#so this is either while she's still in her room and he's coming up to her to like. yell at break shit.
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ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° . * : r. cameron
synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ
warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah
other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k
You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.
There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.
Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.
Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.
And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.
This should be me, the thought burns like acid.
Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.
She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.
The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.
While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.
Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.
Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?
A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.
One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.
"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.
"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."
The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.
You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.
Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."
Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.
Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.
When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.
You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.
Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.
The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.
"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.
Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.
Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.
Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.
Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.
As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.
"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.
With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.
"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.
The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.
Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.
"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.
As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:
"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.
"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.
"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace.
Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you
Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.
You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.
"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"
Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.
"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."
You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.
"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"
"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.
You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.
With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.
The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.
"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."
"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"
He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.
You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."
Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.
Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.
a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾
taglist --
@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore
#crookedteethed#fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#fem reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#the obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe cameron x mistress!reader#older rafe cameron x fem reader#dilf rafe#dilf rafe cameron x reader#mistress!reader#(older)husband!rafe x mistress!reader#secret relationship#rafe x reader smut#obx smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey smut
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Bro holy fuck that JayVik Drabble was everything
Maybe you can do a fic where it’s JayVik x reader
(Plz be gender neutral, not fem reader ONLY 😭, male readers will love you istg)
and they aren’t public, like their relationship is still under wraps. But they fall asleep cuddled in the lab and Caitlyn and Vi come in for a hangout they were supposed to go to (like going to the lab to get the three and head off to their destination), and see the three cuddled up together, then teasing them with how cute they are after they wake up.
❤️
THANK GOD FOR JAYCE TALIS PT 2 - JAYVIK X READER
synopsis: Jayce has finally put his foot down in regards to the council, allowing for a more doable schedule. He gets to continue his councillor duties, but he also gets to see his two partners on a more daily basis; AND he gets to help with researching and trialing Hextech. The only thing is you’ve kept your relationship under wraps, and you’ve completely forgotten a previous engagement that you all agreed to. Oopsies….
warnings: allusions to sex, getting caught cuddling, funny argument, pre-established relationships, all in all; this is a fluffy mess, again no beta LMAO
genre: m/m/f, m/m/m, and f/f (caitvi obvi)
p.s. You’re my first ever request in my inbox and I’ve damn near had my Tumblr for a decade, so this is quite special to me. I hope my writing lives up to your standards!! Xoxo (I do indeed continue fics if I get comments asking as well, I love when y’all love my writing 🥹🥹)
After some heavy encouragement, Jayce had headed to the council’s meeting room with his head held high and his steps even. He was making a fair request, a request that many of the councillors would not deny him.
Why would they? He’s their “golden boy” the “man of progress” he’s gonna milk their forced upon image to get what he wants.
And he does.
He’s able to still continue his councillor duties, but he’s not as restrained. He’s still able to be in the lab with two of the people he loves most (not including him mama, she’ll always have a reserved spot in his heart.)
The three of you are overjoyed at the progress made. It feels like the first day all over again; all those years ago. The three of you in the lab, researching, testing, joking around. It’s like a secluded heaven.
The one upside is the couch you all pooled money into getting. Now, you know you’ve done some… inappropriate things on that couch. You and Viktor. You and Jayce. You, Jayce, and Viktor. Viktor and Jayce.
But you heavily sanitize it afterwards! You’re not animals!
The one major upside is that the couch is a pull-out bed. Is the couch itself appealing to look at? Maybe to some, but the bright salmon kinda clashes with everything else in the lab but who cares? It’s there as a means of comfort to you and your two partners; not as something to be looked at and never used (as some Piltovian people do in their own houses. Like… what?)
So when the three of you have pulled another all nighter, now almost 72 hours of no sleep. You’re exhausted. You’re smelling colours and tasting sound. You can’t possibly leave in this state in a safe manner; so you three decide to set up the pull-out bed and take a nap before continuing to work. You three may have forgotten something very important.
