft against him, cuddling and leaning into him in a way that pretty much puts you in his lap.
He inhales the lingering fragrance of the expensive hair products he got for you. Something in him stirring at the thought of how utterly heâs changing your life, marking you with his touch with every little change heâs making to your routine. Ever since heâs had you move into his penthouse heâs been meddling with every aspect of your life, wanting to add his touch. Just as a reminder that you were his. So anytime you spritz his choice of perfume you think of that and in turn he gets reminded everyday that you make the choice to be his again and again and again.
So itâs no surprise that heâs now peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, pulling you closer no matter how much you protest. âCome on babe, fuck the movie. We can finish it another time.â
âBut itâs my favoriteâŚâ You pout like a child, trying to pull away but heâs having none of it.
âShhh. Come on now, donât be like this.â Heâs nuzzling into your neck. His hands wrap around your body, resting on top of your tits, giving your nipples a pinch through the fabric. âBe a good girl for me.âÂ
Now that sends a shiver down your spine, slowly pooling heat in between your legs. It also gives you a great idea.Â
âYeah? Well, maybe you should spank me for misbehaving.â Youâre not facing him but the cheekiness of your grin is audible.
However as much as youâd prefer him to lean into the dirty roleplay of it all, he pulls away, tensing up.
You turn to face him.
âAre you sure? You know I could hurt you.â Heâs carrying his worry openly. But just like with the choking you know thereâs nothing this man wouldnât do for you.Â
âWeâve been over this baby. Sometimes the pain just makes things feel better.â You caress his cheek, giving him a sweet kiss flush on the lips before you pull away and take matters into your own hands. You lay yourself over his lap, face down, wiggling your ass right in front of him.
Tucking your fingers underneath both the waistband of your soft luxurious loungewear and the panties heâs picked for you, you pull both pieces down to reveal the bare skin of your ass.
âSoâŚmaybe you could spank me for not giving you enough attention?â You try to tease him into it, shaking your hips gently to give him the green light.
This does the trick. Homelander places both his hands on your cheeks, giving them a squeeze, really just playing with the softness of the flesh before he remembers what heâs meant to be doing.
Slap.
âHoly shit! Oh-ohhkayy. Fuck. T-that was pretty hard.â His hand is rigid, hard, unforgiving. With his added strength it was definitely a lot for the first slap. So sharp it jerks tears out of your eyes.Â
âFuckâIâm sorry! Iâm sorry.â You can hear the fear and panic in his voice. In this instance itâs both at the idea of hurting you and at disappointing you with not being able to do the act justice.
You gather yourself, as the sting slowly eases off.Â
âNo, no. Itâs okay. It wasnât bad, it was just a lot. Just rub it a bit. It helps with the stinging.â His hand is barely touching you now, almost worried that he could cause more damage but he rubs your sore skin anyway. His touch is soothing. His hands are perfect. Unmarred, not a single scar or blemish and you feel the softness melding right against your ass. Â
âNext time, keep your fingers together. Keep your hand loose, relaxed. Donât make it too stiff.â You give him instructions, not wanting to dissuade him from continuing. It may have been hard and definitely a slap youâd be more likely to handle better as the spanking went on rather than from the start but it was still exhilarating.Â
âHomelander,â you say his name, to break him from the trance while heâs still rubbing your ass gently. And as much as that feels good you really want to get the party started so you convey the need for more with a little, âplease?â
He takes your instructions to heart and he slaps your ass again. This time a little gentler. With his palm less splayed open it makes a deeper sound which is just music to your ears.Â
âOh fuuuck.â And it feels just as good as it sounds. Really good. Its gentle sting burns through your skin, thoroughly wetting your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the sensation.Â
âWas that better?â He asks with gentleness you never expected him to be capable of. Â
âY-yeah.â You slurp back the saliva you feel pooling in your mouth. âIt was perfect.â
He takes that as his hint to continue as he lands another. And another one. And more. All in the same spot. Your skin is getting brighter and brighter red. The burn is making your toes curl and your pussy throb.
The more you moan the more he spanks you, alternating between your cheeks until theyâre both screaming bright red.Â
âJesus Christ, youâre leaking all over me.â Homelander says in an almost incredulous tone, as if heâs surprised that pain could make you this riled up. Finally, he sees it for the pleasure it gives you.
âUhh, s-sorry.â You slur, drooling, already having melted into the couch.Â
âYouâre really fucking kinky, you know that?âÂ
You laugh at that. âWhat can I say? I know what I like.âÂ
âClearly.â He ran his hand down the hot, red skin, making you hiss. His hands settled in between your cheeks, spreading them out while his other hand made its way to your pussy, sliding his fingers through the mess you made of yourself.Â
âMy, my, that got you excited.â He shoved two fingers in, meeting no resistance as he pumped them in and out. Even with the TV playing in the background the squelching sound of you is still obscenely loud. You should be embarrassed, really, but it feels so good to finally have something soothe the throbbing pain thatâs been building up with each slap.Â
âFuuck. Can I have you, please?â You whine out, really just wanting to get pounded into the couch while youâre feeling all woozy.
âSo you want me to spank you, and now you want me to fuck you? See, good girls participate. So hop on sweetheart. You gotta work for it too.â Now he was getting it. With his reservations out of the window, he slips right into teasing you.
You feel yourself flush and throb at his words. Heâs so good to you. No matter what, he always makes you feel otherworldly.
With his help you peel yourself off the couch, straddling his lap where heâs pushed down his pants. His cock already hard and flushed red. Just like your cheeks.
You sink down on him, letting out a whimper when your cheeks meet his thighs. The skin on skin contact burns, reminding you of each slap you received. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, but really you just want to be close to him.
He kisses you, as if heâs been starved for it. This whole time you were facing away from him so itâs not like he could have enjoyed your gasps and moans against his lips.
You ride him as hard as your thighs allow, chasing the high of feeling full after the empty feeling you had to take each slap with. With each bounce your ass meets his thighs and your eyebrows pinch together in pain. Good pain. Youâre sure he can feel just how blazing hot your cheeks feel.
Homelander grabs your ass from both sides, helping you up and down. His hands squeeze the bruising flesh, making you gasp for air.
âGood?â He asks as he massages the flesh, catching you off guard by another slap.
âYea-AH!âsâgood. Really fucking good.â You mumble, your speech slurring as you lean your forehead against his. It was intimate and debauched at the same time and it didnât take either one of you long to finish. His cock was hitting you just right and with the added sting of your skin and the occasional slap he landed on alternating cheeks you unraveled on his lap. As you cling onto him with spent, burning thighs he finishes inside you with a few more strokes and you fully collapse into his arms.Â
âSee? I told you itâd be fun.â Youâre panting against him, trying to calm your poor body down. Spent, satisfied and still burning up. You wonder how long youâre gonna feel that everytime you sit.
Hopefully for a while.
âMhm. You got any more of these great ideas?â
Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood
#my sentences are messyyyyyy but I'm sure it's readable enough lol#I should've been doing chores! and look at this#also aren't his hands so pretty#I was looking for a shot where he's sitting on a couch with his bare hands - which there aren't a lot of sadly!!#so imagine yourself on his lap there heheh#homelander x reader#homelander x you#homelander#homelander fanfiction#my writing#the boys fanfiction#fic request#asks
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Angel
Ghostface Ă Female!Reader
CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.
Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol
This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~
I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol
I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!
Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! đŞđâ¨ď¸
AO3 Link
This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello.Â
âHey! Howâre you doinâ tonight?âÂ
âHey there~âÂ
The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you.Â
âWoahââ You poked cheekily, âI dunno if I've heard you say anything before.âÂ
âI'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,â He offered smoothly, âBut I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.âÂ
âFairââÂ
The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, âSo.. what's your favorite scary movie?âÂ
Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, âHmmnn that's actually a good questionâ I think if we're just talkinâ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.
âButâ that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/Sââ
He cut your train with a light chuckle, âI definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, whatâs your favorite slasher movie?âÂ
You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, âThat's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddyâ but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honestâ horny.âÂ
âOh yeah?â He hummed, âWhy's that?âÂ
How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, âI mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond thatâ between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's motherââÂ
âGoddamnââ Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, âGood girl~ You sure do know your stuff.â Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, âGood girlâ.Â
Good girl?!
âExcuââ
âI fuckinâ love girls like youââ He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, âYour type always knows how really appreciate us..âÂ
âUsâ?
Before you could get a word in, he went on, âBuuut it looks like that's my cueâ I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.â Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened.Â
The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.
âYeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you needâ so.. let's behave.. alright..?â The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back.Â
Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, âHey you there?âÂ
Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, âYeah-â He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.
âGood, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckinâ weird.âÂ
Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it. Â
A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, âUhâ Sameâ he is kinda weird, I'veâ talked to him a little bit and he justâ seems like a bit of a creep..â
âOooh shit whaddaya mean?âÂ
He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, âHe uhâ waited for everyone to leaveâ and then started hella chatting me upââÂ
âAre you good? It sounds like you're doing something.âÂ
Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, âYeah I'm fineâ I think I pulled a muscle and Iââ
âOh shitâ sorry, one secâ groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!â
At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.
âGo on.. stay in that call.. let âem all know what a stagy little whore you are.â He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim.Â
No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up.Â
âMmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.â Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts.Â
Defiance sparked in you to bite back, âIf we'reâ oh godâ following the rules, you'll just do it anywayââÂ
The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, âTrue.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckinâ saga..â
Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,
Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.
You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard.Â
âWhatâs wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?âÂ
You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.
âMmmmâ remember a couple weeks backâ we were all watching that scary movieâ when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival rideâ fuck you don't know what that did to meâ hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a killâ goddamn you don't have a fuckinâ clueâ how bad I wanted bust through that fuckinâ window and tear you apartââÂ
Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder.Â
âSee.. I knew you'd love it..âÂ
Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.
Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier.Â
The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you.Â
âOh fuckâ I'm going to smear your blood over my every fucking pore!â The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole.Â
Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison:Â
âYou think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goinâ fucking anywhere.â
#dead by daylight#dbd#dead by daylight fanfiction#dbd fanfiction#danny johnson#danny johnson x reader#danny johnson x you#danny johnson x y/n#danny jed johnson#danny jed johnson x reader#danny jed johnson x you#danny jed johnson x y/n#jed olsen#jed olsen x reader#jed olsen x you#jed olsen x y/n#ghostface#ghostface x reader#ghostface x you#ghostface x y/n#ghost face#ghost face x reader#ghost face x you#ghost face x y/n#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis x you#billy loomis x y/n#stu macher#stu macher x reader
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The off the record story



Summary: A cheating ex, a golden Amex, and tequila-fueled revengeâwhat could go wrong? Meeting him wasnât part of the plan, but sometimes the best nights start with chaos and end with unexpected sparks. Pairing: mgg x actress!reader Tw: alcohol consumption, cheating, kinda emotional manipulation?, revenge, mention of being drunk idk what else lol wc: 1.8k! A/N: this is my first post and im so anxious omg hopefully you will like it! Masterlist
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Matthew and you actually knew each other way before you started being coworkers in Criminal Minds. If somebody asked you in an interview you would say it was on the set of âThe beauty insideâ, where you had so much fun together running across the museum for the shots.
The reality, though, was better.Â
You had actually met on a night that started as personal revenge. The plan was to wear your best outfit, steal your boyfriend's credit card and max it out in every expensive bar you could find in New york. Why? you had found out he was cheating you with a model. Were you going to cry yourself to sleep? probably later, because it did hurt. But for now? Fuck him and his stupid songs, they were too generic anyway and you were a rising star among movie directors.Â
It was in the third bar that you and Matthew crossed paths, introduced through a friend who knew him from college. You already had two shots in your system by then, the awkwardness and ability to feel cringe burned away by tequila and adrenaline.
âHey guys! This is my friend Matthew! we were together in college!â Your friendâs voice was too cheerful, slurring slightly as she swayed on her heels. Matthew gave a small wave, his hand awkwardly brushing through his messy hair, looking every bit the guy who didnât belong in a place like this.
You barely registered his name at first, your head still buzzing with tequila and the bitter satisfaction of using Austinâs credit card. But when you glanced up from the dance floor and noticed there were more people in the group and that your feet were starting to hurt, time to get more booze.Â
Walking to the table, you called out to everyone while looking for the Golden Amex. âOkay, everyone, I am not feeling drunk enough, so to the bar we go!â You held up the card between your middle and index finger, grinning as the table erupted in cheers and a few drumrolls pounded on the wood. You led the charge, your friends stumbling after you in a glorious, tipsy parade.
âHi Joe! We need to max this baby out, so letâs start withâŚâ You glanced back at your friends for inspiration, counting them off and ticked off a list of drinks for the group, each one more elaborate than the last, adding, âAnd a Espresso Martini for me. For the drama.â
Joe gave you an amused look, already knowing exactly what you meant, he was the one whoâd caught your boyfriend in the act, after all. He wasnât just your bartender tonight; he was part of the crew that had helped you plot your revenge,"Anything else?" he asked, still shaking a cocktail.
