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itneverendshere · 7 months ago

Note

the aftermath of sex with rafe and you’re about to roll out to leave and he’s like “what’s going on” and you’re like “oh you want me to stay?”

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!!🫶🏼🫶🏼

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 rafe’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. the room smelled like sex and bad decisions—the 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 now—fuck 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 couldn’t seem to stop ending up in bed with. and you weren’t entirely wrong. he was an asshole. that perfect jawline of his clenched every time he looked at you, like he wanted to snap or—snap you in half, depending on the day. he acted like he couldn’t stand you most of the time, and you loved it.

especially when you knew exactly where that frustration would end up: 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. he’d stare at you with that same look—disgusted, maybe even regretful—like he couldn’t believe he’d let himself touch you.

and you weren’t 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 didn’t 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 “i don’t even know why i did this” attitude, like you were the problem.

“where are you going?”

you didn’t even look back at him as you yanked your top over your head. “leaving. what’s it look like?”

the bed creaked as he sat up, and you could practically feel his eyes burning into your back. “what the fuck is going on?”

you paused, one arm halfway through your top, rolling your eyes at his tone. now he wanted to act like something was different? “what do you mean, what’s going on?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. “’m leaving. you know, like i always do after we fuck.”

rafe didn’t answer right away, and for a second, you thought maybe he’d just let it go. but then he surprised you.

“you don’t have to go.”

you turned around slowly, narrowing your eyes at him. “what? you want me to stay now?” 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. “yeah, i don’t know, maybe i do.”

you laughed, genuinely surprised. “since when? you want me to hang around and play house after?”

“do you always have to make everything so fucking complicated?”

you raised an unimpressed brow, “okay, i think you hit your head on the bedframe earlier.”

“shut the fuck up and get in bed.”

you froze, mid-laugh, because—wait—what? rafe cameron, the king of "get out before i pretend you don’t exist," actually wanted you to stay.

“excuse me?” you blinked at him, fully expecting him to break character any second

he was unpredictable like that. one minute, he was treating you like you’re beneath him—like you were the dirty secret he couldn't believe he kept hooking up with—and the next? he was saying stuff that made your heart do this stupid thing it had no business doing.

“get back in bed,” he demanded, like he actually expected you to listen.

“why? so you can flip back to being a fucking asshole in the morning?”

he rolled his eyes and groaned like you were the exhausting one here, “can you just—” he hesitated, clearly fighting with whatever stupid thoughts were bouncing around that kook head of his. “just come back to bed.”

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 didn’t “do” feelings. shit, he barely “did” conversation after sex. this wasn’t 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. “are you serious right now, cameron? you actually want me to stay? for what, a cuddle session? netflix?”

he gave you that trademark irritated look, tongue poking his cheek. “you’re so fucking difficult.”

“yeah, well, you’re not exactly easy, baby.”

you smirked, half expecting him to snap again. but instead, he did something you never saw coming. he ran a hand through his messy hair—full-on frustrated—and sighed. a real sigh. and then, in this quiet voice that was so unlike him, he said, “maybe i just don’t want you to leave.”

you felt your stomach flip. no no no. this wasn’t part of the deal. you two weren’t 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. “rafe…”

“just stay,” 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 wasn’t anger or lust or annoyance.

it almost looked like...he cared. maybe you’d stay, just to see what this was about.

you weren’t about to let your guard down completely. you weren’t some naive kook princess. you knew how to protect yourself—especially from guys like him, because let’s be honest, rafe was a certified disaster in human form. and you weren’t any better.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “if i stay, you’re not gonna pull some ‘i don’t know why i did this’ bullshit tomorrow, right? ‘cause ’m not dealing with that again, cameron.”

he huffed, but there was this softness to it. “can you just stay without turning everything into a fight?”

“turning it into a fight?” you raised a brow, incredulous. “that’s literally your specialty.”

rafe’s jaw tightened—again—but instead of snapping back like usual, he just stared at you. “’m not asking for forever, alrigh’? just one night. jesus.”

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, you’d 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 you’d had with him before.

“happy now?” you muttered, glancing over at him.

rafe didn’t say anything for a second. he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure how to act either. “yeah. maybe i am.”

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 “i shouldn’t have done that” speech. just the two of you, lying there in silence. you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. it wasn’t 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 you’d ever shared. what the hell was happening?

“you’re acting like a human being. it’s weirding me out.”

he smirked, but it didn’t have the usual arrogance behind it. “maybe 'm just tired of being an asshole.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “that would be a first.”

he didn’t 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 wasn’t what you signed up for, not even close.

but then again, when had anything with him ever gone according to plan.

“why are you doing this?” you asked quietly, trying to ignore how fast your pulse was beating.

rafe’s jaw clenched—again, with the jaw clenching—but this time, it didn’t feel like frustration. he was thinking, actually thinking about what to say, and that alone was enough to make you nervous.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, “i just—” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath like the words were hard for him to get out. “maybe i don’t hate you as much as i thought i did.”

that threw you for a loop. he was never this honest. you stared at him, eyes wide, waiting for the punchline, but there wasn’t one. he wasn’t smirking, wasn’t trying to act like he didn’t care. he just... said it. like it was the most normal thing in the world to admit feelings when feelings weren’t even on the table.

“Wow,” you breathed, genuinely shocked. “you really hit your head earlier.”

he snickered, but it sounded different—soft, even. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

“should i call for a doctor?”

it was unsettling seeing him like this, not lashing out or shutting you down with a snide comment.

“you don’t always have to make everything a joke.”

your eyebrows shot up at that, the surprise clear on your face. “excuse me? that’s literally what we do��” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “that’s our thing.”

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 it—like 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 you’d 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 wasn’t 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 wasn’t what you two did. you weren’t 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 didn’t recognize the person in front of you. rafe, however, didn’t seem fazed. he just looked at you with those piercing blue eyes, still holding the back of your neck like he was afraid you’d bolt the second he let go.

“i meant it,” he said quietly, his voice a low, “i don’t want you to leave.”

“i don’t do this,” you muttered, shaking your head. “we don’t do this.”

rafe’s grip on your neck loosened, but his hand didn’t move. “i know. just tonight.”

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 hadn’t expected. maybe he wasn’t asking for forever, but staying here with him felt like it could change everything.

one night and you’d worry about tomorrow when it came.

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tteotlma · 7 months ago

Text

Unspoken

to everyone he's the indestructible wolverine, to you he's just logan —

Bf!Logan/Reader (3.5kw)

a/n: I’m kinda over smut rn.. It requires too much thinking rn and I just want some love so…

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 hadn’t dated in what felt like forever but with Logan everything fell into place.

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.

To you, it felt like you were the center of his universe.

Whenever Logan would spend the night, you’d 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 Logan’s 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 it’s been like that ever since.

Whenever Logan stays over he’s always up before you. The smell of coffee wafting throughout the apartment coaxing you out of bed. Once in the kitchen there’d 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 you’d never say no to it.

He doesn't ask how you take it, he’s 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.

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.

“My handyman.” You tease, discarding the umbrella and leaning against the door frame watching him work.

Without looking back at you he says “Someone’s gotta do it, darlin’.” You let out a small laugh, before walking away to get him a glass of water. When you come back he’s finishing up.

He wipes his hands with a towel, and takes the glass from your hand.

“My hero.” 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.

“Can’t have you dealin’ with this kind of thing.” He says.

“Oh but sir,” You feign innocence, a small smirk growing on your lips. “I don’t get paid until Friday,” You hook a finger in his belt loop giving it a tug. “However, shall I repay you?” You cock your head to the side, and Logan quirks an eyebrow before playing along.

“Didn’tya know? I take other forms of payment.” His voice is low as he grabs your hips guiding you backwards. You laugh as he quickly shuffles backwards into your room.

The both of you stumble onto the bed, and Logan’s 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.

“Oh my, what form of payment were you thinking of?” 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.

He chuckles slowly, “I think y’already know sweetheart.”

Before you can say anything he catches your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, making it clear how he plans to collect.

His weight grounds you, as the teasing is forgotten, replaced with a slow electric pull of desire. Logan’s hand skims all over your body, gentle but firm, reminding you that you’re his in every way that counts.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Now, ‘bout that payment.. Don’t think that was enough, princess.”

You bite your lip, giving him a coy smile as your fingers slide down his chest. “Well, I’d hate to leave a debt unpaid, Sir.”

Logan leans down to brush his lips against yours, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Then you better make it worth while, buttercup. I don’t do all this hard work for nothin’.” He teases.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. “Oh don’t worry. I always leave a generous tip.”

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.

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.

You’d flop onto the sofa as soon as you’d get home, letting the tension ease away from your muscles when five minutes later Logan opens the door, which you left unlocked for him.

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.

“Hi Baby.” You whisper, caressing his face. He looks down at you with hooded eyes and gives you a small smile.

“Hi,” 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 you’re stretched out across the sofa, your legs draped over his, your bodies intertwined in the most comforting way.

He’s 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.

“How was your day?” you ask softly, fingers gently caressing the back of his neck. Logan doesn’t respond right away— he instead lets out a low huff and buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Awe, the poor kitty.” 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.

“Yeah, yeah.” 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.

You run your fingers through his hair one last time before sighing. “I should go shower,” 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.

“Stay here,” 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. “You could always come with me…” you say casually, your back still to him as you head down the hallway.

Logan’s eyes follow you, and he huffs, pushing himself off the couch. “You know I’m not saying no to that.”

Before long, you’re both under the warm spray of the shower, the day’s 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.

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,,

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

Text

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

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pluckyredhead · 2 months ago

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Do you think Dick has a favourite brother?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. I'M GOING TO ANSWER IT AT UNNECESSARY LENGTH.

But for the tl;dr crowd: yes, 1000000%. It's Damian. Dick would not admit this under pain of death, even to himself, but it's Damian.

THE LONG VERSION:

So Dick and Jason are not close and never have been. I always sort of blink in bewilderment when people say they are, or were when Jason was Robin, because they are demonstrably not, and that's what's interesting and tragic about them.

The fact of the matter is that Dick simply wasn't around very much when Jason was Robin. The Doyleist reason for this is that he wasn't really being treated like a Bat character: he was a Titans character, appearing in Titans books, with only the occasional cameo in Batbooks. He and Jason get along very well in Jason's first origin story (when Jason was a circus acrobat and his parents were eaten by crocodiles); in fact, Dick tells Bruce he wants to adopt Jason and Bruce is like "Not if I adopt him first!" But after that, Dick simply...wasn't there very often.