The planned lunch you agreed to attend with Caitlyn and Vi. And they’re coming to get you now.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Two sets of footsteps are heard reverberating in the academy’s halls. One is light, almost completely silent. While the other, is a bit heavier but quicker.
Caitlyn and Vi have been wanting to catch up with you three desperately. Jayce is like Caitlyn’s older brother, and one of Vi’s best friends. Vi feels like a part of home came with her in both you and Viktor, and Caitlyn loves the two of you. You’re both witty and sarcastic. The two of you are older figure Caitlyn can go to when she doesn’t want to deal with either of her parents or Jayce.
So imagine their surprise as they enter the lab, unlocked for once, and see the three of you cuddled up in a pull-out bed. Fitting together like a small puzzle.
Jayce is closest to the lab doors, his back facing them as he breathes deeply, an arm stretched out over your waist and a hand clasping at Viktor’s. You’re in the middle, on your back as one hand lays cross your stomach and the other in Viktor’s hair. Your head is tilted to rest upon Jayce’s chest. Viktor’s on the side closest to a window, his weaker leg is supported by a pillow as his other leg is bent, coming over one of your thighs.
You three look adorable.
Caitlyn and Vi can’t help but smile at the three of you, it isn’t until Caitlyn sees a mischievous look on Vi’s face does she realize what her girlfriend is about to do.
“Vi don’t—“
“WAKE UP SLEEPY HEADS!”
The three of you groan, Jayce jolts up and runs a hand over his face, you cover yourself in the blankets, and Viktor just grumbles, “What the fuck, man.”
It takes about a minute or two before the realization kicks in.
Oh.
Oh no.
You’ve been caught.
Jayce tries to sputter an excuse as you and Viktor just lay in bed silently, trying to pretend Caitlyn and Vi aren’t there. It’s isn’t until Caitlyn sighs do the two of you look at her.
“My brother… really?”
Jayce is stunned speechless as the two of you roar in laughter. His sputtering for an excuse has changed into an indignant whine, “Cait, you’re so mean to me.”
“Looks like you’re into that.”
“Vi!”
“What pretty boy, am I wrong?”
You wipe a tear from your eye, only to be sent into hysterics again by Viktor’s response, “She’s right.”
Caitlyn fake gags and dry heaves, “Oh my god, I did NOT need to know that!”
Vi just puts a fist out for Jayce to fist-bump, “Good on ya man.”
Jayce smiles and fist bumps her. You three really had no need to worry.
“So… was it the rugged look that did you in?”
“Vi!”
“What cupcake, I’m just asking a question!Jeez.” Vi says innocently, her hands raised in surrender.
“Kind of,” you start, as you finally sit up and try to get out of bed. Viktor’s leg stops you, “I mean I’ve always loved them, but the council keeping Jayce away for so long amplified it. The rugged looks did indeed help. But we’ve been together for…. Almost a year now.”
“Eleven months this upcoming August.” Viktor adds as he looks at the two of you lovingly.
The joyful atmosphere dulls a bit at that statement. Vi and Caitlyn look at each other, a bit hurt.
“You… you’ve been together for that long… and you weren’t going to tell us?” Caitlyn asks, her voice quiet and tense. At that, Jayce jumps out of bed and pulls Caitlyn into a big hug, messy shirt and pants be damned.
“Oh Sprout… we didn't mean to hurt you. Any of you,” he says as he glances towards Vi, “we were just nervous. We weren't sure how people would react.”
You and Viktor slowly get up to join the group, “And you know how the council is regarding Jayce…” you add hesitantly, Viktor puts a hand on your shoulder and says what you're all thinking.
“They’ve built Jayce up as a symbol. A desire to be, to have. They've made this nonsensical parasocial relationship regarding Jayce and the people of Piltover. We were just trying to be safe, we didn't want anyone breathing down our necks…” Viktor's hand tightens on your shoulder.