You glanced at the guy your friend had just introduced as Matthew. He stood slightly apart from the group, looking a little too put-together for the chaos around him. âAnd what about you?â
Matthew shook his head awkwardly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. âUh, Iâm fine, thanks.â
You couldnât help but notice his messy chocolate curls along with his hazel eyes and the way his shirt fit, casual but not careless. âOh, come on,â you teased, leaning a little closer. âI love spending money when Iâm drunk, so the more expensive your order is, the more Iâll like you.â You flashed him a tipsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded and daring.
Matthew gave a soft laugh but shook his head again. âIâm good, really.â
You turned to the group, just in case. âAnyone else want something exotic or complicated, like a Negroni or a frozen margarita? Iâm on a roll here.â You gave Matthew a playful look, fully expecting him to refuse again.
Rolling your eyes dramatically at his denial, you turned back to the bartender. âAnd a tequila shot, please. If he wonât drink it, I will.â You kissed the card and handed it over.
When you turned back, Matthew had moved closer, leaning slightly against the bar. âYou donât look like your name is Austin,â he said, his tone light but curious.
You chuckled at the way he said it, drawing out the name as if testing it. âWell, itâs not.â You extended your hand, introducing yourself with a grin. He took it, his grip warm but hesitant, and maybe your hand lingered a second longer than it should have. Or maybe it was just the alcohol.
âItâs my boyfriendâs... soon-to-be exâs name,â you explained, motioning toward the card now sitting on the bar.
Matthew raised an eyebrow. âSo, let me get this straight: youâre celebrating by using his card to buy drinks for a crowd of people?â
âExactly,â you said with a grin, lifting your espresso martini as the bartender placed it in front of you. âItâs what he deserves. A little payback for cheating with some model.â
As an actress and newly public figure, you didn't want too much pictures of yourself getting wasted at a bar at the moment, the public would understand it once the news of your unloyal boyfriends gets out, but for now nobody except your friends knew, not even Austin knew that you knew, but alcohol made everything seem so stupid and funny and who cares right? The fact that he had cheated did hurt you, not like a full heartbreak what-did-i-do-wrong? type of thing, you considered that you both were a good couple and you both got introduced to each other by your agents saying it would be good to be seen together as a rising singer and rising actress. And it was him the one who insisted on being fully exclusive and very public, after the rumors about you and your costar and love interest in the show you were in, so why take the effort to just screw up anyway?.
Matthew raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. "So you're celebrating by maxing out your boyfriend's card before dumping him?"
You grinned, leaning slightly closer. "Exactly. Call it... a down payment on my emotional damages. And trust me, Matthew," you drawled, savoring his name like the martini you were drinking, "I deserve every penny."
As you sipped your drink, you studied him more closely. His curls were slightly messy, his hazel eyes warm but cautious. There was something familiar about him. âWait a second,â you said, narrowing your eyes. âI know Iâve seen you before.â
He gave a small shrug. âMaybe. I had a small role in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou recently.â
Your eyes lit up. âThe one with the little curls! I knew it! Iâm a huge Wes Anderson fan.â
He chuckled. âGood taste.â
âAnd you? Netflix, right?â he asked.
âHBO,â you corrected, taking another sip. âCity Lights.â you said casually, trying not to make it a big deal. âItâs still pretty new, but people seem to like it so far.â
You were actually really proud of yourself for being in that show, the numbers were going up and your dream was going from a thin line to a more consistent future where your parents expectations did not matter.Â
He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. âI think Iâve heard of it. Sounds like itâs picking up steam.â
You grinned, tapping your glass against the bar. âWell, letâs hope so. Otherwise, Iâll just have to keep crashing bars with stolen credit cards for fun.â
Matthew laughed, shaking his head. âI have a feeling you wonât need to do that for long.â
âAnd what about you? will i see you in the big screen any time soon?â you asked
He chuckles and shakes his head âHardly.. i've been auditioning for this show.. they called me for a third time this morning and said again that im perfect just totally wrong for the partâ
You huff with humor as Joe slid the rest of drinks across the counter, and you pushed the tequila shot towards him. "Here. Your reward for getting casted."
"I told you, I don't really drink plus i haven't got the part," he protested.
"Matthew," you said dramatically, as if it was the most serious thing in the world, "A face like that is the type that gets casted and if you donât take this shot, Iâm going to have to drink it, and Iâll probably embarrass myself. Do you want that on your conscience?"
He laughed, genuinely this time, and finally picked up the shot glass. "Fine. But only because I don't want to be responsible for whatever happens next."
You clinked your glass against his. "Good choice."
As you both downed your drinks, you couldnât help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, curious and maybe even intrigued.
Before you could reply, your blurry vision caught sight of Austin walking into the bar.
Your smile froze for half a second. Then, with the skill of an actress, you stood up, finishing your martini in one last sip before looking at Matthew. You grabbed his arm with a grin. âIt was nice meeting you, Matthew,â you said. âBut if the tabloids ask, I paid for this martini myself.â
His laugh followed you as you walked away, maybe letting your arm linger a little, slipping into the role of the charming, oblivious girlfriend for Austinâs benefit.
The second part of your plan was in motion now. Getting Austin wasted wouldnât be difficult, he was a lightweight, after all, and when he eventually found out about the card, you'd just say it was probably someone else who stole it when he was drunk and used it. By the time the dust settled, youâd be long gone. You were sure of it.
You flashed your best smile, scrunching your nose at him playfully, something you knew would make him think you were still into him. The truth? You couldnât stand him anymore. But the smile felt easy enough. It wasnât like you had to try to be nice to him anymore. You were almost done with him, just had to play it out a little longer.
But as you laughed and played your part, you felt the weight of Matthewâs gaze on you. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe some chocolate curls or maybe it was something else, but for a moment, Austin didnât seem all that important anymore.
The night ended with Joe calling you to say the card had reached its limit, you secretly high five all your friends, including Matthew, as you signed the receipt, doing a quick math for Joeâs collaboration, leaving a very good tip.
So yeah, if anyone asks, you and Matthew met on set. Not in a bar, not with tequila and revenge. Definitely not while maxing out Austinâs credit card. Just a normal, boring introduction, nothing worth writing about.
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just go with it
melissa schemmenti x fem!reader
summary: reader runs into an old frenemy at the bar and enlists melissa to play her date. hidden feelings are revealed. inspired by the movie just go with it.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: alcohol (beer), swearing, old bully.
a/n: this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3 i think i included all the warnings but as always pls let me know if i missed anything! if u wanna be added to my taglist just lmk or fill out my form on my masterlist!
The night hadnât exactly gone to plan, not that you were complaining. The Abbot family were supposed to be celebrating reaching the end of another quarter, even going as far as to select a bar up to Avaâs standards with extravagant cocktails and comfortable booths (but still with a generic enough dart board that Melissa would turn up). Ava had shoot down your usual place saying, âGirl, Iâve got a reputation to uphold and even entering that place would lose me 1K on Instagram,â
However things had immediately started to splinter when Gregory and Janine failed to turn up, still very much in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. And then Barbara had ordered two cocktails which had immediately gone to her head and called Gerald to come and pick her up. Jacob got a text for Avi and ducked out apologetically, Mr Johnson disappeared somewhere, and then Ava declared she couldnât be seen dead out in only a group of three so she ditched, which meant less than two hours into the night only you and Melissa remained at the bar.Â
Youâd initially been irritated, having looked forward to a family night out all week. But when Melissa dragged you to the dart board saying âWe donât need âem.â, her hand warm in yours and her smile bright. Youâd suddenly forgotten every thought youâd ever had.
âAnother bullseye for me!â Melissa smirks victorious, dancing as she turns around to face you. âI think that means ya owe me a drink, hon.âÂ
You roll your eyes, but canât bring yourself to care that deeply at the sight of the redheads joy. She seems to be having a great time, despite everyone leaving. And youâre determined to soak up every moment of this additional out-of-school Melissa time until she decides to call it a night.Â
It feels like a blessing, and the sight of her in a strappy leopard print top with enough cleavage to cause your brain to short circuit when sheâd first arrived definitely didnât hurt. She looked beautiful with her red curls down past her neck, and her brown leather jacket and red high heels on. Any day now you were gonna get this raging crush under control and not look at Melissa Schemmenti and see the sun, any dayâŚÂ
âŚjust not today if your traitorous heart had any say.Â
âAnother of the same?â You ask, nodding towards her beer with a grin on your lips.Â
âYou betcha.â She shimmies closer to you, her teeth biting into her lip. âAnd when youse get back weâll have another game. If you can take the heat.âÂ
Your face heats up and you force out a laugh to cover up how wildly attractive you find her. You push yourself off the barstool and side step her. âUh yeah, another game sounds good. Iâll be right back.â You step back, giving her a slightly too tight smile before you run away to the bar.Â
So chill Y/N. Wow, excellent game. If she didnât want you before, I bet she does now.
You groan as you approach the bar, resisting every bone in your body that wants you to slam your head very hard against the bartop to hopefully knock some sense into yourself because that was just plain embarrassing. Instead, you settle on waving down the bartender and ordering two yuengling's.Â
They make quick work of your order and you pay and mutter a polite, âThanks,â before turning away with your drinks, ready to head back to Melissa. Determined to not make a complete fool of yourself this evening.Â
âY/N L/N!â A shrill voice calls and your blood runs cold, âOh my god, is that really you?âÂ
Your eyes fall close as you blow out a breath and send a hail mary that maybe, just maybe, that voice wonât be connected to the woman you believe it to be.Â
Of course, life doesnât work like that and when you open your eyes you come face to face with your old college âfriendâ. If a friend meant someone who constantly put you down and had to be better than you at all times. Suddenly the last day of college doesnât seem long enough ago, god you couldâve gone the rest of your life without seeing this woman and that still wouldnât have made up for the torment of the three years of friendship with her.Â
âAlisha, Hi.â You grimace. âFancy seeing you here.âÂ
âI know!â She cackles, âIâd never expect you to be somewhere this close to classy. I remember the dives you loved in college.â
Your smile tightens and you force a humourless laugh. âWell, great to see you Alisha, but I really should be getting back to-â
âNo, no, no, come on we must catch up!â She interrupts. She shakes her hair performatively and presents her hand, showing off an obnoxious diamond, âI, of course, got married. My husband is here actually and you must meet him.â
âCongrats, but I really should be getting back to my-âÂ
âIâm sure your friend wonât mind.â Alisha waves a hand.Â
She grabs the hand not holding the two bottles of beer, her face etched with pity. âI noticed you donât have a wedding band. Itâs okay, your time will come.â
You try to shake your hand free, but Alishaâs grip tightens. âSeriously, Y/N, not everyone can be as lucky as-â
âHey hon, everythinâ alright?â Melissa interrupts, an obvious edge to her voice. Her hand perches on the small of your back as she gives Alisha a once over, and despite the other woman being four inches taller than her, you know Melissa could take her effortlessly.Â
Alishaâs eyes widen before melting into a smirk as she extends her hand, âAlisha, Y/Nâs closest friend from college.âÂ
Melissa looks at you before looking back at Alisha and scoffing, âRight.âÂ
Alisha drops her hand, but doesnât look disturbed, in fact she looks more excited than youâve ever seen her, if you exclude that one house party she threw where she got the entire football team to attend and ended up sleeping with the quarterback.Â
More than slightly disturbed, you push the beer in Melissaâs direction, âHere, sorry.â
âThanks, hon.â She accepts the drink, her fingers brushing yours as she does.Â
You watch Alisha hungrily eat up the action, and you know whatâs gonna happen next before she even opens her mouth. âSo, youâre Y/Nâs girlfriend?â Â
The redheadâs eyes widen, her drink pausing on its way to her mouth. And before she can reject it, and Alishaâs face grows even more victorious in your pathetic aloneness, you jump in and answer.Â
âFiancĂŠe, actually.âÂ
You should be awarded an Emmy for the way you keep your face straight and donât cringe as both Melissa and Alisha swing around to face you.Â
âI left my ring at home,â You roll your eyes. âShe only popped the question recently. Havenât quite got used to wearing it yet.âÂ
âReally?â Alisha questions, eyes narrowing. âWell now you must join my husband and I for drinks. We can toast to the newlyweds and newly-engaged.âÂ
She grabs your hand, pulling you away before you can protest again. You look back at Melissa, silently begging for help, but she just watches you with an arched brow and smirk before she takes a long sip from her beer and saunters after you.
Alisha doesnât release her grip until you reach the booth in the corner of the bar. Her husband, an even taller man, presumably quite handsome if youâre into that sort of thing - but in your opinion quite boring looking - sits scrolling on his phone and nursing what looks like a whiskey sour.Â
âHoney, I found some friends.â She says, sitting down beside her husband. âThis is my best friend from college Y/N, and her fiancĂŠeâŚoh,â Alisha tips her head, smiling widely âIn all that excitement I didnât get your name.âÂ
Melissa doesnât respond, instead signalling you to slide in the booth first so she can be on the end.Â
âItâs Melissa,â You respond, ignoring the redheadâs dark look for sharing her personal information.Â
âTraitor,â She mumbles quietly into your ear, her breath hot.Â
You roll your eyes, even as you struggle to breath properly. If sheâd saved you when she had the chance you wouldnât be in this situation.Â
âWhat a lovely name,â Alisha gushes, and you donât need to turn to see Melissaâs glare.