If you need a Watsonian reason for this, it's pretty easy to extrapolate one. Dick and Bruce were not getting along well during this period, so of course Dick would avoid Bruce and Gotham. And yeah, I think it's fair to assume Dick felt some kind of complicated feelings about Bruce having a new Robin, especially post-Crisis when Bruce made Jason Robin without Dick having any say or even a warning that it was going to happen. I tend to headcanon that he resented Jason a little, but was mature enough to know that it wasn't actually Jason's fault, and partially decided to stay away so that he didn't take that out on Jason. But Jason, a smart and sensitive kid, interpreted this as Dick avoiding him because he didn't like him.

And then Jason died.

Dick took that hard, and I think it was less "my brother who I had a close relationship with died" and more "this child followed in my footsteps and it killed him and I wasn't even there for him when I had the chance." To me, that absolutely forms the subtext of the relationship he develops with Tim.

Not at the start. At the start, once "A Lonely Place of Dying" is over, he's as checked out with Tim as he was with Jason. The Doyleist reason is the same - Dick literally just wasn't supposed to be in Batbooks too much - but the way it plays out is sometimes really funny in an awful way. Like in and just after Knightfall, when Bruce gets his back broken by Bane and is like "I've known Jean-Paul Valley for two weeks and he barely has any training, most of it done by my extremely new 13-year-old Robin...I think I'll make him Batman." And then Tim's dad and Tim's dad's doctor, Shondra Kinsolving, get kidnapped, and since Bruce has been aggressively romantically pursuing Shondra to the point of it being uncomfortable and inappropriate, he's like "Okay going to rescue Shondra! I mean, your dad! I'm taking Alfred with me! Tim, you're in charge of Gotham and Jean-Paul byeeeeee!" And then JPV immediately gets unhinged and violent and tries to kill Tim and Tim keeps calling Alfred like "Um can you please come back and help" and Alfred's like "No" and Tim's like "Okay well did you at least rescue my dad?" and Alfred's like "Also no." Anyway Dick finally comes to Gotham and Tim is like "THANK GOD, HELP, BRUCE MADE AZRAEL BATMAN AND HE'S TRYING TO KILL EVERYONE, I NEED AN ADULT" and Dick is like "He made someone who isn't me Batman??? 😡😡😡" and then just...fucks off back to New York and leaves Tim to deal with it. Very out of character, VERY funny.

BUT ANYWAY. Then we get to around 1996 and 1. Dick is no longer on the Titans which has a whole new lineup and 2. there's an editorial shift emphasizing the Batfamily. This is where the line really expands: Robin (started in 1993, but still pretty new), Nightwing, Birds of Prey, Azrael, eventually Gotham Knights in 1999 and Batgirl in 2000. Dick moves to Bludhaven and spends way more time in Gotham.

This is when Dick looks at Tim, says "Is anyone gonna big brother that?" and doesn't wait for an answer. All of a sudden he's behaving in a way that suddenly feels in character for him (although the idea of Dick as a big brother/mentor...really wasn't a thing for him prior to this era, so it's more of a new development that feels correct in retrospect). He's training Tim, he's giving him advice, he's teasing him about girls, he's coming up with inside jokes, he's giving him noogies. It's like he watched a bunch of 80s sitcoms to learn how to be a big brother and applied his research accordingly.

And Tim? Tim absolutely blossoms under the attention. Tim, who has been adultified by every other adult in his life since he was, like, eight, is getting treated like a kid. Tim, whose parents are never around, and don't pay attention when they are around, has an adult he looks up to who wants to spend time with him, for fun. Tim, who has hero worshipped Dick Grayson since he was...well, according to the math, he was one (1) year old so let's ignore the math, but he was small, is now basking in the full force of Dick Grayson's off-the-charts charisma. This is the best thing that has ever happened to Tim. This is the dream.

I want to be clear here: I think Dick's extreme reversal here is a delayed reaction to Jason's death, but I don't want to imply that he doesn't care about Tim as an individual. He loves Tim as much as Tim loves him. Tim's good opinion is incredibly important to him. This relationship goes both ways.

Annnnd then both of their lives fall apart extremely rapidly, and Damian shows up, and Bruce dies. And Dick tries to get out of it, but ultimately it ends how it has to: with him accepting the mantle of Batman, and responsibility for Damian.

The relationship Dick has with Damian is nothing like the relationship Dick has with Tim. Tim is his little bro. Damian is his baby. He's fourteen years older than Damian and as much of a parent figure as a sibling figure. And Damian is difficult and exhausting but Dick slowly, slowly coaxes a degree of trust and affection out of him that even Bruce will never achieve. And he can only do that by making Damian Robin, which means Tim has to stop being Robin.

This is where Dick and Tim fall apart, because what they need in this very vulnerable moment is so diametrically opposed, and neither of them are wrong. To Dick, asking Tim to step down - or up, from Dick's perspective - from being Robin is a compliment. Dick fought to free himself from Bruce, to become his own man with his own name, and so asking Tim to do the same thing is a show of faith in Tim, in his skills and experience.

Whereas Tim's hero-worship has always been for Robin, not Batman, and every glimpse he has had of a future beyond Robin has always been a dystopia. But more importantly, Tim has just lost his father, his stepmother, his mentor, his girlfriend, and his two best friends. He desperately needs to be able to lean on Dick, the grown-up he admires the most, and instead, Dick is kicking him out of the nest.

In other words: Dick is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "I need you to help me by being a fellow adult." And Tim is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "But I need you to be my adult." And they both get a no.

This is water under the bridge now, and they've healed even though they've never really talked it through because Bats don't do that (although what I wouldn't give for a Nightwing/Red Robin miniseries where they do everything but talk about it). But I do think Tim looks at the closeness and affection between Dick and Damian and feels some kind of way about it to this day, because it's so clear to everyone that Damian is Dick's favorite...but Tim remembers when he was Dick's favorite. And what Tim doesn't see is that Dick values him as a genuine partner in a way he will never quite achieve with Damian, because to him, Damian will always be his baby, even more so than he is Bruce's. (Dick is Bruce's baby, actually, not Damian. In this essay I will...)

(I could see a really interesting dynamic developing between Jason and Tim here, as the ones on the outside of that mutual appreciation society, but sadly the comics have never gone there. Alas.)

Finally, I think the relationship between Dick and Duke is very much "I just work here." Like, Dick is grown, he's out of the house, he's largely matured past the Bat-drama. He likes Duke but he doesn't feel the compulsion to brother him the way he did with Tim, and Duke doesn't need the mother henning Damian did.

IN CONCLUSION, and hooboy, sorry anon, most of this wasn't at all the question you asked:

Duke and Dick get along fine but aren't particularly close.

Damian is Dick's precious baby and always will be, even when Damian is an adult and annoyed by this treatment (but privately kind of loves it because he is a princess at heart).

Tim is Dick's buddy, his pal, his equal. If Dick were ever going to talk something through with a sibling, it would be Tim. (But that would require Dick admitting that everything isn't perfect or asking for help, so it'll never happen.)

Jason and Dick can't be in a room together for five minutes without fighting and Dick finds him wildly frustrating, but they will throw down for each other. When they aren't punching each other.

(And to answer the corollary: Damian's favorite brother is Dick. Tim's favorite brother is also Dick. Duke's favorite brother is Tim by default, since he doesn't know Dick very well and Jason and Damian are both too annoying, but really he's closest with Cass. Jason's favorite brother is Ace and he has communicated that often and loudly (but really it's probably also Dick).)

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #batfamily #meta

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roguestorm · 5 months ago

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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.

#m.txt #x men blogging #otp: a hurricane and its eye #scott summers #jean grey #jeanscott

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rei-ismyname · 3 months ago

Text

Cyclops, Masculinity, and the Hellfire Club

After Jean walks in on Emma's 'therapy session' with Scott, the two women have a long discussion in which he is not welcome. Scott deals with his feelings by getting drunk by himself at the Hellfire Club. People just will not leave him alone though, starting with this unnamed psychic dancer. She's presumably doing her job under the assumption that this is what men are here for. It's a normative and reasonable assumption, but Scott is pointedly uninterested in participating in this marker of masculinity.

The dancer's words remind us of Emma - telepathy, seduction, and a call to let loose - though there's markers of Jean there too, the wife he hasn't been able to communicate with. He rejects the whole thing as 'sexless and unarousing' instead of a 'no thanks, I'm not in the mood' or similar. Instead of rejecting Emma by proxy, my read is that he's rejecting the physicality of it, compared to the mind sex that's been going on. Also, Scott does a lot of 'calling the shots' - too much even. Exercising sexual, gendered power doesn't appeal to him.

This is nothing Scott hasn't been told before. I'm reminded of the butte sex incident specifically, where Phoenix urged him to 'get out of [his] head' so they could have sex. The dynamic and the power differential made the traditional gender roles hazy.

I think Scott agrees with the dancer here in some ways. He's been viewed as uptight his whole life and there's so many instances where Scott isn't the instigator of sex and intimacy. Here in the Hellfire Club with their regency cosplay the gender roles are super patriarchal. Scott rejects or tries to escape the expectations of traditional gender roles and the art reflects that - shifting from the male gaze to Scott's famous gaze. Interestingly we never see the dancer's face so we don't know who she's presenting as. It's Jean who has the significant association with black lingerie and red hair but it's Emma who's associated with BDSM.

Scott gives an awkward apology and explanation, doing his best to strip the illusions away. I can't help but feel like he's trying to convince himself that his complicated feelings for Emma aren't real but he's not doing a very good job. Why did he even come to the Hellfire Club? There's plenty of places to get drunk without running into people he knows or people that know him. He's wearing his X-Men jacket and his unique visor, not exactly incognito.

He completely avoids eye contact with the dancer and everything is tinted red, suggesting we're seeing everything through his POV. His gaze has a long association with angst and self doubt - I have to wonder how well he 'sees' the person he's making assumptions about. He's not exactly denying her personhood, but he's not especially interested in it either. It's ironic that he'd go to the one club that has a intimacy-free version of both his significant relationships with women at this point. One thing's for sure, he's not interested in performing masculinity, but he's in a space where he can't escape the expectation.

The faceless, nameless dancer eventually leaves. Scott's brief solitude is interrupted by a particular kind of toxic masculinity turned up to 11 - Sabertooth. He approaches from a dominant position in the ancient greek sense, from behind - while pointedly calling Scott 'boy.' He ignores this, and Sabertooth gets in really close to smell his drink, describing it as 'gay.' Deeply childish, but explicitly challenging Scott's masculinity. Creed accuses Scott of 'having issues' in a pretty egregious pot/kettle situation.

