#especially when his relationship to jean is so complicated
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are you going to read tsc when it comes out? and, if not: would you like your acolytes to give you the important kevin day updates or would you rather not?
oh my acolytes huh! well i donât know :) itâs so nice of you to ask and iâm very touched actuallyâŠ. nice to me đ„čâŠ. i guess any (good) kevin updates would be nice and probably sway the balance on whether i read it or not, but at first glance i probably wonât read it unless it sparks my curiosity once itâs out and the story starts making its rounds around my circles :) iâm plenty interested in the period where jean stays with the foxes but i donât much care for the trojans nor the proposed storyline*, though even a picky reader like yours truly can be convinced into buying a story if kevin dayâs in it
*by this i donât mean that i Dislike the process of jean healing but itâs just overall not my favorite theme and, to be frank, i donât have much interest in reading about a normal well-adjusted team either. from my view tsc is aftg without my favorite parts (namely kevin day as a main character, the foxesâ messy dynamic, problematic and controversial side characters, neilâs narration, The Mafia, andrew in general) and while i am always and forever a ride or die for jean moreau, and i am glad heâs going to get better and be happy, a lot of my feelings for him donât really stem from the idea that there is a softness underneath all the grit but actually and sincerely the fact that he is crazy. i Love jean because heâs horrible and scared and cruel and i donât know if iâll care much for him once heâs out of that state :) i meant it when i said a few months ago that i wouldâve been more onboard with a story about the ravens (no matter how gruesome) or even a glimpse of jeanâs pov in the nest, though of course nora sakavic should probably choose to be happy every once in a while so i wouldnât ask her to write that
so tl;dr: you can send me good and relevant kevin updates if you want to and if theyâre interesting enough i might read tsc in the future
#sorryyyyyyy sorry i know Healing is a big theme for the fandom but i just dont care#i dont care for it as a broad concept and i dont care for it in the context of these characters#and i know the trojans are normal good people which is also not something i care for#though i am excited for laila and alvarez and i will be looking forward to that relationship getting discussed more#but the rest is just not for me and thatâs fine#i havent kept up with noraâs writing so i donât know what itâs like Now so whoâs to say! i might just as well get hooked as soon as it drop#i might finally be able to swallow the concept of jerejean even#these are just my pre-release thoughts#i also Worry and Pine and Ache over kevin and his new arc and whatever the hell jean thinks of him#only because i know kevin getting in the way of another popular ship is not going to be fun#especially when his relationship to jean is so complicated#and i will say this im not your strongest soldier if the kevin-bashing era returns after tsc iâm leaving through where i came from#so really i donât know :)! it might suck real bad it might be totally irrelevant and i might love it to death#its super up in the air atp#which for my autistic ass is. interesting. Hard. a change i did not want#but ultimately not a big deal and my anxieties get cured very quickly by frolicking in grass and hearing cats purr#actually thank you for asking this because i feel like i havent gotten around to really thinking this through#asks
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Unspoken
to everyone he's the indestructible wolverine, to you he's just logan â
Bf!Logan/Reader (3.5kw)
a/n: Iâm kinda over smut rn.. It requires too much thinking rn and I just want some love soâŠ
tw: mild sexual content, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, mild language, domestic fluff
---
Everyone wonders how exactly you managed to bring the bad boy home to mom. Okay, not exactly, but close enough. When you started showing up around Logan, everyone was thrown for a loop.
"This is Y/n," he would introduce you for the first time at a group outing. He unknowingly blocked you from his table of teammates, so you put a hand on his arm to move him over.
Smiling brightly at the group, you introduced yourself as his girlfriend. Scott and Jean were stunned, while Ororo just smiled. She moved, took out a seat beside her, and patted it. You'd look at Logan, and he'd give a curt nod before saying he was going to get you both a drink.
As he left, he placed a small hand on your back, and you smiled at him before he walked away. Settling beside Ororo, you made yourself comfortable.
"Alright, alright, now tell us the truth," Scott huffed, stuffing his face with the complimentary peanuts in the middle of the table.
"I'm sorry?" Your eyebrows squeezed together, making Scott chuckle.
"So you're really his girlfriend?" he asked, while Jean gave you a careful eye.
"It appears that way, doesn't it?" You turned away just in time to grab your drink from Logan, taking a sip before looking back at Scott.
Logan had told you a lot about Scott and their complicated relationship - a sort of "I have to like you because we're family" kind of thing. You'd never held any resentment towards Scott, but you were aware that sometimes it could seem like he thought less of Logan.
Scott didn't say anything further, instead continuing to munch on peanuts and occasionally cracking jokes, flashing you his award-winning smile. The group settled into casual chit-chat, with Logan's body pressed beside yours despite sitting in separate chairs.
His arm slung around the back of your chair, his thumb occasionally brushing against your arm - a subtle reminder that despite all the people in the bar, you could freely focus on whatever, knowing he had you.
As the night wore on, stories and laughs were shared, the alcohol doing a good job of loosening everyone up, especially you and Logan. You were still at a point in your relationship where everything felt fresh to the outside, so the idea of PDA was still nerve-wracking. Granted, you and Logan had touched each other a lot, but that was always behind closed doors. In public, Logan preferred to be more of a guard dog, always standing over you wherever you went.
It never bothered you. In fact, you relished the fact that Logan never left your line of sight; he made you feel protected and special. He never pushed your comfort level, and vice versa. You were acutely aware of Logan's character flaws, and mixed with the fact that it had been years since you'd dated anyone, it was nice not having to force the physicality between you two - it came naturally when it wanted.
Like right now, the comforting atmosphere and lightheartedness had you leaning into Logan's warmth. Your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, and his arm slipped off the back of the chair to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in. His hand lightly tickled your side as you absentmindedly ran your nails up his denim-clad thigh, the repetitive motion and feel of the micro-grooves beneath your fingers keeping you grounded.
You tried paying attention to the conversation, but each time Logan laughed, your whole body would shake along with his, and the deep rumble of his laughter would erupt from his chest - a sound you wished you could melt into.
"So why are you with Logan?" Jean asked, her cheeks flushed as she stared between you and Logan, watching the way his fingers played with the fabric of your shirt.
You ripped yourself away from thoughts of your boyfriend and tried to focus on the question at hand. "I'm sorry?" you said, having heard the question but unsure how to answer.
"Why Logan?"
You shifted in your seat to stare at the beefy man beside you. He looked down at you, a small smirk on his lips.
"Why Logan..." you repeated, pondering how to put into words the way this man made you feel.
How do you even put into words the way this man makes you feel? As mentioned before you hadnât dated in what felt like forever but with Logan everything fell into place.Â
Everyone at the table probably assumes that Logan would be the most dismissive lover ever, a taker not really a giver but oh boy were they wrong.Â
To you, it felt like you were the center of his universe.Â
Whenever Logan would spend the night, youâd always wake up to an empty bed. At first Logan would run out of your place as soon as the sun would hit but one morning when you thought you were alone you slipped into one of Loganâs shirts you had lying around and when you pad to the kitchen you find the giant man surrounded by a rush aroma of coffee. And itâs been like that ever since.Â
Whenever Logan stays over heâs always up before you. The smell of coffee wafting throughout the apartment coaxing you out of bed. Once in the kitchen thereâd be Logan in all his morning glory, shirtless with sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips, pouring the hot liquid into your favorite mug knowing youâd never say no to it.Â
He doesn't ask how you take it, heâs never had to. He just places the mug softly in front of you as you sit on a stool and watches you take a sip with a small smile.Â
Placing the mug down, you return the smile, and like clockwork Logan rounds the counter, turns your chair, and places himself between your legs. Your hands find their place at his side as he holds your face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on your lips. These quiet morning moments are just one of the many things you cherish about your life with Logan.
But it's not just the gentle moments that make your relationship special. Logan's protective nature extends to all aspects of your life together, including the more practical ones.
There have been a few times you've come home thinking someone's broken in. Loud clanging could be heard as soon as you walked in. You grabbed an umbrella from beside the door and stalked quietly toward the sound. When you finally turned the corner down the hallway, you noticed the bathroom light was on. With the umbrella held tightly, you stepped closer to the bathroom. There you found Logan tinkering under the sink, the clanking sound coming from the metal against the pipes. He was muttering to himself, brows furrowed in concentration, his muscles constricting beneath his dark blue shirt.
âMy handyman.â You tease, discarding the umbrella and leaning against the door frame watching him work.Â
Without looking back at you he says âSomeoneâs gotta do it, darlinâ.â You let out a small laugh, before walking away to get him a glass of water. When you come back heâs finishing up.Â
He wipes his hands with a towel, and takes the glass from your hand.Â
âMy hero.â You say, finding your spot against the doorframe, smiling up at him, eyes filled with adornment for the man in front of you. He just pulls you in close and kisses your forehead.Â
âCanât have you dealinâ with this kind of thing.â He says.Â
âOh but sir,â You feign innocence, a small smirk growing on your lips. âI donât get paid until Friday,â You hook a finger in his belt loop giving it a tug. âHowever, shall I repay you?â You cock your head to the side, and Logan quirks an eyebrow before playing along.Â
âDidnâtya know? I take other forms of payment.â His voice is low as he grabs your hips guiding you backwards. You laugh as he quickly shuffles backwards into your room.Â
The both of you stumble onto the bed, and Loganâs weight presses against you just enough to make you feel deliciously suffocated. His eyes are filled with mischief as he hovers over you, hands resting on either side of your head.Â
âOh my, what form of payment were you thinking of?â You ask, voice playful but becomes breathless as he leans in to nose at your neck, lips lightly brushing against the soft skin of your neck.Â
He chuckles slowly, âI think yâalready know sweetheart.âÂ
Before you can say anything he catches your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, making it clear how he plans to collect.Â
His weight grounds you, as the teasing is forgotten, replaced with a slow electric pull of desire. Loganâs hand skims all over your body, gentle but firm, reminding you that youâre his in every way that counts.Â
When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. âNow, âbout that payment.. Donât think that was enough, princess.âÂ
You bite your lip, giving him a coy smile as your fingers slide down his chest. âWell, Iâd hate to leave a debt unpaid, Sir.âÂ
Logan leans down to brush his lips against yours, his voice a gravelly whisper. âThen you better make it worth while, buttercup. I donât do all this hard work for nothinâ.â He teases.Â
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. âOh donât worry. I always leave a generous tip.âÂ
With a grin, Logan kisses you again, deeper than before. His hands continue their exploration as the playful banter gives way to something more intense, and heated. And just like that, all thoughts are replaced with only the two of you tangled up in each other, lost in the moment.Â
While these passionate encounters are exhilarating, they're not the only moments you treasure with Logan. In fact, your favorite kind of moments are often much quieter, born from the shared fatigue of long days and the comfort you find in each other's presence.
Your favorite kind of moments would have to be the days Logan comes over after a long day, the kind that left both of you feeling drained by the time the moon came over the horizon.
Youâd flop onto the sofa as soon as youâd get home, letting the tension ease away from your muscles when five minutes later Logan opens the door, which you left unlocked for him.Â
Without saying a word he flops beside you, causing your body to follow the cave of the cushions and melt into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and he snakes his arm around your waist, heavy hand resting on your hip squeezing lightly.Â
âHi Baby.â You whisper, caressing his face. He looks down at you with hooded eyes and gives you a small smile.Â
âHi,â he murmurs, leaning down to give you a soft, lazy kiss before pulling back and resting his head against the back of the sofa.
 You hum contentedly, your arms tightening around him for a moment, the tenderness between you growing. Logan shifts beneath you, his large hands easily grabbing your legs, guiding them to rest over his lap. With a bit of maneuvering, he ends up leaning on his elbow, his arm still wrapped protectively around your waist, while youâre stretched out across the sofa, your legs draped over his, your bodies intertwined in the most comforting way.
Heâs partially laying down now, with you tucked securely against him, and the gentle weight of his arm across you feels grounding, the two of you perfectly melted into one another.
âHow was your day?â you ask softly, fingers gently caressing the back of his neck. Logan doesnât respond right awayâ he instead lets out a low huff and buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.Â
âAwe, the poor kitty.â You tease, patting his head lightly. Logan grunts, but the hint of a smile plays on his lips as his grip tightens around your waist.Â
âYeah, yeah.â he mumbles, clearly too tired to give much of a response. You smile, allowing yourself to soak in the warmth of him, but after a moment, the thought of washing the day away crossed your mind.Â
You run your fingers through his hair one last time before sighing. âI should go shower,â you say, gently pulling away from him. Logan lets out a gruff dissatisfied grumble as you move to sit up, his arm still draped around you.Â
âStay here,â he mumbles, a hint of a pout in his voice as he watches you sit up.
You chuckle softly, stretching as you stand and walk toward the bathroom. âYou could always come with meâŠâ you say casually, your back still to him as you head down the hallway.
Loganâs eyes follow you, and he huffs, pushing himself off the couch. âYou know Iâm not saying no to that.â
Before long, youâre both under the warm spray of the shower, the dayâs exhaustion melting away. Logan stands still, eyes half-closed, letting the water run down his body. His skin glistens under the spray, rivulets tracing the lines of his body. You breathe in the steamy air, heavy with the scent of soap and Logan's own earthy musk.
Squeezing shampoo into your palm, its crisp herbal aroma cuts through the steam. Your fingers slide through Logan's hair, now slick and dark as ink. He leans into your touch, a low rumble of pleasure vibrating in his chest. His normally guarded expression softens, the furrows in his brow smoothing as your fingertips work small circles against his scalp.
Logan leans into your touch, his broad shoulders loosening as your fingers work their magic. The taut muscles beneath his skin gradually unwind, melting under the warmth of the water and the gentle pressure of your hands. You can feel the subtle shift in his posture as he surrenders to the soothing sensation, his breath deepening and slowing in response to your careful attention.Â
The steam swirls around you both, creating an intimate cocoon that seems to exist outside of time. You take your time, savoring the quiet vulnerability of the moment, your fingers moving with deliberate care through his hair.
"Mmm," Logan murmurs, his voice husky and low. "S'nice."
His eyes flutter open, meeting yours through the misty air. The look he gives you is unguarded, full of a tenderness that makes your breath catch. You continue your gentle massage, feeling the last remnants of tension melt away beneath your touch.
You guide him under the spray, watching as the water sluices away the soap, leaving his hair gleaming. Your hands trail down to his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of him. The shower continues for a few more minutes, the rhythmic pattern of water creating a soothing backdrop.
Logan steps out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabs your plush robe from the hook and helps you slip it on. The soft fabric feels warm and comforting against your skin, still flushed from the hot shower.
Logan's hands linger for a moment on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Cozy?" he asks, his voice soft. You nod, enjoying the simple comfort of the moment.
As you make your way to the bedroom, Logan settles on the edge of the bed while you rummage through the dresser. You pull out one of Logan's well-worn t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, slipping them on. The familiar scent of him envelops you, a comforting mixture of cedar, a hint of motor oil, and something uniquely Logan.
Despite countless cycles through the washing machine, his scent clings stubbornly to the fabric. It's as if it's woven into the very threads, resistant to detergent and hot water alike. You breathe in deeply, savoring the aroma that's quintessentially him - a scent that speaks of strength, of safety, of home.
The shirt hangs loosely on your frame, soft from years of wear. As you pull it over your head, you're wrapped in an invisible embrace, Logan's presence tangible even in this simple piece of clothing.
Turning around, you catch Logan absent-mindedly rubbing the towel over his head. You can't help but smile at the sight. "Here, let me help," you say, fetching the hair dryer from the bathroom.
You plug it in and step between Logan's legs, gently taking the towel from his hands. The dryer hums to life, and you run your fingers through his hair as you work, watching it become soft and fluffy under your ministrations.
"Look at you, all fluffy," you tease gently, running your hand through his hair.
Logan's eyes crinkle with amusement. In one swift motion, he pulls you close, guiding you to sit across his lap. "You're one to talk," he rumbles, nuzzling into your neck.
You laugh softly, your fingers still playing with his hair. It's so soft now, and you can't resist running your hands through it again and again. Logan lets out a contented sound, almost like a purr, leaning into your touch.
Gradually, you both shift to lie on the bed, limbs tangled comfortably. Logan's arms are wrapped around you, holding you close like you're the most precious thing in the world. You continue to stroke his hair, feeling the last bits of tension leave his body.
The room is quiet now, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing. As sleep begins to tug at the edges of your consciousness, you feel utterly safe and loved in Logan's embrace. His breathing deepens, and you know he's drifting off too.
Few moments out of thousands flash through your mind as you sit at the bar, Jean's question hanging in the air. "Why Logan?" The memories of tender mornings, playful banter, quiet evenings, and the feeling of absolute safety in his arms all blend together, forming your answer.
You look up at Logan, who's watching you with a mix of curiosity and affection. The warm glow of the bar lights catches the amber flecks in his eyes, making them seem to smolder. You can feel the solid warmth of his body pressed against yours, his familiar scent - a mixture of leather, pine, and something uniquely him - wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You turn back to Jean with a soft smile, the taste of your drink still lingering on your lips.
"It's hard to put into words," you begin, your voice warm with emotion. The words catch in your throat as a flood of memories washes over you - Logan's rare, genuine laugh that always makes your heart skip a beat; the feeling of absolute safety in his strong arms; the tender moments in the quiet of the morning when he thinks you're still asleep. You open your mouth, ready to pour out your heart, but then you catch yourself. The intimacy of those moments feels too precious to share in the bustling, noisy bar.
Instead, you simply say, "Let's just say, when you know, you know."
The conversation moves on, but you can feel Logan's eyes on you, sense his curiosity. As you both leave the bar later, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside, Logan gently tugs your hand, pulling you close.
"What were you really gonna say back there, darlin'?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. His breath, warm and smelling faintly of whiskey, ghosts over your cheek.