Alisha drops her head to her husband's shoulder, who wraps his arm around her back with a boy-ish grin, âAnd this is my husband, Victor.âÂ
âLadies, nice to meet you.âÂ
You force a smile and take a long sip from your beer.Â
âI was just saying to Y/N how funny it is running into her.â Alisha laughs, âWeâre only in Philadelphia because the jet needed to refuel. It was not part of our plan,â She rolls her eyes, âHonestly, can you imagine living here?âÂ
âWhatâs wrong with Philly?â Melissa challenges, eyes narrowing
âIâm just saying it wouldnât be my first choice.â She waves her hand, like she hasnât said anything offensive. âVictor and I live in California, but weâre heading to Paris because this oneâs talking at a convention for dentists.âÂ
âWow, impressive.â You nod politely.
âYou ended up here?â She asks, pity evident in her tone.Â
âI chose here. I love Philly. Iâve got an amazing teaching job and an amazing group of friends. Itâs a really good community.â You say seriously. There were some things Alisha could make you feel insecure about, but Philly was never going to be one of them. You were happy with your life.Â
âAnd your fiancĂŠe, right?â She challenges, âHow long have you been together?âÂ
Melissaâs arm wraps around your waist and she tugs you tightly into her side. You try not to let the surprise at the action show on your face.Â
âTwo years. Known each other for three through. She swooped in and saved me when the kids were drivinâ me mad and kinda hasnât stopped since.âÂ
Your heart flutters as you stare at Melissa from beneath your lashes, warmth settling in your chest. You know the exact moment sheâs talking about, itâs the first time you properly met, about a month into teaching at Abbott. Youâd heard the commotion coming from her classroom while your first-graders were in music class, and had popped your head next door - just to check - and found a clearly stressed out redhead trying to control a large class of second and third graders.Â
Youâd made your way in, with a calm âHow can I help?â. Melissa had just thrusted worksheets at you and pointed towards the third-graders. From then on you popped in to help whenever you had a free lesson, and if it meant staying later to catch up on lesson planning you decided it was worth it, especially as it led to one of your favourite friendships.
âYou have kids?â Victor asks. âI love kids.âÂ
âNo, teacher. We work together.âÂ
âOh, that makes sense. Y/N was never one to have much of a social life outside of her work.â Alisha rolls her eyes, âOf course sheâd have to meet her partner at her place of work too. She never had much luck when it came to dating, always so alone.â She juts out her bottom lip patronisingly.Â
âI dated.â You defend, âI just happened to put my studies first, which was the whole point of being at college.âÂ
Alisha nods and takes a sip from her drink. Your eyes narrow at her. You donât realise your hand has tightened into a fist until Melissa pulls it into her lap and begins gently caressing your knuckles, slowly coaxing it open again.Â
Victorâs phone rings, an obnoxious beeping sound that shocks you enough that your hand pulls away from Melissaâs. You miss the touch instantly, wanting to reach back but knowing you shouldnât.Â
âOh sorry girls, I should take this.âÂ
âHe gets lots of important calls.â Alisha supplies proudly, as she slides out of the booth to let her husband out. Melissa lifts her brows, shooting you a look of disbelief and you struggle not to laugh.
They stand together beside the table. Victor drops his forehead to Alishaâs and inhales deeply. âYour beauty, your drive, your wit.â He breathes dramatically.
Alisha hums, âYour intelligence, your thirst, your strength.âÂ
Their noseâs rub together, and you swear your soul leaves your body as you watch them open mouthed in disbelief. You turn to Melissa whose face is screwed up in outright disgust.Â
Alisha sits back down, a content smile on her face. âItâs something we do whenever the other person leaves. Say what we love most about each other.âÂ
âYou really ainât from Philly, huh?â Melissa laughs, taking a long sip from her beer.Â
âYou guys should try it.âÂ
âI ainât doing-âÂ
âI donât think-â Melissa and you both start to say at the same time.
âNot everyone can do it.â Alisha waves.Â
Your eyes narrow and Melissa puts down her beer.Â
âYou know what, weâll do it now.â You say, determined.Â
Melissa smirks, eyes bright with challenge as she looks between you and Alisha. âSure thing, hon.âÂ
âOkay, just look into each otherâs eyes and say three things you love most about each other.â
You turn to face Melissa, kneeâs brushing against hers. You blow out a breath, suddenly nervous looking at her this closely. Her green eyes hold your gaze, a reassuring smile on her face and it helps you steel yourself.Â
âOkay. Uh, I love how much you care about the kids.â You start, easy, honest, tame. âYou do so much for them, more than anyone even realises. But they love you so much. Youâre a phenomenal teacher. Youâve got such a beautiful heart, even if you do try to keep it hidden.â
Melissa listens to you with soft eyes, a wet chuckle breaking from her lips.
âItâs not even just the kids. The things you do for Barbara, Janine, Me. You are extraordinary. I see how much you care, I see your kindness.â The words flow from your lips, the truth that you should probably keep hidden.Â
She scoffs, shaking her head, âI ainât that soft.âÂ
âI love how safe you make me feel.â Your breath shakes as Melissaâs eyes widen. God too much, too honest, but maybe sheâll just think youâre selling the lie and wonât know just how true every word coming from your lips is.
âWhenever something happens youâre the person I want to find. And you just know how to make it better. Before you, I never needed someone else, but now I literallyâŚI just, I donât know, I gravitate towards you. When Iâm with you I just know everything is going to be okay. I feel safe, like together we could take on anything.âÂ
âI wouldnât let anythinâ happen to you.â She smiles gently.Â
Your heart stutters, âAnd your smile, god that smile.â It makes you soar, you canât breath as words spill from your lips, âI love it. I look forward to lunch everyday because I know I get to see that smile. Your smile starts my day, and everytime I get to see it I feel like Iâm doing something right.âÂ
She stares at you and you clear your throat, breaking your gaze. âAnd that's three.â Â
Melissa grabs your hands, her fingers stroking your knuckles, prompting your eyes to return back to hers. âMy turn.âÂ
You nod silently, unable to speak as you watch the women in front of you. Heart pounding.Â
âI love your company. No matter my mood, itâs good. Youâre just nice to have around. Whether Iâm cookinâ for you, weâre drinkinâ, or weâre stressinâ out over work. Itâs fun with you.â She shrugs with a shy smile.
You grin. God your heart canât take this. It still pounds and you canât differentiate between truth and lie. She sounds so honest, eyes so gentle and you desperately want to fall in and believe every single word leaving her lips.Â
âYouâre stupidly generous too and I love you for it, even if it makes me wanna hit ya sometimes.âÂ
She rolls her eyes and you both chuckle.Â
âYou say I have a good heart, but I watch the way you keep giving to everyone around you without expecting anythinâ in return. Youâre always offering to cover a lesson or lunch shift, even though I know it means youâre staying at school later to catch up on lesson plans.âÂ
You shift, you really hadnât thought sheâd noticed. âItâs nothing really.âÂ
âItâs somethinâ. Youâre good. Like, actual good, and you donât find that often.âÂ
Your eyes soften, tears threatening to pool as you itch to reach out and pull her in, kiss her.Â
âAnd you know what else I love? Your eyes.â She nods, with a shining smile. âWhen they catch the light? Stunninâ. They are so expressive, always shining, sayinâ things even if you donât.âÂ
You draw in a sharp breath, eyes locked with hers. Wondering maybe if-
âI won a competition for the most beautiful eyes.â Alishaâs piercing voice interrupts. You jolt away from Melissa, having entirely forgotten about the other womenâs presence.Â
âIâm pretty sure Iâd still win if you entered. No offence, Y/N.â She laughs shrilly.Â
You drain the last of your beer, your chest still tight and your bearings off.Â
Melissa snaps. âAlright, Iâm done. I dunno if your parents were too nice to you as a kid or didnât tell you they loved you enough but either way I donât care. You ainât speaking to my girl like that anymore, especially if you think your ugly ass fake contacts in any way compare to her stunninâ fuckinâ eyes.âÂ
Alishaâs face finally falls.Â
âSo goodbye, weâre leavinâ. And you and your guy can get the hell out of Philly fast before I find someone to jack your dang car.â She grabs your hand, fingers entwined with yours and tugs you from the booth with her.Â
You laugh, feeling lighter the further away you get from the gobsmacked women you left behind. Melissa weaves you between people and out the bar, not letting go of your hand until you're safely outside and the door has shut behind you.Â
âThat wasâŚâ You look at the redhead, shaking your head and grinning, your entire body buzzing. âGod, I justâŚâ
She chuckles, her hand landing on your waist. âCome on, letâs get out of here.â Her other hand digs into her back pocket pulling out her phone, âIâll call a cab.âÂ
Your heart thunders. Your hand reaching for her chin bringing her face back to yours. Sheâs so closeâŚ. âYou are extraordinary.âÂ
Her cheeks pink as she tries to shrug off your touch, âY/N,â
âNo.â You breathe, bringing her back to look at you. Your gaze falls to her red painted lips, your chest tightens. And you know you could let go, step back and youâd both pretend this moment had never happened, but you donât want to.Â
You want to lean in and kiss those pretty lips. Finally say fuck the point of no return. Because all the fears and risks that were keeping you from plunging in all seemed irrelevant when your body felt this alive.Â
Itâs like youâd finally woken you and you knew you didnât want to go another day without kissing Melissa Schemmenti.Â
You lean in. Melissaâs shaky breath expelling against your lips before she meets yours. Tentative at first, once, twice, three times, before her hand fists into your shirt and yours moves to her hair, and then a moan is pulled from her lips and your gone. Frantic and heated you devour each other. Her phone is roughly shoved into your back pocket so she can paw at your ass and then sheâs walking you back into the wall. Her body is finally flush against yours and you gasp in delight as you drown in the sensation, unable to think clearly as you passionately kiss her.
When you finally separate, youâre both breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. Melissaâs lipstick is a mess, her lips swollen, and you think sheâs never looked more beautiful.Â
âYa mess.â She tuts affectionately, breathing still broken as she reaches out to wipe her lipstick from your lips.Â
âAnd whoâs fault is that?â You chuckle, grinning like a fool.Â
She rolls her eyes and you want to kiss the expression off her face. You lean in to do just that, but she steps back, her eyes shifting away from you.Â
âHon,â She shakes her head, finally wiping the lipstick off from around her own mouth.Â
A pit lands in your stomach, panic coursing through your body. No. Youâve come this close. You werenât losing her now.Â
âYou canât tell me you donât feel this too.âÂ
She looks at you, eyes soft and pained, ââNd you canât want this.âÂ
âDid you not hear a word I said in there?â You ask incredulously. âGod, Mel, all of that. Every single word. I meant that.âÂ
âYou meant it?â She questions, unsure.Â
You shrug, vulnerable, exposed. âOf course. How could I not? Youâre the best person I've ever met.âÂ
She scoffs, wet, stumbling forward back into your arms. âFuck you.â She murmurs and captures your lip. You expect it to be harsh and heated, but sheâs so gentle and slow, her lips tenderly moving against yours like youâre something to be treasured and if she pushes too hard you might break.Â
You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek lovingly when you separate. She watches you in awe, eyes so gentle and youâve never felt so content in your life.Â
âI meant everythinâ too.â She confesses.
You grin and press a quick peck to her lips. âI had my suspicions.âÂ
She rolls her eyes, âWhatever. You wanna actually get out of âere?âÂ
You laugh, âYes, please.âÂ
âLeftovers and beers at mine?â
You hum in delight, not missing the way Melissaâs eyes darken, her eyes dropping to your lips. âThat sounds perfect. And watch something on Netflix?âÂ
âWhatever you want, hon.â She responds, dragging her gaze away. âIâll call a cab now.â
She takes a couple steps away, to make the call and you unashamedly watch her the entire time. Your eyes taking in her figure and lingering on her ass. Because, hey, who can blame a girl.Â
It was Melissa goddamn Schemmenti.Â
Your teeth pulling at your bottom lip, do nothing to suppress your grin.
I guess you really might have to thank everyone in Abbott for leaving tonight if this was the result.Â
You werenât quite a big enough person to thank Alisha.Â
You would have gotten there without her.
Eventually.
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#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti#abbott elementary#fem!reader#kt writes#fanfic#fanfiction#just go with it#abbott elementary fanfic#my gif#fake dating
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Healing Touch | Chapter 5: Return Home
Chapter summary: You and Logan travel to Alberta in search for some answers as he slowly regains his memory.
Masterlist
This chapter contains a lot of Loganâs origin story, but itâs more based on the comic than the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine.
7K words⌠who am I?
Itâs been a few busy weeks to say the least.
After you and Logan agreed on working on his trauma together, you started having small sessions at night where you would use your power on him. In each session you placed your hands on each side of his head while he laid down on the labâs bed and started healing his amnesia. You worked slowly, not wanting to trigger any bad memory without warning.Â
There was only so much you could do, and there was no guarantee any of it would work. Your powers only worked on a physical level, meaning you could heal parts of Loganâs brain that didnât heal on their own, despite his enhanced healing. But Charles saw this as an opportunity to train and even expand your powers, hoping that in time you would be able to heal the emotional type of wounds, or be the one to caused them.