Vi snorts, “You’re right. That fucking sucks. And for you to play safe, from what I've heard… that's saying something.”
You laugh as Viktor rolls his eyes, Jayce pulls away from his hug from Caitlyn and puts his hands on her shoulders, “Ya think you can forgive us, Sprout?”
Caitlyn’s lips thin and she narrows her blue eyes at him, Jayce feels like gulping. The two of you know what she's doing.
She's getting her little sister revenge.
“Fine.” she complies and Jayce deflates like a balloon, and you two giggle at Jayce's dramatics.
“Please tell me you clean that couch, I've sat on it before.”
“Oh my Janna, Vi!”
“What?! It's a serious question!”
Jayce gives Vi a look, “We do indeed clean it, but next time we break it in, we may not. We may accidentally forget.”
Vi jokingly puts a hand on her chest in horror, “Why would you say that?!”
“Cause I want to see you squirm next time you come in here and sit on the damn thing.”
All of you burst out laughing, this couldn't have gone any better. “Our reservation is at three. So tidy up as best you can, you three probably haven't eaten all day.” Caitlyn orders.
You, Jayce, and Viktor look at one another before slowly nodding. Damn. She's got you, she's got you good.
“Shut up Caitlyn.”
“If you continue that attitude with me Jayce, I’ll make sure all the sweet milk goes to Viktor.”
You chuckle as Viktor states, “Keep the attitude up Jayce. That sweet milk is mine.”
“I've never got to try it! You keep drinking the glasses you make for me!”
“Sucks to be you.”
Jayce sputters and you just smile at the two ridiculous men you're in love with.
You can't wait to see what the years have in store for you three.
I saw your request as soon as I woke up and put this together asap. I hope you (and everyone else who reads this) enjoy this fluffy piece! If anyone else has any requests, my inbox is always open xoxo.
#arcane#viktor arcane#jayce talis#jayce arcane#viktor x reader#jayce x reader#viktor x jayce#jayvik x reader#viktor x jayce x reader#arcane imagine#viktor imagine#jayce imagine#background caitvi#banners by cafekitsune
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love your works! How about lokixreader (friends to lover). Where the reader decides to try to get over loki by going on a date because she thing loki doesn’t like her like that. So how loki finds out about her going out on a date and I’ll leave the rest up to you!
You Mischievous Little Thing | Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Reader
HELLOO!!! Thank you so much for this ask :3 I may have not written exactly what you were imagining, however I had a lottt of fun adding to this prompt. I also... wrote quite a bit more than I was expecting, the words just kept coming!! I hope you enjoy!! :D Reminder, asks are still open <3
Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist
Description: Loki finds you on a date, with another man, wearing his colors.
Warnings: Slight NSFW content, no set timeline, jealous Loki ;), feminine reader, no use of (Y/N), slight knife play.
Word count: 3.8k
mea columba: my dove
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
All Mother Frigga was not only known for being one of the smartest and beautiful women of Asgard, but also for the grand soirée’s hosted almost every other week. Typically they were hosted for events, however Frigga also loved to host gatherings, this being one of those times.
Usually you loved the grand events, however, this time you dreaded going. You had actually managed to get a date for this ball. It wasn’t an accident, you were trying your best to move on. To get your mind away from your childhood best friend. The Young Prince, Loki of Asgard.
You had recently come to the realization you had feelings for the man. You noticed your heartbeat would speed up at the littlest of glances, the smallest of smiles, the sweetest of looks.
How you had come to this conclusion was finding your cheeks the brightest of red in the mirror while allowing your mind to fall to the idea of the Prince. You cursed yourself that day, and cursed the God of Mischief for fooling you into these feelings.
You couldn’t help it however, his bashful smiles, his bright blue eyes that seemed to just do things to you - you couldn’t get him out of your mind.
And you knew, he did not feel the same way. I mean, he was Loki of Asgard, and you were you, of… Well, nothing really.