You look up at him, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the softness in his usually stern eyes. For a moment, you consider telling him everything - how he makes you feel, why you love him. But something holds you back. Maybe it's the lingering effects of the alcohol, or the magic of the nighttime city around you, but instead, you stretch up on your toes and press a soft kiss to his lips.
"I'll tell you someday," you murmur against his mouth, feeling his lips curve into a smile. "But for now, why don't we head back to my place."
Logan's arm wraps around your waist as you walk to his truck, and you lean into him, savoring the moment. The unspoken words hang between you, a promise for the future, as sweet and intoxicating as the night air.
---
a/n: quick! somebody call a dentist -- i think my teeth are rotting,,
#logan howlett#wolverine#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#logan x reader#wolverine fanfic#wolverine x men#wolverine fluff#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james logan howlett#james howlett#logan wolverine#the wolverine#logan fic#logan fanfic#logan james howlett#logan fluff#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett xmen#fluff
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all bark, no bite
max verstappen - team principal au
tags: smut/pwp, halloween fic, costumes (reader dresses as a puppy), collars, team principal!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), power dynamic, semi-public sex, quiet-ish sex, clothed sex, dirty talk
a/n: have a happy halloween, i'm writing more team principal au, if you have any suggestions for future installments, please send them to me. i love hearing what ya'll come up with!!
"you are not going to the party like that." you felt like you were being scolded by your father rather than your boss. you made a face and looked over to see your team principal near by.
you stuck your tongue out, "too bad." then started to walk further away from your driver's room and towards the exit. but, you didn't get far, not while your boss had a longer stride than you.
he captured your wrist and pulled you back, closer to him. in your heels, you staggered backwards. you looked up at him and frowned. he said, "i said, you're not going out like that."
"i don't have another costume." you bit back.
max made a face, "go as a verstappen racing fan. i don't know. but i'm not having you cause a scene because you decided to dress like a whore."
you had a complicated relationship with your team principal. you had seen the jokes over the years of tps having interesting dynamics with drivers, even drivers not on their team. you had even seen memes about your own dynamic with max verstappen.
if only they knew.
he had you pinned to his chest, with his hand on your wrist as he examined your neck from the odd angle. he clicked his tongue and said, "what is this costume even supposed to be?"
you replied, "a puppy."
"a puppy, huh? usually puppies have some manners. they at least look a little apologetic when their owners are mad at them." he sad as he used his other hand to touch at the collar around your neck, "you're not very apologetic towards me."
"you're not my owner."
he replied, "you may not have my name around your neck. but you have my logo across your pretty tits every time you race. i'd say that's about the same thing." you are max verstappen were intimate in a way that would send the press into a heated frenzy. you gave him racing results and he gave you the world.
but he had such a possessive streak through him. a jealous old man. you whined when he held onto your throat a little tighter. you shifted a little under his touch.
he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and squeezed the collar a little, thus squeezing your throat. he groaned, "if you wanted me to fuck you on halloween, you only had to ask." he held on a little tighter.
there was no one else around. there wouldn't be. halloween was on a thursday, practice didn't start till tomorrow. you eventually ended up on the transport boxes with the skirt of your dress hiked up.
you were dressed like a dalmatian, except anyone could make out the shape of your body. max had expectations for you as a driver for his team. he knew what it was like to be young with the world at your fingertips. he was meant to guide you. especially with how everyone recorded anything.
"hoping to get lucky tonight, puppy?" he asked as he pushed the dress up, exposing the thin, white cotton panties underneath. he licked his lips, "we could've gone back to my hotel room and played all night. fetch, tug-o-war, maybe you'd even get a bone by the end of the night." he licked his lips.
your face flushed and you shifted against the metal and plastic of the boxes. the surface was uneven and left your back feeling sore. this felt so public, it wasn't in the most excluded area. you swallowed, "oh my god, shut up." and whined when he kissed at your neck. your panties were around your ankles.
and when he kissed you, you heard the clink of his belt buckle and the zip of his jeans. he loomed over you. he was boarder than you, he could easily overshadow and overpower you. you whined when you felt his cock rub up against your slick entrance.
he said, "aw, look at that. they're kissing." he was talking about his sticky cock up against your slick pussy. the blunt head up against your clit. it made you feel a rush of pleasure through you.
you could feel the excitement, the risk of it all. if some stray reporter came through here or a security guard. you knew what the headlines for the weekend would be.
young, promising driver takes a ride on her team principal.
he sank into your sweet cunt and your ached your back. you let out a small noise and max put a hand over your mouth. your nose was left uncovered so you could breath. his other hand was on your thigh as he rocked against you. he said in a low voice, "you know i love when you're loud, but you have to to stay quiet. you can be a good puppy, right? be a good girl for me."
his praise made something bloom in your stomach as he moved against you. you had a total kink for his praise, that was why you always pushed yourself so hard on the track. it was why you were over a hundred points ahead of the second place racer. you thrived off of it, to have someone like max give you praise.
you moaned against his hand, your voice muffled as he rocked against you. his cock slotted in you so well. you exhaled deeply through your nose. you couldn't feel your headband anymore and hair got in your face as he fucked you in such a public space.
"fuck." he groaned, "you have no idea what you do to me.' he moved against you further, "i never know i liked costumes. maybe next year, you should go as me." he chuckled as he curved over you and got at a deeper angle, "but i sort of like you in a collar better."
you groaned and reached for his shoulders. you clutched onto his shoulder tightly. his cock hit up against the softest parts of you and it made you see stars. you panted heavily and tried to keep quiet even though max's hand was good at muffling most of the noise.
you pretty painted black nails dug into his shoulders through the verstappen racing t-shirt he wore. you looked good with his logo across your chest, but he looked just as nice in a black t-shirt.
hunger ran through you as he fucked your feverishly. there was no time for tenderness. while he loved taking you apart with his tongue and fingers. there really was no time to waste.
you felt the heat on your body, your costume stuck to you in a weird way. the blank tag on your collar bounced with the movements of your boss' thrusts. something about this felt wrong, it was wrong. you were certain there had been casual affairs throughout the decades of formula one.
but nothing quite like this. the protege of one of the greatest being fucked by her boss. your pretty tits bounced with a whorish movements as she got railed in the paddock of her team. quite the scandal if it got out.
most thought you fucked your way to the top. but, in all fairness, max saw how you drove before he saw the sway of your hips. he valued your skill more than your ability to suck his cock or take his thick fingers in your slick pussy.
you were his champion, sex was just a component of it. he took your virginity, and you gave him the points he needed to win. you tightened your legs around him as he continued to drill his cock into you. the pace increased as you felt the swarm of pleasure in your head.
you weren't going to the party tonight. you could already tell.
"next time." he said, "i'll get you a proper collar. something a little more padded. with a tag with my name on it. if you're going to be my puppy then, you'll have to look the party. don't worry about a tail or ears. you'll do just fine in lacy lingerie that i can tear off with my teeth."
you swallowed, your cunt clenched around him as he continued to fuck you with a heavy pace. your felt any sense go out your ear, fully engulfed by the heat between you two. max knew how to make you feel good, he knew exactly how to get your yearning for more. if you were a puppy then he was the big, bad wolf.
you whined around his hand and he pressed his palm further against you. he shushed you and held onto your hip tighter as he thrusted against you. he watched your eyes roll a little from the pleasure of the entire situation.
he could feel the leap in his chest and the sweat on his back. he didn't often fuck you in such a public place. but he couldn't help himself. you got to prance off to some luxury party hosted by drivers of another team. you were going to be with liquor, boys and whatever else money could buy.
of course he was going to be concerned about his darling driver. his superstar. after all, he had high expectations for you. you were going to be the best if you weren't already. and he wasn't going let you ruin it over some cheap shots and boys with small packages. he knew you needed someone older, someone like him.
the pace became faster, erratic with little formalities. there was little rhythm to it as his cock kissed the hottest parts of you. the parts that made you pant under his hand. your gaze became unfocused and your blood pumped in your ears.
you clutched onto him and whined something that max couldn't hear. he replaced his hand with his lips. the kiss was hot as you held onto him tightly. it was all too much, the pleasure crossed through you like a heated sword and you came around his cock.
he groaned when you clenched around him. your nails dug into his skin. it only fueled his need to fuck you harder. while not the most ideal position. he'd make due. when you broke the kiss, you panted heavily with your gaze unfocused. you looked whorish, but max loved it.
the pace continued, and max made sure that your body was wracked with more lust as he continued to fuck you. he cursed in dutch under his breath as he gave it a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you.
you both moaned a little louder than you hoped for. you leaned forward against him. your pressed your cheek against his clothed chest as you tried to catch your breath.
max composed himself quickly and combed his fingers through your hair tenderly. he groaned, "good, puppy."
you looked up at him and asked, "can i go to the party tonight?"
he chuckled and patted your cheek with a little force. he chuckled, "cute. no, no. you're going to get your messy panties back on and we're going back to the hotel. i'm not letting a good puppy like you get into trouble." he pinched your cheek which made you whine.
"plus, i think you need some more training."
-
the following morning, your teammate was walking through the paddock beside you. the two of you were chatting, but your stomach dropped when he looked over and noticed something over one of the boxes.
you two stopped and before your teammate could say a word. your teammate pointed at the headband. you felt a cold sweat as he asked, "are those... dog ears?" then looked at you, "those look like the ones you were supposed to wear to the party last night... you never came to that."
you chuckled nervously, "well, i got tired... but mine are in my hotel room." you heard whistling and looked over to see your team principal walking by. you called for max, "max, isn't my costume in my hotel room."
he perked up and looked over. he pointed to the headband on the box and replied, "oh no.. those are yours." your boss broke into a grin. and your eyes went wide as he walked away.
you could feel your ears burn as your teammate asked.
"where were you last night anyway?" <3
this is part of the max verstappen team principal au
#bunny writes#halloween fic#halloween#team principal!max#tp!max#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula 1#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula one fanfiction#formula one smut#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#max smut#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv33 smut#mv1#mv1 smut#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic
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the aftermath of sex with rafe and youâre about to roll out to leave and heâs like âwhatâs going onâ and youâre like âoh you want me to stay?â
decided to use this request for bitchy!pogue!reader, bc i love their dynamic in my last drabble for them and wanted to see their relationship develop!! hope that's okay and thank you for the request!!đ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒ
said it a million times, only stay with you one more night - r.c
pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe
your breath was still shaky as you lay in rafeâs bed, staring up at the ceiling. the room smelled like sex and bad decisionsâthe same old combination every time you found yourself tangled up with him.
what the fuck had you done? again.
you groaned internally, rolling to the side and blinking at the mess of clothes on the floor. your clothes. you needed to get out of here, like you always did after. this was a routine by nowâfuck rafe, get dressed, leave before shit got weird.
but, of course, it was always weird with rafe.
he was your worst mistake on repeat, the asshole kook you swore you hated but couldnât seem to stop ending up in bed with. and you werenât entirely wrong. he was an asshole. that perfect jawline of his clenched every time he looked at you, like he wanted to snap orâsnap you in half, depending on the day. he acted like he couldnât stand you most of the time, and you loved it.
especially when you knew exactly where that frustration would end up:Â right between your legs.
you knew the deal. this thing with rafe was nothing but sex. pure tension. you loved driving him insane, loved the way his face would twist, how his hands would grip your hips with just a little too much pressure, like he had something to prove. but the second it was over, he always turned cold. heâd stare at you with that same lookâdisgusted, maybe even regretfulâlike he couldnât believe heâd let himself touch you.
and you werenât about to stick around for that bullshit.
with a sigh, you pushed the covers back and swung your legs out of the bed, standing up with a wince as your body reminded you just how hard he'd fucked you. the soreness in your thighs was a not-so-subtle reminder of how you ended up here, naked, in his bed again when you swore to yourself that the last time was really the last time.
you didnât even bother looking at him as you reached for your jeans on the floor, pulling them on quickly. you needed to get out of here before he started up with that whole âi donât even know why i did thisâ attitude, like you were the problem.
 âwhere are you going?â
you didnât even look back at him as you yanked your top over your head. âleaving. whatâs it look like?â
the bed creaked as he sat up, and you could practically feel his eyes burning into your back. âwhat the fuck is going on?â
you paused, one arm halfway through your top, rolling your eyes at his tone. now he wanted to act like something was different? âwhat do you mean, whatâs going on?â you shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. ââm leaving. you know, like i always do after we fuck.â
rafe didnât answer right away, and for a second, you thought maybe heâd just let it go. but then he surprised you.
âyou donât have to go.â
you turned around slowly, narrowing your eyes at him. âwhat? you want me to stay now?â he never asked you to stay. hell, he was usually halfway out the door emotionally before you even got your clothes back on.
his face hardened at your reaction, that familiar pissed-off look settling into his features. âyeah, i donât know, maybe i do.â
you laughed, genuinely surprised. âsince when? you want me to hang around and play house after?â
âdo you always have to make everything so fucking complicated?â
you raised an unimpressed brow, âokay, i think you hit your head on the bedframe earlier.â
âshut the fuck up and get in bed.â
you froze, mid-laugh, becauseâwaitâwhat? rafe cameron, the king of "get out before i pretend you donât exist," actually wanted you to stay.
âexcuse me?â you blinked at him, fully expecting him to break character any second
he was unpredictable like that. one minute, he was treating you like youâre beneath himâlike you were the dirty secret he couldn't believe he kept hooking up withâand the next? he was saying stuff that made your heart do this stupid thing it had no business doing.
âget back in bed,â he demanded, like he actually expected you to listen.
âwhy? so you can flip back to being a fucking asshole in the morning?â
he rolled his eyes and groaned like you were the exhausting one here, âcan you justââ he hesitated, clearly fighting with whatever stupid thoughts were bouncing around that kook head of his. âjust come back to bed.â
and oh god, why did he have to sound almost...vulnerable?
you stared at him, fully aware this was a bad idea. the two of you didnât âdoâ feelings. shit, he barely âdidâ conversation after sex. this wasnât just out of character for him; it was out of this planet.
so you crossed your arms and tilted your head, leaning against his dresser like you had all the time in the world. âare you serious right now, cameron? you actually want me to stay? for what, a cuddle session? netflix?â
he gave you that trademark irritated look, tongue poking his cheek. âyouâre so fucking difficult.â
âyeah, well, youâre not exactly easy, baby.â
you smirked, half expecting him to snap again. but instead, he did something you never saw coming. he ran a hand through his messy hairâfull-on frustratedâand sighed. a real sigh. and then, in this quiet voice that was so unlike him, he said, âmaybe i just donât want you to leave.â
you felt your stomach flip. no no no. this wasnât part of the deal. you two werenât supposed to catch feelings. but the way he was looking at you, all raw and real for once, made your brain go foggy. you could leave right now. walk out, just like you always did, like a smart girl.
but something in his voice was pulling you back, like maybe this time was different. ârafeâŠâÂ
âjust stay,â he murmured, eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you started this whole messed-up dance with him, you saw something in his face that wasnât anger or lust or annoyance.
it almost looked like...he cared. maybe youâd stay, just to see what this was about.
you werenât about to let your guard down completely. you werenât some naive kook princess. you knew how to protect yourselfâespecially from guys like him, because letâs be honest, rafe was a certified disaster in human form. and you werenât any better.
you sighed, running a hand through your hair. âif i stay, youâre not gonna pull some âi donât know why i did thisâ bullshit tomorrow, right? âcause âm not dealing with that again, cameron.â
he huffed, but there was this softness to it. âcan you just stay without turning everything into a fight?â
âturning it into a fight?â you raised a brow, incredulous. âthatâs literally your specialty.â
rafeâs jaw tightenedâagainâbut instead of snapping back like usual, he just stared at you. ââm not asking for forever, alrighâ? just one night. jesus.â
one night.
you could do one night, right?
you climbed back onto the bed, settling into the sheets next to him. it felt...weird. not in a bad way, just different. usually, youâd be out of here by now, shorts half-buttoned, sneaking out like some guilty secret. but this? lying next to him, clothes still off, in his bed, with his scent all around you? it felt more intimate than any of the wild, angry sex youâd had with him before.
âhappy now?â you muttered, glancing over at him.
rafe didnât say anything for a second. he just looked at you, like he wasnât sure how to act either. âyeah. maybe i am.â
it was bizarre, how different this felt from all the other times. there was no rush to leave, no awkward scramble to avoid the inevitable âi shouldnât have done thatâ speech. just the two of you, lying there in silence. you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. it wasnât a big, dramatic move, just his fingers lightly grazing your skin.
it was such a small thing, but somehow, it felt... huge. rafe was the last guy on earth you ever expected to be soft, especially with you. but here he was, in this tiny, almost awkward moment, doing something that felt closer to intimacy than anything else youâd ever shared. what the hell was happening?
âyouâre acting like a human being. itâs weirding me out.â
he smirked, but it didnât have the usual arrogance behind it. âmaybe 'm just tired of being an asshole.â
you chuckled, shaking your head. âthat would be a first.â
he didnât fight back like you expected. instead, his hand moved a little under the covers, and suddenly, his fingers were really holding yours, not just grazing but actually intertwining with your own. you blinked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart flip-flop in a way that annoyed you. this wasnât what you signed up for, not even close.
but then again, when had anything with him ever gone according to plan.
âwhy are you doing this?â you asked quietly, trying to ignore how fast your pulse was beating.
rafeâs jaw clenchedâagain, with the jaw clenchingâbut this time, it didnât feel like frustration. he was thinking, actually thinking about what to say, and that alone was enough to make you nervous.
âi donât know,â he admitted, âi justââ He stopped himself, taking a deep breath like the words were hard for him to get out. âmaybe i donât hate you as much as i thought i did.â
that threw you for a loop. he was never this honest. you stared at him, eyes wide, waiting for the punchline, but there wasnât one. he wasnât smirking, wasnât trying to act like he didnât care. he just... said it. like it was the most normal thing in the world to admit feelings when feelings werenât even on the table.