Fragments of Loganâs memories began to resurface, scattered and incomplete, like pieces of a puzzle he wasnât sure how to assemble. He remembered his parents: his mother, Elizabeth, and the man he believed to be his father, John Howlett. He could recall the house heâd grown up in, the details hazy but still familiar. He even knew his name wasnât really Logan. But that was where the trail ended.
What had happened to them? How had he discovered his mutation? The answers felt just out of reach, buried beneath layers of fog he couldnât penetrate, no matter how hard you tried.
In search of more answers, you started planning your trip to his childhood home: Howlett Estate. You would take a flight to Lloydminster and then drive for two hours to Cold Lake. Originally you suggested taking a smaller plane from Lloydminster to Cold Lakeâs regional airport, but took pity on Loganâs distaste for flying and decided to rent a car instead.
You knew this would be hard on Logan, facing his memories and old traumas wasnât easy, so you wanted to make sure this was a pleasant trip.
Coincidently, the trip took place during Jean and Scottâs wedding, so Logan wouldnât be in the mansion during that time. Hopefully this trip would also help you rebuild your trust in Logan. Despite reassuring him over and over again that youâd forgiven him already, your friendship changed and required a lot of care to go back to how it was before.
The day of the flight you had maps, flyers and all kinds of accessories for your trip, and you had a blast going from one place to the other in the airport, getting lots of snacks and things to pass the time. Logan was never too far behind, following you around and indulging on anything you wanted.
Despite his nervousness, Logan enjoyed seeing you so excited and bubbly, but most importantly, so relaxed around him. He worried your friendship was ruined when he first hurt you but you were slowly building the trust back up.
It was only after you landed at Lloydminster and got in the rental that the real fun started.Â
âI booked the cutest, cosiest looking Bed & Breakfast I could find, itâs adorable.â You said as you entered the address to the GPS. Logan groaned from the driverâs seat.
âIâm regretting this already.â He joked. âYou know what? I take that back, I regretted this the moment you gave me a plane ticket.â
You laughed.Â
âOh come on! It wasnât so bad! I took your nausea away, didnât I?âÂ
His frown deepened.
âI still donât like flying. If men were meant to fly, we would be born with wings.â
âGood thing Iâm not a man.â You joked. âBe glad I got us a car instead of another flight for this part. Just drive, old man.â You said before opening a bag of snacks.
âOld man? Fuck off.â
You giggled.
âArenât you like a thousand years?â
Logan scoffed.
â...No.â He said after an awkward silence. âYour math is off. Also, donât eat in the car, youâll leave crumbs all over.â
You giggled again, and despite his grumpiness, Logan smiled.
âWhatever you say, grandpa.â
âFuck you!â He said, but there was no malice in his voice. You just looked at him and took another bite of your snack.
âIâm hungry!â You said as an excuse. âDo you want some?â
âNah, Iâm fine. I donât like candy.â He said, throwing you a look.
âWho the hell doesnât like candy?â You asked dramatically âI think I have some Sour Patch kids around here, youâll like them.â You said as you looked through your back.
âWhat makes you say that?â
âBecause⌠your face looks like youâre constantly sucking a lemon.â Logan turned his head to look at you in disbelief. âHey! Eyes on the road!â
âWhat do you mean I look like Iâm sucking a lemon?â He asked confused.
âYou knowâŚâ You pursed your lips, frowned your brow and raised your shoulders, trying to give your best impression of Logan. âLike youâre sulking.â
âI donât sulk.â He said.
âRight⌠And I donât cry while watching The Notebook. Are we just telling lies now?â
âJust give me that.â He snatched the bag of sour candy from your hand. âYouâre terrible, you know that?â
âYes, but you love me anyway.â You smiled and Logan just shook his head in defeat before pouring some candy straight into his mouth.
The ride was filled with banter and jokes. Seeing Logan so relaxed and somewhat happy made your heart flutter. You had never seen him like this, and you hoped it would last.
Watching him drive with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a relaxed smile on his face also did things to you. He looked so handsome, you would try to steal glances every once in a while.
When you finally arrived at the B&B you squealed in delight and jumped out of the car. The building had a âcabin in the woodsâ feel to it, but much bigger in dimensions, and it was surrounded by a large garden.
âItâs perfect! Just like in the photos! Isnât it lovely?â
âIt looks like a flower shop threw up on it.â
âEw.â Your face quickly dropped. âJust because of that, youâre carrying the suitcases while I check us in.â You said before stomping towards the door.
âI was carrying the suitcases anyway!â Logan grumbled.
He took the suitcases and quickly caught up with you as you made your way to the reception. There you were welcomed by a sweet looking old lady.
âWelcome! You must be the honeymooners, the Wyatts!â She greeted them.
You quickly shook your head, your belly filling with butterflies at the idea of the two of you looking like newlyweds.
âOh no, weâre not together. I mean, weâre together, but not together-together⌠Weâre not married!â You tried to explain awkwardly while Logan tried not to laugh. âWe booked two bedrooms under the name Howlett.â You said, your face growing hot.
âYeah, we book two rooms in case the first bed breaks.â Logan joked, making you open your eyes so widely he thought they would pop out of your head.
âLogan!â You hissed and slapped his chest. Logan simply smiled and winked at you. Any other time you would be giggling like crazy at the idea of Logan and you breaking a bed, but you werenât alone. The lady looked back and forth between the two of you before handing you two keys.
âYou have room 13 and 14, theyâre down that hall, across from each other. Breakfast is served from 7 to 10 in the dining room.â
You took the keys and nodded your head.
âThank you maâam.â you said before walking away fast, your face warm.
Your room was beautiful. It was tastefully decorated, had flowers on pretty much every surface, and the bed looked very cozy. You jumped on the mattress while Logan put your suitcase down.
âComfortable?â He asked.
âMhmmm.â You were barely audible with your face squished against the covers. Logan chuckled.
You felt the bed dip and raised your head to see Logan sitting down on the foot of the bed. He looked like there was something he wanted to say, so you sat up on the bed to give him your full attention.
âSo, um⌠Listen,â He cleared his throat. âI just wanted to say⌠I appreciate everything youâre doing for me. You didnât have to do any of this, but you did, and I wanted to say thank you.âÂ
You smiled shyly. Logan wasnât a man of many words, so when he opened up like this you made sure to appreciate it and soak into the moment.
âNothing to thank me for. Helping people is what I do, itâs what I love. Maybe I never realized there are other ways I can help other than using my powers.â You shrugged. âI guess I never had a friend that mattered to me as much as you do.â You said with a certain vulnerability in your voice. Of course you left out the part of you being completely, utterly in love with him.
The admission took Logan by surprise. How could you, a sweet, selfless, beautiful woman not be surrounded by people you loved and loved you back.
âWhy?â He asked. You tilted your head and frowned.
âWhy, what?â
âWhy me?â He shook his head, confused. âNot only I didnât do anything to earn your friendship, but I also hurt you. You could have so many friends, so many people, why did you stick with me?â
You stared at him for a moment in shock.
âWhat do you mean you didnât do anything to earn my friendship? Youâre the first friend I made at the mansion.â
âThatâs it?â Logan scoffed.
âFor starters.â You placed your hand on top of his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. âLogan, you earned my friendship with respect and support. Most friendships donât start with great gestures, they start with kind words, spending time together, showing kindness. My first morning there I was nervous but you told me I would be okay. Words matter, Logan. And I knew I wanted you officially in my life the day you took me to the hospital to help. Remember?â
Logan looked down at your hands together and nodded.
âI remember thinking I had never seen anything like it. Not only you healed those kids, but the relief their parents mustâve feltâŚâ He said softly. âAnd you never cared about people giving you creditâŚâ
You chuckled.Â
âItâs better that way.â You shrugged. âI also knew we would be friends when you started training me. You didnât think I would be useless on the battlefield just because I donât have fighting skills. I appreciated that, I appreciated you having faith in me.â
Logan rolled his eyes.
âI couldnât have you running around trying to save everyone but not knowing how to protect yourself.â He said teasingly.
âI wouldâve been okay. I can heal, remember?â
âJust because you can heal doesnât mean you should allow yourself to get hurt in the first place.â Logan whispered.
Those words touched you deeply. Without even thinking you leaned in and kissed his cheek. Logan blinked and looked anywhere but you, the tips of his ear turning red.
âI think thatâs the sweetest thing you ever said to me. Thank you.â You whispered.
Logan cleared his throat and got up, dropping your hand in the process.
âRight. Of course. Anyway, we have a big day tomorrow, right?â He rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs, looking awkward as hell. You nodded your head.Â
âMeet me at 9 for breakfast and weâll head to the Howlett Estate afterwards.â you said.Â
âAye Captain!â He picked his suitcase on his way to the door and turned to look at you. He looked like he wanted to say something again, but this time he just pressed his lips into a thin line.
âGood night, Logan.â you said after a moment.Â
âGood night, sweetheart. Iâll see you in the morning.â he winked at you and walked out.
-
Logan was used to sleepless nights, but tonight felt different. His mind kept drifting to you, no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away. At one point, he got up, rummaging through his jacket until he found his lighter. The one youâd given him. He turned it over in his hand, his thumb brushing over the engraving, something he often did when he thought of you.
Yet you managed to get him flustered all over again. The little kiss on the cheek you gave him earlier was driving him mad. It had been so long since he felt anything like this, so kind and gentle, so intimate without being sexual, he didnât know how to act about it.
There was no way he could keep denying it: he had feelings for you. Could you possibly feel the same way? Your last conversation was about your friendship, how come all the sudden friendship wasnât enough? Where did all these feelings fit in?
Logan raked a hand through his hair, frustration tugging at him. You were everything he wasnât: beautiful, sweet, kind. The kind of person who made the world a little brighter just by existing. Surely you didnât feel the same way about him... right? You were kind to everyone; that was just who you were. It didnât mean you liked him.
Still, he couldnât ignore how deeply these feelings had crept up on him. They hadnât come all at once but had grown slowly, quietly, in the peaceful moments youâd shared: the late-night talks, the easy silences that somehow said more than words ever could. He hadnât even realized how much youâd come to mean to him, until tonight. Until that kiss.
This would explain why he felt so jealous of Alex Summers, why he was so traumatized by the sight of your blood on his hands. Only you could get him to board a plane willingly, so what else would he do for you?
âFuckâŚâ he muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with frustration. Things were about to get a lot more complicated. There was no way he could tell you how he felt. You deserve the best: someone kind, someone who could give you everything you deserved. That wasnât him. Not after everything heâd done. Especially not after that nightâŚ
The memory hit him like a punch to the gut. The night he attacked you. The guilt from that moment never left him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. Youâd forgiven him, but he hadnât forgiven himself. He didnât deserve someone like you, not after that. Not ever.
Logan sat back on the edge of the bed, staring down at the lighter in his hand. His thoughts spiraled, a storm of self-loathing and regret. He convinced himself, as he always did, that he was destined to be alone. No good woman would ever settle for someone like him, let alone you.
-
The next morning arrived with an unexpected cold, so you threw on your warmest clothes and headed to the main hall for breakfast, excitement bubbling inside you at the idea of finding out more about Loganâs past.Â
But the feeling wouldnât last. When you got to the dining room you found Logan was already there, looking grumpier than usual. He had a deep frown on his face, and looked at his coffee cup as it had personally offended him.
âHey, good morning.â You greeted him.
When he looked up at you, his face softened and his shoulders seemed to relax.
âMorning. Slept well?â He asked as you sat down across from him.
âNot really, I guess I was too excited about today to sleep. What about you?â
Logan mulled over it for a moment.
âSame.â He said simply.
âAre you okay?â You asked. âWe donât have to do it today if youâre not ready.â You reassured him. He quickly shook his head.
âNo, thereâs no point dragging this on any longer.â He ran a hand down his face. Your heart ached for him, he looked tired and angry.
âLoganâŚâ You went to reach his hand, but he quickly pulled it away.
âYou should go get some breakfast, we have a long day ahead.â
You got up and headed to the table where the food was served. If Logan wanted to be a grumpy cat, so be it.
He really did look like he was sucking a lemon.
The ride to the Estate was quiet, a big contrats from the ride the day before. There was no banter or jokes, just music playing softly on the radio.
When you finally reached the Estate, you let out a whistle.Â
âDamn, Logan! I didnât know you grew up filthy rich.â You joked. The main building, a manor that seemed frozen in time, stud tall and big at the top of a hill, surrounded by a vast land.
âNeither did I.â He said with a somber tone. Being back here after so long made Logan feel uneasy, like he was entering a sacred place that was prohibited to him, while at the same time walking into a dangerous place. Either way, he didnât want to be there. You could tell this wasnât easy for him and you wanted to make him feel at ease, but you could only help him as much as he would allow it. And right now he was being too stubborn for that.
When he parked the car you both got out, but as Logan headed to the door he noticed you werenât following. Instead you stood by the car, arms crossed on your chest and a pout on your face.
âYou coming or what?â He asked annoyed.
âNo.â You stomped your foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. âNot until you tell me why youâre being such an ass this morning.â You pressed.
Logan glared at you.
âDonât be ridiculous. Come on.âÂ
You shook your head.
âNope. Something happened and I wanna know what.â
Logan groaned.