Scott responds, but simply by telling him to get out of his face. 'Seriously.' Creed switches to that other marker of masculinity - violence, or at least threats of it. Scott ignores that too, rejecting chest beating and puerile verbal sparring. Sebastian Shaw intervenes and orders Creed to leave Scott alone. Shaw has his own thoughts on exercising patriarchal power, but leaves when Scott isn't interested.

Scott is about to leave because 'his pride can't take it anymore.' He doesn't elaborate on this because he's accosted by probably the most prominent uber masculine person in his life - Logan. Logan accuses Scott of 'making the X-Men look like losers' and it's hard to read this as anything but a gendered challenge. He expands on Creed's judgment of Scott's choice of beverage by implying it's not 'real' (ly masculine) - slamming a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Scott's not interested in that either.

Logan doesn't really give Scott a choice, framing it in the context of a challenge. Denying that he's here to convince him to return to the X-Men, he tells Scott that Emma was murdered after he left. Leaving him to chew on that, Logan lays out the stakes of the challenge and departs for the urinal - that most bioessentialist of masculine spaces.

Making the subtext text, Creed follows him in for some insecure dick measuring. Rejecting any kind of serious discussion with an uncharacteristically cerebral Sabertooth, Logan issues violent threats and returns to Scott. It's got massive ex vibes in the best Creed/Logan homoerotic manchild way.

Scott finally opens up, discussing his relationship woes with Logan of all people. He shares how each of them makes him feel, explicitly tying the tension to the boy/man dichotomy. The 'pressure' and 'expectations' feel significant, something he should really talk to Jean about. Unfortunately he's got Logan instead, who's not especially interested in listening at all. He chimes in about Jean, of course, but he's here for tough love.

Scott ponders how anyone could think he'd shoot Emma. Above all he's not going back to the mansion and he's not drunk (or so he claims.) Logan, asshole that he is, suggests Scott should be grateful for what he has. 'You always get the best girls' which has got to be the worst possible thing to say (and super gross). Sure, he's having relationship troubles, but he's trying to figure out his emotions and his trauma. Logan frames this as 'all you do is whine' which is both not true and very rich coming from him.

I've never identified with Scott more than when he says 'I hate you.' Logan manages to make it all about himself, explicitly stating his jealousy. 'All I ever wanted was what you got' accusing him of throwing 'it all away to run wild with the White Queen.' He's right that Jean would like it if he came out of his shell, to a degree, but their problem is one of trauma and communication. Logan's possessive, reductive, and frankly ignorant diagnosis misses the forest for the trees. Scott's problems aren't his problems yet he gets the kind of advice one might expect from this hypermasculine space.

Further minimising Scott's issues, Logan shifts the conversation focus entirely to him. He outright says that Scott's problems are nothing compared to his and guilts him into helping assault The World to uncover Logan's past. He probably would have said yes if he just asked as a friend, but instead he kidnaps him when he passes out. Logan says he's 'trying hard' but doesn't finish the sentence before urging him to put aside his problems.

So instead of talking with his wife or getting to brood alone, Scott ends up hungover on a black ops mission. He got to verbalise some things he'd been keeping bottled up, but in a sense he was assaulted by masculinity and toxic expectations at every turn. Dude needs better friends. The narrative doesn't portray this as a positive thing - in fact it's pretty messed up. I wonder if he regrets going to the Hellfire Club.

Despite the superhero context, Grant Morrison does a swell job of portraying an AMAB person withdrawing from masculine-coded spaces and expectations, at least in my experience. Especially when you're friends with people like Logan, whose only mode is toxic hypermasculinity. I think if he was framed as being unequivocally right it'd be overpowering. Morrison's issues with writing women are on display, but overall this issue is powerful, especially for the time.

#x comics #x men #cyclops #logan howlett #new x men #grant morrison #hellfire club #sabertooth #emma frost #jean grey #toxic masculinity #marvel #comics #fantomex

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yelenaslyubov · 2 months ago

Text

There’s No One Like You

main masterlist || kate bishop || requests

requested anonymously

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: kate bishop x female reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut- dom!reader, oral, fingering, alcohol, language, flufffff, mutual pining

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you and kate meet coincidentally at a local bar near your university and hit it off. your complicated and platonic relationship becomes a battle of trying not to cross the line with her. but when kate gives you an invitation, you would be a fool not to take it…

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 5.4k

You weren’t much of a party person, but your roommates had finally pulled your leg enough to drag you out of the house. You definitely weren’t happy, but a deal’s a deal.

The music was too loud, everyone had completely forgotten about personal space, and it was steamy. You much rather would have liked to spend the evening inside watching a movie, or even reading for that matter.

Per usual, you were left alone, none of your roommates in sight. There were faces around that you recognized faintly, but that did not bring you any sort of comfort.

“Have you seen Nat?” you screamed over the loud bass of the music echoing inside the bar. “Yelena? Valk? Hot and threatening women?”

The guy in question shook his head slowly, clearly unenthused with your lost puppy act. You hated how codependent you became in situations like this, but you couldn’t stand to be by yourself, especially not in this environment.

You started to become a bit frantic, pushing through the crowd and scanning the room for any sign of your people. You backed away, hoping to find them the other way. That was until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks, bumping into something quite hard.

“Shit!” you heard a voice behind you say.

You whipped around and saw a tall brunette woman standing in front of you. She was wearing loose fitting jeans and a purple top that swooped low between her breasts while also leaving enough room for her stomach to peek out. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her makeup was light. You could see now the dark liquid that was spilled down her front.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going, are you alright?” you quickly explained.

“I’m all good I promise, no harm done,” the woman smiled.

You couldn’t deny the fact that this woman was extremely attractive. Though the situation was unfortunate, you were almost happy about your clumsy mistake. You decided to go out on a limb.

“Can I buy you a drink, for your troubles… it’s the least I can do?”

The girl pondered for a moment. “I think I can manage that.”

You both made your way over to the bar where you requested another drink for yourself, as well as whatever your new friend wanted. There were empty seats near the end where you and the girl sat down.

“Thanks for the drink…” the woman said, ending the phrase hanging in place of a name she didn’t have.

“Y/n,” you stated.

“Y/n… I’m Kate by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Kate. I’m really sorry about your clothes again.”

“I promise it’s no big deal. To tell you the truth, these aren’t even mine,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to lie, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” you laughed.

“Eh, it’s alright. Not really my style anyway,” she said. “You live around here?”

“Yeah, I actually go to school around here.”

“Oh me too! What school?”

“NYU, what about you?”

“Same! How have we never run into each other? What am I saying, the campus is huge.”

You chuckled. “We probably just have different circles. I’m majoring in marketing.”

“I’m a business major,” she said. “I guess that checks out. Are you involved in any groups or clubs?”

“Not really, I just do photography on the side.”

“Oh that’s pretty cool! You’ll have to show me some of your stuff some time.” Her offer was extremely tempting and you definitely wouldn’t complain if you had to see her again.

“What about you, are you involved in anything?”

“I’m actually captain of the archery team,” she said proudly.

“Wow,” you smirked. “I definitely didn’t peg that on you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she smiled.

“Nothing bad, I’m just surprised is all. I just didn’t see you doing archery of all things.”

She took a sip of her drink. “Well I happen to be full of surprises, thank you very much.”

“I would love for you to enlighten me.” You were flirting now. You didn’t know nearly enough about her to fully commit, but there was no way you didn’t want to test the waters.

“First off, I’m the one who destroyed the bell tower at the end of last semester.”

“No way! That cost the school SO much money!” you laughed.

“Believe me, I’ll never hear the end of it,” she laughed as well, placing her hand on top of yours.

You looked down at her warm fingers that grazed yours so delicately while she laughed. Certainly she didn’t mean to do the gesture, but she also made no effort to remove her hand.

“What about you? Any surprises I should know about?” She removed her hand now, not making any indication that the event even happened.

“You remember the rumor that went around about Professor Connell sleeping with a freshman?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, that was about me. It was entirely untrue and I’ve still yet to figure out who started it. I don’t even like men, that’s the best part,” you laughed.

Kate chuckled. “Hey, that kind of shit happens all the time. There’s been plenty of things said about me, so you’re not alone.”

You couldn’t get over the playful look on her face the entire time you were near her. The way her eyelids rested hazily above her eyes as they stared into yours, even if alcohol was an influence. Or the way she seemed to get closer to you with every word. Or the way you checked occasionally to see her hand resting suspiciously close to yours as the conversation continued.

“Oh! I should put my number in your phone so we can hang out sometime!” Kate exclaimed.

You wasted no time digging in your bag to find your phone to hand over to Kate. She was quick and typed with a smile that you could see illuminated from your phone brightness. She handed it back to you and you looked down at your phone. Her contact name read “world’s greatest archer💜.”

“Now you’ll never forget who it is,” Kate smirked.

“I don’t think I could forget even if I tried.” There were no truer words to be spoken. You smiled back at Kate before jumping out of your skin by the yelling behind you.

“Heyyyy!” Yelena said in a sing-song voice while shaking you by your shoulders. “We have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Apparently not very hard.”

“Oh come on babe, it’s a big place give us a break,” Valkyrie pouted.

“I see you bunch have had a blast while I’ve been gone,” you shook your head.

“So have you,” Nat smirked in Kate’s direction.

You looked back at her. “Uhm, guys this is Kate. Kate, this is Yelena, Valkyrie, and Natasha.”

Valkyrie shoved her hand in front of Kate, extending it in hopes that Kate would set hers atop, in which she was successful. “You can call me anything you’d like.” Valkyrie’s lips made contact with Kate’s knuckles, making her blush.

“Okay, that’s enough!” you panicked. Valkyrie stood firm in her position, one that was only broken when you pulled their hands apart.

“I was just trying to be kind to our guest,” Valkyrie said plainly and rolled her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to Kate.

She laughed. “Don’t be, I like them. I like your vest, blondie.”

“You do?” Yelena gasped, then came closer to Kate to pinch her cheek. “Can we please keep her?”

“No, no, stop that.” You swatted Yelena’s hands away from Kate. “I think it’s time we all go home, yeah?”

“But I was having such a good time,” Yelena whined.

“Well… then why don’t we take this party home?”

Yelena and Valkyrie smirked in each other’s direction. “I’m not opposed, but only if that one comes with,” Valkyrie said demandingly while pointing at Kate.

Kate laughed nervously. “While that sounds like loads of fun, I should probably find my ride too. It’s getting late.”

Your spirit faded and it felt like you had been shot. All night Kate hadn’t mentioned someone else, but now around your friends her attitude seemed to change and there was someone else?