âWow,â you breathed, genuinely shocked. âyou really hit your head earlier.â
he snickered, but it sounded differentâsoft, even. âYeah, maybe I did.â
âshould i call for a doctor?â
it was unsettling seeing him like this, not lashing out or shutting you down with a snide comment.Â
âyou donât always have to make everything a joke.â
your eyebrows shot up at that, the surprise clear on your face. âexcuse me? thatâs literally what we doââ you gestured vaguely between the two of you. âthatâs our thing.â
he just sighed, shaking his head like he was genuinely exasperated with you. before you could throw out another sarcastic remark, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.
his hand gripped the back of your neck with just enough pressure to hold you in place, but there was a tenderness in the way his fingers tangled in your hair. his lips met yours gently at first as if testing the waters, and the softness of it scared you. you were so used to him being all teeth, nipping, and biting, that this moment of quiet, hesitant intimacy caught you off guard. he kissed you like he was savoring itâlike this was something he wanted to remember.
his thumb brushed lightly along your jawline, as the kiss deepened, his lips pressing a little harder against yours, but it still lacked the aggression youâd come to expect from him. there was no desperation here. his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, gentle but insistent, and without thinking, you parted your lips, letting him in. your bodies stayed close, but it wasnât the usul closeness that came from lust. the slow, languid rhythm of his mouth against yours was intimate in a way that felt too personal.
rafe was kissing you like you were someone he cared about, like you were more than just another way to burn off steam. this wasnât what you two did. you werenât supposed to share soft touches and slow kisses. you were supposed to fight, tear each other apart, then fuck like it was the only thing holding you together.
when the kiss finally broke, you felt dazed, staring at him like you didnât recognize the person in front of you. rafe, however, didnât seem fazed. he just looked at you with those piercing blue eyes, still holding the back of your neck like he was afraid youâd bolt the second he let go.
âi meant it,â he said quietly, his voice a low, âi donât want you to leave.â
âi donât do this,â you muttered, shaking your head. âwe donât do this.â
rafeâs grip on your neck loosened, but his hand didnât move. âi know. just tonight.â
you closed your eyes, breathing him in. he smelled like sweat and sex and something that made your entire body hurt in a way you hadnât expected. maybe he wasnât asking for forever, but staying here with him felt like it could change everything.
one night and youâd worry about tomorrow when it came.
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what we started - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: based on this request! while you expected it, you didnât anticipated it for it to hurt this much. when youâre at youâre lowest is it possible for him to lift you back up? to continue his promise of his underlying love for you? even though he's your brother's best friend?
wc: 4.2k | masterlist | judeâs masterlist
psađŁïž: HAIII!! missed you all! hope everyone spent their breaks and or holidays well spent! hereâs a brothers bsf trope fic just bc đ€ jealous jude and slightly possesive if you squint. bold+italics are lyrics from cool about it by boygenious! i hope you enjoy!đ€
you let out a breath of fresh air, more than thankful to finally get out for winter break. It was a long semester, and don't get started on finals week. you felt like your head would explode any second if you didn't get home in the next hour. no more studying and notes for the next two weeks, just finally getting to sleep in and relax.Â
the trip home was easy and quick to your surprise, giving you a chance to get some snacks along the way so you could eat while watching a movie later on. you blocked out any noise from outside, listening to the song cool about it by boygenious which played loudly on your phone, was it a good idea even though your head hurt? yes, yes it was.Â
your eyebrows squinted at the amount of cars parked in the driveway and sidewalk. quickly realizing that your brother's friends and yours were here. you groan inwardly, finally thinking you had a moment of peace but were proven wrong. as much as you loved them, and still a certain individual, you wanted to be alone for the night. just you and your stuffed animals.Â
before opening the door, a sudden wave of nervousness arrived upon you. your body was telling you to go inside and greet everyone, but then again your head spoke differently and decided to make you overthink. as you reached for the knob you pulled your hand back, was he here? the man you'd avoided since he broke up with you three months ago?Â
jude. he was all you thought about despite it hurting. he was a forbidden man you couldn't date, made clear by your brother especially. yet that didn't stop you from going to him. to start a relationship that soon went south. not even a year you lasted together. it was all too complicated for you and him. the man you once snuck into your room so you could spend time with, could now be standing inside the door in front of you.Â
with much bravery and courage, and a little pep talk you unlocked the door and felt the warm air rush upon you. you quickly turned to the rack and took off your scarf and long trench coat, fixing the material so you could avoid the cheers and greetings from your friends behind you. you wiped your hands on your jeans smiling and waving at everyone.Â
ây/n! you made it!â your friend spoke as she rushed over and almost tumbled you to the ground. âyes iâm here, finally out for the break,â you let out hugging her tight as you still avoided the other faces. you looked around and saw everyone, your heart beating quicker as you locked eyes with familiar brown ones. the ones that taunted your dreams and in real life.Â
the unwanted memories of when you were together, the first night at the bar where heâd seen you after so long, the sneaking around to avoid getting caught but added a thrill, the late-night kisses mixed with ice cream, going to his home to see his family, and that night he cut things off, leaving you speechless and thinking you were the reason for it. your chest tightened at the familiar memories, blinking away the tears and thoughts of the things that once happened.Â
met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool. and make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos. ask you easy questions about work and school.
you looked away rapidly, but jude's gaze followed you to where you were now seated on the couch, unable to look away. despite it being only three months, you looked so pretty and beautiful to him, your hair slightly longer than last time, still his y/n. your brother's little sister that he grew up along with. the one he teased and made fun of till he realized that was no longer the case. maturing was realizing that all along it was you that brought out the best in him.Â
you spoke quietly among with the girls, discussing future plans for the new year, going shopping, to dinner, maybe travel somewhere, and go clubbing to find you a man, your friends words not yours, to which jude clenched his jaw tight. he didn't care if it was only three months, it still bothered him to hear you speak of any man that wasn't him.Â
jude kept eavesdropping at your conversation with everyone, even though he was playing video games with your brother. âwe're so glad you are here! We missed you so much it felt like ages the last time we saw you, since you're either busy with school or alone in your room,â your friend said which made you giggle nervously and play with your charm bracelet.Â
jude kept quiet but kept sideyeing to see your every move. he knew you didn't feel comfortable, and slightly anxious at the amount of people surrounding you that kept asking you questions. if you were together still, he would have pulled you away from everyone making an excuse to be alone. but that wasn't the case anymore and here he was listening to your quiet and shy voice. âwe just ordered pizza and wings. will you be joining us?â ask your friend.Â
âuhm not tonight. i have plans made already with a uni lad, to go out for celebratory drinks, and i promised him i would go,â you said making your friend let out a small protest, but then gasp. âis he the guy you were telling me about? tall and wavy hair? the finance student?â your other friend asked in a small whisper, to which you nodded slowly and looked away embarrassed.Â
jude smiled painfully, leaning back onto the couch, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, then biting the inside of his lip. he was having a hard time controlling his facial expressions, eyes digging holes into you, anger and jealousy washed upon him, fighting the urge to call you out. although he had no right to talk as he knew he had done the same and hung out with other girls. yet jude still felt hurt, sick to his stomach picturing a different man in your life, the urge to scream, to punch a wall, or maybe himself to knock sense into him.Â
i'm trying to be cool about it. feelin' like an absolute fool about it. wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it. tellin' myself i can always do without it. knowin' that it probably isn't true.Â
you had to lie on the spot, having to accept jaxâs invite for drinks. you could no longer stand looking or being in the same room as him. having to feel his eyes on you every minute that passed by. you felt like crying, it was still fairly new to you, but you couldn't even tell your friends because they didn't know about you or jude. You thought you were safe, that you could've handled it, but your body was continuing to process the break up, to hear and see about the girls he hung out with, that looked nothing like you.Â
you tried to forget, to forget him for the sake of your brother and friend group. however seeing him thrive in another country surrounded by the support you craved angered you. you knew part of the breakup was your fault, for failing to communicate, to be there for him. but what about those times you needed him and he wasn't there? even from the start the signs were there, you just let yourself get involved to finally be happy, to have him, to love him.Â
but i'm trying to forget about it. feelin' like i'm breaking a sweat about it. wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it. tellin' myself one day i'll forget about it. knowin' that it probably isn't true.Â
after grabbing a quick drink from the kitchen you walked upstairs to your room, quickly glancing at jude who had a foul scowl on his face, cold eyes, and grim mouth. you debated whether you should go or stay here. your thumb hesitated to text jax and let him know you were going. yet again your body was speaking and letting you know it wouldn't be a good idea.Â
you felt so out of place and not yourself, the shock of seeing jude still running through your head. you took a seat on the small bench at the end of your bed, head in your hands as you tried to control your breathing and tears that wanted to release. you let out a small gasp at a knock at your door, standing up and wipe away the one tear that let out, being faced with the man you wanted to avoid.Â
ây/nâŠâ jude's voice was gentle and soft as he said your name, closing the door and locking it. you ignored him, your hands rubbing your arms as you felt locked in. the world went quiet when he was with you, just the two of you longing for each other. ây/n look at me babyâŠâ his voice rasped out as he walked close to you, but you walked back to create a distance. you painfully laugh and glance up, the lights suddenly dim. âyou shouldn't be here, collin can walk in at any minute,â you remark.Â
and now i have to act like i can't read your mind. i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie. but we don't have to talk about it.Â
âi donât care. let him walk in.âÂ
âjude-â
âi wanna talk, please? i know this feels strange, trust me i feel the same, but it's what we need,â jude says in a relaxed manner, making you mad at the audacity he had to demand things. âno it's what you need. trust me i'm fine, more than okay at where we currently stand,â you say smiling angrily. jude cocked his head to the side, becoming slightly agitated. âreally? you wanna do this? i'm not okay where we stand, if anything i want to fix this, us, for the sake of our friends,â he spits out.Â
âyou want to come in here, and âtryâ to fix things for our friends?â you quote with your fingers and scoff, âthat's the only thing that ever mattered to you! what everyone thinks, your friends, family, your fans, it's all you care about,â you said loudly, running a hand along your forehead and massaging your temples feeling your headache come back.Â
âseriously, you wanna bring that up right now?â he looked away laughing, before bringing his attention back to you. you rolled your eyes at his attitude, shaking your head and playing with your charm bracelet once again. this was another reason probably, the constant arguments that you had together that made it not work. âyou wanted to talk, so yeah i did bring that up.â
âfine let's talk about jack? or was it jax? the finance student you're going out with tonight? how do you want me to be cool about it? how would your brother feel if i told him?â jude crossed his arms, waiting for you to answer as a few moments of silence passed by. âyou're being unreasonable. what does that have to do with our friends?â you asked with a face plastered with confusion.
âfor starters, he's going to be around us if you date him,â your eyes widened at his words lips pursing open but continued to listen to him. âi think collin would love to know about this as well. and i wanna know who he is. who is this jax?â jude asked carefully furrowing his brows in a questioning manner, but it made you clench your jaw and swallow the hurtful words that wanted to be spilled.Â
i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning. tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing. even though we know it isn't true.Â
âyou have no right to ask me anything anymore? you broke up with me remember?â you pointed at yourself as you walked closer to him. âi get what i did wasnât what you expected but do you really want me to sit here and tell you it doesnât hurt to see you hook up with different girls? itâs a date jude. a date.âÂ
you grabbed your jacket and sighed in disbelief. you wanted to leave as soon as possible, you loved your friends but right now you wanted to be far from jude. even three months after breaking up, it felt freshly new to see him again. it ripped open the old scars and you werenât used to it. before you could leave, jude stopped you by the door.Â
âitâs not fair. i used to beg to get your attention, for you to talk to me! all i asked was to talk! a minute out your day, to tell me how you felt to hear your voice! you think it doesnât hurt me? to see you move on? to hear from our friends, not from you, OUR friends, that youâre going on a date?â jude spit out with fury, and now you were becoming afraid that your friends downstairs would hear you guys. especially collin.Â
âwe didnât work jude! you said so yourself that night. you didnât give me a chance for me to explain myself! you thought of you and only you! iâm sorry i couldnât give you what you wanted, i tried i did! but you were never there!â you said loudly, the bubble in your throat increasing by the second.Â
âyou never gave me the chance. you always had the mindset my brother would find out about us, and thatâs the only thing that mattered to you! we couldnât go out, and when we tried it was always an excuse for each of us. we werenât meant to be,â you said without of breath, your heart now beating faster.Â
âso now itâs my fault?â jude scoffed in disbelief, and threw his hands in the air desperately.Â
âyouâre being ridiculous,â you threw your head back in annoyance, âi'm trying to tell you how i feel about it all. it's what you're asking right? for me to be open with you even though it's too late? we both know jude, i donât know why you keep wasting your time with me. like you said that night, to you i will always be collinâs little sister,â you say, your voice breaking. jude felt like he would break, to see you crying again, he wanted to take it all back, that night back, and fight for you harder.Â
ây/n-â
âyouâll never understand whatâs its like. to not be able to have your voice heard? to be that child thatâs just there? to have so many people come over but greet you because they feel forced to. is that why you dated me, because you felt sorry for me?â you asked, jude immediately shaking his head.Â
a knock came from the door, you and jude quickly glanced at each other worried, âiâm sorry to disturb, but collin came back from outside and heâs asking for you jude,â your friend said with a low voice, giving you a small smile reassuring you she wouldn't say anything about what she heard. âdonât worry, we were just finished, heâs all yours jude,â you said sarcastically, then walked down the stairs as jude chased you after you.Â
there was still so much to be said, and he didn't want you to leave thinking he was only with you because of that. it wasnât true, he was with you because he loved you. not because you were his little sister or because he felt sorry for you, but because for once in his life he finally found someone who brought more happiness to him than anyone else could.Â
âmaybe it's for the best,â your friend spoke quietly to him, patting a hand on his shoulder. jude watched you walk out again from his life, this time you weren't standing alone, but instead with a man who could probably give you all you deserved. although he still refused to lay on these terms, no matter who you were with, a part of you will always be linked to him.Â
âjude hurry up man! the game is starting soon!,â he was forced out of his thoughts, sending a false smile to your oblivious brother. collin had no idea of the two of you, and never suspected anything which made judeâs guilt rise even more. even after repeatedly saying you were off limits, something about you couldn't keep jude away. he knew it was wrong, to fall for his best mate's sister, but why did it feel so right? like you were the person destined to meet jude?
you wouldnât even give jax a chance even if he was the last man on earth. despite being the perfect match for you, something inside you always loved jude. you had two boyfriends before jude, and the each taught you something. at the early stages with jude, it felt careless, two rebel teens chasing for love. but you wanted security, and you struggled to communicate that, pushing him away because you could never fully speak it or let it be known.Â
the so-called date went fine, but your mind kept tracing back to seeing jude after three months, him in your room, his tearful eyes watching you leave to be here with jax. it pained you to see him hurt again because of you again. you also knew it wasn't right to lead jax on, to be here so you could escape the curly-headed man that was probably still at your home.Â
jax did understand though, a man can always sense when a woman isn't interested, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or forced. after a long shared night filled with laughter and deep talks, he kissed your cheek and wished you the best of luck. âIf you need anything, please dont hesitate to reach out, okay?â he gave you knowing eyes, making you laugh an nod.Â
âthank you once again! be safe! and let me know when you are home!â you waved him goodbye and unlocked the door to your home for the second time that evening. it was around eleven pm, the cars that once filled your driveway were gone. you sighed comfortably at the house being silent, thankful the living room was cleaned, and the kitchen besides the dishes.Â
you still weren't sleepy, as you were used to being up at this time to review material for your classes. you quickly washed them, and also dried a set of laundry to be fixed in the morning. you went upstairs and took a quick shower with hot water to soothe the aching muscles and headache. after changing into a silk camisole, you get startled by the doorbell. You tuck yourself into the covers like a little kid, reaching for your phone as it buzzed.Â
open the door for me. i'm outside.Â
you let out a deep breath, quickly slipping downstairs and opening the door letting jude in who was now wearing a full black nike tracksuit. your eyes stared into his intently, feeling your pulse race just by looking at his handsome features. âyouâre back again?â you asked quietly walking back upstairs, jude following behind.Â
âwe didnât get to finish talking. i didn't want to go back to spain the way were,â he replied closing the door and walked over to where you were sat, on the small bench by your bed. you stared at the ground, as jude rubbed his hand on your thigh in a comfort manner. he let out a deep sigh that made you lean your head on his shoulder. Â
âit wasnât true. i didnât date you because i felt sorry for you. i fell over heels for the woman who once in my life loved me for who i was, and gave me the chance to be who i am without caring. i know it seemed like i cared about others, but all i wanted was to protect you from the harm they could do to us. but in the end it was us who caused it,â jude joked which made you let out a stifled small laugh.Â
âi'm sorry y/n. for what i said to you that night and those past times. if i could take it all back i would. you didn't deserve that, and it hurts me because i'm the reason for it, â jude said painfully, he struggled to find the words. you pulled back from his shoulder, walking around to sit yourself on his lap, to wipe the tear that escaped his pretty brown eyes. he had been crying before coming here, his eyes sunken and bloodshot red. âdonât cry judeâŠâ
âdo you still love me?â he asked unsurely, biting his lip. he looked up almost taking your silence as a painful answer, but was rewarded with you nodding. âso so much, i canât not stop loving you and its scary because we both live different worlds. those times where you just wanted a small answer and i couldn't give it to you? i'm sorry for making you feel like that, for not making you feel wanted, i thought⊠i thoughtâŠâ you sniffled and broke into a small sob, tears coming down your cold cheeks.Â
âhey, hey, hey, shh baby it's okay⊠just take deep breaths⊠it's just me and you okay?â jude gabbed your hands and kissed them gently, âdon't blame just yourself, we both faulted our breakup, it wasn't meant to be then, but now that we learned from that we can avoid it,â he said with a small sad smile.Â
âwhen you left again, everything felt unexplored and out of place. i sat by my window and lingered for you to come back, like those times you snuck in here⊠i took lengthier ways to school to avoid the areas we once walked by. i even ate those stupid gummy worms you love so much,â you said sniffling and laughing. âi canât do that anymore, because i want you back jude. every second that passed by without you, it hurt me. it still does knowing it feels like were strangers again.â
jude's eyes went wild at your admission, âi get that part of it was because i couldn't communicate, and i'm working on that. you just have to trust me and give me some time, it all felt so rushed and sudden, and i thought you cared about them and not me at times,â you finally said after waiting almost a year to say.Â
âi will always care about you. when i left that night i knew i made a mistake. i felt like an idiot because i know you struggled at times to say what you wanted. and i know i only thought of me but i promise it isnt going to be like that anymore, baby. as long as we can work and talk it out, that's what matters most to us right?â you nodded to his question.Â
âno more caring about what they think. as long as were both happy and in love, it will keep me sane. that day will come, but when times right,â jude continued referring to telling your friends and brother. âi hope you know i don't regret a single thing of it, for falling in love with you despite you being my best friend's sister,â he smirked. âgood because at the end of the day, knowing its forbidden, it feels right being with you like this. here alone where it's just usâŠâ you say shyly.Â
âmy shy girl still hasn't changed has she? still so shy that she can't even look at me properly when iâm trying to admire her beauty,â jude teased you which made you shake your head. âalthough she wasn't so shy when she left for jack? or was it jax?â jude frowned. âheâs nothing, just an excuse for me to not see youâŠâ you smiled evilly as you confessed.Â
âso nothingâs going on with you and jack? or jax was it?â he asked teasingly, making you smack his shoulder playfully. âno now stop i before it does become something serious,â you warn him to which he gives you a taken-at-back look. ânot while youâre still mine baby⊠always have been and always will be. let jack or jax know that, â jude said seriously, kissing your jawline.Â
you sunk into his warm embrace, feeling at home and safe in his arms. âwho wouldâve thought iâd be with my brother's best friend huh?â you say feeling his warm soft lips trace from your jaw to your lips. âdefinitely not me,â jude said shaking his head no, paying attention to the small shiver you released as he kissed your pulse. you had to hold back the small moan that wanted to release at his next words and movements.Â
âkiss me y/n. exactly how you want and need.âÂ
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham fanfic#football fanfic#footballer#football x reader#football imagine#football one shot
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(Some of) My Favorite Scott/Jean Kisses
X-Men #98
I like the way Claremont initially establishes their relationship - Jean's flirtiness, Scott's hesitance. This isn't their first on-panel kiss, but it is one of the early ones, and I think it's really sweet. I love how Scott and Jean have changed as people in-universe and I love how they've changed as characters over the decades.