âComing here was your idea, so come on, letâs get moving.â
But you didnât budge, shaking your head.
âYouâre doing it again!â You said.
âDoing what?â Logan asked confused.
âPushing me away.â You replied, your voice shaking. It made Logan stop in his tracks. He had sworn he wouldnât push you away again. With a defeated sigh he ran a hand down his face and walked back towards you.
âIâm sorry sweetheart, I didnât mean to. I guess Iâm really stressed right now, not knowing what we may find there.â He said pointing at the building with his thumb over his shoulder. âI barely got any sleep but I donât mean to take it out on you.â He reassured you.
Damn, you really had him wrapped around your finger, didnât you?
âWhy didn't you just tell me? You know you can tell me anything.â The sad look on your face, with a little pout on your lips, made Loganâs defense crumble.
âI know, Iâm sorry sweetheart. You already did so much for me I didnât want to burden you with something else.â
You pouted even more.
âAfter all this time you still havenât learned that youâre not a burden for me.â You shook your head and stepped closer. âI guess Iâll just have to keep reminding you.â You took his hand and walked towards the door. âCome on!â
Logan smiled softly. Of course you forgave him right away, you just couldnât stay mad at him.
He was so screwed!
âIs it anything like you remember?â You asked him and he looked around the building.
âSomewhat, yeah. But mostly things look out of place.â
Several families lived there after the Howletts, and in the latest decades functioned as a museum, so changes were to be expected, but at least most of the structure was left the same since the last time Logan was there.
You were spotted by an employee behind a counter.
âWelcome to Howlett Estate! Would you like a guided tour?â He asked.
âNo.â Logan said simply. You threw him a look.
âWe would like to explore on our own, but we may have questions for later.â You added politely.
âOkie dokie! Here are some flyers and you can use your phones to download more information.âÂ
You took the flyers and smiled.
âThank you!â You said before taking Logan by the arm and walking away. âI like him, he says okie dokie.â Logan simply rolled his eyes.
Stepping into the museum felt like traveling through a time machine. The furniture, the lamps, the carefully preserved clothes, all of it carried the weight of 200 years of history. You couldnât help but wish these artifacts could speak, sharing the stories they had witnessed. How many footsteps had echoed through these halls? How many secrets were tucked away within these walls?
With your arm gently hooked around Logan's, you strolled at a leisurely pace, making sure he didnât rush through the space. You wanted him to take it all in, to truly absorb every detail around him.
In the main room rested an imposing portrait of the Howlett family: John, Elizabeth and little James.
âIs that you?â You whispered pointing at the boy on the painting.
âI think so.â
âAwww you were so cute!â You gushed. Logan blinked and looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. âLook at those little shorts!â
âI looked ridiculous in those clothes.â He deflected.
âUh Iâm sure they were very fashionable at the time.â You shrugged. âYour mom was very beautiful.â
Logan stared at the woman in the painting with a newfound pain in his chest: he craved for a motherly love he never felt. For someone who lived such a long life, he surely missed out on a lot of things.
âShe really was.â He said softly.
You stayed quiet, knowing Logan needed a moment to process everything. There were signs of recognition in his eyes, but you didnât dare to ask. If he wanted to share a memory with you, he would let you know.
You moved from one room to the other, until you reached a childrenâs bedroom and Logan stopped in his tracks.
âI remember this placeâŚâ He walked in slowly, taking everything in.
âYeah?â You were curious. âWas this your bedroom?â
âI think so. It looked a bit different then, but yeahâŚâ
âYou had a big ass bed.â You pointed out the fancy mahogany bed. âI bet you were very spoiled.â You teased, but you dropped your playfulness when you saw the lost look on Loganâs face.
âI remember spending a lot of time in bed. I was a sickly kid.â He then walked to the bed and stared at it for a moment. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly Logan pushed the bed to the side, as if it weighed nothing.
âLogan!â You chastised. âWeâre not supposed to touch anything!â
âJust keep watch.â Logan said before kneeling down and reaching behind the head of the bed.
âWhat are you doing?â You asked before leaning against the door, watching out for anyone coming your way.
âI left something in hereâŚâ he tapped around the wall until he heard a hollow sound. The room had clearly been reformed through the years, but to Loganâs surprise his little hidden spot was untouched. With one of his claws he managed to pull out a piece of skirting board and there it was: his little box of treasures.
He quickly put the board back in its place and then moved the bed.
âWhat is that?â You asked as you both sat on the bed. Logan opened the tin box, dust flying everywhere, and was met with little pieces of his childhood. There was an uncharacteristic tenderness in the way Logan picked the first item, his movements careful and deliberate, a stark contrast to his usual rough manner.Â
It was a little lead soldier.
âI remember this, my grandfather got it for me during a business trip.â He said before going for another item, and then another, and another. âHe wasnât very nice, so little things like this meant a lot to me.â
In the box were all kinds of things a boy could treasure: a few colorful marbles, a feather, some coinsâŚ
âItâs like a time capsule.â You whispered before reaching in and taking a postcard from the box. It had a beautiful painting of a rose. You turned it around and read outloud âLove you forever, your little flower -Rose.â You smiled softly. âMmmm whoâs Rose?âÂ
Logan took a moment to think before picking the car.
âA childhood friend.â He said. It was a lie, or at least not the whole truth. Logan and Roseâs story was a long and messy one, one that ended in tragedy.
âA childhood friend.â You repeated with a scoff. âI didnât know you called your friends âlittle flowersâ.â you teased, elbowing him playfully.
Logan rolled his eyes.
âShut up.â He said before snatching the card from your hand and placing it back in the box. If it wasnât because of the shy smile on his face you would think he was actually mad.
Then something in the box caught his attention and his smile dropped. You watched as he carefully picked up an old pocket watch from the box.
âThis was my fatherâs.â He said softly. âIt was broken, so he didnât use it anymore. He told me I could keep it and maybe one day I would figure out how to fix it.â He frowned, caressing the watch with his thumb, the same way he did with his lighter. âThat day never came.â He said sadly.
You watched him quietly, before placing your hand on his back and rubbing soothing circles on it.
âYou just got a piece of him back, thatâs somethingâŚâ You commented.
âYeah, youâre right.â
âExcuse me?â A voice behind you said. You quickly threw your coat on Loganâs lap, hiding the box, before turning to see a tour guide standing by the door. âYouâre not supposed to sit on the bed.â He said, a disapproving look on his face.
âRight! Of course! Iâm sorry!â You jumped from the bed and walked towards him. âSo, I have some questions, I saw there are a lot of portraits on the staircase, are they members of the Howlett family? Who are they?â You talked fast, pushing the guide out to the hall to give Logan a moment alone. You gave Logan a pointed look over your shoulder before stepping out of the room.
Logan kept looking into the box before finally closing it and putting it in your bag. He would look more into it later, for now he had to make sure you werenât getting in trouble.
He found you asking all kinds of questions to the poor guide, who looked confused and flustered.
â... so if the mattresses were filled with feathers, how many geese or ducks would they need to fill in a king sized bed?â you asked.
âI wouldnât know, maâam.â
âI imagine it would be a lot!â
âRight.â
âAnd they made their own candles, right? Now, how do you make a candle?â You asked, playing dumb.
âI think thatâs enough, sweetheart.â Logan said, stopping by your side. The guide sighed with relief.
âI have one more question!â You said before turning back to the poor guy. âWhat happened to the Howlett family? Are they still around?â
âIâm afraid the familyâs history is a tragic one. For starters John and Elizabethâs first son, John Jr. passed away when he was a baby. Years later they had their second son, James. There arenât any actual records, given the time, but for what we could gather James was an illegitimate son Elizabeth had with the groundskeeper, Thomas Logan. Either way John raised James as his own. Not that he had much of a choice, at the time it wouldâve been a massive scandal if people knew James was a bastard child.â while the guide talked and pointed out some portraits you glanced at Logan. There was a storm brewing behind his hazel eyes and you worried he would lash out any moment.
âWhether Mr. Howlett knew or not isnât clear, but we do know he fired Logan. One evenight Thomas returned and the two men fought to death. Itâs believed that he came back to take his son away and was killed in the process, not without mortally wounding John first. Still, someone mustâve taken little James, because he went missing after that. People in town searched for him, but he was never found.â
Slowly and very discreetly you stood by Logan and took his hand. With a squeeze to his fingers you told him you were there for him. This couldnât be easy for him to hear. He squeezed your hand back, your touch grounding him.
âFeeling incapable of carrying on without her husband and her soon,Mrs. Elizabeth Howlett took her own life. The Howlett name remained, thanks to Johnâs father, who kept the place up and running until his death. He never stopped looking for James.â The guide concluded.
There was an extended silence, as everything seemed to sink in.
âThat is very sad.â you said softly after a moment.
âIndeed.â the guide said. âAnything else youâd like to know?â
You looked at Logan and he shook his head.
âNo, that would be all, thank you.â You replied.
âOf course, donât forget to stop by the gift store!â the guide said before retreating away.
You turned to look at Logan fully.
âAre you okay?âÂ
Logan barely nodded his head.
âEnough for today.â He mumbled before walking away.Â
It wasnât long before you were both sitting at a table in the far corner of a bar. Logan knocked back drink after drink while you nursed a beer. The tin box laid open on the table while Logan inspected some of his old âtreasuresâ. You were quiet for most of it, but you were worried about him and couldnât keep silent much longer.
âAre you okay?â You asked. âI know today was intense and a lot happened, but did you at least get some answers? Any memories?â
Logan nodded before downing another drink.
âHe was wrong.â He mumbled.
âWho?â
âThe tour guide. He got most of the story right, but some details were wrong.â Logan took his fatherâs watch with a longing look. âMy father didnât kill Thomas Logan, I did.â He confessed. âThat night I found out I was a mutant, I killed him with my claws⌠I was just a child.â He shook his head in shame.
âOh Logan, Iâm so sorry.â you said placing a hand on his arm.
âThomas Logan was my biological father, but he didnât mean anything to me. John Howlett didnât raise me to avoid a scandal. He loved my mother and he loved me. In my heart he will always be my true father.â
âWhat happened after?â You asked.
âRose and I ran away with help from my grandfather. The memories get hazy after that, but I do recallâŚâ He took a deep breath. âI recall killing Rose by accident.â He said sadly.
âOh, LoganâŚâ You didnât know what to say.Â
âI hurt everyone I care about, even before I knew I was a mutant I hurt my family.â
âNo, Logan, stop. The way you were conceived wasnât your fault, you didnât choose to be your fatherâs son. You didnât kill your mother, thatâs on her.â You shook your head.
âWhat about Rose, uh? Or the others that came after her? My life is an endless battle, one death after the other.â He shook his head in defeat. âYou should go back to the Mansion without me.â
Your heart dropped.
âWhat?â the question came out in a shaky voice. âIâm not going anywhere without you.â
âAngelâŚâ Logan sounded exhausted. âIâm a bad man. You donât need a bad man in your life.â
You frowned and felt hot tears threatening to spill out.Â
âLogan, I need you to listen to me.â You said while taking his hand over the table. âI know you say youâre a bad man because you feel guilty, because you have a conscience that weighs on you. But what if I told you that doesn���t make you a bad man. It does the opposite.â He looked at you confused. âA bad man doesnât care if he hurts someone else, he only cares about himself. A bad man doesnât have a conscience. And this, James Logan Howlett, is how I know youâre not a bad man. Because you care, I know you do, you care so much and behind this tough exterior thereâs a good man craving forgiveness, companionship and even love.â
Logan looked at you for a moment, his eyes going from one side of your face to the other, as if he was memorizing your face.
âSweetheartâŚâ He breathed out.
âPlease donât leave me.â you begged, catching him by surprise. âYou left once and it nearly killed me, please donât do it again, donât push me away.â Without realizing, tears started rolling down your cheeks. Logan reached up to touch your face and your eyelids dropped as he wiped your tears.
Your heart ached for him. You were convinced he would never love you back, not the way he loved Jean, but when he touched you like that you couldnât help but feel a little bit of hope.
In the meantime Logan wondered how he got someone like you to care for him so much, to see the good in him when he couldnât see it himself. You were so beautiful and if it was up to him you would never cry tears of sadness ever again.
âItâs been a long day, we both need some rest.â He said, both of you exhausted.
Once back at the B&B Logan walked you to your door.
âWill you be okay tonight?â You asked softly.
âYeah.â Logan replied without thinking too much, before frowning and rubbing his neck. âI think so...â he added unsure. â...probably not.â
âWe can stay up and talk a little bit more, if you want.â You offered.
Talking was the last thing Logan wanted to do.
âAngelâŚâ He stepped closer, something shifting in his eyes. He lifted a hand to your face, so slowly it felt as if he was trying not to scare you, and placed it on your cheek. Your breath hitched and you tilted your head against his hand, seeking his touch. âI canât thank you enough for everything youâve done for me.â Logan whispered.
As if drawn together by an invisible force, you stepped closer until your chests were nearly brushing. Logan hesitated, his gaze searching yours for any sign to pull away, to stop. But all he found was an invitation: a soft, loving look that made him feel like the only person in the world. It was as if nothing else existed, no one else mattered, and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
âI would do anything for you, Logan.â you confessed.Â
And that was all Logan needed to take the next step. He leaned in and pressed his lips against you in a chaste, tentative kiss. Your hands moved up his chest to rest on each side of his neck, pulling him closer, his free hand resting on your hip.