You had met him in the gardens when you were young. Your father was a nobleman on the war council and you had been visiting the castle for a few weeks when you had bumped into the boy. Immediately the two of you clicked, it was easy. You had the same curiosity for the world, the same mischievous and playful spirit, the same yearning to know more, to be more.
And now, centuries later, you lived in the castle. You had moved to the castle at Loki’s request, to help him with his studies to become the Crown Prince for when his brother finally was crowned. Now, you had a rightful seat at the war council - just as your father had.
It had been years of the two of you being side by side, you had become inseparable. Everyone knew it, everyone saw it.
You had both dated others, but nothing ever stuck for either of you. You didn’t mind, until you realized you had feelings for the Young Prince.
So now there you were, down in the Ball Room as hundreds of other Asgardians danced around you all the while awkwardly standing next to your date. Ironically, the only dress you had at the moment to wear was a dark green gown, laced with gold ribbon.
The man you stood beside wasn’t terrible, he was sweet, but just… Boring. It was nothing against him, he was handsome, but he didn’t get your jokes, your sarcasm, or even your compliments. It seemed he truly didn’t have a brain.
You smiled at him as he spoke about battle, in a dramatic fashion - explaining something about decapitating an enemy. You had stopped listening minutes ago, but yet you sipped your drink politely, letting your eyes wander slightly, looking for… Well you know who you were looking for. To your dismay, you had yet to see the blue eyed man.
So you moved your eyes back over to your date, whose name, you actually could not remember for the life of you. He had seemed to now be distracted by one of his friends who had come to speak to him. Seeing as they were now enthralled in a conversation, you took this as the best moment to step away.
You moved quickly, giving a quick muttered excuse to leave and moving carefully to the large banquet table. The foods and deserts upon the table made your mouth water. You reached for a rosatum, thankful for the sweetness that dissolved upon your tongue.
You let your eyes wander again, you watched as couples danced happily upon the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s. Your heart panged in an odd manner, was that jealousy? Yearning?
You didn’t know, and preferably, you didn’t want to.
As you were finishing one off of the many drinks you had tonight, you felt a pair of eyes studying you from afar. Your own eyes snapped to them immediately.
You could sense him from what felt like miles away. You were not one for magic, but his magic you could feel. You didn’t know why, you assumed it had something to do with the time you had spent together. However you didn’t mind, he wasn’t able to sneak up on you anymore - he had done it enough.
As your eyes found his, a velvety feeling filled your lungs. A small smile crept up upon your face as you gave him a small curtsey, a running inside joke between you two.
You could see a smile creep up his expression as he bowed his head to you.
You could almost see his eyes graze your figure, but he was too far away to truly tell. Standing the upon golden steps across the room his aura bled confidence, something you could tell from hundreds of feet away. He was wearing a beautiful dark green and gold suit plated with golden armor, a show of his status.
You wanted to wave him over, and you almost did - until your date grabbed your shoulder.
“You disappeared back there,” he smiled politely, pulling your attention, albeit begrudgingly, away from the Young Prince across the hall.
You didn’t see how his face fell.
“I apologize,” you smiled half-heartedly.
“I was just getting to the best part,” He laughed, his face red and flushed from alcohol, “I hadn't told you about the beheading!”
He did, a thousand times already.
You hoped your true emotions were not showing upon your face, as that would be quite rude. But truly, you could not stand to be around this man anymore. You had already listened to enough battle re-telling while on the council. You wanted to come up with some excuse to leave, maybe that you had fallen ill - but before you could even get another word out, the hairs on the back of your neck stood.
“Would you care to dance My Lady?”
You spun to the side, unaware of your date’s narrowing eyes upon the man now in front of you both.
“Loki.” you had almost gasped out in relief, he was finally here to rescue you from this horrid date.
His sharp features seemed to soften as they took you in, admiring the gown you had put yourself in. Loki’s eyes met yours again and his feathery gaze fell into a stoic wall you could not not break through. He smiled politely at your date before holding out his arm for you to grab.