X-Men #132
I'm including this one mostly because two of the other kisses will reference it. Which isn't to say that I don't like it, because obviously I do, but I have nothing new to say about it. It's like THE Scott/Jean kiss.
X-Men #137
I think this kiss tends to get overshadowed by other parts of 137, which is fair, but there's something so tragic about the last kiss -- especially considering that Jean is possibly already planning for this to be their last kiss.
X-Factor #26
I was debating between the one in X-Factor #25 and this one, but the paneling here is unmatched. The 3 beats of the panels of her initiating, her explaining, and then him initiating is so good, especially with how expressive Simonson's body language is. And then that long pan out, so you just get the whole page really lingering in this moment.
X-Factor #53
I'm cheating and putting two kisses from this issue because I just love the range of Scott/Jean we get in this issue. The first one is so playful and fun, reminiscent of the kiss in X-Men #98, except Scott is no longer hesitant. And then the passion and romance of Jean "sweeping him off his feet," soundtracked with "As Time Goes By." And then Jean immediately getting caught in remembering the kiss in Arizona from X-Men 132 and Scott deciding that this playful and romantic evening is a wonderful time to propose, which Jean declines because she feels like she's being pushed into it. This issue is so good for the range, and these two kisses (plus the flashback one) really capture the complicated emotional journey of these two.
The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix #2
Nothing says romance like your son being totally exasperated by how often the two of you make out. The joys of parenthood. :)
Phoenix Resurrection: The Return of Jean Grey #5
The "stolen moment" quality of this kiss is so good. Scott is only alive so very briefly here, but they're both real and alive together for the first time in years (both in universe and in real world time). Like the 137 kiss, Jean may have some knowledge about the brief nature of the time they have left, but I think in this one, they're more on the same page -- Scott knows that he will have to die.
X-Men: Hellfire Gala (2022)
I like when they have sex!! I like when writers don't assume Jean is a virginal prude when she's been forward about her desires since at least X-Men #98. I also like when they have sex after planning how best to help the future of mutantkind together. This set-up deliberately invokes the 132 kiss, so it's especially noticeable how different the circumstances are and how much has changed for Scott and Jean since then.
Thank you for looking at these panels of Scott and Jean kissing, feel free to tell me what your favorite Scott/Jean kisses are.
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Aftermath
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader
18+ only read at your own risk
Summary: Natasha comes to apologize after she unknowingly hurt your feelings.
AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Wrote something short(ish), inspired by several anons as a sequel to this ask.
âYou want to come over to my place later?â Natasha whispers in your ear.
âNo, not really.â You lean over the railing of the balcony, watching as your recruits tackle the muddy obstacle course in groups of five. âFitz, Hunter, donât leave your teammate behind like that!â you shout, noticing two bigger male recruits trying to continue on while their smaller female teammate struggles to scale the rock wall on her own.Â
âYes, Sergeant!â they yell back, meekly turning around and offering their hands to the female.
âWhy not?â Natasha sounds shocked you would refuse an offer to be in bed with her. But you still havenât forgotten her comments at the dinner party.
âI have to catch up on some stuff,â you lie.
Natasha frowns, but she doesnât push the issue.
***********************************************************************
Youâre eating a limp sandwich from the chow hall with some of your colleagues, completely tuned out of the conversation. Natasha walks by with her own tray, tempted to sit next to you, but remembering how distanced you felt from her.Â
You notice her, but make no acknowledgement of her.
âMaximoff told me he wants to apply to be a sergeant,â Sam Wilson sitting next to you says. âHe was asking what you studied to pass your test.â
âWell, if someone like me can pass, then he shouldnât have to study at all,â you respond, just loud enough for Natasha to hear.Â
Her face turns as red as her hair and she hurriedly turns and walks away.
***********************************************************************
You walk out of your bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your waist, water still dripping down your chest and back from your wet hair. You startle when you see Natasha sitting on your bed, completely forgetting that she had access to your room.
âHi,â she says in a small voice.
âWhy are you here?â you dismiss, walking past her to your closet.
âYouâre mad at me,â she says.
âIâm notâŠmadâŠâ you respond not very convincingly. You grab a clean shirt, turning back to face Natasha and notice that her eyes are trailing down your torso, over the muscles of your chest and stomach where your dog tags hang, and the V-line of your hips that narrow past the towel. âUm, Sergeant?â you ask.
âIâm not your sergeant right now,â Natasha says, and this is the first time youâve heard her say that. She gets up and steps towards you, gently taking the shirt out of your hands. You stare at her, a little confused. Your relationship with her was complicated to say the least. There were no official boundaries or titles, yet you knew this woman was the only one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. But the nature of your job, especially with the power dynamic, made it almost impossible for you two to make any sort of public announcement.
âI just want to be your Nat right now.â
âMy Nat?â you repeat, as if you didnât hear her correctly. She nods, undoing the towel from your waist and letting it fall to the floor. You feel yourself harden under her gaze alone, a little embarrassed how quickly she turns you on. She takes your hand and leads you to your bed, lying down and guiding you on top of her. âAre you sure you donât want toââ you start, but Natasha quiets you with a kiss, unbuttoning her jeans and kicking them off.Â
âI want you right here,â she says, brushing her hands down your sides before grabbing the hem of her shirt and removing it.Â
âI lied. I was a little mad at you,â you confess in a jumble as Natasha holds onto your hips and pulls you down so your cock rubs against her stomach.Â
âYou had every right to be.â
You look down and see your pre-cum shining along her abs, your cock throbbing harder at the idea of slipping inside of her and pumping her full of your cum.Â
âCan IâŠâ you start to pant, your fantasies getting the best of you.
âOf course.âÂ
For once, Natasha is not particularly dominant with you, lying back and letting you do what you want. Your hands circle her smaller waist, pinning her down to the bed as you line up your cock with her dripping center and slowly push in, moaning at the warmth that surrounds you.Â
âF-Fuck, Sergeant,â you say, and Natasha corrects you with a click of her tongue. âIâŠI mean, Nat. You feel so fucking good.â
Your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they pump forward and backward, filling Natasha to the hilt and pulling out until you can see your tip gleaming with your combined fluids.Â
âKeep going, Y/N. Just like that,â Natasha guides, pushing her head back into the pillows as you thrust into her. She holds onto your biceps, tracing the line of a scar on your left one from a knife fight back on one of your first assignments.
You grunt as you start to pick up the pace, slamming into harder and her body shakes as your thighs meet hers. Itâs almost like sliding through wet silk; thereâs no resistance and only a delicious warmth that makes your head spin.Â
âDonât stop, donât stop,â Natasha moans and you feel her walls tighten around your cock, causing you to increase your strength to fill her deeply.Â
âDo you want me to pull out?â you gasp, slowing just enough to wait for an answer.
âCum inside of me,â she says, locking her ankles around your lower back so you couldnât pull out even if you wanted to.Â
You thrust in one final time, feeling yourself lose control and pumping your cum into her hard and fast. You feel light-headed as you lay down softly on her, putting your head on her chest and letting her stroke your hair until you fall asleep. Â
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Safe to say theyâre made up? đ€
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. đ„°
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#sergeant beef au#natasha romanoff x reader
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Shadow (Logan Howlett x reader)
Synopsis: He was supposed to love her...Not you....
So I've decided to come back and I'm doing better than ever. I have also decided to no longer limit myself to just one character I love Adrian Chase but I'm gonna write what makes me happy. Send requests for Wolverine if you'd like!!!
Logan Howlett Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of sex, kissing, angst, fluff,scenting
Jean Grey...
The very name was more pretty than yours. She was everything you weren't.
You could never be her.
That's why you understood why Logan loved her. You craved that same gazing look he gave her. The way his eyes seemed to grow almost soft when he would stare at her.
The crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he would smile at her.
You could never be Jean Grey. Especially considering the fact that Logan couldn't even spare you a glance half the time.
You were a background person. A wallflower. Even before you developed your mutation, you had always just been average.
Ironically enough your mutation allowed you to control the vines and flowers.
You built a garden for the students to play in. It was your pride and Charles loved it. It's where you spent most your time, tending to it.
Jean loved books while you loved the mud.
It was another boring blissful day. Nothing new. Nothing exciting. Another mission for the team. You went on them anytime you could. Your florals allowed you to heal wounds.
You always went as support. The only person never really needing it being Logan. Nothing you did ever really benefitted him it seemed.
Jumping a bit, you looked to your side seeing Logan. His eyes staring ahead. Jean and Scott had just gotten together making it known to everyone.
Logan hadn't seemed to care but you could see the longing in his eyes. How he wished it was him
Jean was leaning against. Him that she was kissing gently as she caressed his chest.
Not that you knew, but you were wrong.
Logan stared in longing, but not for Jean. He stared for the craving of being loved.
As you fiddled with your thumbs, he stared down at you. Wishing it could be you holding his arm. Kissing his cheek as he grumbled.
Logan knew he was a unworthy man, but he'd kill for the very touch of your lips against his cheek. For the idea that maybe you could love him in the way Jean loved Scott.
Anytime you believed he was staring at Jean, he hadn't been looking at her. He was looking at the you.
He was only looking at her wishing it would be you staring at him the way she stared at Scott.
Jean and him had a complicated relationship, but the way he felt for you surpassed anything he ever believed he felt for Jean.
You lit the room up.
He never even really liked flowers till he met you.
"Doll what's goin on in that mind of yours?" His smooth voice sounded out as he whispered in your ear.
You jumped in surprise hearing his voice. "Oh nothing. I was just thinking about what new flowers I wanna add to the garden back at the manor."
Logan chuckled a bit. "Always thinkin about flowers huh? What kind were you thinking though?" He smirked lightly at you.
"Bleeding hearts." You grinned at him bashfully. It was hard not to feel anything when he would smile at you.
"Those sure are beautiful." He huffed a bit.
"You know what those are?" You teased a bit laughing as he glared at you.
"Course I do. I'm not an idiot all the time." Logan grumbled a bit puffing his cigar.
"I never said you were." You quickly reassured him. "Just not many people know plants."
"I learned for you." He whispered out.
Your smiled dropped as you looked at him in slight shock. That was unexpected.
"Did you really?" You whispered out now. Logan smirked at you ruffling your hair.
"So bleeding hearts for the garden?" He asked again changing the subject.
"Yeah..bleeding hearts." You repeated still staring at him dazed.
The mission went smoothly as usual. Logan always made sure any mission he went on for you did. He never wanted you overworked.
Jean smiled as you tended to her minor wounds. "Thank you." She smiled as you worked.
"You don't gotta thank me. I'm just happy I could be of some use." You chuckled a bit.
Jean shook her head, "You shouldn't do that. Don't talk down on your self like that."
"I can't help it." You tried to joke. Jean shook her head again.
"You should ask him out." She spoke up. You looked at her in shock.
"Who?" You tried to play it off. Jean couldn't afford to know. He was once someone she saw romantically.
"You know who. He's staring at us right now." She smiled. You turned your head finding Logan.
"He's staring at you. He always does." You sighed out. Jean shook her head.
"You're wrong. He's staring at you. I know. I could tell. Trust me..I don't hold a candle to how he looks at you." She smiled walking away.
Rolling your eyes, you began to pack your things. How could she know what Logan truly wanted?
You knew she could read minds but she would never pry in his. At least you hoped she wouldn't.
Once home, you were the first off the quinjet not noticing how Logan's eyes followed you.
Quickly you ran to the garden smiling as you saw it intact beautifully.
You used your mutation to brighten the flowers making a vine above hanging the bleeding hearts.
"Here I thought you'd race to get some rest after a mission. Should've known you'd be out here." Logan's voice sounded out.
You turned to face him smiling.
"Couldn't help it. Been thinking about this the entire fly back."
Logan approached gently touching the flowers. "They sure are beautiful..."
"Thank you.." You whispered in response. Logan stared in amazement at you not looking away as you met his gaze.
It felt impossible. How was he staring at you this way?
You weren't Jean.
That's why he was looking at you though. You weren't Jean. You were you.
Logan was always a man of action. Not words. He leaned in giving you the opportunity to move. T
o push him and ask what he was doing. He didn't even know what he was doing , but he wanted to kiss you.
God did he want to kiss you.
His lips brushed against yours.
A small breath left you as he shut his eyes. Your hands moved up his shoulders whining as he pressed himself against you.
He kissed you with everything he had.
You pulled away looking at him in shock. His hand caressed your cheek.
"God I am so selfish for asking this. I don't deserve you, but please let me have you.." He whispered kissing you again.
You panted nodding as he kissed you again. His head moving to nuzzle against your neck.
He inhaled your scent deeply growling as his hands moved your waist caressing your hips.
"Logan.." You whispered pulling back to look at him. "I'm not..I'm not used to this..do you really want me?" You asked him in shock.
"You have no idea doll. No fucking clue what I would do for you." He whispered panting.
"Logan.." You whimpered his name as he caressed your head.
"I'm right here. I want you..so let me have you.." He spoke in a slight desperate growl.
"I thought you wanted her.." You spoke softly. Logan shook his head.
"Don't say stupid shit. All I want is you."
You smiled at his attitude laughing as he lifted you up carrying you away.
"Shush..we're getting food." He grumbled.
"Okay..guess I belong to you now." You teased.
"Damn straight you do." Logan huffed a laugh knowing you'd be stuck next to him forever.
Not that you'd complain though.
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Magicđ
Summary: Scott has a headache so you offer him something w/ âmagicâ to help
Content: Scott summers x Mutant!Fem Reader
Warnings: mentioning of weed infused brownies and them being consumed & a couple of swearsâŠ
A/N: I got this idea from somewhere but I canât remember whereâŠit was on here actually and I was like omg I have to write this ! Ugh I love him so muchâŠ.
You and Rogue made âbrowniesâ while everyone was gone earlier. Gambit also tried to help but kept messing up so Rogue kicked him out however, he was invited to try a piece still when they were done. It was you threeâs secret even though Xavier himself literally already knew, he just didnât say anything. As long as you guys were responsible he supposed.
But it was others you worried about. Like Wolverine who probably would huff them up in minutes or Beast whoâd lecture you for hours about the negative effects. OrâŠScott.
The leader made it clear he was a by the book guy. Neat, serious, a rule follower âŠ.whatever. Point was, he didnât play games. So recreational usage ? Yeah, no. Nope.
You hide the rest in the oven since no one really cooked in there anyways and went back outside. Rogue and Gambit went off somewhere and you wanted to enjoy some outdoor air while these brownies kick in. You spent alot of time out there especially as a result of your mutation. Your powers allowed you to control all things nature. You could move water at will, control wind (but not as good as storm can), grow plants quickly and more. You loved all things nature related especially things you can use in your day to day life like herbal medicines. Or growing tea leaves to drink or even coffee beans.
You were also really into growing weed.