When Logan pulled back he didnât go far, he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly and looked at him still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he had kissed you. You dreamed of this moment so many times, you werenât ready to let go.
You tilted your head up and kissed him again, this time with more enthusiasm as the initial shock washed away.
Logan wrapped his arm around your waist while you ran your hands up his neck and your fingers through his hair. When your tongue slipped past his lips, Logan let out a low growl and pulled you closer.
âFuck, sweetheartâŚâ He hissed against your lips. âI shouldâve kissed sooner.â He said before kissing you again.
âI wish you had.â You whispered.Â
Logan pressed you against your door, wanting to feel you impossibly close.
âI donât think I can stop.â Logan admitted.Â
âI donât want you to stop. I've wanted this for a long time.â You said, but before he could kiss you again you pulled your face away slightly. âBut I need to knowâŚâ
Logan pulled back to look at you better and waited.
âYes?â
Suddenly you felt like you couldnât speak, no words would come out of your mouth. When Logan saw you struggle, he tilted your chin and made you look at him.
âHey, itâs okay. Iâm sorry if I pushed you too much.â
You quickly shook your head.
âNo, itâs not that⌠Itâs just thatâŚâ You took his hands, wanting to ground yourself. âIf weâre going any further, I need to know itâs not because you canât be with Jean.â You looked at him shyly. âI donât want to be your second choice.â
Logan stared at you for a moment in shock. He knew you were aware of his feelings for Jean, you even held him when he cried over her engagement with Scott. So it shouldnât have come as a surprise that you had your doubts. He wanted to shut those doubts down fast.
âYouâre not.â He said. âIâm an idiot, this entire time Iâve been pinning after her yet you were here by my side, putting up with my crap.â He shook his head. âAll those times I talked about her, did I hurt you?â
You chewed your lower lip as you tried to come up with an answer. But you didnât need to, Logan saw right through you.
âOh, sweetheartâŚâ He pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You instantly clinged onto him. âIâm so sorry.â
âYou didnât know.â you tried to comfort him. âIâm sorry I killed the mood.â
Logan chuckled lightly against your skin.
âYou didnât kill anything. Iâm glad we talked about this.â He pulled back and cupped your face. âI donât want Jean, not anymore. I want you, even though Iâm convinced I donât deserve you.â
You rolled your eyes and gave his shirt a little tug.
âYou keep saying that, can I convince you otherwise?â You asked with a flirty tone as you played with his dog tags. Logan smirked.
âPerhaps I can be persuaded.â He flirted back.
You quickly opened your bedroom door and pulled him inside. You couldnât help but giggle as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he kicked the door shut. This was everything you dreamed of! Logan easily picked you up by your thighs and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist.
âYou better not drop me!â You laughed.
âNever!â He chuckled and kissed you again.
Logan set you down carefully on the dresser where he took his time tasting your lips and exploring your mouth. Your hands wandered all over his chest, his broad shoulders, his biceps⌠you wanted to touch every inch of him. You couldnât get enough of him.
At one point he pulled back and caressed your cheek.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic softness. His eyes held a rare tenderness, mirrored in the gentle way his fingers brushed against you. It was a good thing you were sitting down because your knees were weak and you felt like melting inside. âMy sweet little angel.â Logan added before kissing you again.
Your hands worked on unbuttoning his flannel and quickly pushed it off his shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to his jacket.
âLoganâŚâ You whispered against his lips. âTake me to bedâŚâ
He didnât need to be told twice.
You spend the rest of the night in Loganâs arms, making love and having all kinds of conversations in between, from deep and revealing to fun and silly. But you only had so much energy, and after the fourth round your eyelids started to drop. Logan watched you as you curled up against him, his fingertips caressing your arm up and down. You were breathtaking and he kicked himself for not realizing sooner.
At one point you felt the sheets rustling and the bed moving. You turned to see Logan sitting on the bed, slowly dressing himself. With your eyes heavy with sleep, you tried to sit up, lifting yourself up with your elbow.
âWhat are you doing?â You asked softly.
Logan turned to look at you and smiled at the sight: you looked adorable, half asleep, your hair a mess, your lips bruised from all the kisses. and the sheets barely covering your naked body.
âGo back to sleep, baby.â He whispered.
Your heart dropped.
âYouâre leaving? Why?â
The worry and sadness in your voice didnât go unnoticed to Logan.
âItâs not what you think.â He shook his head and leaned to kiss your forehead. âI just canât fall asleep next to you.â
âWhy?â you pouted.
âIâm worried I may hurt you again.â He admitted.
You looked at him for a moment, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
âI wish you didnât leave.â You wanted nothing more but to sleep in his arms.
âI know, baby, I know.â He sighed. âIâll keep working on it, I promise. I just donât want to hurt you.â
You reached for his hand. What he didnât know is that this was hurting you too.
âWill I see you in the morning?â
Logan smiled and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.
âDarling, after tonight, you wonât ever get rid of me.â He chuckled and leaned to kiss you. âGet some sleep, Iâll bring us breakfast in a few hours.â He promised.
âMmmokay.â You sighed and nuzzled your pillow. âIt better be a good breakfast, with lots of kisses.â
Logan chuckled and got up.
âAll the kisses you want, my angel.â
--
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#logan howlett#x men#hugh jackman#logan howlett fic#the wolverine#james logan howlett#james howlett#wolverine#x men fanfiction#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x you#logan x reader#healing touch
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taking requests, angel? if so...
I saw some Kathryn gifs and an idea came to me: Agatha, after a long and exhausted working week, asks female reader to have a date, but the date is on their house because Agatha is too tired to go out. Reader is happy, tho, because her love language is quality time and physical contact. Something like a dinner, maybe, idk... so they end up having a very lovely time together, cuddling on the sofa until they fall asleep. Smut or not in the end, it's up to you... but I'd love to read something cute from you:( I don't know if that's okay...
if you're not taking requests, I totally understand that! I don't want to bother you.
- đ
Fun fact, this is my first time writing something that's not meant to build up to sexy times! Also the fluffiest thing I've ever written so hopefully it's good!
Home is where the heart is
A change of plans in your date night with Agatha leads to a confession.
Word count: 1200
Warnings: fluff, softness
Still on for dinner and a movie tonight?Â
Itâs the text you sent your girlfriend, Agatha, an hour ago and she still hasnât responded. This usually isnât like her, but you know how busy work can get. And you know how tough the last week had been on her, but you were really looking forward to spending this Friday night with her.Â
The two of you had been dating for three months now and it always seemed like the older woman wanted to do something, whether it be going to a nice restaurant or mini-golfing or painting pottery. Like tonight, Agatha is supposed to take you to the newest spot in town that just opened up and then you were going to see Corpse Bride as it was playing again in theaters.Â
You would never complain about any of this, but youâre a little worried that Agatha thinks that you need all of this to hang out with her.Â
A text from Agatha buzzes finally. Doll, Iâm so sorry. You frown and pick your phone up, afraid sheâs going to cancel. Iâm so exhausted from work, how would you feel just coming over tonight for something chill? I can order pizza.Â
You breathe a sigh of relief and type back. I would love that! See you later. You almost finish the text with a âLove youâ but neither of you had said it yet and you were sure as hell not going to say it over the phone for the first time.Â
You also werenât sure how Agatha felt. She was older and you werenât exactly sure what she saw in you. She was beautiful and confident and wealthy and could have anyone she wanted, and yet she chose you.Â
A part of you deep down is perturbed that this is just a fling for her. It would crush you if thatâs what it was.Â
But you bury that insecurity somewhere dark inside you and you get ready for date night.Â
Since youâre not doing anything special, you opt for a comfy purple sweater and black leggings. You do put on lacy underwear just in case Agathaâs in the mood, but you are totally content if not.Â
You just want to spend time with your girlfriend.Â
You get to her house right at six, which was when you were supposed to meet anyway, and you only have to wait a second after ringing the doorbell for Agatha to appear.Â
âHey, baby,â she says, stepping to the side so you can enter. Sheâs wearing sweatpants and a tank top, hair loose, but sheâs never looked more beautiful. You press a cheek to her kiss and she hums happily and follows you into the kitchen. âSorry to cancel our plans at the last minute, Iâm just so tired.âÂ
âNo worries at all,â you reassure her, opening the pizza box thatâs already on the counter. Itâs your favorite kind and you put two pieces on a plate and grab a beer. She does the same and leads you over to the couch where you sit on opposite sides facing each other. âEverything okay?â You ask once youâre both settled.Â
She sighs dramatically and her head flops back against the couch. You laugh and nudge her with your foot.Â
Agatha looks back at you, mirth sparkling in her eyes. âIt was just a rough week, hon. Lots of people bothering me, asking stupid questions they should know the answers to, following up on emails that they havenât responded to. And I had to work late those couple nights.â
You frown. âIâm sorry. You work so hard and no one seems to give you the credit you deserve.â You take a bite of your pizza and chew it thoughtfully, wondering what else you can say. You know sheâs been really busy and youâve hardly seen her at all this week.Â
But she leans forward and pats your thigh. âBut this has certainly helped.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow. âThe pizza and beer?â You ask innocently, fishing for more. She rolls her eyes fondly, knowing how much validation you like.Â
âAnd the company, hon. Youâre pretty great, you know?âÂ
You smile and squirm with contentment. âYou are too, Aggie. Iâm always happy to just sit on your couch and talk. I just want to spend time with you, no matter what weâre doing.âÂ
She smiles gratefully. âMe too, baby. Now, how has your week been?â You launch into an animated retelling of something that happened at work and she hangs onto every word. It takes you a bit longer to tell the story in-between bites of your pizza, but her attention never wavers.Â
It makes you feel so warm inside how Agatha always pays attention to what youâre saying. She makes you feel so seen and you couldnât be more lucky to have her.Â
Once youâre done talking and with the pizza, she puts on an episode of Modern Family, your comfort show. You lay between her legs, your back to her front, while she gently strokes your hair. You trace lazy circles on her thighs through her sweatpants and itâs absolutely perfect.Â
She tilts your head to the side and angles hers so sheâs able to kiss you softly. Itâs just a press of her lips against yours at first, but it slowly becomes more and your mouth parts for her tongue.Â
Itâs not a needy kiss though, not a kiss meant to lead to something more, itâs a kiss full of adoration and longing and intimacy.Â
âYouâre so perfect, baby,â Agatha murmurs against your lips.
âNot as perfect as you,â you say back and you can feel her smile against your skin.Â
She lets you go back to the show and wraps her arms around you. You can feel her deep breathing and you feel so safe and warm that you start to doze off.Â
Right before sleep takes you though, you feel her nuzzle your temple and whisper into your ear: âI love you, baby.âÂ
Your heart leaps and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. You whirl around so fast that you almost fall off the couch. Agathaâs eyes are wide and you think you see fear in them.Â
âDid you justââ You start.Â
At the same time, Agatha says, âIâm so sorryââ
You both cut off at the same time. You smile wider than you ever have before and you move so youâre straddling her lap. You put your arms around her neck and rest your forehead against hers.Â
âAgatha Harkness,â you say. Her eyebrows raise. âI love you, too.âÂ
She closes the distance between you and kisses you again, this time with more passion. You whine and try to pull her as close as you can, needing to feel her body against yours as much as you can.Â
âSay it again,â she says and you smirk.Â
âI-â You kiss her. âLove.â Another kiss. âYou.â She grins and gives you a long kiss and it eventually sizzles out and the two of you are just holding each other, your chin on top of her shoulder.Â
âIâm so glad I cancelled our other date,â Agatha muses and you chuckle, squeezing her tighter. âStay here with me forever, love?âÂ
You promise that you will.Â
And when you both wake up in the morning in that same position, she tells you that she loves you again.
You hope she never stops saying it, because you know that you never will.
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha all along#covsfics
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Might as well make up for some lost time. Guess itâs time to share some of my most recent (literally the last 4 are JUST recent within a week or two).
1. The first image was inspired by an artist challenge on Twitter. I thought it would be fun to try it out with Young Xehanort.
2. I was listening to âGod Help the Outcastsâ from Hunchback of Notre Dame & was reminded of the cool art direction where Xehanort was in the cathedral in DDD. Thought it would be fun to give it more color & a somber atmosphere to it.
3. Someone on Twitter did a redraw of a scene in Transformers One with some Metal Sonic Characters. I donât see how this could NOT be fitting for Xehanort & his other selves.
4. Reminds me of a scene in Dark RoadâŚthatâs really it, but I loved how it turned out!
5. Again, a moment in Dark Road where he sits on a bench & ponders to himself. I did something a little different this time & actually try to (hopefully) pull off lighting, especially on the skin. Even the pose was kind of a lucky shot.
6. Funny thing about this piece is that I was initially having trouble figuring out what to do with the background. Then it clicked how suddenly remembered Pocahontas, which was something I wanted to do for some time but had forgotten about it until recently. I really adore how the colors worked flawlessly & how fitting to make his flowing in the wind like PocahontasâŚhe does have pretty hair đĽ°
7. Alright, one more scene related to Dark Road. I often think about how he allows himself to be taken by the guards just so he can face the Queen. The build up to it was so intriguing I couldnât resist trying to draw it out. I have done some scene redraws & maybe I can share more of them in the future, new & old.