As if it was perfect timing, a tall guy around your age came up behind Kate and swooped his arms around her waist. She jumped and turned around to see him wrapped around her.

“Dylan!” Kate awkwardly yelled. She removed his hands quickly and looked around nervously. “I was just coming to find you. I’m ready to leave.”

She grabbed her things as she stood up from the stool. You were surprised that you were sad to see her go. There were more conversations you wanted to share with her that night, but you knew they would have to wait.

“It was so nice to meet you all,” Kate smiled before taking the hand of the mystery guy named Dylan and walking out of the bar. “Oh, y/n, I’ll text you later!”

All that was left was the pulsing rhythm of the music that you wish you could eliminate. In this moment, you felt like the only person in the bar.

“If I had her, I would never let her out of my sight,” Valkyrie said.

“If I had her, I would never let her leave the house,” Yelena chimed in.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that you’re sober?” you asked Nat.

“What made you think that?” she smirked. “Who else was going to make sure these two stay out of trouble when you aren’t there?”

It was sad but true, and it made you smile. Your smile faded quickly when you made the realization. “Shit.”

“What’s up?” Nat asked.

“Her number is in my phone. She can’t text me unless I text her first.”

Nat patted your back. “I guess that means you gotta put on your big girl pants and put yourself out there.”

“How am I supposed to do that when she’s with someone else?”

“You think she’s with him? No way, that girl is free game. Did you see the way they interacted?”

You shrugged, wanting it to be true. “I guess, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

“All you need is one.”

You looked at Nat in confusion. “One what?”

“Chance.”

A couple days had passed since your first meeting with Kate and you still hadn’t worked up the courage to reach out to her. You couldn’t figure out why there was a mental block around the idea of seeing her again. It seemed to be the idea of watching her with someone else she had clearly been sleeping with. There was no denying that.

You weren’t the only person experiencing anxiety over the situation.

“I don’t understand why you won’t text her, even to see what happens,” Yelena said. It was Sunday night and you were all gathered in the living room on the couch.

“No, you need to wait. You have to give her time to wait it out. Don’t be desperate,” Valkyrie rebutted.

You grumbled and threw your head in your hands. You knew they were trying to help, but you just wished that someone would tell you the right answer.

“Nat?” you asked, giving her the floor to share her advice.

“If I were you, I would text her. There’s no harm in it because you don’t even know if she likes women.”

“Oh, she likes women alright,” Valkyrie said.

“I don’t know…” Your voice didn’t hide your disappointment well.

Yelena narrowed her eyes at you. “Y/n, what did you do?”

“I- I might’ve found her on social media and scrolled… far down.”

They all groaned. “You do this to yourself every time, babe,” Valkyrie said.

“I know, but how else am I supposed to find out more about her!”

“Well, let’s see it then.” Valkyrie moved closer to you on the couch, hoping that you would share your new discovery with them. Yelena and Nat followed quickly behind, all of you now shoulder to shoulder staring at your phone.

You opened one of your many apps and scrolled through the hundreds of pictures Kate had posted. There were many “hmm’s” and reactions from your audience beside you. Yelena reached out to your phone to click on a picture to get a better look.

“Lena, be careful! I don’t need her knowing I’m being a creep and looking through all her old pictures.”

After a couple minutes Valkyrie took the situation into her own hands. “Let me see this.” She began clicking through several pictures and nodding her head.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, just like I thought. That’s a face of a woman kisser.”

She turned the phone towards you and your eyes widened. The picture was of Kate standing with her arms crossed. She had baggy jeans on, combat boots, and a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up her arms into a tank top.

“You’ve got me there,” Nat said.

“Guys, just because she’s wearing specific clothes doesn’t mean she likes women,” you said in a way that made it sound like you were trying to convince yourself.

“Is your gaydar completely broken?” Valkyrie asked, her hand gesturing to the picture once again. “She eats box.”

“Ew, who even says that anymore?” Yelena recoiled.

You swiped your phone from Valkyrie’s hand and stood up. “You guys are the opposite of helpful!”

“I feel like this has been pretty enlightening, personally,” Yelena shrugged.

“I’m going to my room,” you sighed.

“Sleep well, princess!” Valkyrie called out. “I wish you sweet dreams of your precious archer!”

You shut the door to your room quite harshly. Once you were inside you allowed yourself to breathe. Between the reactions of your roommates to seeing the pictures yourself, you were worked up to say the least. You let yourself look at the pictures again and it was hard to hide your giddy smirk.

Kate was even hotter than you pictured. Maybe it was the dim lights in the bar or the unfamiliar outfit she was wearing. Whatever it was, she somehow managed to look even better in these pictures. One thing was for sure— you were glad that her style deviated from her outside two nights ago. From her oversized clothes, boots, and hats, you were practically drooling.

You decided at this moment that you would text her. You found her phone number on her contact page and clicked it without looking back and sent a text quickly saying hello and who you were. Anxiety took over, causing you to throw your phone on the bed. You knew staring at your phone was not the way to go about waiting for her text.

Surprisingly, there was a ding from your phone that sounded seconds after tossing it away. You scrambled for your phone even if you realized how silly you looked. You opened your lock screen and stared at the text from Kate.

“I was wondering when I would hear from you. Kinda hard to text you when I don’t have your number ;)”

You fell back on your bed, sighing. All you were picturing through the phone was the compilation of photos of Kate that you had seen minutes prior.

This would either end exactly like you wanted, or break your heart into a million pieces. You were willing to take your chances.

Over the next couple months, you and Kate had been together regularly. Whether it was going out to a new bar, watching a school game, or coming over to your apartment. Everyone had grown tired of your incessant babbling about Kate’s but you couldn’t help it—there was nothing like her. Of course, you still hadn’t gotten much closer to getting what you really wanted. What you really wanted was her.

You unfortunately had to listen to her talk over and over again about her failed love interests. You would always listen to everything she had to say, but it didn’t make you want to kiss her until she forgot every guy's name any less.

There had been moments— brief moments. They usually happened when Kate was upset or she was inebriated, but you would take anything.

The first time it happened it caught you by surprise. You had known her to be flirty and psychical from the first night you met her, but you didn’t expect her to follow through as much as she did.

Kate was over at your apartment which wasn’t unusual, but it was the way things played out. She came over in her comfiest clothes that somehow still made you swoon over her. Nat, Yelena, and Valkyrie were out drinking and were planning to come back anytime.

You and Kate were out in the living room watching a movie on the couch. It was getting late and you were watching the way her eyelids were threatening to flutter closed. It was often that you found yourself staring at Kate, just when she wasn’t looking of course.

When her eyes closed, her head gently began falling towards your shoulder. Then, all at once, Kate was leaning against you while she slept, leaving you frozen. It was what you always wanted, even if it was unintentional. You held your breath, hoping that if you stopped completely that time would stand still, leaving you here with her against you.

Your heart stopped when you heard the key turn in the door. The three women walked in the door laughing and you tried to shush them as much as possible. They turned around and looked between you and Kate.

“Oh my god,” Valkyrie mouthed. You put your finger up to your mouth to quiet them if that was even possible.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Nat whispered.

Each of them giggled and tripped over their own feet, Yelena running into the wall as she tried to make it back to her bedroom. You shook your head at their behavior and looked back down at Kate who was still sleeping. It took everything in you not to touch her, all you could do was admire her from a distance.

Then, of course, there had been other instances of suspicious behavior. Like when Kate would dance unashamedly with you for everyone to see. All you wanted was to be seen with her in that way, but you knew it wasn’t reciprocated.

Lastly, there was the night that Kate got inexplicably drunk. Overall, Kate knew how to hold her liquor well, but that night sent her over the edge for reasons you couldn’t completely understand.

You helped her get home to her own apartment because you knew she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own. Her arm was wrapped around your shoulder as you led her inside and into her bedroom.

“Alright Kate, you have to help me out a little,” you groaned. Carrying dead weight didn’t suit you very well. You were able to place her down on the bed where she fell back against it immediately. “Please be careful.”

Kate managed to sit up on her own and held her arms out towards you. “Help?”

You looked at her and the way she was carrying herself. It looked like she needed help undressing, which made your heart leap into your throat.

“What do you need help with?” you asked, just to be sure.

“Off please.”

You were correct. Under different circumstances this would be your dream, but right now you were worried about her. You put your feelings aside as you lifted her shirt and took off her pants gently. You turned away quickly to give her space, as well as fold her clothes and place them on her dresser. You were prepared to leave until her voice called out.

“Stay with me… please.”

Your heart swelled. Then, you turned back around to see her laying under her blanket, leaving space for you to slide in. “Only for a little bit.”

Kate smiled sleepily and lifted up the blanket for you to crawl in. You apprehensively got comfortable beside Kate, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, even if you two were clearly past that.

Though you didn’t get close, Kate didn’t hesitate. She rolled closer to you and wrapped her arm around your waist. There was a pause before she grabbed her elephant plushie that you had gotten as a gift for her. There was something so enduring about her gesture, something that made you want to hold on tighter to her. She went further and laid her head in the nape of your neck. You were paralyzed in the moment.

You brushed it off as Kate being drunk out of her mind, but there was another part of you that was curious. Maybe this is what it took for her to open up and show her true feelings?

You would never know because you knew by morning that Kate wouldn’t remember the moment the two of you shared. But that was weeks ago and neither one of you brought it up again.

Tonight, everyone was gone doing their own thing and you were alone. You would usually text Kate, but you didn’t want to make things weird after your last hang out. Not that Kate would remember, but you didn’t want to ruin what you had going.

So it was just you and your favorite show in the background while you cooked. Anytime you had a moment alone, you liked to cook something nice for yourself. Sure, you liked cooking for others too, but there was something pleasurable about cooking just fir you.

You decided on an easy pasta dish with vodka sauce. Everything was finished and it was time to plate when there was a knock on your door. You wiped your hands off on a towel and made your way to the door. As it opened, Kate was waiting on the other side.

“I know I didn’t call-”

“Come in,” you interjected and Kate smiled.

“I wasn’t sure if you were home, but I thought I would swing by.” Kate took her coat off at the door and took liberty to hang it on the coat rack. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Do I ever really know?” you chuckled. “They’re all supposed to be back sometime after midnight for reasons they did not share.”

“Why would they ever.”

It was then that you noticed her outfit and scanned her frame. “And where have you been looking like that?”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know it’s a lot, but it was a banquet for a family function. My mom doesn’t like when I dress myself, for a lack of better words.”

Kate was wearing a tight silk dress that dropped down and hugged her curves. Though you liked Kate’s usual look, you could get used to this more often.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m into it.”