You knew not to get too high especially when important missions were coming up or when you knew a meeting would take place later on so only during your guaranteed free time did you try anything. Rogue caught you once but was really chill about it so now sometimes she gets high with you. But no one else. It was risky doing it but it really helped calm your nerves. Plus, Logan smoked and drank all day long so was it really that bad?
Once outside though, you see your beloved leader sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. Heâs muttering something odd. Concerned, you go over to him. Maybe itâs because of the edible that he seems this way? Heâs mumbling gibberish. His energy is off. Really off. You just hope that he canât see how thereâs a tint of red in your eyes.
âHeyâŠScott? Youuuu okay?â you ask. You lift a hand to touch him but he suddenly looks up at you a bit, startled like he didnât hear you approaching, which caused you to bring your hand back quickly.
âMâfine.â He says, almost in a groan. He puts his head back down and asks, âDid you need anything?â
âNo..justâŠchecking in on you?â You donât know why it came out as a question.
He says nothing.
Itâs awkward for a second or two as you just stand there. It hits you that this may be one of his headache episodes Jean told you about. You felt bad for him. You wanted to stay but you get the feeling he wants you to fuck off.
He just groans again, probably in annoyance that youâre still here. It was very unlike him to act like this. This is the first time youâve seen him in such a pained, awkward state.
It hurt even more because he was secretly your..crush? You guess thatâs the best way to describe it. It wasnât crazy. Maybe you just admired him a lot as a strong leader. Maybe it was his good looksâŠ. maybe. You just really hoped it was a phase. It didnât help him and Jean have a complicated relationship thing going on that he seemed more attentive to rather than looking for someone new to replace her.
You get an idea. It may be crazy but you didnât know what else to do. Plus, you were a bit high so your decision making was a bit wonky. You rush inside the mansion and b line to the oven. You grab half a brownie and a bottle of water from the fridge. As you walk back outside you see Scottâs hands caught in his hair. It definitely seems like heâs getting worse. You hoped he accept this and not scold you and kick you off the freaking team or something.
âHeyâŠum, I brought you somethingâŠâ You say, sitting next to him.
He lifts his head again and looks in your hands. âWater andâŠ.a brownieâŠ?â
He says it low, like he almost was thinking out loud. Heâs clearly confused.
âIt..um..it has something in it that I think will help youâŠâ
His hands are in his lap now and heâs just staring at you. His gaze feels strong for some reason even though he has the visor on.
He looks back in your hand and gently takes the brownie from you. You watch him slowly take a bite of the brownie, almost like heâs skeptical.. or maybe he is.
âItâs good, but how will this help?â Scott looks back at the ground as he finished the brownie. You almost feel guilty. You play with the bottle in your hand nervously as you think on whether you want to tell him or not. Youâre scared of the possibility of him lashing out that you just secretly fed him cannabis.
Itâs a couple of seconds before you answer. âTheyâre justtt, special.â
âSpecial how?â
âThereâs something inside that will help you relaxâŠ.â
Silence.
ââŠ.But, how?â
The question come out a bit sharp, you assume he wants a straight answer but also wonder how he canât get the hint or has no idea seemingly. You canât blame him though, why would he suspect a team member to be in possession of weed?
You sigh as you prepare for the worst.
âThey have⊠weed inside.â
Scott slowly turns his head at you. Heâs smiling weird. You accidentally clench the water bottle and out the corner of your eye you see some plants move around you two.
ââŠ..What.â
You just stare nervously at his blank smile. You canât ever really read him or his expressions sometimes but heâs definitely annoyed. Probably mad. Hopefully not furious. Definitely not happy.
It spills out of you. âIïżœïżœïżœmâŠIâm so sorry! I just wanted to help you and I know you hate weed and drugs and all that stuff but you looked like you were in so much pain and I just wanted to help and I know I might get kicked off the team but-â
âHey.â
You stop. You feel a tear slipping from your eye.
âItâs okay.â
Your mouth drops. âW-what?â
âItâs fine. Itâs not posion.â
Youâre still frozen as Scott grabs the bottle. HeâsâŠokay? Maybe you had too much of the brownies earlierâŠ.
âYouâreâŠokay..? But, you hate weed! You said you-â
âI know.â He takes a weirdly large gulp of water. âBut you had good intentions. So itâs fine.â
Youâre still in shock from his nonchalance. Maybe heâs gonna yell later. Maybe he didnât really understand that you just gave him a drug that heâs made so clear in the past that he hates.
He finished the water bottle quickly and just lazily throws it behind him. Okay, this may not be Scott. This might be Mystique. Or youâre hallucinating.
âAre you sure youâre okay? Or even, ScottâŠ?â
He laughs at this but quickly winces. âYes, Iâm Scott. Itâs just my head is making it hard to care about much right now.â
âSoooo, Iâm not in trouble?â
âProfessor knows about your sneaky behaviors already, y/n. Did you forget he can read minds? See through walls?â Shit.
You look down sighing. âNothing gets past him. Seriously.â
âNope.â Scott leans back on his hands. âBut since heâs okay with it, so am I. Plus, Rogue told me last week.â
âUghhhhh!â Embarrassed you put your head in your hands. Or course, Xavier & Scott knew. How could you be so dumb?
âSo, when do these kick in? Sure could use it right nowâŠ.â Scott looks at you smiling again. Heâs amused at your embarrassment.
âIt takes awhileâŠmaybe another 40 minutesâŠ?â You say looking away. You canât look him in the eyes or, well, eye right now.
He laughs again. He believes itâs a placebo thatâs making it seem like his headache is fading already because normally he wouldnât be able to even move right now.
âYâknowâŠyouâre kinda cute flustered..â
He says it so quiet you almost donât hear it. Shocked you look back at him.
âWhat? Cute?â
He just nods and goes back to looking ahead at the garden in front of you two. Still shocked you just stare at him for a bit and then look at your feet. Your heart is beating quicker now and okay, why is your face heating up? Youâre starting to think this is more than just a crush at this point. Not when everything he does make you feel like this.
You two sit and enjoy the sunset in silence as Scott noticeably relaxes more and more. It was only about 3mg so he shouldnât be too affected. Just enough. Heâs slouched on the bench now, itâs honestly a very rare sight to see him slouchedâŠwell, anywhere. Heâs smiling at nothing again. You look at him as you literally watch him enjoy his first high. His red visor of course hides his eyes but you imagine theyâre red now like yours. Deep down youâre just glad you could help him and his pain ease. And youâre a lot happy that youâre not getting expelled from the school.
Flowers grow at your feet as you just stare at him, heart fluttering. The soft warm light shined on his blissed out face, making him glow beautifully. You notice his relaxed strong arms and his soft pink lips and now tinted pink cheeks. He turns his head slowly to you like earlier except more relaxed. His dorky smile in full view now makes your heart skip a beat and you face heats up more. The flowers grow taller and thereâs a slight breeze.
âYâknowwww? Youâre reallyyyy prettyâŠand kindâŠ.i like you, y/nâŠâ He says it slow with that same smile.
You struggle to respond with anything more than, âThanks, ScottâŠâ because oh my god?!? Holy shit?? Scott Summers just said he thinks youâre pretty. This evening couldnât get anymore magical.
You spent the rest of the evening watching the sunset with him as he laid a head on your shoulder. High Scott was quiet but definitely more laid back and more open. You enjoyed it a lot. And when it got fully dark you helped guide him back inside just to sit on the couch and enjoy each others company once more.
#scott summers xmen#scott summers x reader#scott summers imagines#xmen#xmen scott#scott summers#cyclops x men#cyclops#cyclops imagine#x men cyclops#i love him#I need to be his wife
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Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style âĄâĄâĄ could you do an established relationship fiction with Ghost? Y/n is sort of asexual, so sometimes even if she's not in the mood herself, she just likes to watch Simon get himself off (maybe multiple rounds!!!)? Nsfw with lots of fluff??? âĄ
warning(s): nsfw (18+), established relationship, fluff/smut, (m.) masturbation, asexual!fem!reader
A HELPING HAND | SIMON RILEY
it's no secret that simon's relationship with intimacy is complicated.
but so is yours, and it makes for a perfect pair... sometimes. tonight was not one of those nights.
"are you alright?" you ask, glancing up from the book in your hands.
he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and he won't. sit. down. it's starting to drive you nuts. but frankly, for such a calm man to get jittery â something was up.
it was random, his sudden urge for intimacy. however, it was clear you were relaxing, in your own little world. he didn't want to soil that. it had been weeks since you two had sex â which was usually never a problem, but tonight was especially difficult for Simon to stifle.
"...'m fine," now he's rearranging the desktop, only sitting down in the desk chair briefly as a means of distraction. his pants were painfully tight by this point.
"simon... simon." you interrupt his rambles, recognizing that familiar shift he's doing in the seat. how one hand has remained on his inner thigh for several minutes. "if you want something, all you need to do is ask, you know that, right?"
the swivel chair comes to a stop when it faces you, but he's still stiff in his posture. "not that kind of favor, love." he says, looking awfully meek for someone with such conviction any other time.
you were only teasing him before. but now you really had an answer â the root of his not-so-little problem, which resided in boxers that are currently a size too small.
though you weren't feeling any urges of your own arise, there was fun to be had in watching him. it wouldn't have been the first time, either. "why don't i watch you again?"
there was no sense in being coy like he was the first time you proposed the idea. it wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. in fact, that night you found the sight quite arousing... without acting feeling aroused at that moment. besides, it made the reward for later twice as satisfying â whether it be weeks, or months before you have the desire to reciprocate again.
"you're sure about this?" his movements went still as if waiting on your permission to start palming his thigh again.
with a small smile, you tossed your book aside and let it land somewhere out of sight on the bed. still, you insisted, "deadly serious, si. it doesn't bother me."
he clicked his tongue and nodded to himself, slouching a bit in the chair to unbuckle his belt. the metal clinked as he shimmed with it, eventually setting the accessory on the desk behind him. once the jeans were loosened, you could truly see the pressure of his hardened length â begging to be sprung free.
simon shifted his hips until only his jeans were pulled down a bit. next, he peeled back the waistband of his ebony briefs, cock slumping against his tone stomach. tip ruddy and oozing pre-cum, and his stomach heaved a bit from the sensation of having his problem released from the confines of clothing.
thick, calloused hands grasped his erection, slouching forward to spit on it. the translucent string rolled down his shaft, going the pattern of the prominent veins along its sides. a truly lude image to witness; tempting, even, if you were truly in the mood.
instead, it was motivation enough for another time.
manspreading in the desk chair, he continued to work his cock. faint, wet clicks of the lubricant echoing through the bedroom. it didn't help how quiet simon naturally was. but where was the fun in this, if not putting on some sort of show for you?
he let a few noises slip, huffing through his nostrils audibly and letting out small grunts the faster you went. you lay back against the plush bed, biting back feelings of fluster that came whether aroused or not. his moans were rare and cherished â and you happened to be one of the few souls lucky enough to hear them.
you folded your arms and watched intently, gnawing on your bottom lip. not being aroused didn't mean you weren't going to ogle him, especially when all hot and bothered.
his hand moved hastily, its large size swallowing his length, covering more surface area than yours ever could. you'd catch his hips bucking in the seat while he maintained eye contact â unless they drooped shut when his fingers brushed against his sensitive slit. the same way he shuttered when you skimmed your tongue along it many times, except he had the luxury of not getting 'scolded' for it.
now he's exposed his weak points. you now knew he savored it when you teased your tongue there.
especially when he'd gotten so twitchy with his own thumb caressing. well, now you've taken note to tease him that way again, no matter the repercussions.
"need toâ fuckâ touch you," his speech skipped like a scratched CD, the strokes growing sloppier and more desirous. he was close; so fucking close.
you nod your head, watching him stand to his feet. as simon walks over, he slows his roll a bit, enough to ensure he won't spill right then and there. you remain in the same position, except for the hand you place on his waist, running your palm up and down his abdomen to give him for stimulation.
he stands beside the bed, his clean hand reaching out. his thumb brushes against your lip, giving your bottom one a slight drag â then slipping between them and running along your gums, allowing you to tongue along his finger like you would his cock.
the sticky, gummy texture of your mouth â like that of your entrance clenching around him. and your caress, like you always did when he hit spots deep inside. your small contributions allowed his imagination to do the rest of the heavy lifting.
you palmed his abs, maintaining eye contact to give him every bit of this otherwise touchless act. but your hand along his stomach was enough, as was playing with your mouth; enough to push him turbulently over that edge.
a string of curses poured from simon's lips, just like the globs of cum that followed quickly after. into his palm, he released his load, hips grinding against nothing until the overwhelming sensations ceased. his finger removed from your mouth with a pop, before he sped to the bathroom to wipe himself off.
a few moments later, he returned, finding you in the same position. it was quite a show, to put it lightly; not one you'll forget any time soon, either.
instead of standing like before, he knelt in front of the bed, sitting between your legs with his neck craned to look up at you. "that was alrigh' with you?" he asks again as if the 'damage' wasn't already done.
you nodded again, reassuring him once more, "of course, si. it doesn't bother me. and it's... a sight to see." you attempt a wink but look more like you're trying to get something out of your eye.
he scoffs at your attempt, taking both your hands â while simon's are icy and freshly smelling of the lavender soap in the washroom. despite your humor, it means a lot to be reassured by you. "christ, you are unbelievable, lovie. y'know tha'?" he teases, giving each of your knuckles a buss.
"i know it," you sneer, squirming slightly from the pecks. "but i still won't forget tonight. it'll keep me warm when you're away."
his brow cocks, and then comes a half-awkward chuckle. "you're a bloody tease, but i'm guessing you know that too, don't you? and a proper smart mouth."
you retort the same, having keen knowledge of how to press his fragile buttons. "what are you going to do? get the soap?"
"might have to." simon replies with faux sternness, even while speaking through a warm smile, the rough pads of his thumbs still rubbing your knuckles.
âââââ±ââ°âââââĄâââââ±ââ°ââââ
êŠê· MAIN MASTERLIST ê·êŠ GHOST MASTERLIST ââââhave a request? ËËË ASK BOX ËËË
â§âË â
* â§â divider cred. - cafekitsune ïœĄïœ„:*:
#mw2#call of duty#task force 141#simon riley#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#ghost headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#rachel speaks
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JUST FRIENDS
back to my main masterlist
pairing: fem!reader x astrid deetz
summary: you find yourself caught in a complicated relationship with astrid deetz, who is spending time with another guy named jeremy. as you navigate your feelings of jealousy and confusion, you confront astrid about her intentions, leading to an emotional struggle between love and heartbreak. despite your desire to be together, it becomes clear that the timing may not be right, leaving you to question what you truly mean to each other.
warnings: emotion turmoil, jealousy, romantic tension, potential for unrequited feelings, mentions of partying and drinking.
w/c: 2k+
a/n: pretend that jeremy isnât a ghost and he is a human boy.
the sun was setting over the horizon, casting an eerie glow across the landscape. the small town of winter river always had an air of mystery, especially when the night began to creep in. you had just returned to your apartment after a long day when you received a text from astrid deetz, your close friend and an undeniable force of chaos and charm. you and astrid had a bond that felt both thrilling and complicated; there was a spark between you, something electric that lingered in the air, but she often kept you at armâs length.
as you sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone, you couldnât help but feel a pang of anxiety mixed with excitement. astrid had mentioned hanging out with jeremy, a guy you had heard a bit about but never met. the thought of them together ignited a fire of jealousy inside you. you couldnât quite place it, but it was difficult to shake off the feeling that you might be losing her to someone else. the way she described jeremy in her texts seemed almost too enthusiastic, and you couldnât help but wonder what they were doing together.
deciding you couldnât just sit and stew in your thoughts, you pulled on a jacket and made your way out the door. the chill in the air greeted you as you stepped outside, the night sky slowly revealing a tapestry of stars. you walked down the street, your heart racing with every step. the closer you got to astridâs place, the more apprehensive you felt.
when you arrived, you hesitated outside her door, your hand poised to knock. after a moment of contemplation, you finally knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. almost immediately, the door swung open, and there she was. astrid stood in the doorway, her dark hair tousled, eyes sparkling with mischief. she wore a black tank top that hugged her figure and a pair of ripped jeans that accentuated her unique style.
âhey! you made it!â she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug.
âyeah, thought iâd check in on you. whatâs going on?â you replied, trying to sound casual even though your heart was pounding.
âjust hanging out with jeremy,â she said nonchalantly, stepping back to let you in. âyou remember him, right?â
you nodded, forcing a smile. âof course. nice guy.â the words felt hollow in your throat.
as you entered the living room, you spotted jeremy lounging on the couch, a can of soda in his hand, and an easy grin on his face. âhey, y/n! good to see you,â he said, lifting his drink in a casual salute.
âhey, jeremy,â you managed to reply, feeling an uncomfortable tension creeping in. astrid settled onto the couch beside jeremy, leaning into him as they chatted about some random topic that felt distant to you.
you tried to shake off the unease, opting for the kitchen where you poured yourself a glass of water. as you took a sip, you could hear their laughter echoing from the other room, each laugh feeling like a dagger to your heart. you couldnât deny the jealousy bubbling up inside you; it made you feel small and unimportant.
just then, jeremyâs voice drifted into the kitchen. âso, astrid, you never told me about y/n. are you two close?â
âoh, weâre super close,â astrid replied, her tone light and playful. ây/n is like the best person ever.â
âoh, really? then why are you hanging out with me?â jeremy teased, nudging her with his elbow.
you felt a strange twist in your gut at the easy camaraderie they shared. it wasnât just the jealousy that stung; it was the realization that you might be seen as just a friend when you wanted to be so much more.
âi donât know,â she responded with a playful shrug. âsometimes you need a little chaos, you know?â
you couldnât help but scoff at her words, feeling a mix of irritation and yearning. you turned to grab your phone, scrolling through it aimlessly to distract yourself.