8. Have any of you seen the First PokĂŠmon movie? You all remember the end credits scene with Christina Aguilera singing âMiracleâ & there was a moment in the credits where the gang just chill in the cave while it was raining outside while the track plays giving you that unique feeling of nostalgia? Yeah, had to do it with the two goobers while I was listening to that song.
9. The concept is simple really: I watched the new Looney Tunes movie. I know that is a weird reason, but watch the movie & youâll see what I mean. Grant it, this image I drew (by design) is meant to be chill. Trust me though, watch the movie & youâll see what I mean. It is VERY SIMPLE I promise
10. Finally, my most recent as I make this post. I just really love the scenery of dark rainy clouds & light on the other side. Figured it would be fitting for this piece, especially with Xehanort.
ANYWAY, I hope to make it frequent to share my artwork here more often. No promises, but I hope this post at least entertaining.
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Husbandly Duties
Chapter 3 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection
Masterlist



Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller
Summary: It is yours and Joel's 3rd year wedding anniversary and he makes sure it is spent well
Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married
WC: 5.7k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: Making out, Dirty talk, Slight foreplay, P in V, No protection, Joel cums inside of you, Missionary, Choking, Spitting kink, Joel is soft but not too soft, Clit rubbing & possibly more
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
Work, work, work and more work. This damn job is draining your mental health. You love being an office worker, sure, you get a lot of free time and the work you do isn't hard, at all, but it is so time consuming and insanely boring. You'd kill someone if it meant you could have a normal schedule and go home at a decent time. You miss your old job, it was crappy, but the schedule was great and you got to go home at the same exact time, every single day you worked there.
It is 8:00 PM already and you've been working since 10:30 AM, it's been a terribly long day.
What makes it a billion times worse is the fact it is your and Joels three year anniversary. In total, you've been together for five years, but you guys got married three years ago, it was a wonderful day filled with love and gleam. You miss it and you remember it like it was yesterday. Your dress was long and beautiful, you looked gorgeous. Joel was dashing that day, he is everyday of course, but that particular day he was perfect.
The day was beautiful too. August 13th 2012, your most favorite day. But with your luck, you had to work and Joel did not. You wish you could be home with him at this very moment, having a tasty dinner with him while watching a movie, then afterwards he rearranges your guts...
You've been day dreaming of that today, honestly. You've been horny, ovulation isn't for the weak. You've been craving your husband all fucking day. You'd do anything to be with him right now, you truly would.
Aside from that, you have to focus. You're on your final document, the more you concentrate, the faster it'll get done. Joel is going to pick you up from work, so that's something to look forward too and you can't wait to see him. You can't wait to be beside him again. You want to touch him, and kiss him, hug him, everything. You just miss your husband, so very much. It is definitely a mix of your clinginess, ovulation & sadness.
Alas, you began to transfer all your brain and will power into your work, the sooner, the absolute better.
-
Finally! You're finished. The first thing you did was whip out your phone to text your husband, hopefully the dummy didn't fall asleep. You know his job is also tough on him, he's a contractor, it is very hands on work and it's understandable that he is exhausted more than the average person. You began to type out your message until you officially finished it, then you sent it to him.
"Handsome, I finished working. Come get me. Love you."
You were so ready to be home.
Whenever you have to wait for Joel, you just relax in your office either on your phone or your computer. Luckily, despite this being a plain Jane office job, you have your very own office. It's designed to your liking. When you got it officially, Joel helped you decorate it; He's genuinely a life saver. One time, when he came to pick you up, he came up to your office to help you carry some things down... He ended up having to carry you as well due to your legs being way too wobbly...
You turned your computer off and slightly reorganized your desk top. When you come into work tomorrow, you don't want it to look the same as it does now. This is like a ritual at this point, cleaning up your work space daily. It's a great habit to have. You set your pens and pencils back into their case and you set your mouse pad back in its original position, placing the wireless black mouse on top of it. You made sure your personal spaces looked spotless and your desk was no exception.
Your phone buzzed on the white desk top, Joel messaged you. He never texts back too late. The longest you can recall was twenty minutes and that is because he was working. He's truly a wonder, no man you've met was willing to do such a thing, answering quickly. Your ex prioritized his games over you, it was exhausting but now, you have yourself a real man - Joel.
His message read:
"Alright sweetheart, on my way. I love you too."
The message made your heart melt.
Joel is such a sweet man. He's rough on the edges and cold at times, but he's your baby at the end of the day. You see sides of him that no one else does. His brother, Tommy, when you first met him described him as an asshole but once you got to know him, your perception totally changed. You are grateful for Tommy though, he introduced you to Joel. Without him, who knows where you would have ended up or whom you'd end up with.
Once you two started dating, you had asked Joel what he thought of you when he met you and his response was touching.
"I saw you and knew one day, we'd end up like this. How we are now, I just knew it after getting to know you little by little."
He even repeated those very words in his vows to you on your guy's Wedding day.
Oh how you miss that day - The amount of love and faith passed around that day was joyous. Now, today you get to celebrate it all over again, a tradition you are more than okay with uplifting. Last year, you put on your Wedding dress, Joel his suit, and you two danced around your living room. The little moments like that are precious and sacred. You don't plan to do that this year, you'd rather go home and eat something, but it is a sweet subject.
You found yourself biting on the end of your pen as you thought about him and all the two of you have been through. You're like a school girl who gets her very first crush. You're obsessed with Joel, you'll admit it. It isn't a bad thing, not at all. You're happy to be with a guy who has you all over him. If you weren't, it wouldn't be a very passionate and fulfilling relationship, now would it?
"Gosh." You giggled to yourself, dropping the pen into its case. You stood up and double checked your office - Everything is in check. You, unfortunately, do work tomorrow so you want this office to be pristine when you come back. You may be bored and spent, but you aren't those enough to put yourself through hell tomorrow morning. But, everything seemed well enough.
You decided you'd wait outside for him to arrive. There are benches surrounding the front of the large, industrial building that you could wait on. Usually, you stay in your office and await a message from him but the sooner you're out there, the absolute better.
With your phone, drink and purse in hand(s), you made way out of the office building. The company you work for primarily focuses on having customers purchase things you sell; You work in the department for selling goods such as food, clothes and more. Other departments include things such as outside work and children's toys and wear. This section has always worked best for you and it's HQ is massive, you've always felt important walking into and out of the establishment.
Your office was set on the third floor and you couldn't complain, others were in the sixth or seventh. All you have to do is use the elevator and leave. You won't lie, sometimes you're a bit nervous doing this, in fear of the wrong person being outside when you are as well. You shoved those scary thoughts to the side, wanting to focus on the good and the possibility of greatness.
Exiting your office, you saw one of your coworkers, Leroy, leaving his office too. "Hi." "Hey stranger, you heading out?" "I am. Joel is picking me up." "Good to hear, once again, happy anniversary to the two of you." "Thanks Lee, we seriously appreciate that." Leroy was always a kind soul. He's an older man, he's wise and witty, you've always enjoyed that about him. Joel has always been a bit sketchy about the men you endorse yourself with but Leroys never bothered him. In fact, they've spoken a good few times.
"You leaving as well?" "I sure am, I also won't be here tomorrow." "Why's that?" "My sons wife is having my grandchild tomorrow, I can't wait to meet the little one." Leroy expressed great love for his children and grandchildren. He has three kids, two sons and a daughter. He also has four grandkids, three from his son and this upcoming one from his second son. From the pictures you've seen, they're so stinking cute! "That's amazing Leroy, congratulations." You are happy for both him and the parents. Such a blessing.
Kids was never a topic you and Joel much discussed. You want them someday for sure, but not yet, you want to wait maybe another year or two. Joel is great with children from what you have seen. When he met your younger siblings, he was so gentle with them, even sat down and played with them. Moments like those make you want to have babies sooner but you must wait, it isn't the time... Yet...
The elevator began to desend both you and Leroy down it and onto the first floor where the exit was.
When it opened, you stepped out of it alongside him. The two receptionists said bye to you both.
"I'll see you soon Leroy, have a good time meeting your grandbaby." You said to him with a friendly voice. "I sure will, take care!" Leroy shouted as he got into his truck and drove off into the moonlight.
You were all alone. You sat down on the wooden bench near the entrance of the establishment and waited there. The drive from your home to your work isn't all too bad, maybe ten minutes at the most but Joel tends to speed on the back roads and that gets him here much sooner than normally. You couldn't wait to arrive at home. Something different about you is the smell of places, they bring you different feelings and senses.
At work, you feel normal, just fine & content. The way the atmosphere is at work is boring, you don't have much fun there ever and you truly only like it for its isolation purposes and it's amazing pay. Home smells like Joel, who is your comfort and your joy. At home, you can let loose and be your honest self - Your best version. You have transferred your home into what was once a regular, janky house into a safe space for you and your husband to gladly share.
If you and Joel do have children someday, they'll surely be smothered in affection.
Gazing up at the countless stars in the sky, you tried to pass the time. It felt like ages before Joel actually arrived. You are also just utterly impaitent, you want to be home now. "Ugh." You groaned out, tossing your head back on the bench, a pouty look forming on your face; You texted him.
"Handsome, hurry, I miss you."
That'll get him speeding.
Joel is a smart guy, he is safe but also risky all at once. You worry for him, of course you do, but you trust him with your life. You practically trust him with anything. If he had to perform a transfusion on you, honestly, you'd let him. Joel is your lover and you love him more than he could ever imagine. Some may find it questionable, how much you have faith in him, but you don't at all, it's just how it is when you're in a relationship like your very own.
A buzz came from your phone whilst you were roaming the never ending thoughts that spiral in your head.
"Just entered town baby, now you be a patient girl and wait."
That got you wet, bingo.
Joel being strict has always had you in a chokehold.
"Fine."
And send.
-
That very recognizable black, lifted truck pulled into the parking lot. It's headlights were shining brighter than a diamond as they came through. Joel tinted them, the beam of them dimming as he parked and got out of the truck. He looked as good as ever, your handsome husband. He didn't park too far from the building either, it'd be only a couple seconds to walk to it but Joel is too much of a gentleman to let you amble there alone.
"Hey babygirl." Joel said in his deep, Southern voice as he spotted you. "Hi honey." You stood up, running up to him and jumping into his burly arms. Joel accepted your hug with open arms, a chuckle emitting from him as he held you. "Ya miss me baby?" He squeezed you, kissing the side of your head and getting a whiff of your fruity scented hair - He loves it. "So much." "I missed you too." Joel gruffly mumbled against your neck, pressing kisses to it.
The hug was long and loving. You missed him very much, especially his touch. Your guy's anniversary means the world to you and him, you didn't want to waste anymore time.
"Take me home." You laughed, still being held by him. "Sure thing darlin'." He replied, not putting you down but instead carrying you to the truck. You do have a personal vehicle but it is in the shop right now, so Joel has been driving you to and from work. Even when you do have your car, he'll drive you sometimes just for extra time. It's sweet, truly. Joel opened the passenger side door, the truck light turning back on when he did. The truck smelt great, he must've inputted a new air freshener. "Get in baby." He patted your ass as you got into the truck.
You scoffed playfully, sitting down and buckling in. The smell was actually amazing; The scent was earthy and woodsy - It's definitely Joel's vibe. He then got in after you, an audible grunt being heard from him as he sat down. You couldn't help but smile and admire him. He is wearing a stained blue t shirt with faded blue jeans, it appears to be casual clothes, or his work clothes. He didn't have to work today, yet you did, kind of bullshit.
He started the truck up and began to drive you two home.
"Leroy is having another grandbaby." You started up a conversation. "Is that so? Well, good for him then." Joel responded. He didn't know Leroy as well as you. "Yeah, thought it was cool, the baby being born around our anniversary." You giggled, leaning against the center console and looking at Joel. "Sure. And by the way, happy anniversary baby." Joel added on. He didn't forget, you know that, you two exchanged some kisses and cuddles this morning in honor of it. "I'm sorry you had to work today, on our special day." Joel concluded.
He's such a sweetheart.
"It isn't your fault, honey, it's not really anyones." You commented, taking his free hand in yours. Joel glanced over at you and gave you a hearty smile, knowing how much today meant to you. "I have a surprise for you at home." "You do, what is it?" "Now doll, if I told ya, that wouldn't be much of a surprise now would it?" Joel chuckled, bringing your soft, small hand up to his face and kissing it gently. "Well, you already revealed there's a surprise at home for me." "I did." "So... Wouldn't that mean it isn't much of a surprise?" "Can you just be quiet, my dear?" He teased you, his corners creasing as he bellowed.
Oh that smile and the way his eyes change as he laughs, it warms your big heart. You love seeing Joel happy and well, it makes you feel out of this world. "I love you." "I love you sweetheart." He replied, putting your hand down and instead moving his hand to your thigh. You let out a soft sigh, enjoying his touch. Although, usually whenever he grabs your thigh, it turns into something much more but you won't complain.