You took it willingly, wrapping your arm with his.
You didn’t even glance back to your date as Loki took you through the crowd, finding a perfect spot for the two of you to dance. You felt yourself become relaxed at the mere presence of him. His familiar oaky and leathery cologne invaded your senses, sending your heart into a frenzy of beats. His hold upon your arm was sturdy and powerful, almost as if proving something. You didn’t question it, happy you now had space between you and the man you were just with.
“A date?” The black haired man finally spoke out. His voice was solid, there was a strong lack of emotions behind his question, throwing you off.
You nodded.
“Y’know, Adrián is one of the stupidest Asgardians I’ve ever met.” He quipped. His tone was void of the typical teasing you were used to, but you smiled and laughed anyway, moving your body with his as you turned to dance with him.
“I realize that now, I actually didn’t even remember his name. I’m not sure he does either, he’s had enough mead for a lifetime.” You smiled, a genuine smile as you gazed up to Loki. Truly taking in his striking features. You had danced together time and time again before, however you always jumped at the chance to admire him. His hair was slicked back and styled, and his blue eyes almost looked green from the reflection of your clothing. “I think I could only handle the same story twice, and I have heard it enough already for a millenia.”
A small smile crept up to Loki’s face at your comment, but yet his stoic facade still stood between you and him. He spun you around once, stepping into place with the others dancing around you.
There was an odd silence between you two at this moment, it made you uneasy. Quiet was normal between you two - time spent together reading by the fire, studying in the archives, or even just spending time going on walks in and around the palace - but this quiet, it was different.
You kept your eyes on him as he failed to meet yours, “Is there something wrong?” You finally asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. You wanted to reach and brush the stray hair from his cheek back behind his ear, but you refrained.
Loki shook his head, licking his lips as he danced your body with his own. His eyes finally falling upon yours as he spoke, “It’s insulting for you to parade yourself out here in my colors, with your arm around another man.”
His words held a certain… frustration, that you could not decipher.
Your lips parted in surprise at his words, your eyes staying upon his as your eyebrows raised, “What?” A small nervous laugh escaping you.
His own eyebrow perked up, spinning you around with him as he scanned the crowd of people beside the group dancing, “Did you do it on purpose?” The irritation in his voice was certain as his eyes met yours again.
You had seen Loki frustrated before, angry even. However this was different - it was an emotion you had not seen upon the man. Your mouth went dry at the accusation, you were confused as to what he was implying - had you understood, you’d probably faint.
“I’m sorry?” You asked again, your voice still holding the nervous laugh from before. Avoiding his gaze you spoke again, “I do not understand what you are insinuating.”
While you failed to meet his gaze, you didn’t fail to notice the pink that seemed to climb up upon his neck. His own eyes flickering away from you to the crowd that surrounded you, he seemed… Nervous.
Suddenly, as if seeing something in the crowd - his eyes glowed with frustration once more before snapping to you again. He spun you around again, your gown glittering under the soft light from the chandeliers. Before pulling you close to his body, leading you two into a gentle waltz. The dancing had now become the background of your focus, giving Loki the authority to lead you was easy.
“Look at you, mea columba. You are adorned in gold and green.” Loki’s eyes scanned you up and down, a dangerous emotion flickering through his blue eyes. “You’re practically mine in those colors.”
Your eyes snapped to his blue ones in surprise. You opened your mouth to respond, but you had nothing on your mind to respond with, you were still mulling over his words in your mind.
Practically his.
You gulped as you closed your mouth, your eyes flitting from his eyes down to his lips, where a small smirk had begun to form upon them. Of course, he was playing a game with you, it seemed he always was. As your eyes met his again, you found the wall that was once there was now broken. You could see his frustration now melt into something different, confidence.