Kate blushed. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I left it on for you to admire.” You smiled and walked back into the kitchen and Kate made herself comfortable on one of the barstools.

“You want some?” you offered. Kate shook her head and you went back as normal. “You’re really missing out, it’s everyone’s favorite dish of mine.”

Kate didn’t speak for a minute, leaving an uncomfortable silence. “Something’s been on my mind lately and I need some advice,” she said.

You turned around with concern on your face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I- I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms, watching and listening for Kate to continue.

“I don’t know, there’s this thought in the back of my mind and I need to know if I’m right or not. I really like this person and I think they may like me back, but I don’t know how to approach them about it or even how to make a move.”

You were confused. Kate had never asked for dating advice before for obvious reasons. You didn’t know how to help her when it came to guys.

“I mean I know guys are different from girls in that respect, but if I were you I would just be real with them. Let them know how you feel and if they take it, good, if they don’t, you can let yourself be down about it but eventually you’ll move on.”

Kate had an unusual look about her. You had never seen it but it almost looked to be…longing?

“I just don’t know if she wants me like that.”

Your legs felt uneasy below you and you could tell that your face showed your surprise. You couldn’t get over the ‘she’ in her sentence.

Both of you stared at each other for a long time. Kate was frozen in her seat, leaving you to make the next move. You hoped that you were right or else this would make everything much more complicated.

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked around to be standing beside Kate. “Who said I didn’t want you?”

Kate’s eyes softened when she looked at you. You could practically see the relief pool into her blue eyes. You felt your relief all the same when you saw her reaction.

“I was just scared I guess. After that night in my bed-”

“Hold on, you remember that?”

Kate smirked. “I wouldn’t have asked you in my bed if I wouldn’t remember it.”

In this moment, Nat’s words replayed in your mind. All you need is one chance.

Your chance was now.

You moved forward quickly, wrapping your hands around each side of Kate’s neck and pulling her towards you. Your lips crashed into hers softly and it was everything you had been waiting so patiently for.

Kate stood up from the stool and met you in the middle. Her arms wrapped around your neck and pulled you in closer. Your thumbs caressed her cheeks as Kate’s tongue pushed into your mouth. You let her in and taste you. You whimpered as Kate deepened the kiss while also simultaneously pulling away breathless.

“What about your food?”

You stared at her and shook your head. “Forget the food. I want you.”

Kate gasped as you slid your hands behind her thighs and under her dress to lift her onto the counter. You wanted to have her just like this— between her legs and at your mercy.

Your hands snaked up Kate’s toned arms and up to her shoulders without taking your lips away from hers. Your fingers fidgeted with the straps of her dress, wanting more than anything to rip them off and see her beauty beneath.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

“Y/n, respectfully, I just need you to fuck me.”

Without another word you pulled the straps of her dress down her arms which Kate slipped out of quickly. You dragged your hands up Kate’s bare back feeling of her soft skin. You wanted to savor the moment and take it slow, but fuck, that was overrated.

Kate’s hands were buried in your hair, tugging and pulling at her pleasure. While your lips were still locked, your curious hand slid to Kate’s front and took her nipple in between your fingers.

You thought you might faint when you heard the noises coming from Kate’s mouth. It only motivated you more.

Even though you could kiss Kate forever, there was something else that occupied your thoughts that you couldn’t get out of your head.

You abandoned her lips, moving your own down the side of her neck and down her chest. You took your time to leave small marks along the bottom side of her breasts— somewhere no one else could see but a place you knew was yours.

You went down further. Your lips kissed down Kate’s stomach and at the same time you grabbed Kate’s dress that had gathered around her. You gingerly pulled the dress off once Kate lifted her hips off the counter. The sight alone quickened your heart rate even more.

Kate changed positions to your liking. She lowered herself onto her arms so they were resting on the counter. She peered down at you through lustful eyelids.

You bit your lip and didn’t hesitate to pull off her underwear too, throwing them somewhere off into the distance. You couldn’t wait any longer to resist yourself from Kate, so you gave in.

Your two fingers slipped through Kate’s pussy, delicately taking your time to feel her. Kate whimpered and threw her head back.

“Fuck, Katie,” you breathed out. “You’re so wet.”

“Please, I just need you to touch me.”

“Anything you want, princess.”

Without another word you were buried between her legs. You kissed the top of her clit before your tongue dragged up the length of her cunt. Kate was a moaning mess up top which only added more fuel to your fire.

Your tongue moved in all directions to pull beautiful sounds from Kate’s mouth, but you wanted more. Your right hand moved from her thigh to the inside of her legs. You took care to gently slide one finger inside her while your lips were still wrapped around her clit. Your finger moved at a quick rhythm, making Kate’s lips move at the same pace as your hand.

“You feel so good,” Kate whimpered. “Keep going, I’m getting close.”

You took this as an incentive to slide another finger inside. Your pace quickened as you were trying to drag Kate to her climax. Between her moans and Kate’s wetness collecting around your fingers, this all felt like a dream.

“I wanna hear you, let it out Katie,” you instructed her. She followed quickly behind your words, her high crashing down and soaking your mouth and fingers all the same. You helped her ride out her high by slowing your fingers down and leaving soft pecks on her inner thighs.

You worked your way up her body until you were face to face. Kate pulled you down by your neck and kissed you, sliding her tongue into your mouth, tasting herself.

“That was even better than how I imagined it,” you said before thinking.

“Oh yeah? How did you imagine it before?” Kate inquiried.

“I prefer to keep that to myself. Now, how about I get you some clothes and we can eat this room temperature food?”

Kate smiled and nodded before you helped her off the counter. You found sweatpants and a shirt in your room that you offered to her which she gladly took. Once you were both cleaned up, you went back into the living room to cuddle up on the couch.

You laid down first to get comfortable before Kate laid beside you and scooted in close. “It’s kind of nice doing this when I know you’ll remember it,” you smiled.

“I told you, I knew what I was doing. I wanted you in my bed.”

You settled in and started playing with Kate’s hair. Months ago you never would’ve thought you would be in this position with Kate, but everything seemed too good to be true. That’s why you were unphased when the door to the apartment opened and your roommates came piling in.

“I really thought that girl was going to- oh hi you two,” Valkyrie paused.

“Don’t mind us, just passing through,” Nat smiled.

“I’m not. I need something to eat before I get cranky,” Yelena said. “Pasta!”

“Oh that’s for-”

“God this is delicious,” Yelena cut you off. “Have you ever tried this? It’s so good.”

Kate shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure yet.” She looked knowingly at you and laughed.

Yelena walked further into the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. Her body was out of frame when she bent over to look down at the floor. When she was upright again her face held a curious frown.

“Did someone lose some…panties?” Yelena held up a pair of purple lace underwear for everyone to see.

Kate slowly pulled the blanket over her face, trying her best to hide the redness that had spread. Everyone looked towards you with a knowing smirk and burst into laughter.

It was fitting that a perfect night with Kate would end like this. It ended just like it had started with Kate, and that was all you could ask for.

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dirtyvulture · 2 years ago

Text

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.

“You want to come over to my place later?” Natasha whispers in your ear.

“No, not really.” You lean over the railing of the balcony, watching as your recruits tackle the muddy obstacle course in groups of five. “Fitz, Hunter, don’t leave your teammate behind like that!” 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.

“Yes, Sergeant!” they yell back, meekly turning around and offering their hands to the female.

“Why not?” Natasha sounds shocked you would refuse an offer to be in bed with her. But you still haven’t forgotten her comments at the dinner party.

“I have to catch up on some stuff,” you lie.

Natasha frowns, but she doesn’t push the issue.

***********************************************************************

You’re 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.

You notice her, but make no acknowledgement of her.

“Maximoff told me he wants to apply to be a sergeant,” Sam Wilson sitting next to you says. “He was asking what you studied to pass your test.”

“Well, if someone like me can pass, then he shouldn’t have to study at all,” you respond, just loud enough for Natasha to hear.

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.

“Hi,” she says in a small voice.

“Why are you here?” you dismiss, walking past her to your closet.

“You’re mad at me,” she says.

“I’m not…mad…” 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. “Um, Sergeant?” you ask.

“I’m not your sergeant right now,” Natasha says, and this is the first time you’ve 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.

“I just want to be your Nat right now.”

“My Nat?” you repeat, as if you didn’t 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. “Are you sure you don’t want to–” you start, but Natasha quiets you with a kiss, unbuttoning her jeans and kicking them off.

“I want you right here,” she says, brushing her hands down your sides before grabbing the hem of her shirt and removing it.

“I lied. I was a little mad at you,” you confess in a jumble as Natasha holds onto your hips and pulls you down so your cock rubs against her stomach.

“You had every right to be.”

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.

“Can I…” you start to pant, your fantasies getting the best of you.

“Of course.”

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.

“F-Fuck, Sergeant,” you say, and Natasha corrects you with a click of her tongue. “I…I mean, Nat. You feel so fucking good.”

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.

“Keep going, Y/N. Just like that,” 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. It’s almost like sliding through wet silk; there’s no resistance and only a delicious warmth that makes your head spin.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Natasha moans and you feel her walls tighten around your cock, causing you to increase your strength to fill her deeply.

“Do you want me to pull out?” you gasp, slowing just enough to wait for an answer.

“Cum inside of me,” she says, locking her ankles around your lower back so you couldn’t pull out even if you wanted to.

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.

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

AN: Safe to say they’re made up? 🤔

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #sergeant beef au #natasha romanoff x reader

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starsofmilos · 6 months ago

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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.

#logan howlet x reader #logan wolverine #logan howlett #x men movies #wolverine x reader

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justevelynnnn · 5 months ago

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Magic🍃

Summary: Scott has a headache so you offer him something w/ “magic” to help

Content: Scott summers x Mutant!Fem Reader

Warnings: mentioning of weed infused brownies and them being consumed & a couple of swears…

A/N: I got this idea from somewhere but I can’t remember where…it was on here actually and I was like omg I have to write this ! Ugh I love him so much….

You and Rogue made “brownies” 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 three’s secret even though Xavier himself literally already knew, he just didn’t 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 who’d lecture you for hours about the negative effects. Or…Scott.

The leader made it clear he was a by the book guy. Neat, serious, a rule follower ….whatever. Point was, he didn’t 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. He’s muttering something odd. Concerned, you go over to him. Maybe it’s because of the edible that he seems this way? He’s mumbling gibberish. His energy is off. Really off. You just hope that he can’t see how there’s a tint of red in your eyes.