ây/n, you alright?â astridâs voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the living room. she had a concerned look on her face, her brows knitted together.
âyeah, just thinking,â you replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.
âcome on, join us,â jeremy encouraged, gesturing to the space beside him on the couch.
you hesitated, your heart racing. the idea of sitting next to them felt unbearable, but you didnât want to seem rude. so, you took a deep breath and made your way to the couch.
as the evening wore on, you tried to engage in the conversation, but it felt like an uphill battle. every laugh that escaped astridâs lips made your stomach churn. it wasnât that you didnât want her to be happy; it was that you couldnât help but feel like an outsider in a moment that should have included you.
after a while, you decided to excuse yourself. âiâm gonna step out for some fresh air,â you said, standing up.
âwant me to come with?â astrid asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of distress.
âno, itâs fine. just need a moment,â you assured her, walking out onto the small balcony outside.
the cool night air hit your face, grounding you for a moment. you leaned against the railing, staring out into the darkness. the stars seemed to twinkle in sympathy, and you let out a sigh, feeling the weight of your emotions crashing down on you.
after a few minutes, you heard the door creak open behind you. astrid stepped out, the warmth of her presence enveloping you like a cozy blanket. âare you okay?â she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine concern.
âiâm fine,â you replied, trying to dismiss the turmoil inside you.
âyou donât look fine,â she said, crossing her arms.
âitâs just⊠i donât know. you seem happy with jeremy, and iâm happy for you, i am,â you started, your voice faltering. âit just feels different, thatâs all.â
âdifferent how?â she pressed, her gaze unwavering.
you hesitated, weighing your words carefully. âlike youâre not the same astrid when youâre with him. itâs like⊠i donât know, you seem to forget about me.â
her expression softened, and she stepped closer. âi promise thatâs not true. jeremy is just⊠different, you know? heâs fun and easy to be around.â
âand iâm not?â you shot back, your emotions spilling out.
âthatâs not what i meant! you know that,â she said, her voice rising slightly.
âthen what do you mean?â you challenged, your heart racing. âbecause it feels like youâre choosing him over me.â
the tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating. astridâs eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the world around you fading away.
âiâm not trying to choose,â she finally said, her voice low. âi just⊠i donât know what i want right now.â
that admission hit you harder than you expected. it was as if she had pulled the rug out from under you, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.
âyou donât know what you want?â you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.
âno, and it scares me,â she admitted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. âi care about you, y/n, but i donât know how to navigate this⊠whatever this is between us.â
âitâs not fair to me, astrid,â you said, feeling your voice shake. âi want to be more than just a friend. i want to be there for you, but it feels like iâm competing for your attention.
her expression shifted, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. âi never wanted you to feel that way. iâm sorry if iâve made you feel like youâre not important to me.â
âitâs not just that,â you admitted, the weight of your feelings crashing down on you. âiâve liked you for a long time, and watching you with someone else⊠it hurts.â
âwait, what?â she said, taking a step back, her eyes wide in disbelief.
âyeah,â you confessed, feeling your heart race. âi thought you knew. i thought it was obvious.â
a moment of silence stretched between you two, the realization hanging heavy in the air. astridâs gaze softened, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability in her expression.
âi didnât know you felt that way,â she whispered. âi thought you were just being a good friend.â
âi wish it was that simple,â you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. âbut itâs not.â
the tension in the air shifted, and astrid took a step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. âi never wanted to hurt you,â she said softly.
âi know,â you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. âbut itâs hard to watch you with someone else when i feel this way.â
âi need time to think,â she said finally, pulling her hand away. âbut i donât want to lose you.â
âthen donât,â you urged, desperation creeping into your voice. âdonât let this come between us.â
âi wonât,â she promised, her eyes searching yours. âi just need to figure things out.â
you nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. âokay.â
just then, jeremyâs voice called out from inside, interrupting the moment. âeverything okay out there?â
âyeah, weâre good!â astrid replied, a hint of unease in her tone.
as she turned back to face you, you could see the conflict still swirling in her eyes. âletâs go back inside,â she suggested, her voice steadying.
you followed her inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapping around you like a blanket. as you entered, you felt the weight of the unspoken tension still lingering between you.
âyou guys good?â jeremy asked, his expression casual, but you could tell he was aware of the underlying tension.
âjust talking,â astrid replied, her voice steady.
âcool, cool,â he said, taking a sip of his soda. âwhat do you want to do next?â
you exchanged glances with astrid, the unspoken words hanging in the air. you knew this was going to take time, but for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope that things could change between you and astrid.
the night went on, filled with laughter and light conversation, but you couldnât shake the feeling that something had shifted. you were no longer just a friend; you were someone who mattered, someone who could make astrid reconsider everything.
as the hours passed, you found yourself sitting next to astrid on the couch, your shoulders brushing against each other. jeremy was talking animatedly about something, but your attention was on astrid. she had a sparkle in her eyes that seemed to mirror your own emotions.
âhey,â you whispered, leaning in closer.
âyeah?â she replied, turning to face you.
âdo you think we could talk again later? just you and me?â
âiâd like that,â she said, her voice soft and sincere.
âgood,â you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.
the rest of the night passed in a blur, filled with laughter and moments of connection that made your heart race. you couldnât help but feel that a new chapter was beginning for you and astrid, one that held the promise of something deeper.
as you said your goodbyes to jeremy and made your way home, you couldnât shake the feeling that everything was about to change. the tension between you and astrid hung in the air like a delicious secret, and you were ready to embrace whatever came next.
the night sky sparkled above you as you walked, a sense of hope filling your heart. you were ready to see where this journey with astrid would take you, knowing that the connection you shared was worth exploring. and perhaps, just perhaps, you wouldnât be left wondering what could have been any longer.
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The Menu | Part 4
âsplinters in his knuckles banginâ on your doorâ
A/N: remember that meme I posted earlier about how this was supposed to just be a silly little smut fic? Yeahhh about that..đ„Ž
~word count: 6.3k~
Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel goes a little berserk after he doesnât see you for almost an entire day.
Warnings: SA (not by Joel, not described in detail) implied prostitution, abuse of power/abuse by law enforcement, (FEDRA) unhealthy trauma response, degrading language, mentions of guns, threats, injures from punching a door, mentions of blood, removing splinters, dark!joel, mean!joel, protective!joel, is shit at communicating his feelings!joel, asshole!joel, FEDRA SUCKS, no smut, denial of feelings, stalking, possession, morally gray relationship to the reader, (theyâre kinda toxic but itâs complicated) hurt feelings, angst, some fluff, age gap, (Joel is in his 40âs reader is in her late 20âs) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!
Joel Miller cracked under the pressure when almost an entire day went by without a lick of your presence. Cracking under the pressure was..a severe misjudgment. All rationale was thrown out the door; he had gone completely balls to the wall insane.
It started in the morning when you didnât show up to your âjobâ where you and Joel would spend grueling hours dumping deceased infected. Of course, everyone around him could give less of a shit about your absence. And why should they care? It was a dog eat dog world in the QZ. Every man for himself. To Joel? This was a real problem. A thorn in his side because, well, frankly? You might have meant more to him than just a vice to fill a void. Or a warm body to stick his dick in. Maybe he had reluctantly grown to care for you in his own Joel way.
So, when he found himself in line for his ration cards, his eyes zoned in on the FEDRA officer you fucked out of spite. The same one who did business at Joelâs table while Joelâs fingers fucked you to ruin. He had to start somewhere, right?
âYâgot a minute?â Joel asked casually as he shoved his ration cards into the pocket of his jeans.
âShoot.â Benjamin, better known as Benji, what the fuck kinda name is that.
âYâseen Angel around this mornin?â Sheâs usually out here with me. Didnât show up.â
âNope.â Benji responded smoothly.
Joelâs brow raised as he studied the other manâs face intently. He was looking for any clues, any indication that maybe this Benji fellow had something to do with your bizarre absence.
âRight. Well, if ya see her, tell âer Joelâs lookinâ for her.â He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets.
If Benji was good for anything, it was ratting QZ folks out. So, maybe he did know where you were. He had no viable reason to tell Joel shit. In fact, he was the main reason for your absence. Not only did he catch you out past curfew, but with a handful of contraband that could have easily gotten you a week in lockup. He showed you just a smidge of mercy simply for the fact that you offered him a blowjob just to keep your ass off the line, and only in lockup for one single day.
Joel had no business knowing that, of course.
âWell, well, well. Whadâwe have here?â Benji stepped out from the shadows of the darkly lit alleyway as a FEDRA patrol vehicle drove by.
âOne hour past curfew, Angel. Thatâs a deduction of cards, and a night in lockup.â He tsked.
Your face scrunched inwards, as if you had tasted something pungent and sour. âBenji? Fuck. Câmon, man. Just let me pass on through. Itâll be like I was never here.â You thought you were being fairly reasonable especially since he did a lot of business with Joel. You thought that maybe you could get yourself off the hook easily.
âCanât do that, Angel.â He sighed.
âMy name is not Angel. And yes, you can. Just pretend that you never saw me.â
âOh.â He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his concealed handgun. âSo, I guess buddy boy can call you Angel, but I canât?â
For fuck sakes.
âChrist, is that what this is about? Who has the bigger dick? What, are you jealous or somethin?ââ You egged him on as you reached for your own concealed gun before an unpleasant chill ran down your spine from the familiar clicking sound of the revolver.
âJealous? Now, why would I be jealous, Angel? Ainât you just a common street whore? Youâll let anyone stick their dick in ya if they pay well. Ah, but you got that Joel Miller wrapped around your pretty little finger. Everyone âround here knows heâs your guard dog. Where is he now, hm?â He cocked his head to the side.
âLook, Benji, youâre a good lookinâ guy and all that, but I fucked you out of spite. Iâll stroke your ego or whatever, but can I please just fuckinâ go home now?â You were exhausted from the grueling day. Your feet ached, your whole body felt like a bunch of pins and needles were stabbing it all at once. All you wanted was to go home, pour yourself a stiff glass, and have a smoke. Was it really too much to ask?
âTurn around. Hands against the wall. No sudden movements.â He ignored every word that left your mouth as if it meant nothing as if you truly were just a whore. For the first time in a long time, you felt dirty. Like something that was disposable. A toy that was no longer shiny and new, but dull and tattered. It made your blood boil.
âBenjiâis that really necessary?â You tried to reason with him, but your attempts were fruitless.
âI said turn the fuck around and put your hands against the goddamn wall. Donât make me ask you a third time, Angel. I ainât have all night.â His jaw ticked impatiently.
âOkay. Okay. You donât have to ask me again.â You reluctantly turned around with your hands above your head before placing your palms flat against the brick wall. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, slicing the skin open from the pressure as you tasted copper along your tongue when he yanked you back by the hips as if he owned them.
âThatâs right. Because that Joel Miller sure turned you into an obedient little cockslut, didnât he?â Benji chuckled deeply against the shell of your ear. His hot breath on your skin sent a wave of nausea crawling up your throat.
âI donât know what the fuck youâre talkinâ about, Benji.â You hissed through your gritted teeth as he began to forcefully pat you down. You thought about trying to escape, but decided that would have been fucking reckless to even try.
âOh, now what do we have here?â He said rather gleefully as he pulled out a baggy of pills. The same baggy of pills that Joel gave to you the night before to deliver to a client.
âThose arenât mine.â Well, that was dumb.
âNo? Hmm. Youâre not good at this whole lyinâ game, Angel. Letâs see what else we got here.â He pulled out your gun from the belt loop of your jeans along with tinfoil wrapped cigarettes; fresh ones that Joel had rolled you.
âWell, my dear, youâre lookinâ at about a week in lockup just from this alone. Unless..â he trailed off knowing exactly what youâd offer him in return.
âYouâre sick, yâknow that?â You scoffed under your breath. Men really did only ever think with their dicks.
âJusâ doinâ my job, Angel. So, whatâre you gonna offer me, hmm? Make it good and Iâll only throw you in there for a day. Sounds fair?â
âRight. Your job at beinâ a fuckinâ rat? Iâll give you a blowie, right here, right now. I think that seems pretty fair, donât you?â The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to go home.
âHm.â He pondered it for a moment, as if he really had to think hard on your offer. âDeal. But I want you to act enthusiastic this time, and take your tits out. Iâm gonna paint them and your face in my come, and youâre gonna sit there and fuckinâ take it, and if you donât?â He flipped you around swiftly, caging you against the wall as he brought the barrel of the gun right against your temple, âIâll spray your brains out right against this fuckinâ wall.â
This wasnât the first time you had been threatened by a man in the QZ, and it certainly wouldnât be the last, but the all too real gun being pressed against your forehead was alarming, and your brain went into compliance mode in an instant. Truthfully, you didnât want to die, and certainly not in a manner such as this.
All you could think about as you slowly sank down to your knees, and as the pavement nipped at your exposed skin, was that Joel would never do something like this to you.
âSure, youâll be the first to know if Iâve seen her, Miller.â He nodded.
Something about Benji, and his stupid face, sent Joelâs hackles rising. But before he could even mutter a reply, Benji was walking away towards the other FEDRA officers.
Joel shook his head while he flipped through his ration cards for the day. He was doing his best to block out all the possible scenarios of your disappearance, but he failed miserably when he realized there was a high possibility that you were either dead, or infected. It happened more often than people would think.
The real start of his manhunt began after he confided in Tess in the utmost Joel fashion. He found himself pacing the length of his apartment while all she could do was watch from the entryway in the kitchen. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she leaned back against the countertop. Her eyes trailed after his frantic movements.
âLook, before you go thinkinâ about doinâ somethinâ reckless, did you ever stop to think that maybe sheâs just in her apartment? She could have slept inââ
He cut her off sharply with a quick shake of his head. âSleepinâ in? Really, is that all Yâgot for me, Tess? I knew she should have just fuckinâ spent the night. Sheâs so goddamn stubborn. I would have even slept on the couch and she could have taken the bed if it was such a big deal. Sheâs so hotân cold!â He growled frustratingly. His hands moved upwards towards his head as his fingers tangled through his hair, yanking at the roots till he was feeling a splice of pain. âOr, better yet, I should have just walked her home myself!â
âTexas, youâre actinâ fuckinâ insane right now! Pacinâ the goddamn apartment like a dog. Ripping your hair out?!â Just calm the fuck down for a second. Take some deep breaths, have a smoke or somethinâ and then letâs both think rationally.â She tried to reason with him. All this got her in return was a narrowed glare, a scoff and an eye roll.
âShe could be fuckinâ dead, Tess! What if somethinâ happened between her leavinâ here last night and walkinâ back to her place?â
âI highly doubt sheâs dead. And if she was, we would have heard about it by now, Joel. Do you want me to help you look for her? Cause I can start askinâ around.â She pushed herself off the side of the counter just as his pacing came to a complete standstill.
âSure, yeah. Go ahead and ask around. But, before you do that, I need ya to tell me where Angel lives. Iâm aware that you know, and that she doesnât want me to know, but youâre gonna tell me either way.â He stated as a matter of factly.
âJoel, she doesnât want you knowing where she lives for obvious reasons. How about you stay here, and Iâll go to her apartment. Like I said, Iâm sure sheâs just fine.â
âYeah? Well, those reasons are irrelevant as of right now. So, quit your little girl code you got goinâ on with her or whatever, and tell me where the fuck her apartment is.â
Tess didnât even bother to argue. She knew Joel long enough to know that he wasnât going to stop until he found that you were safe. Otherwise, the unknown and the âwhat ifsâ would eat him alive, literally.
âYouâre fuckinâ relentless, Texas. Yâknow that?â She pulled out her own personal map of the QZ before laying it out on the worn down kitchen table. She pointed to your exact apartment building. âSheâs on the third floor at the very end of the hall.â
âYep. You damn right I am, Tess. You know me too well.â He merely glanced down at the spot on the map where Tess was pointing at before he snatched up the parchment, folding it neatly and tucked it into his back pocket.
âIâll be needing that back, Texas.â Tess reminded him.
âAnd Iâll be bringinâ it right back as soon as I find her.â Joel responded smoothly, dripping in confidence to mask his true nature. Just like those women he used to sleep with, he could put up a facade with just a snap of his fingers.
âYeah, well, youâre losinâ daylight. Better go find that Angel of yours.â
âBetter me than anyone else.â Joel added with a curt nod. He left the apartment in a rush, skipping a few steps down the stairs. He never handled change of any kind all that well. Especially when you had become a constant in his life while living in this shit hole place. If something had happened to you, Joel would force himself to take all the blame. He felt responsible for you in some capacity.
âSwear to god when I find this girl..â he muttered to himself, shaking his head while slipping past the front door of the apartment building. Evening was steadfast on the horizon; he needed to move fast.
Was it something I said last night?
Was it because I asked her to stay?
Was it the goddamn strap on??
Is she avoiding me on purpose?
Is she dead?
Did she fuckinâ get infected?
Did..she find someone else?
These thoughts and more were swirling through his frantic brain. He fucking hated the fear of the unknown. Absolutely despised the whole entire notion of its existence. Heâd much prefer when things were yanked off like a bandaid. Quick and mostly painless.
He triple checked Tessâs map the entire trek to your apartment building. He had no time to fuck this up, and to the passerby he probably looked like a crazed man; which would be an accurate statement given the circumstances.
Your apartment building was nearly an exact replica of his own. Same shitty staircase, peeling wallpaper, the occasional cry of an infant, or scream of a child. Just the day-to-day sounds of the QZ that weâre all white noise to Joel.
When he found himself standing outside your door, he scoffed at the faded âWelcome :)â mat outside of your door beneath his boots. The smiley face had nearly rubbed off entirely, and he wondered if the mat had been there by your doing, or the previous inhabitants.