You hadn’t noticed Loki had led you both near one of the many exits of the ballroom. You now had stopped dancing, his arm still leading you two wherever he pleased. You looked around finally, seeing you had stepped past the beautiful archway leading you both down a quiet hall. You didn’t mind, the music was becoming overwhelming.
“It was the only gown that was decent enough for the ball.” The words tumbled from your lips haphazardly, it was the first response you could manage. You cursed yourself internally for drinking as much as you had. Deep down you knew that wasn’t the key to your flustered state, however it was easier to blame.
Loki’s eyebrow perked again at the excuse, leading you to an open isolated balcony looking upon the beautiful Gardens lit under the moonlight below. He turned to you, his arm unlacing with yours and taking a few steps away - keeping his eyes trained to your figure he spoke, “I thought you wore those colors for me.”
You froze, the soft chill of the wind sending shivers up your spine, or was that from him? You couldn’t tell. Swallowing thickly you moved to the edge of the balcony, looking down upon the gardens. Your nerves were on high alert, feeling his gaze upon you as you attempted to ignore him.
You couldn’t, his presence overwhelmed you in a way you couldn’t properly comprehend.
Wearing colors for him? Why would he care? Has he ever cared before?
You couldn’t recall a time where he had.
The silence enveloped the two of you, the only sound being the laughter from the ball room and the soft melody of music that echoed down the hall. Loki’s eyes fixated on you, and your own refusing to meet his. It was a silent battle of push and pull - a simple game which you knew you were losing.
You didn’t notice him pulling nervously at his fingers behind his back.
Knowing you couldn’t just let yourself lose, you pushed back. You felt confidence consume you, as you had played this game with him many times before. Straightening your posture you turned to him, your eyes finding his already upon your form.
They hadn’t left.
And finally - you spoke, bringing the silence to an end.
“I hadn’t realized you laid claim upon a color.”
As the jest fell from your lips, excitement flashed through the prince’s blue eyes. His hands falling to his sides as he moved closer. His body was now mere inches away from yours, you could feel the unusual cold chill from his body that you had grown to find comfort within. His hand reached to lift your chin, his eyes meeting yours.
It seemed as if lightning struck as they connected, your body tensed as the confidence you had just felt faltered for a moment.
A knowing smirk slowly made its way upon Loki’s face. “And anyone that wears it.”
Your breath hitched at the implication, your eyes flicking down his figure before meeting his eyes once again. You gazed at him through your eyelashes, your teeth finding your bottom lip as you returned his playful, smirk.
“Well,” You paused, taking your time to mull over your words as a certain heat rose in your lower half, “If I must, I may just have to - take it off?” You glanced away briefly, “If that pleases you,” you met his blue eyes again, “Your Highness.”
You lowered yourself into a curtsey, your head now below his abdomen. Before you could sink any lower, his cold hand grabbed your upper arm - pulling you back up to him. He was leaning over now, your faces just threads apart.
You could feel Loki’s breath upon your lips as he spoke, “Oh you mischievous little thing,” his tone low and rasping.
Lifting you and setting you upon the bench like railing of the balcony, one hand finding your lower back, his grasp the only thing between you and the gardens below sending a wave of adrenaline through you. His other hand - crawling up your leg under the flurry of skirts you adorned, your own hands finding his neck. He whispered finally, leaning over so that his lips now at your “You know I would like to do that myself.”
Stunned by his sudden actions, his declaration, and the closeness of the two of you - it had seemed as if you had suddenly lost the ability to speak. Your lips parted in surprise, his strong grasp steadying you just enough.
Your nervous gaze fell upon him - his attention fixated upon you. Your lungs shook as you took in a shuddering beeath, searching for the words to say, to continue this game.
But you couldn’t find those words, in fact, he didn’t even give you the chance to - as his lips were now on yours.
Your heart skipped eight beats at once and a small gasp escaped you. His kiss was hesitant at first, but when your eyes fluttered closed, and your hands found his hair, pulling him closer - as if giving him permission - he didn’t restrain himself any longer.