“Hey…Scott? Youuuu okay?” you ask. You lift a hand to touch him but he suddenly looks up at you a bit, startled like he didn’t hear you approaching, which caused you to bring your hand back quickly.

“M’fine.” He says, almost in a groan. He puts his head back down and asks, “Did you need anything?”

“No..just…checking in on you?” You don’t know why it came out as a question.

He says nothing.

It’s 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 you’re still here. It was very unlike him to act like this. This is the first time you’ve seen him in such a pained, awkward state.

It hurt even more because he was secretly your..crush? You guess that’s the best way to describe it. It wasn’t crazy. Maybe you just admired him a lot as a strong leader. Maybe it was his good looks…. maybe. You just really hoped it was a phase. It didn’t 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 didn’t 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 Scott’s hands caught in his hair. It definitely seems like he’s getting worse. You hoped he accept this and not scold you and kick you off the freaking team or something.

“Hey…um, I brought you something…” You say, sitting next to him.

He lifts his head again and looks in your hands. “Water and….a brownie…?”

He says it low, like he almost was thinking out loud. He’s clearly confused.

“It..um..it has something in it that I think will help you…”

His hands are in his lap now and he’s 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 he’s skeptical.. or maybe he is.

“It’s good, but how will this help?” 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. You’re scared of the possibility of him lashing out that you just secretly fed him cannabis.

It’s a couple of seconds before you answer. “They’re justtt, special.”

“Special how?”

“There’s something inside that will help you relax….”

Silence.

“….But, how?”

The question come out a bit sharp, you assume he wants a straight answer but also wonder how he can’t get the hint or has no idea seemingly. You can’t blame him though, why would he suspect a team member to be in possession of weed?

You sigh as you prepare for the worst.

“They have… weed inside.”

Scott slowly turns his head at you. He’s smiling weird. You accidentally clench the water bottle and out the corner of your eye you see some plants move around you two.

“…..What.”

You just stare nervously at his blank smile. You can’t ever really read him or his expressions sometimes but he’s definitely annoyed. Probably mad. Hopefully not furious. Definitely not happy.

It spills out of you. “I’m…I’m 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-”

“Hey.”

You stop. You feel a tear slipping from your eye.

“It’s okay.”

Your mouth drops. “W-what?”

“It’s fine. It’s not posion.”

You’re still frozen as Scott grabs the bottle. He’s…okay? Maybe you had too much of the brownies earlier….

“You’re…okay..? But, you hate weed! You said you-”

“I know.” He takes a weirdly large gulp of water. “But you had good intentions. So it’s fine.”

You’re still in shock from his nonchalance. Maybe he’s gonna yell later. Maybe he didn’t really understand that you just gave him a drug that he’s 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 you’re hallucinating.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Or even, Scott…?”

He laughs at this but quickly winces. “Yes, I’m Scott. It’s just my head is making it hard to care about much right now.”

“Soooo, I’m not in trouble?”

“Professor knows about your sneaky behaviors already, y/n. Did you forget he can read minds? See through walls?” Shit.

You look down sighing. “Nothing gets past him. Seriously.”

“Nope.” Scott leans back on his hands. “But since he’s okay with it, so am I. Plus, Rogue told me last week.”

“Ughhhhh!” Embarrassed you put your head in your hands. Or course, Xavier & Scott knew. How could you be so dumb?

“So, when do these kick in? Sure could use it right now….” Scott looks at you smiling again. He’s amused at your embarrassment.

“It takes awhile…maybe another 40 minutes…?” You say looking away. You can’t look him in the eyes or, well, eye right now.

He laughs again. He believes it’s a placebo that’s making it seem like his headache is fading already because normally he wouldn’t be able to even move right now.

“Y’know…you’re kinda cute flustered..”

He says it so quiet you almost don’t hear it. Shocked you look back at him.

“What? Cute?”

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? You’re 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 shouldn’t be too affected. Just enough. He’s slouched on the bench now, it’s honestly a very rare sight to see him slouched…well, anywhere. He’s 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 they’re red now like yours. Deep down you’re just glad you could help him and his pain ease. And you’re a lot happy that you’re 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 there’s a slight breeze.

“Y’knowwww? You’re reallyyyy pretty…and kind….i like you, y/n…” He says it slow with that same smile.

You struggle to respond with anything more than, “Thanks, Scott…” because oh my god?!? Holy shit?? Scott Summers just said he thinks you’re pretty. This evening couldn’t 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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lunarw0rks · 2 years ago

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Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style ♡♡♡ 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??? ♡

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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 to— fuck— 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 — 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 — 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 — 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.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━♡━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ divider cred. - cafekitsune ｡･:*:･

#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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fanficlolsblog · 6 months ago

Text

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 isn’t 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 arm’s length.

as you sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone, you couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing together.

deciding you couldn’t 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 astrid’s 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.

“hey! you made it!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug.

“yeah, thought i’d check in on you. what’s going on?” you replied, trying to sound casual even though your heart was pounding.

“just hanging out with jeremy,” she said nonchalantly, stepping back to let you in. “you remember him, right?”

you nodded, forcing a smile. “of course. nice guy.” 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. “hey, y/n! good to see you,” he said, lifting his drink in a casual salute.

“hey, jeremy,” 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 couldn’t deny the jealousy bubbling up inside you; it made you feel small and unimportant.

just then, jeremy’s voice drifted into the kitchen. “so, astrid, you never told me about y/n. are you two close?”

“oh, we’re super close,” astrid replied, her tone light and playful. “y/n is like the best person ever.”

“oh, really? then why are you hanging out with me?” jeremy teased, nudging her with his elbow.

you felt a strange twist in your gut at the easy camaraderie they shared. it wasn’t 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.

“i don’t know,” she responded with a playful shrug. “sometimes you need a little chaos, you know?”

you couldn’t 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.

“y/n, you alright?” astrid’s 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.

“yeah, just thinking,” you replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“come on, join us,” 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 didn’t 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 astrid’s lips made your stomach churn. it wasn’t that you didn’t want her to be happy; it was that you couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in a moment that should have included you.

after a while, you decided to excuse yourself. “i’m gonna step out for some fresh air,” you said, standing up.

“want me to come with?” astrid asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of distress.

“no, it’s fine. just need a moment,” 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. “are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine concern.

“i’m fine,” you replied, trying to dismiss the turmoil inside you.

“you don’t look fine,” she said, crossing her arms.

“it’s just… i don’t know. you seem happy with jeremy, and i’m happy for you, i am,” you started, your voice faltering. “it just feels different, that’s all.”

“different how?” she pressed, her gaze unwavering.

you hesitated, weighing your words carefully. “like you’re not the same astrid when you’re with him. it’s like… i don’t know, you seem to forget about me.”

her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “i promise that’s not true. jeremy is just… different, you know? he’s fun and easy to be around.”

“and i’m not?” you shot back, your emotions spilling out.

“that’s not what i meant! you know that,” she said, her voice rising slightly.

“then what do you mean?” you challenged, your heart racing. “because it feels like you’re choosing him over me.”

the tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating. astrid’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the world around you fading away.

“i’m not trying to choose,” she finally said, her voice low. “i just… i don’t know what i want right now.”

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.

“you don’t know what you want?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“no, and it scares me,” she admitted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i care about you, y/n, but i don’t know how to navigate this… whatever this is between us.”

“it’s not fair to me, astrid,” you said, feeling your voice shake. “i want to be more than just a friend. i want to be there for you, but it feels like i’m competing for your attention.

her expression shifted, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. “i never wanted you to feel that way. i’m sorry if i’ve made you feel like you’re not important to me.”

“it’s not just that,” you admitted, the weight of your feelings crashing down on you. “i’ve liked you for a long time, and watching you with someone else… it hurts.”

“wait, what?” she said, taking a step back, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“yeah,” you confessed, feeling your heart race. “i thought you knew. i thought it was obvious.”

a moment of silence stretched between you two, the realization hanging heavy in the air. astrid’s gaze softened, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability in her expression.

“i didn’t know you felt that way,” she whispered. “i thought you were just being a good friend.”

“i wish it was that simple,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “but it’s not.”

the tension in the air shifted, and astrid took a step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said softly.

“i know,” you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. “but it’s hard to watch you with someone else when i feel this way.”

“i need time to think,” she said finally, pulling her hand away. “but i don’t want to lose you.”

“then don’t,” you urged, desperation creeping into your voice. “don’t let this come between us.”

“i won’t,” she promised, her eyes searching yours. “i just need to figure things out.”

you nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. “okay.”

just then, jeremy’s voice called out from inside, interrupting the moment. “everything okay out there?”

“yeah, we’re good!” 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. “let’s go back inside,” 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.

“you guys good?” jeremy asked, his expression casual, but you could tell he was aware of the underlying tension.

“just talking,” astrid replied, her voice steady.

“cool, cool,” he said, taking a sip of his soda. “what do you want to do next?”

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 couldn’t 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.

“hey,” you whispered, leaning in closer.

“yeah?” she replied, turning to face you.

“do you think we could talk again later? just you and me?”

“i’d like that,” she said, her voice soft and sincere.

“good,” 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 wouldn’t be left wondering what could have been any longer.

#Spotify #jenna ortega x you #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz x you #imagine #gxg #wlw #fanfic

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prettygirl-gabi · 9 months ago

Text

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. He’s 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 everyone—except 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. It’s a modest space, but it’s 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 can’t 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.

It’s 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 it’s 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.

We’re immersed in a full-blown flour fight within seconds, laughter echoing off the kitchen walls. He’s 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 I’ve 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 I’ve wanted to ask you," he says softly, his thumb lingering on my skin.

My heart skips. "What’s that?"

"Why is it," he begins, his voice barely a murmur, "that out of all the annoying people in the world, I don’t 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 you’re 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. You’re 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. It’s 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."

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

Dividers : by ioveartfilm

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underneath-your-lies · 3 months ago

Note

Hii! Okie dokie so I really need help! So I wanna attract a man like a manly man like someone strong and dominant and I dunno how! I’m still young (18) but I want something long term and I’m super feminine at least I think so? I dunno what to do maybe appearance wise or personality or just habits I should do cause I wanna have like such a cute little intimate and domestic relationship with proper gender roles in place ya know? It’s just like soooo hard! Please and thank you!!💕💕

Little Kitten, this Ask has no business being this cute, especially in front of a nasty controlling animal like Me.

Alright, I'll give a mellow answer. If anyone else wants an answer more aligned with the real Me (what's on My blog), ask away.

First of all, you're already doing well. You know what you want and are aiming at it, that's very important in romantic endeavors. I also bet you already have a cute, feminine bubbly little streak in you. Most girls your age don't have such a good grasp on themselves and their desires.