Focus, Joel.
He pressed the side of his head against the outside of the door, falling silent as he listened with his good ear for any movements on the other side.
Nothing.
âAngel? Yâin there, doll?â He asked through the thin wood.
Silence.
âLook, Iâm sorry if I said somethinâ to upset you last night, but I havenât seen you all fuckinâ day, and Iâm real worried that somethinâ bad happened to ya. So, if youâre in there, can you please say something?â
Nothing.
âOkay. Okay, so maybe I do deserve the silent treatment after I made you hold my cock in your mouth like a cum bucket whore, but it was uhâout of affection? And if youâre upset that I asked ya to stay the night, then Iâm sorry. It was just late and I wanted toââ
This is fucking stupid.
âCan you fuckinâ answer me, please? Just fuckinâ say something!â He growled, throwing his fists against the door once for good measure. âIâm about five seconds away from lookinâ like a complete and utter psychopath if you donât open this goddamn door!â His frustration was on the cusp of boiling over, like a kettle on the stove.
âOkay, so weâre gonna play the silent game, huh?! I swear to god, Angel. If youâre behind this goddamn door and youâre ignoring me on purpose?! Good god, girl. You got another thing cominâ for ya!â He laughed, one of those unfriendly, chills down the spine, oh shit! Iâm fucked kinda laughs.
Joel Miller had completely lost all remaining shreds of rationale.
âIâm gonna give you to the count of five to open this fuckinâ door, yâhear me?!â He snarled threateningly.
âFive.â
âFour.â
âThree.â
He didnât even get to two before his fists absolutely began to rain down on your doorframe. The cord had snapped and he was fully spiraling without giving a damn of who could see or hear him.
With adrenaline, rage, and fear pumping through his veins, he couldnât even feel the skin along his knuckles being absolutely torn to shreds from how hard he was laying his fists into the wood.
It's like he had completely blacked out and all he could see was red. Red. Red. Red. Red.
Benji was âgenerousâ enough to let you out of being in lockup early and sent you right back out onto the streets. Ridden with exhaustion, you practically dragged yourself back to your apartment with only the thought of a stiff drink and your bed bringing you some form of motivation to keep going.
Your keys jingled in your grasp while you trudged up the stairs. You were oh so close to just plopping down in the hallway, but your apartment was only just down the hall. You could make it.
You passed by one of your neighbors on your way. And when you went to wave, they completely avoided making eye contact with you at all costs. Somehow you just knew that Joel was involved in this behavior, but how the hell did he know where you lived?
Then, you heard the sounds of banshee yelling intensifying the closer you drew to your door.
Jesus fucking Christ. Canât a girl catch a break?
When you turned the corner, you were met with a grizzly bear of a man. Joel Miller had nearly beaten your door in with just his bare fists. You werenât even all that shocked to see him outside of your apartment, but, nonetheless, you were pissed.
You leaned against the corner of the hallway, arms crossed against your chest and a displeased, yet mildly amused look plastered on your face.
âJoel?â
He whipped around in an instant at the familiar sound of your voice. His eyes were wide, nostrils flared, blood dripping down between the ridges of his knuckles, staining the already faded carpet crimson beneath his boots.
He looked crazy.
âWhere in the fuck have you been? Do you know how fuckinâ worried Iâve been all goddamn day?! Huh, sweet girl? Do you have any ideaââ
âYouâre bleeding, sweet boy.â You mumble softly. You had hoped that you could advert his attention, but he was already stalking towards you, something indescribable flashes in his eyes when you call him, âsweet boy.â
âYeah, baby.â He huffs out a raspy laugh. âIâve got splinters in my knuckles banginâ on your door. Tore âem all up.â
Heâs so close now that you can taste his breath and see that flicker of fear in his eyes. His hands encaged around your face. Soft, wet from the blood, but gentle.
Droplets of blood trail down your neck and down the clavicle between your covered breasts. You shouldnât be turned onâbut that cunt of yours has a mind of her own, sometimes.
âJoel, you didnât have to show up here like a crazy man and nearly go and break down my door.â
He glares, bloodstained thumb swiping across your lower lip. âDonât tell me what I did and didnât have to do, Angel. Havenât seen you all day. Thought you were fuckinâ dead or somethin.ââ
âYeah, well, Iâm not dead. Iâm right here. Why the hell did you even care in the first place, huh? Canât even go one day without losing your cool?â Itâs your turn to challenge him now. You place your palms flat on his chest, giving him a firm shove.
He glared, eyes narrowing into slits. His head cocked to the side in a condescending manner. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He dropped his hands from your face only to then encage your wrists above your head. He used his sheer mass to press your back directly against the hallway wall. He loomed over you to appear more menacing, like a predator going in for the kill. âWho said anythinâ about me caring, huh? Is that why you think Iâm here, Angel? Cusâ I care?â He questioned, pushing you further into the wall. His chest was pressed right against yours, leaving you no room to escape, let alone breathe.
âWhy would I give a damn where my whore on stilts wandered off to? Yâthink you mean anythinâ to me other than a hole to fuck? Donât be so naive.â He scoffed.
âYou have got to be the worst fuckinâ liar, Joel. Right. You donât care. You just happened to track down where I live, proceeded to bust down my door, just because Iâm a hole for you to fuck? Right. Keep on telling yourself that, buddy boy. Keep livinâ in your delusions. See how far that gets ya.â You held in your laugh from slipping past. Could he not see that you were exhausted? You had been beaten down enough as it was, you didnât need Joel fucking Miller pushing you down further.
âThatâs it? Thatâs all yâcan say to me? No bite back? No fuck you Joel? What the hell happened to you, huh?â He pressed further, tightening his hold around your wrists. âWhat happened after you left my place last night, Angel?â His tone was much softer now, gentle, laced with concern.
You couldnât keep up with his mood swings if you tried. Joel Miller was one hot and cold man.
âNo. We are not about to do this again. Not when in one breath youâre a complete asshole, and the next?!â You laughed bitterly. âJoel, Iâm fuckinâ exhausted, okay? I had a shit night, and I just want to go and have a stiff drink. If you want to join, then be my guest, but I wonât take another minute of your bitching. Yâgot that?â
Joel found himself studying your face. He thought that maybe he could read between the lines and figure out exactly why you were so exhausted, but you werenât budging, not even for him. What was that bit about him fucking hating the fear of the unknown? Oh, yeah.
âAngel, look..Iâmââ
âOh, fuck no. You are not about to apologize for that. No. You meant every word, Joel. You donât get to take that back.â You shook your head in disappointment, breaking your wrists free from his gradually loosening grip before you pulled away entirely.
Donât cry. Donât cry. Donât cry.
You didnât even wait to see if he would follow you, you could care less if he did, or didnât. With your keys in hand you unlocked your door, muttering about how it probably wouldnât lock properly anymore from the damage Joel inflicted on it.
Joelâs fingers twitched at his side. He was silently debating his options. It was pointly obvious that something had happened to you, but he had no right to pry. His footsteps followed yours like a shadow.
âYou should probably get your knuckles patched up.â You muttered under your breath while carelessly tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter.
âTheyâll be alright. Nothinâ I canât handle.â He replied smoothly and shoved his hands into the deep caverns of the pockets on the front of his worn jeans.
âI have a first aid kit in the bathroom.â You stated plainly. Your back was facing him behind the counter while you grabbed your stashed bottle of whiskey, and two glasses.
He was observing you with a careful eye when you turned around to face him. âAre you offering to patch up my self-inflicted wounds, baby?â He asked in a crackling rasp, like logs on a fire.
âSure. If thatâs how you want to phrase it.â You shrugged before popping the cap off the bottle with your teeth. You poured a generous splash of the amber colored liquor into both glasses. You opted to take a quick swig from the bottle, needing that little bit of relief to kick in sooner, rather than later.
âWhy?â He questioned. He reached for the glass, guiding it towards him before he snatched it up in his hand. He took a hefty sip, letting the warmth from the liquor spread through his system like a warm hug.
âAre you really that fuckinâ stupid, Joel?â You wanted to laugh, but it came out more like a strained scoff if anything.
ââFraid so, my Angel.â He smirked over the rim of the cloudy glass.
âGuess the apocalypse shrunk menâs already pea sized brains even more.â You muttered with a shake of your head before downing the liquor from your glass in one swift gulp. Your hand wrapped around his thick wrist, and before he could protest, you were dragging him to your bathroom.
âSitâ you commanded with a gesture to the closed toilet seat.
âLook, you really donât have to do all this, itâs justaââ
You interjected swiftly, giving him a stern glare before grabbing the first aid kit from behind the cabinet door that was barely holding on by the hinges. âOkay, so then leave, Joel.â
His brows furrowed at your response, and his lips pursed tightly. He ultimately decided to plop down on the toilet seat with a huff. âAre you going to tell me where the hell youâve been all day? Or are you just gonna keep avoidinâ my question?â
âIf youâre good, then Iâll tell you. Cause frankly, right now? Iâm sick of your shit, Joel. But somehow, some way, my cold cold heart has a shred of kindness left for you.â
He scoffed, resting his head back against the peeling wallpaper. âYouâre sick of my shit?â
âYes. Because youâre a fuckinâ asshole, Joel. How many times am I going to repeat myself? Normal people donât stalk someone, attempt to break down their door, and then demand to know where theyâve been all day!â
âOh boy, weâre still on that topic?â He placed his bloodstained hands on his knees and shook his head before he sat back. âSo, what would you rather me have done, hmm? Sweetheart, I donât know if youâve noticed,â he gestured with his hands, âit wasnât like I could fuckinâ call you up! Do you see a phone in sight anywhere? No? Wow, I wonder why! Itâs almost like weâre in a fuckinâ apocalypse!â He said with sarcasm dripping with every breath.
And then you threw Joel Miller for a loop when you whipped out a fucking spray bottle and sprayed his snarky ass right in the face!
It didnât even matter where the hell you found the damn spray bottle in the first place, it was the fact that you had the balls to spray him in the face, not once, but twice when he went to open his mouth. You swore you could see the steam rising from the water droplets on his skin. Like he was an animated bull from those old animated movies. Nostrils flaring red hot flames, smoke billowing from his ears. The tea kettle had reached its boiling point.
On the opposite end of the spray bottle, you saw that very bull with steam spewing. He was flabbergasted, bewildered at your rash decision. âDid you just fuckinâ spray me like Iâm a goddamn cat or somethin?!ââ His voice boomed like an overhead crack of thunder unleashing its rage in a crescendo.
âI did.â
âAnd why the hell did you think that you could jusâgoân spray me in the face like that?!â
âYou say an awful lot of stupid and hurtful shit to me, Joel Miller. You hurt my feelings, pissed me off, and Iâve just about had it. So, everytime you open that big fuckinâ mouth of yours and say somethinâ mean and stupid, Iâm gonna spray you in the face with this.â You waved the spray bottle around for a moment to get your point across.
Displeased, drenched like a damn cat, Joel sent daggers your way with one harsh glare. âOh, I didnât realize we were throwinâ a fuckinâ pity party ontop of all of this.â He scoffed.
âDid you notââ you laughed incredulously, âhear a goddamn word I just said? Fine. Well, let me remind you what happens when youâre fuckinâ stupid!â You sprayed him again.
This time he shut up..for now.
âRefreshing.â He mumbled very much like a dog with its tail between its legs.
You set the spray bottle down along the edge of the counter where it was in arm's reach, before you sank down between his spread knees with the first aid kit tucked under your armpit. âLet me see just what kinda damage youâve done to your beautiful hands, Joel.â Your voice was much softer now compared to moments earlier. At least now you had him tamed and compliant.
âI didnât break âem. Although, if you hadnât shown up, I probably would have. And they ainât beautiful, Angel. Theyâre ugly.â He gruffed out.
âTheyâre beautiful to me, Joel.â You reached for his hands once they were presented in front of you. The blood had already begun to congeal and dry in some places. âYeah, you definitely have some splinters in there that are gonna have to come out.â
âFuck no. Just leave âem.â He shook his head.
For the first time in over 24 hours, you smiled. It was really just a slight tug of your lips, but it was there. âAre you afraid of tweezers or somethin?ââ You mused.
He scowled at your question and picked a spot on the wall to stare at so he didnât have to make eye contact. âNo.â He grumbled, jaw ticking under the dangling bathroom light.
âYou sure about that?â You asked while placing the first aid kit alongside you on the floor. You popped it open, rifling through the different aids before pulling out disinfectant spray and tweezers.
âCrystal.â He confirmed.
âOokay.â You did your best to hide your little grin while you held the disinfectant spray a few inches above his hands. âThis might sting a little.â You softly warned him.
He barely flinched when he felt the sudden coolness from the spray adhering to his open wounds. His nose did twitch the slightest when the stinging sensation settled in.
âYouâre being an excellent patient for me, Mr. Miller. Maybe if youâre a good boy for the next part, Iâll reward you with a lollipop.â
He finally looked at you, tearing his gaze from the wallpaper to meet your eyes. His lips curved upwards into a small smirk. âSounds wonderful, Doctor. Do you promise to be gentle?â He played along.
âAlways, Joel.â You replied.
His eyes stayed locked on your own for what felt like hours, neither of you quite ready to break the contact just yet. He cleared his throat, shifting along the closed toilet seat. âUh, will..you hold my hand? I lied about the tweezer thing. Splinters hurt like a bitch, and uhâyeah.â He muttered under his breath while the heat began to rise rapidly to his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned beet red.
âIf itâll make you feel more comfortable, Joel.â You nodded reassuringly. Your left hand reached for his own when he had pulled back slightly in a jerking movement. You could sense his palpable hesitation radiating off of him before he finally relaxed.
âThis is stupid.â He said suddenly, feeling more bashful as the seconds ticked by.
âItâs not stupid at all, Joel. Splinters are no fun at all.â
I mean, This. Me and you. Itâs stupid. I shouldnât be blushing like a schoolgirl right now. And over what? Holding hands? He thought to himself.
Heâs kinda sweet..in his own Joel way. You thought silently to yourself.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.
âGet on with it, please.â He nearly whispered when his left hand finally reached towards your own. He was the one to thread his fingers through yours and let your entwined hands rest along his left thigh comfortably.
It took all of twenty minutes for you to successfully remove every splinter from his hands. Some fragmented pieces of wood were a bit deeper than others. He was a real champ, and you surprised him with a kiss. A soft reward that he felt he was undeserving of.
âI think you should let them breathe a bit longer and then weâll bandage up.â You said while moving to stand back up. Your left hand was still engulfed in his own when he stopped you from standing up.
âArenât you gonna kiss them all better, doctor?â He asked with a tilt of his head. He looked like a puppy with his tousled, wild hair, and big brown eyes staring at you.
You found your lips kissing his broken skin before you even had a chance to respond. A kiss was pressed to each knuckle in an affectionate manner.
He broke the silence when your hand departed from his and you busied yourself with putting away the first aid kit.
âAre you going to tell me what happened to you out there, or are we gonna keep dancinâ around the subject?â He asked rather softly. Almost as if he was concerned.
âThereâs nothing to talk about, Joel.â
Please donât ask me again.
âAngel..â
âLetâs go finish our drinks.â You interjected with a hidden fake smile.
His eyes follow your silhouette when you swiftly remove yourself from the small bathroom. He shakes his head with a sigh before he finally stands up. He eyes the spray bottle still resting along the bathroom counter, and in an extremely cat-like fashion, he swiftly knocks it over into the trash bin below.
Good riddance.
When Joel left your bathroom, he soon found you with your feet tucked under your thighs on the far end of the couch. You appeared to be staring off into space while you nursed your glass of whiskey in silence. He really wasnât quite sure what to think of your behavior, let alone how he should approach you.
Nonetheless he grabbed his own glass and joined you on the couch. Your eyes stayed focused on the wall even when you felt the old cushions dip down from Joelâs weight pressing down on them gradually.
He swirled the contents around in his glass absentmindedly before he took a small sip. You could feel his eyes along the side of your head when he moved the glass to rest between his knees.
âI really wish you would jusâ..talk to me, sweetheart.â He rasped softly while he twiddled with his fingers that werenât wrapped around the glass. He was never really good at having these types of conversations, but heâd be damned if he didnât try one last time.
You shifted uncomfortably from his words. You didnât want to tell him what happened to you in that disgusting alley. Or the way that Benjiâs touch made you feel nauseous. You didnât want to tell Joel that you were made to feel like literal human trash. Pond scum, gum beneath menâs shoes. You didnât want to confess that you spent a night in lockup, crying against the cold concrete till your body could no longer produce tears while Benji, and a few of his FEDRA friends proceeded to violate you further, stripping you of your autonomy and dignity with grime stained fingernails, and cruel laughter. Nothinâ but a common street whore, that one. Make her gag on it. I wanna see tears streaming down those pretty fuckinâ cheeks, boys. Miller ainât here to save you now, Angel. You belong to us.
You didnât want Joel to believe that you were this broken, damaged person. You didnât want him to take pity on you. That was quite literally the last thing you wanted from him. But, you were only human, after all, and pain had a sneaky way of revealing itself even when you had done everything possible to cloak it.
He watched as you drained the contents of your glass wordlessly before you slipped down from the couch, falling to your knees between his thighs.
She loves it, donât be fooled boys. She loves to be fucked like a dirty little whore. Ainât that right, Angel? Joel Miller got her all obedient, just for us. Sheâll do anythinâ you ask of her.
âAngel.â He started, words lodging in his throat. Something about this felt wrong.
You ignored him, reaching for his belt with trembling fingers as you worked it open.
Cusâ a whore is all youâll ever be, sweetheart. The best pussy in all of the fuckinâ QZ. Bet heâll smell me all over ya, Angel. I hope he does. I hope that guard dog can fuckinâ taste my come inside of ya next time he takes you.