You rested your head against the window, looking out at the night sky. It was pretty. Your Wedding night was gorgeous too. It rained that day though, you love the rain but surely not on your Wedding day. You kind of, in a way, hoped it would rain tonight. It would be something special to you. When it was raining that night, you and Joel kissed passionately under the dazzling moonlight, embracing each other as you did. It was so memorable and you often catch yourself thinking about it.
Also, you were very curious as to what the upcoming surprise Joel has for you is. It could be anything. It's obviously for your anniversary, so it has to be wonderful, right? Anything Joel does for you isn't taken lightly, you love it all and cherish it equally. He puts in the effort and that is what matters most to you. You'd just have to wait the car ride out to see what it was.
Joel's hand still rested on your thigh and he'd squeeze it every so often, making you more and more wet. It's not shocking - Joel's touch has always been able to do that to you. You couldn't wait to get home with him, maybe he'd let you have him tonight.
Sometimes he's just too tired and that is understandable, he's a contractor after all, a busy man, you'd never ever pressure him into something he isn't in the mood for. But hopefully, he's in the mood tonight.
-
Pulling into the driveway of your guy's shared suburban home, Joel released a grunt as he parked his truck directly in front of the garage; To him, it was pointless to waste time driving it into it. He took his keys out of the ignition and gave you a quick look of 'C'mon' before he then opened his door, hopping out of the truck. You did the same. As you climbed out of the truck, you saw Joel waiting at the front porch for you. Such a silly man.
You shut the door and ran up to him, a contagious giggle came from you. You were excited, curious on what this socalled surprise was going to end up being. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes." Joel said softly, his hands going to your hips as he caressed them; He plans to hold you as you walk, just for safety measures. "Okay..." You hesitated but closed them shut & tightly, truly not wanting to ruin the surprise at all.
"Alright..." Joel spoke out with his deep, gruff voice. He opened the front door and began to lead you through the house and up to your guy's bedroom. You knew that's where you two were headed considering he had to literally carry you up the stairs. "I'm nervous." "Don't be sweetheart." He kissed your cheek and set you down as you reached the top.
The sound of him opening the bedroom door was heard loud and clear and afterwards, he ushered you into the room. Already, it smelt lovely, like roses. "Mmm, the smell." "Glad you like it, doll." Joel hummed, his hands now going over each eye. "Now, babygirl, you ready?" "Yes, I am." You snorted, your arms resting at your sides. "Ok." Joel laughed, removing his hands and allowing you to finally see what he had done for you and oh, it was magnificent.
All across the bed were rose petals, scattered neatly. The lights were dimmed, causing the atmosphere to seem very sensual. There was also a tiny, red box on the bed that you didn't pick up immediately, but once you did, you took a quick scan of the rest of the room. It was fully cleaned, he actually cleaned for once. The bed was even wonderfully made, for now... On your guy's dresser were lit candles, and that snapped you out of reality.
"You dumbass, did you leave candles lit when you came to get me?" "Hon, it was a sacrifice I was willin' to make." You scoffed. This man sometimes... Although, you couldn't help but titter and the laughter only increased once you opened up the red box. You were surprised, that's for damn sure, but also super happy. Inside was the morning after pill and instantly, you knew what he was implying. "Jesus Christ." You began to laugh hard, too hard, to the point you flopped onto the bed.
Seeing you lose it, also caused Joel too.
"Gosh baby, this is just-" You laughed so hard, you couldn't breath and Joel had to calm you down.
"Alright sweetheart, breathe." He snickered, cupping your face in his larger sized hands. You let out a deep breath, trying to collect yourself but it was hard. This man went out of his way to buy an expensive ass pill just to be able to cum inside of you, such a jack rabbit. "Okay, okay, I'm good." You sat up and rested our head against his lap. "Joel Miller, you're such a funny man." "And Mrs. Miller, you're such a beautiful woman and I'd like you to let me show you just how much I love you tonight." Oh his words...
You sat up, climbing into his lap as fast as you could. You were so happy he was down for this, especially on a night like this one. You encased your arms around his neck as you pulled him in for a deep, long & passionate kiss. Joel's arms went around your back, pulling you as close to him as he could. He longed for this, all damn day and so did you. Your guy's lips moved in a sloppy manner as you made out, just wanting each other ASAP and not being able to remove your hands from one another.
He gripped your ass, grinding you against his lap as he held you. Your pussy only got more wet by the second, each push & each pull made you yearn for him badly. "Joel..." "I know baby." He huffed, going back to kissing you with love. You held onto his scruffy face, your nails scratching lightly against his beard, enjoying how manly he was. His lips felt so heavenly against yours, his have always been the perfect match. Your guy's lips were like puzzle pieces that were finally able to connect.
"Mmm, here." You suddenly pulled from the kiss and began to unbutton your work shirt with the help of Joel's needy hands. He speedily removed it, tossing it to the floor and his singular hand snapping your bra off; You two were getting into it immediately. Joel brought his head down to your breast, suckling on your nipple and in his other hand, fondling the breast beside it. "Oh!" You moaned, tossing your hand back as your fingers roamed through his shaggy hair.
Joel has a huge thing for your tits, he thinks they're perfect.
"My girls." Joel rumbled out, kissing your tits numerous times whilst rubbing them. You giggled as you watched him, he was like a kid with their prized possession. He went back to suckling on them, both of his hands holding your lower back now. You held his head in your hands, practically babying him as he licked your nipples and kissed your breasts. "You're so sexy." You whispered, kissing the top of his head.
Your husband looked up at you, desperation full in his eyes. It is so clear he craves you just as you crave him. He kissed you gently as he flipped you onto the bed, a cute chuckle releasing from you as he did. He laughed as well, seeing you all giddy was always sure to do the same to him. He crawled on top of you, his hands going to the end of his blue shirt, pulling it off with a smile whilst he gazed at you. "Are we just going to fuck with all these rose petals on the bed?" "Adds to it darlin', don't ya think?" He teased, going down to your neck and biting it.
You tittered, holding onto him as he marked his territory all along your neck. "Mmm, need you inside of me." You whined with a giggle. You seriously needed your husband at this point, you needed his member. "Oh, is that so?" "Mhm." You mumbled, looking up at him with soft, doe-like eyes. "Alright babygirl." Joel laughed, leaning up so he'd be on his knees.
His hands went to your waist, his hands fidgeting with the buttons of your tight, formal jeans. You were required to dress nicely, not casual, each day to work. You usually wore a blouse and jeans, which is exactly what you wore today. "Damn fuckin' jeans." Joel grumbled, unbuttoning all three of the tabs before practically ripping them off of you. You squealed, now only in your panties. Joel smirked, the sight of you absolutely jaw dropping.
"You're so fuckin' beautiful sweetheart." Joel praised you, your wetness increased when he did. You lifted your waist up, a groan coming from you whilst you did. You pulled down your underwear and handed them to Joel, expecting that he'd toss them to the side as always but instead, he balled them up and sniffed them, his brown eyes closing as he embraced your scent. "Lord..." Joel hummed, stuffing the panties into his pocket real quick.
"Babe!" You scoffed while giggling, "You never do that." "Can't help myself, you smell good." He responded; He can be so cocky sometimes.
You stared as he removed his jeans. His erect cock flung out from his tight boxers, his pre-cum visible due to the light in the room. You sighed softly as he climbed back on top of you. You held your legs up, knowing he'd eventually place them on his shoulders for more support... And so that he can go deeper inside of you, but that's beside the point.
He adjusted himself into a position that was comfortable for the both of you. Joel was not selfish, especially during love making. He put you before himself, making sure you always feel pleased and for fucking sure making sure you cum first, always. You can't even recall a time he came before you because he's always too worried about your please - Not an issue to you though. "Can't wait to feel ya." Joel mumbled, grabbing his dick and lining it up to your soaked entrance.
You accepted him, accepted every part of him and waited patiently for him to move inside of you.
The tip of his cock teased your entrance as he so slowly pushed himself inside of you. Inch after inch, you couldn't quite make a call as to when he'd stop until a few seconds later. A whopping 7 inches wasn't something to scoff at. "Oh baby." You whimpered, your arms wrapped around his torso and on his upper back. Your hands were flat on it, the heat emitting from his back absorbed onto your hand, bringing a heated feeling to your own body. "So fuckin' tight baby, you feel great." Joel muttered as he stopped himself inside of you.
He gave you a moment to adjust and get used to him. It was not common for you two to fuck without a condom, so it felt different, it felt better. You gave him a nod, letting him know you were ready and that he could move. "Alright baby, tell me to stop if needed." He was always so respectful. Ever since the first time you two had sex, he's been this way, it never changed no matter how comfortable you two got with one another. "Mhm." You nodded, your eyebrows scrunching as he began to slide in & out of your core.
Each movement felt wonderful. He was so careful, making sure you didn't get hurt by his upcoming roughness. Joel is a softie at heart, mainly with you. No matter the circumstances, you come first. "You're squeezin' me, fuck." Joel laughed, his forehead pressed against yours as he fucked your cunt, making you drip onto him. "Oh yes." You moaned, your hands quickly moving to his forearms for better stability. Your nails dug into them, your lip also digging into your lower one. "That'a girl." Joel chuckled, his speed increasing every so slightly.
You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and his body. He's so perfect, in every way, shape and form. You love this man to death. His cock stroked your walls beautifully, each push and pull earning a quiet whimper out of you. You held him close, the warmth of his body only enhancing the experience of this shared love making. "Fuck sweetheart." He grunted into your ear, his breath hot, it was sexy. "What?" You whined out, holding onto his head still. "I feel like I'm gon' cum already." You loved how he spoke to you.
He lifted himself up from the crook of your neck, his eyes on yours as he grinned at you. His pace began to quicken and the force of his hips increased in roughness, you didn't mind, you only embraced it. "Harder Joel." You panted, touching him all over. "Mmm, you're so pretty, such a pretty little sweet thing." Your husband groaned out to you.
The sounds of his manhood slamming against your womanly hood was loud and so lewd. It was very erotic and attractive in a way. The room smelt like floral and sex, two of your favorite things. You could smell the faded cologne on Joel too, your favorite scent he owns. You had on his favorite perfume, hopefully he took notice of that. "Can't wait to cum so deep inside of this pretty little pussy of yours." Joel managed to speak out, clearly so indulged inside of you. The pleasure was taking over him and you assumed this would be the first time he finished first.
As he gawked at you, you whimpered out a squeak as he began to choke you. Of course, it didn't hurt, he was like a gentle giant, making sure it was just a light grip. One hand held both of your wrists down against the bed whereas the other held your pale, little neck. "Just keep starin' at me, I wanna look into those soft eyes as I cum in you." His way of dirty talking was relentless and always brought you closer to the damn edge.
By the look on his face, you could so easily tell what he wanted to do next and he wouldn't have to ask you twice.
"Open that mouth babygirl."
The words made your stomach twist in the most pleasurable, divine way imaginable.
You opened your mouth up for him, a whine releasing from deep inside you as the hold on your neck tightened, along with his pumps becoming more sloppy and reckless. He spit in your mouth, his white salvia dripping into your pretty, pink mouth. He watched, glory in his eyes. This was something Joel was really into and when he had first brought it up to you, you were totally irked by it.
"Uhm, no baby, that's gross." "Give it a shot baby."
And you did, you never regretted it.
You swallowed his spit, your eyes watering as you did, not because you were grossed out or anything but because you were so fucking close to the edge, you could taste it. "Atta girl." He unpinned your wrists now, his free hand going down to your clit; He could tell you needed to cum now.
Gazing into his eyes, your eyes were filled with desire and lust, you longed for him all day and finally, he was giving you exactly what you wanted. His chokehold only brought you more pleasure as his fingers worked their magnificent magic on your nub. "Cum baby." He purred to you, his chokehold now moving into a caressing of your cheek. You couldn't cum yet, you wanted to hold back as long as you could but he wouldn't let up. Rubbing you faster, he said, "Hon, you gotta cum or else I'll finish first." He spoke so sternly, it was the tone you needed.
All around his dick, you came, your back arching. Joel shushed you lovingly as he held you close, still pumping himself into you. "Mmm, such a good girl, you did well." He praised you, his face buried in your hair. He embraced you so sweetly. You could feel him deep inside of you still, the sensitivity heightening, over stimulation occuring. "Please cum." You whispered, wanting him to just finish. "Kiss me then." Joel grunted, smashing his lips against yours. You cupped his face and licked his lower lip, your tongue swirling inside of his mouth now.
With a few more thrusts, Joel came deep inside of you. You could feel his warm seed shooting through you like a fish in water. You moaned loudly, loud enough for Joel's eyes to widen, then for a chuckle to come out afterwards. "Dear God." You sighed softly, coming down from your high and from the feeling of him - He recovered rather hastely.
Joel pulled out of you and grabbed a random T shirt of his, cleaning the two of you up with it.
"You best not wear that after you just wiped us off." "Imma wear it." Joel shut down your statement, you opened your mouth in disgust, but deep down it was pretty hot of him.
"Anywho, happy anniversary doll." Joel grunted, plopping down beside you and pulling you closer towards him. "Happy anniversary, Joel." You kissed his nose and soon, the tired man was out like a bulb.
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