Attracting that kind of guy is a matter of leaning into your femininity. It's like complementary energies: the more feminine, demure and sweet you become, the more you'll attract a Man who's got a strong instinct to protect and a dominating leader streak.

The other important thing that I can't stress enough is to know how to distinguish between posture and substance. Women in general, and young girls especially, are susceptible to men who put up a front, who talk and portray themselves as confident and experienced, but lack a spine or maturity. Since you're emotional and lack rationality, a guy who can stir up your emotions in the right way (cocky banter, teasing and flirting then ignoring you, etc.) will get you to obsess over him and give more credit to his words than what would be wise. Here's a rule of thumb: pay attention to their actions, past and present, more than their words. It'll be hard for you at your age, especially while dealing with emotions, but it's necessary. If a man's actions and words don't match, it's a bad sign. It'll conversely be a good way to detect someone who's truly a Man of His word: strong, responsible, experienced, family-oriented, etc.

Practical advice for this little good girl:

A) Appearance:

Dress feminine (according to your budget of course): no baggy jeans, no "baggy-sweatpants-and-hoodies-and-walking-shoes-because-it's-sooo-practical-and-comfy", etc. Your style is feminine in its different declinations, cute-sexy-elegant-"slutty when He wants it". Dresses (sundresses, body fitting ones, etc), skirts, heels/girly shoes or boots, blouses, elegant knitwear, etc. Take inspiration from social media or tradwife Tumblrs.

Take care of yourself: diet, exercise, hair, skin, don't go too heavy on the make up and nails (keep it natural looking), etc.

B) Personality:

Sweet, kind, respectful: towards everybody (I often pay attention to how people treat staff at a restaurant or cashiers, etc. How you treat people you don't want anything from says a lot about you), don't trash talk or gossip others (of course, if you're in the right, you can confide in Him), be interested and engaged in the conversation, ask Him questions about what He seems to be passionate about or proud of in His life, don't talk endlessly or nag Him, don't question Him about where He goes and who He sees.

Smile and follow Him: a dominant Man will spontaneously lead, you just have to welcome it and show appreciation for His efforts and the thought He puts into them. It goes a long way.

Nurturing and soothing and agreeable: instead of needlessly confrontational and opinionated (no, that's not "having a personality" or being intelligent or being "your own person", that's just seeming insecure and rage-filled. You can discuss while being open and friendly. Moreover, you don't need to discuss complicated matters, it's a turn off and He'll value other Men's opinions if He needs input, keep it bubbly and listen).

Express your interest in old-fashioned/traditional gender role: it might be difficult for you to discuss it with other girls (I'd advise you not to if your environment is too brainwashed, until you can detect that one of them is also a good girl), but I mean that you can give hints to the Man: tell Him that you like how He takes charge and lead, that you like supporting and pleasing and relying on your Man, that you like a Masculine Man. He'll get the hint. If He seems like He shares your views, you will then be more upfront.

Communicate on sex: at your age, there's a lot of miscommunication happening and both sides walk on eggshells and end up frustrated. Despite your lack of experience, show that you consider it an important part of a relationship and that you want to work hard to satisfy Him and understand His needs.

C) Habits:

Learn to cook and clean: and get better at it. Learn how to meal-prep for the week (handy for you, and will be appreciated by a Man who works out [I can vouch]), try a recipe every week and invite a friend to share the meal, and serve them (according to your budget, of course. Being savvy with money and knowing how to grocery shop on a budget is a useful skill for a homemaker). Learn to iron a Man's shirt. In general, learn to serve, you'll find pleasure and purpose in it, it's hardwired into a woman's nature.

Follow some Tumblr Tradwife/Tradgirl/Stepford wife blogs: for ideas about behaviors ( welcoming Him back home/supporting Him emotionally, etc.), speech, aesthetic, etc.

Seek out that Man according to what you imagine Him to be: if you like a Man who's physically strong, hang out with your Male friends who work out and have a personality you like because they might have friends who are like them and who will charm you, apply this to any traits/habits you'd like Him to have (smart, outdoorsy, etc.)

Be patient: If you want something long term, be a good girl and wait and seek. It only needs to work once. It's hard to come by such natural relationships nowadays, but He'll come along.

Good girl.

You can reach out to Me through DMs if you have specific questions.

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

Text

The Menu | Part 4

“splinters in his knuckles bangin’ on your door”

A/N: remember that meme I posted earlier about how this was supposed to just be a silly little smut fic? Yeahhh about that..🥴

~word count: 6.3k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel goes a little berserk after he doesn’t 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, (they’re kinda toxic but it’s complicated) hurt feelings, angst, some fluff, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her late 20’s) 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 didn’t show up to your ‘job’ 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 Joel’s table while Joel’s fingers fucked you to ruin. He had to start somewhere, right?

“Y’got a minute?” Joel asked casually as he shoved his ration cards into the pocket of his jeans.

“Shoot.” Benjamin, better known as Benji, what the fuck kinda name is that.

“Y’seen Angel around this mornin?’ She’s usually out here with me. Didn’t show up.”

“Nope.” Benji responded smoothly.

Joel’s brow raised as he studied the other man’s face intently. He was looking for any clues, any indication that maybe this Benji fellow had something to do with your bizarre absence.

“Right. Well, if ya see her, tell ‘er Joel’s lookin’ for her.” 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.

“Well, well, well. Whad’we have here?” Benji stepped out from the shadows of the darkly lit alleyway as a FEDRA patrol vehicle drove by.

“One hour past curfew, Angel. That’s a deduction of cards, and a night in lockup.” He tsked.

Your face scrunched inwards, as if you had tasted something pungent and sour. “Benji? Fuck. C’mon, man. Just let me pass on through. It’ll be like I was never here.” 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.

“Can’t do that, Angel.” He sighed.

“My name is not Angel. And yes, you can. Just pretend that you never saw me.”

“Oh.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his concealed handgun. “So, I guess buddy boy can call you Angel, but I can’t?”

For fuck sakes.

“Christ, is that what this is about? Who has the bigger dick? What, are you jealous or somethin?’” 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.

“Jealous? Now, why would I be jealous, Angel? Ain’t you just a common street whore? You’ll 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 ‘round here knows he’s your guard dog. Where is he now, hm?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Look, Benji, you’re a good lookin’ guy and all that, but I fucked you out of spite. I’ll stroke your ego or whatever, but can I please just fuckin’ go home now?” 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?

“Turn around. Hands against the wall. No sudden movements.” 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.

“Benji—is that really necessary?” You tried to reason with him, but your attempts were fruitless.

“I said turn the fuck around and put your hands against the goddamn wall. Don’t make me ask you a third time, Angel. I ain’t have all night.” His jaw ticked impatiently.

“Okay. Okay. You don’t have to ask me again.” 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.

“That’s right. Because that Joel Miller sure turned you into an obedient little cockslut, didn’t he?” Benji chuckled deeply against the shell of your ear. His hot breath on your skin sent a wave of nausea crawling up your throat.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Benji.” 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.

“Oh, now what do we have here?” 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.

“Those aren’t mine.” Well, that was dumb.

“No? Hmm. You’re not good at this whole lyin’ game, Angel. Let’s see what else we got here.” He pulled out your gun from the belt loop of your jeans along with tinfoil wrapped cigarettes; fresh ones that Joel had rolled you.

“Well, my dear, you’re lookin’ at about a week in lockup just from this alone. Unless..” he trailed off knowing exactly what you’d offer him in return.

“You’re sick, y’know that?” You scoffed under your breath. Men really did only ever think with their dicks.

“Jus’ doin’ my job, Angel. So, what’re you gonna offer me, hmm? Make it good and I’ll only throw you in there for a day. Sounds fair?”

“Right. Your job at bein’ a fuckin’ rat? I’ll give you a blowie, right here, right now. I think that seems pretty fair, don’t you?” The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to go home.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment, as if he really had to think hard on your offer. “Deal. But I want you to act enthusiastic this time, and take your tits out. I’m gonna paint them and your face in my come, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ take it, and if you don’t?” He flipped you around swiftly, caging you against the wall as he brought the barrel of the gun right against your temple, “I’ll spray your brains out right against this fuckin’ wall.”

This wasn’t the first time you had been threatened by a man in the QZ, and it certainly wouldn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“Sure, you’ll be the first to know if I’ve seen her, Miller.” He nodded.

Something about Benji, and his stupid face, sent Joel’s 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.

“Look, before you go thinkin’ about doin’ somethin’ reckless, did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s just in her apartment? She could have slept in—”

He cut her off sharply with a quick shake of his head. “Sleepin’ in? Really, is that all Y’got for me, Tess? I knew she should have just fuckin’ spent the night. She’s 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. She’s so hot’n cold!” 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. “Or, better yet, I should have just walked her home myself!”

“Texas, you’re actin’ fuckin’ insane right now! Pacin’ the goddamn apartment like a dog. Ripping your hair out?!” Just calm the fuck down for a second. Take some deep breaths, have a smoke or somethin’ and then let’s both think rationally.” She tried to reason with him. All this got her in return was a narrowed glare, a scoff and an eye roll.

“She could be fuckin’ dead, Tess! What if somethin’ happened between her leavin’ here last night and walkin’ back to her place?”

“I highly doubt she’s 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 askin’ around.” She pushed herself off the side of the counter just as his pacing came to a complete standstill.

“Sure, yeah. Go ahead and ask around. But, before you do that, I need ya to tell me where Angel lives. I’m aware that you know, and that she doesn’t want me to know, but you’re gonna tell me either way.” He stated as a matter of factly.

“Joel, she doesn’t want you knowing where she lives for obvious reasons. How about you stay here, and I’ll go to her apartment. Like I said, I’m sure she’s just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, those reasons are irrelevant as of right now. So, quit your little girl code you got goin’ on with her or whatever, and tell me where the fuck her apartment is.”

Tess didn’t even bother to argue. She knew Joel long enough to know that he wasn’t going to stop until he found that you were safe. Otherwise, the unknown and the ‘what ifs’ would eat him alive, literally.

“You’re fuckin’ relentless, Texas. Y’know that?” 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. “She’s on the third floor at the very end of the hall.”

“Yep. You damn right I am, Tess. You know me too well.” 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.

“I’ll be needing that back, Texas.” Tess reminded him.

“And I’ll be bringin’ it right back as soon as I find her.” 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.

“Yeah, well, you’re losin’ daylight. Better go find that Angel of yours.”

“Better me than anyone else.” 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.