Joel finds himself frozen in time when he sees the way your fingers tremble. Heâs stunned and unsure what he should do in this situation. Heâs never seen you like this before. Heâs used to your brashness. Your confidence. Your swift, snarky, sarcastic remarks. The woman on her knees between his thighs is not you. He knows then that he has to stop this. He has to say something.
âAngel, baby. I donât think weââ he struggles to find the right words to say. To be delicate, but firm. This had nothing to do with his own feelings, and had everything to do with yours. âThis doesnât feel right, sweetheart.â
Your heart sinks to the pits. He knows. He fucking knows. He knows, and thinks you to be worthless, just like the rest of them.
You sink back along your thighs, tears pooling in your eyes. âYou donât..want me anymore, Joel?â You ask above a whisper, holding on by a mangled thread.
He shakes his head slowly, his heart breaking in the process.
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Home
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Rating: General Audiences
Warning: Fluff, Mutual Pining
Category:F/M
Fandom:
Relationships:!idol Woozi x !f plus-size baker Reader
Summary: You're the embodiment of home to the grumpiest man you know, but why?
Trope: hates everyone but you
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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the seventh installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!
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It's funny how love finds its way into the most unexpected corners of our lives, like flour dust settling into every crease on a well-loved baking sheet.
Take Woozi, for example. Known for his grumpy demeanor and an attitude that screams "leave me alone," especially when he's in the zone creating music. Heâs not someone you'd think would charm many hearts, especially not someone like me, a plus-size girl who loves the warmth of an oven and the sight of a perfectly risen cake. But for some reason, he'd always hated everyoneâexcept me.
From the first time we met, I sensed a different kind of vibe from him. As if behind those narrow, focused eyes, behind the slightly upturned lips that hardly ever smile, there was something just for me. Of course, I'd never admit that out loud. What if I was wrong? What if those stolen glances and the occasional shared joke were just figments of my hopeful imagination?
But today was different. Today, I was going to test this theory. Today, I invited Woozi over to bake with me.
The doorbell rings, cutting through the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon already filling my kitchen. I wipe my hands on my apron, a silly one with a cartoon cat saying, "Bake the world a better place," and answer the door. There he stands, looking unusually casual in jeans and a hoodie, balancing a box of strawberries and a quart of cream in the crook of his elbow.
"Hey, you managed to survive my complicated directions," I tease, stepping aside to let him in.
"I have a GPS, Y/N. It's not 1970," he retorts with a small, almost imperceptible smirk. It's moments like these that fuel my suspicion that beneath that tough exterior, there lies a heart that beats just a bit faster for me.
We find ourselves in my cozy kitchen, the counter already laden with ingredients and bowls. Itâs a modest space, but itâs the heart of my home, adorned with hanging copper pots, whimsical mugs, and a couple of photos pinned to a corkboard.
"So, what's the plan, Master Baker?" Woozi asks, placing the strawberries and cream next to the other ingredients.
"You, my dear sous-chef, are going to help me make strawberry shortcake," I say, handing him an apron that reads, "Mr. Good Lookin' is Cookin'."
"Seriously?" He snorts, holding the apron at arm's length. "You're ridiculous, Y/N."
"But you love it," I challenge, raising an eyebrow. To my surprise, he ties the apron around his waist without another word.
We start mixing the ingredients, working a studio," I say, as I knead the dough.
"I can bake, I just choose not to," he replies, focused on slicing the strawberries. His fingers work deftly, and I canât help but admire their grace. "Why do you think I agreed to come here?"
"Because I'm amazing company and you were dying to spend some quality time with me," I joke, though I hope some part of it rings true.
"Ha, you wish gum drop. I just had today off." He said with a wink before shaking his head. "No I actually wanting to hang out wthyou seriously, and free food." He says with the most sincere tone in his voice.
Itâs not long before the conversation mellows into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clink of bowls, the hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional bubbling laugh when flour puffs out too forcefully from the bag.
As we're readying the dough for the oven, I find my eyes wandering over to him more than I intend. There's a delicate smudge of flour adorning his cheek, and I can't resist.
"Hey, Jihoon," I call out, a devilish grin playing on my lips. As he turns, I swipe a fingerful of flour across his nose.
He freezes, blinking rapidly before staring down at me, speechless. I burst into laughter, but itâs short-lived as he dips his own fingers into the flour bag.
"Oh, it's on," he declares, before flicking a generous pinch of flour back at me. It catches in my hair and eyelashes, sending me into another fit of giggles.
Weâre immersed in a full-blown flour fight within seconds, laughter echoing off the kitchen walls. Heâs surprisingly quick, dodging and weaving with the agility of someone much nimbler. But I hold my own, scattering handfuls of flour at him, my cheeks burning from too much laughter.
Our cat-and-mouse game eventually leads to us standing face-to-face, breathing heavily, both coated in a fine layer of white. His eyes are softer than Iâve ever seen, a hint of playful mischief lingering in those normally serious depths.
"Truce?" I whisper, holding up my hands.
"Truce," he nods, but neither of us moves away. Instead, he reaches up, his thumb gently brushing flour off my cheek. The touch, though small, sends an electric shock straight to my heart.
"There's something Iâve wanted to ask you," he says softly, his thumb lingering on my skin.
My heart skips. "Whatâs that?"
"Why is it," he begins, his voice barely a murmur, "that out of all the annoying people in the world, I donât hate you, hmm?"
I laugh softly, though the weight of his words trembles through me. "Maybe because I'm not annoying?"
"No," he shakes his head, taking a step closer. "It's because youâre the only one who makes me feel... home. Like this kitchen. Warm, inviting, and...not alone."
My breath hitches at his confession, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "Jihoon... you too. Youâre the only one I feel genuinely comfortable with."
For a moment, time suspends itself, the only witnesses to our silent heartbeats being the butter-drenched dough and sliced strawberries waiting nearby.
Then, as if connecting the dots of a long-unread map, Woozi leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. Itâs brief, almost hesitant, but it speaks volumes of unspoken emotions. When he pulls away, his eyes search mine for any sign of regret, but all he finds is a reflection of his own longing.
"Thanks for the flour fight," he gently pulls away resting his forehead against mine and whispers, a genuine smile breaking his usually stoic face. "And the baking."
"Anytime," I reply, my heart glowing brighter than the kitchen lights. "Welcome home, Woozi."
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
âThank You For Reading!đ©”đ©¶
-prettygirl-Gabiâšïžđ
Dividers : by ioveartfilm
#kpop#seventeen#oneshot#support the writers!#svt imagines#mini series#seungkwan#seventeen ambw#svt scoups#svt#woozi#wonwoo#plus size reader#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#woozi x plus-size#baker!reader#!idol boyfriend#!idol friend#!idol woozi x !baker reader#soft aesthetic
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Itâs actually odd that modern Les Mis adaptations never really seem to take the interpretation that Jean Valjean is suffering from severe trauma/PTSD?
You would think thatâd be the most obvious road for a modern adaptation to takeâ especially because âthe lasting trauma of incarceration that continues even after a sentence endsâ is still a very relevant Thing.
In the original novel, as Iâve mentioned before, reading the descriptions of Jean Valjeanâs personality are often just like reading down a list of PTSD symptoms. He has flashbacks at reminders of prison, he has âpanic attacksâ at the idea of prison where he loses touch with reality and feels the desperate need to run/hide even when heâs not actually being pursued, he is obsessively avoidant of talking about his trauma to anyone, he deprives himself of food and warmth in fits of self-harm, he isolates himself from other people, he throws himself into dangerous situations with little regard for his own life, and so on and so on.
But it feels like adaptations either take the interpretation of âJean Valjean is a saintâ (the musical/2012 film) or they swerve in the other direction of âJean Valjean is a violent Criminal(tm) who constantly flies into dangerous ragesâ (bbc Les mis, Les mis 1998.)
While I obviously prefer the musical and think itâs closer to the spirit of the bookâŠ. Iâm so confused that people who try to write a âgritty/realisticâ Jean Valjean are just like âheâs a criminal so he must be Violent, the way criminals are.â
Because again, book Jean Valjean is a deeply flawed character! Heâs full of repressed anger/trauma, and makes kind selfless sacrifices but also horrible self-destructive decisions. Heâs excessively conciliatory and conflict-avoidant and self-effacing. His relationship with Cosette is complicated and fraught, even though itâs kind and loving. I think if you had any investment in portraying âthe lasting trauma of incarceration on the people who suffer through it,â it really wouldnât be that hard to make Jean Valjeanâs characterization very immediately relevant to a modern audience.
#Les mis#he has returned to Les mis letters!!!#YAY#but at what cost#at what cost đ#unbearably sad beast
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The Ambiguous Political Relationship Between Lazare Carnot and FĂ©lix Le Peletier
On the surface, and even at a deeper ideological level, a lot divides these two men. FĂ©lix Le Peletier became one of the most well-known republican opponents of the Directoire period (among the famous opponents of this period are Bernard Metge, Xavier Audouin, Antonelle, Jean-Baptiste Drouet, Gracchus Babeuf, Victor Bach, although some of them were not aligned on the same idealsâfor example, Metge was a liberal follower of the Constitution of Year III and anti-Babouvist), whereas Lazare Carnot was one of the most important members of the Directoire. Carnot was much more conservative on many points compared to FĂ©lix Le Peletier. However, their relationship is far more complex than simply being sworn enemies.
Here is an excerpt from their complex relationship: "In early November 1795, upon Carnot's recommendation, FĂ©lix Le Peletier was offered a position as a commissioner of the Directoire in the department of Seine-et-Oise. He rejected it with surprising virulence, informing Carnot that he regarded him as a tyrant and would continue to work to overthrow him. Carnot-Feulins, in his Histoire du Directoire, asserts, however, that FĂ©lix Le Peletier and his brother had close relations and frequently conversed. In 1796, when the Conjuration des Ăgaux was suppressed, Carnot led the operation. Yet, FĂ©lix Le Peletier escaped the police. Was this with Carnot's complicity? It seems hard to believe, especially since an archival document suggests that he narrowly escaped a police dragnet because he was detained in a cafĂ© on Rue des Deux-Ăcus with a soldier. However, when in May 1796, he dared to publish his Second Reflections on the Present Moment, a strong indictment in favor of equality and common happiness, it is certain that he benefited from effective protection. At the same time, an arrest warrant signed by Carnot was issued for FĂ©lix Le Peletier, 'accused of conspiracy against the internal and external security of the Republic.' Despite this, FĂ©lix Le Peletier acted quite freely in Paris and Versailles. Was Carnot playing a double game? One might assume so. There is testimony to support this. A passage from the MĂ©moires sur Carnot by his son claims that during the Grenelle uprising, Carnot warned FĂ©lix Le Peletier the very morning that the police were about to intervene. FĂ©lix Le Peletier supposedly shared this warning with several others. Finally, the close ties between Carnot and FĂ©lix Le Peletier are evident during the Hundred Days. Carnot was appointed Minister of the Interior. On his recommendation, FĂ©lix Le Peletier was appointed commissioner of the Empire in the department of Seine-InfĂ©rieure, where he lived. Elected to the Chamber of Representatives after the May 1815 legislative elections, he went to Paris and was offered the Legion of Honor by Carnot, which he refused."
What is strange is that FĂ©lix Le Peletier never forgot that Carnot was responsible for the death of his friend Gracchus Babeuf (whom he was very close to). I believe that while FĂ©lix Le Peletier was a staunch activist, he did not believe in the death of a republican martyr and was prepared to continue living and fighting without abandoning his friends. After all, FĂ©lix Le Peletier accepted help from his childhood friend Saint-Jean dâAngely when he was persecuted by Bonaparte and nearly deported. So, he might have accepted help from Carnot as well, even though his friend Gracchus Babeuf had been condemned to death, for in any case, FĂ©lix could have done nothing.
What I personally find intriguing is Carnot's attitude. I mean, he clearly saw that FĂ©lix was not a real threat and decided to protect him. That is to his credit. Yet, he led a repression against the Babouvists, including FĂ©lix Le Peletier's friends. I get the impression that Carnot overestimated the "danger" posed by Gracchus and his Babouvist associates compared to other elements under the Directoire regime, and thatâs why Carnot acted this way.
Perhaps this is one of the reasons why Gracchus (and Buonarotti) spared Carnot from most of the criticism, while he was virulent against Cochon, the Minister of Police, and Grisel, despite the terrible ordeals Gracchus endured, such as being transported in a metal cage from Paris to VendĂŽme. The reason may be that Carnot at least protected some of his friends, in addition to other reasons Iâve mentioned here. Indeed, in the last letter Gracchus sent to his friend FĂ©lix, he told him that he knew FĂ©lix would be spared, even though Gracchus was to be executed, as you can see here.
But the fact that Carnot wanted to recruit FĂ©lix Le Peletier offers a plausible explanation for why Ămile Babeuf might have worked for Carnot, specifically on a mission during the Hundred Days, as shown here. Indeed, Ămile Babeuf, like FĂ©lix Le Peletier, aligned with Bonaparte during the Hundred Days. Now, we know that FĂ©lix Le Peletier was a protector of the Babeuf family and very close to them (he considered them as a family, and vice versa, not to mention their shared political views on several points). So itâs likely that if Carnot wanted FĂ©lix Le Peletier to work for him, FĂ©lix could have served as an intermediary for Ămile Babeuf to send a letter to Lazare Carnot. This now makes more sense to me, considering what happened between Carnot and Gracchus Babeuf.
Sources (about the excerpt) :
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Itâs me again Iâm glad you like to yap thanks for always answering
So, since you said that you donât have much knowledge of the EC, I want to discuss with you, when a fan asked Nora who were Kevinâs friends/BFFs she mentioned that Kevin didnât know really how friendship works but post TKM him and Thea properly become friends. Nice.
Except, she also mentioned that post Rikoâs funeral Kevin gets a lot of shit from the foxes for mourning the Seth overdose and Andrew r*pe arranger that Riko was. And that the foxes have a hard time sympathizing with that side of Kevin, except for Andrew and Neil.
Again. This all adds up weirdly. One of the biggest reasons cult members have a haced time leaving a cult is because they fear to be made accountable of their actions while they were in their bee hive minds. And with Noraâs answers it seems Kevin sought a fellow Raven to not face judgement. Very valid but the fact that he stays forever with her?
Kevin is criticized for mutinying Riko â> becomes closer with âloyal to the ravens till the endâ âno harm no foulâ Thea. And then Nora mentions how they had a daughter and were super pushy about ext with her.
ooh okay this is definitely a tough question.
i agree that kevthea becoming proper friends post-tkm makes complete sense, especially with kevinâs other friends (the foxes) not always being able to empathize or sympathize while he mourns riko. as a raven, thea will at least somewhat understand, even if she doesnât know the details of why mourning riko is so complicated for kevin specifically. still, i canât help wondering how much of her âsympathyâ towards kevinâs grief is clouded by a lingering allegiance to riko. i fear that she may not really be looking out for kevinâs best interests here. even unintentionally, thereâs clear potential for thea to enable kevinâs regression into old habits or beliefs related to riko and the ravens. i struggle to imagine her successfully helping him to move on (or him helping her, for that matter).
which, okay, maybe thatâs the story nora wants to tell. but damn, i do not want that for kevin, especially when weâve seen how far heâs come throughout the original aftg trilogy. i donât want all his progress erased by rikoâs death because then riko gets the last laugh.
what you said about kevthea being endgame and having a child in the ec basically confirms the suspicions iâve had since jean and kevinâs interactions in tsc: a raven cannot heal from their trauma alongside another raven.
while i canât say iâm surprised, i absolutely despise that kevthea pushes exy on their daughter. poor girl. i hope they at least go about it in a way that indulges a pre-existing interest she has, but that could very easily not be the case. to me, this seems like proof that the nest still has a rather strong hold on kevin and thea.
in all honesty, i think the healthiest non-platonic relationship kevin (or most ravens, including thea) could have would be with someone who is either: a) completely removed from exy or b) a casual exy enjoyer who hasnât made stickball their whole world. iâd argue that ravens need a clear separation between exy and other parts of their lives to recover, which seems to be tscâs messaging as well.
but i also know that's wildly idealistic.
i acknowledge that not being obsessed with exy isnât realistic for kevin because of his past, present, and future. living and breathing exy has been instilled in kevin throughout his entire childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. now, with riko gone, heâs in a position to start figuring out what exy means to him on a personal level (iâd argue this is part of what him learning to play ambidextrously symbolizes). to a certain degree, he can reclaim exy on his own terms. however, because of the deal neil worked out with ichirou, kevin continuing to stay alive literally depends on him going pro and making a lot of money to pay off the yakuza. so how much can playing exy ever really be on kevinâs terms when his survivalâs at stake?
the day kevinâs passion for exy dims or changes to anything beyond striving to be the best is the day he runs out of use. more than that, itâs the day he risks getting killed. thea allows kevin to hold onto his old self just enough for him to stay alive. in some messed up way, kevin may need thea to keep him alive even if being with her simultaneously prevents him from living fully.
i adore kevin and it really hurts to see him resign himself to such a bleak existence, especially when other characters in similar situations donât have to sacrifice themselves like that. neil is trapped in the same deal as kevin, but he has andrew as a support system both within AND beyond exy. moreover, andrew forces neil to have a life outside of exy because exy has never been andrew's top priority. tsc seems to be setting up the same dynamic for jerejean, too (ex: pottery class). considering that exy is the only thing that brought and continues to hold kevthea together, with both of them having exy as their first priorities⊠idk. it doesnât bode well.
for what itâs worth, i could accept all of this as being a believable part of kevinâs journey if his and theaâs marriage ultimately ended in them getting divorced and learning to find themselves beyond being ravens. i think thatâd feel bittersweet but necessary for both of them.
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