“Swear to god when I find this girl..” 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 fuckin’ 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. He’d much prefer when things were yanked off like a bandaid. Quick and mostly painless.

He triple checked Tess’s 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 we’re all white noise to Joel.

When he found himself standing outside your door, he scoffed at the faded “Welcome :)” 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.

“Angel? Y’in there, doll?” He asked through the thin wood.

Silence.

“Look, I’m sorry if I said somethin’ to upset you last night, but I haven’t seen you all fuckin’ day, and I’m real worried that somethin’ bad happened to ya. So, if you’re in there, can you please say something?”

Nothing.

“Okay. 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 uh—out of affection? And if you’re upset that I asked ya to stay the night, then I’m sorry. It was just late and I wanted to—”

This is fucking stupid.

“Can you fuckin’ answer me, please? Just fuckin’ say something!” He growled, throwing his fists against the door once for good measure. “I’m about five seconds away from lookin’ like a complete and utter psychopath if you don’t open this goddamn door!” His frustration was on the cusp of boiling over, like a kettle on the stove.

“Okay, so we’re gonna play the silent game, huh?! I swear to god, Angel. If you’re behind this goddamn door and you’re ignoring me on purpose?! Good god, girl. You got another thing comin’ for ya!” He laughed, one of those unfriendly, chills down the spine, oh shit! I’m fucked kinda laughs.

Joel Miller had completely lost all remaining shreds of rationale.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of five to open this fuckin’ door, y’hear me?!” He snarled threateningly.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

He didn’t 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 couldn’t 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 ‘generous’ 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. Can’t 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 weren’t 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.

“Joel?”

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.

“Where in the fuck have you been? Do you know how fuckin’ worried I’ve been all goddamn day?! Huh, sweet girl? Do you have any idea—”

“You’re bleeding, sweet boy.” 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, ‘sweet boy.’

“Yeah, baby.” He huffs out a raspy laugh. “I’ve got splinters in my knuckles bangin’ on your door. Tore ‘em all up.”

He’s 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 shouldn’t be turned on—but that cunt of yours has a mind of her own, sometimes.

“Joel, you didn’t have to show up here like a crazy man and nearly go and break down my door.”

He glares, bloodstained thumb swiping across your lower lip. “Don’t tell me what I did and didn’t have to do, Angel. Haven’t seen you all day. Thought you were fuckin’ dead or somethin.’”

“Yeah, well, I’m not dead. I’m right here. Why the hell did you even care in the first place, huh? Can’t even go one day without losing your cool?” It’s 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. “Who said anythin’ about me caring, huh? Is that why you think I’m here, Angel? Cus’ I care?” He questioned, pushing you further into the wall. His chest was pressed right against yours, leaving you no room to escape, let alone breathe.

“Why would I give a damn where my whore on stilts wandered off to? Y’think you mean anythin’ to me other than a hole to fuck? Don’t be so naive.” He scoffed.

“You have got to be the worst fuckin’ liar, Joel. Right. You don’t care. You just happened to track down where I live, proceeded to bust down my door, just because I’m a hole for you to fuck? Right. Keep on telling yourself that, buddy boy. Keep livin’ in your delusions. See how far that gets ya.” 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 didn’t need Joel fucking Miller pushing you down further.

“That’s it? That’s all y’can say to me? No bite back? No fuck you Joel? What the hell happened to you, huh?” He pressed further, tightening his hold around your wrists. “What happened after you left my place last night, Angel?” His tone was much softer now, gentle, laced with concern.

You couldn’t keep up with his mood swings if you tried. Joel Miller was one hot and cold man.

“No. We are not about to do this again. Not when in one breath you’re a complete asshole, and the next?!” You laughed bitterly. “Joel, I’m fuckin’ 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 won’t take another minute of your bitching. Y’got that?”

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 weren’t budging, not even for him. What was that bit about him fucking hating the fear of the unknown? Oh, yeah.

“Angel, look..I’m—”

“Oh, fuck no. You are not about to apologize for that. No. You meant every word, Joel. You don’t get to take that back.” You shook your head in disappointment, breaking your wrists free from his gradually loosening grip before you pulled away entirely.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You didn’t even wait to see if he would follow you, you could care less if he did, or didn’t. With your keys in hand you unlocked your door, muttering about how it probably wouldn’t lock properly anymore from the damage Joel inflicted on it.

Joel’s 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.

“You should probably get your knuckles patched up.” You muttered under your breath while carelessly tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter.

“They’ll be alright. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He replied smoothly and shoved his hands into the deep caverns of the pockets on the front of his worn jeans.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” 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. “Are you offering to patch up my self-inflicted wounds, baby?” He asked in a crackling rasp, like logs on a fire.

“Sure. If that’s how you want to phrase it.” 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.

“Why?” 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.

“Are you really that fuckin’ stupid, Joel?” You wanted to laugh, but it came out more like a strained scoff if anything.

“‘Fraid so, my Angel.” He smirked over the rim of the cloudy glass.

“Guess the apocalypse shrunk men’s already pea sized brains even more.” 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.

“Sit” you commanded with a gesture to the closed toilet seat.

“Look, you really don’t have to do all this, it’s justa—”

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. “Okay, so then leave, Joel.”

His brows furrowed at your response, and his lips pursed tightly. He ultimately decided to plop down on the toilet seat with a huff. “Are you going to tell me where the hell you’ve been all day? Or are you just gonna keep avoidin’ my question?”

“If you’re good, then I’ll tell you. Cause frankly, right now? I’m sick of your shit, Joel. But somehow, some way, my cold cold heart has a shred of kindness left for you.”

He scoffed, resting his head back against the peeling wallpaper. “You’re sick of my shit?”

“Yes. Because you’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel. How many times am I going to repeat myself? Normal people don’t stalk someone, attempt to break down their door, and then demand to know where they’ve been all day!”

“Oh boy, we’re still on that topic?” He placed his bloodstained hands on his knees and shook his head before he sat back. “So, what would you rather me have done, hmm? Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he gestured with his hands, “it wasn’t like I could fuckin’ call you up! Do you see a phone in sight anywhere? No? Wow, I wonder why! It’s almost like we’re in a fuckin’ apocalypse!” 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 didn’t 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. “Did you just fuckin’ spray me like I’m a goddamn cat or somethin?!’” His voice boomed like an overhead crack of thunder unleashing its rage in a crescendo.

“I did.”

“And why the hell did you think that you could jus—go’n spray me in the face like that?!”

“You say an awful lot of stupid and hurtful shit to me, Joel Miller. You hurt my feelings, pissed me off, and I’ve just about had it. So, everytime you open that big fuckin’ mouth of yours and say somethin’ mean and stupid, I’m gonna spray you in the face with this.” 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. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were throwin’ a fuckin’ pity party ontop of all of this.” He scoffed.

“Did you not—” you laughed incredulously, “hear a goddamn word I just said? Fine. Well, let me remind you what happens when you’re fuckin’ stupid!” You sprayed him again.

This time he shut up..for now.

“Refreshing.” 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. “Let me see just what kinda damage you’ve done to your beautiful hands, Joel.” Your voice was much softer now compared to moments earlier. At least now you had him tamed and compliant.

“I didn’t break ‘em. Although, if you hadn’t shown up, I probably would have. And they ain’t beautiful, Angel. They’re ugly.” He gruffed out.

“They’re beautiful to me, Joel.” 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. “Yeah, you definitely have some splinters in there that are gonna have to come out.”

“Fuck no. Just leave ‘em.” 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. “Are you afraid of tweezers or somethin?’” You mused.

He scowled at your question and picked a spot on the wall to stare at so he didn’t have to make eye contact. “No.” He grumbled, jaw ticking under the dangling bathroom light.

“You sure about that?” 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.

“Crystal.” He confirmed.

“Ookay.” You did your best to hide your little grin while you held the disinfectant spray a few inches above his hands. “This might sting a little.” 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.

“You’re being an excellent patient for me, Mr. Miller. Maybe if you’re a good boy for the next part, I’ll reward you with a lollipop.”

He finally looked at you, tearing his gaze from the wallpaper to meet your eyes. His lips curved upwards into a small smirk. “Sounds wonderful, Doctor. Do you promise to be gentle?” He played along.

“Always, Joel.” 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. “Uh, will..you hold my hand? I lied about the tweezer thing. Splinters hurt like a bitch, and uh—yeah.” He muttered under his breath while the heat began to rise rapidly to his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned beet red.

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, Joel.” 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.

“This is stupid.” He said suddenly, feeling more bashful as the seconds ticked by.

“It’s not stupid at all, Joel. Splinters are no fun at all.”

I mean, This. Me and you. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be blushing like a schoolgirl right now. And over what? Holding hands? He thought to himself.

He’s kinda sweet..in his own Joel way. You thought silently to yourself.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

“Get on with it, please.” 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.

“I think you should let them breathe a bit longer and then we’ll bandage up.” You said while moving to stand back up. Your left hand was still engulfed in his own when he stopped you from standing up.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss them all better, doctor?” 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.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you out there, or are we gonna keep dancin’ around the subject?” He asked rather softly. Almost as if he was concerned.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Joel.”

Please don’t ask me again.

“Angel..”

“Let’s go finish our drinks.” 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 wasn’t 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 Joel’s 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.

“I really wish you would jus’..talk to me, sweetheart.” He rasped softly while he twiddled with his fingers that weren’t wrapped around the glass. He was never really good at having these types of conversations, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try one last time.

You shifted uncomfortably from his words. You didn’t want to tell him what happened to you in that disgusting alley. Or the way that Benji’s touch made you feel nauseous. You didn’t want to tell Joel that you were made to feel like literal human trash. Pond scum, gum beneath men’s shoes. You didn’t 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. Nothin’ but a common street whore, that one. Make her gag on it. I wanna see tears streaming down those pretty fuckin’ cheeks, boys. Miller ain’t here to save you now, Angel. You belong to us.

You didn’t want Joel to believe that you were this broken, damaged person. You didn’t 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, don’t be fooled boys. She loves to be fucked like a dirty little whore. Ain’t that right, Angel? Joel Miller got her all obedient, just for us. She’ll do anythin’ you ask of her.

“Angel.” 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.

Cus’ a whore is all you’ll ever be, sweetheart. The best pussy in all of the fuckin’ QZ. Bet he’ll smell me all over ya, Angel. I hope he does. I hope that guard dog can fuckin’ 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. He’s stunned and unsure what he should do in this situation. He’s never seen you like this before. He’s 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.

“Angel, baby. I don’t think we—” 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. “This doesn’t feel right, sweetheart.”

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. “You don’t..want me anymore, Joel?” 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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