Loki’s hand on your lower back was now moving up to your shoulder blades, moving your body flush to his. The hand that resided within your skirts gripped your thigh tightly - as if he could sink claws into your warm flesh.
As he leaned closer, you broke away - your nervousness from being mere inches to the edge causing your momentous pause. Breathless and shamelessly warm, your lips parted, ready to warn him of your anxieties. His hungry eyes met yours and he spoke for you.
“You think I'd be so foolish as to let you fall?” He clicked his tongue teasingly as he spoke, “The only foolish thing I’ve done is let you be seen in this dress while not by my side.”
A wild glimmer flickered through his icy blue gaze, desperation clawed through them as they trailed down to your gown. As they flicked back up, the mischievous smirk you were used to took hold of his expression. You could see the gears turning in his mind - you knew his next actions would be bad news.
You felt yourself flush with amorous excitement.
Loki’s hand upon your back lowered once more - all the while still holding you sturdy - and his other hand loosened from your thigh. “We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong message now,” his eyebrow perked as he cocked his head to the side slightly, his tone low and commanding, but yet far from his usual Prince-like-regality, “Would we?”
You felt a cold sharp object graze where Loki’s hand once was. Your breath hitched as you heard the sharp ripping of fabrics.
Your eyes snapped down, your skirts now cut away, revealing your bare legs and a dagger gripped between Loki’s palm. As he conjured the dagger away in a fluff of green particles, feathery gasp escaped your lips at the sudden coolness of the breeze against your skin. His hand found your thigh once more - however much higher than he had before.
“Much better now,”, he pulled you against him and wrapped your legs around his lower half. His dangerous gaze never seemed to falter.
“Don’t you agree?”
You wanted to disagree, in fact you wanted to yell at him for cutting up such a beautiful gown. But hungry excitement flooded your veins.
“Loki…” You whispered out a warning. You wanted to say more, tell him that this game had gone too far - but the yearning for more clawed through your chest and down through your lower half. Something else told you this wasn’t a game anymore. Your tongue flitted over your lips - Loki’s eyes falling to them - watching as you bit back the words you truly wanted to say.
“Oh mea columba,” He practically groaned out - his voice coated with desperation, “As much as I love seeing you in gold and green, I think I’d much prefer you with nothing on.” As he spoke, his hand on your upper thigh crawled farther up - reaching the hem of your panties.
A soft whimper escaped your lips as his cold fingers played with the hem “If that pleases you, My Prince.”
As the words left you, his gaze shot to yours. His eyes glowed with hunger, so much so that even you could see that he was starving.
“What would please me, is the idea of you never wearing another man's arm -” He paused, his fingers slipping under the hem, his hand grasping the side of your hips. He lowered, his lips finding your jaw - you stretching your neck to give him access. The kisses started slowly, giving you time to move your hands around to his neck and lowering them further down his chest.
“However,” he began again - his lips now lowering down to your neck “You can wear my colors-” He stopped again, his teeth now grazing your collarbone, unbeknownst to you his piercing gaze stared up at you, “As long as I get to claim you as mine.”
You shuddered at his words, realizing this was not a game anymore. This was desire. Your hands found the back of his head once more, his once styled and slicked back hair was now a mess - his natural curls now showing through.
The goosebumps that raised on your flesh was telling enough for Loki, he smirked against your skin. Straightening himself into a stand, all the while kissing you feverishly up your neck and collarbone.
Tightening his grip upon your hip - hovering his lips just breaths away from yours he spoke, “Should we take this to my bed chambers then,” he paused, his sensual gaze now upon yours, “My lady?”
You gazed up at him through your lashes - your body warm with desperation, with the want - no - the need, for more.
“Please-” the plea was barely a word, but instead a hushed moan that you couldn’t control.
At the sound Loki’s eyes flashed - both hands now at your hips, lifting you from the railing. His arms wrapped around you, flushing you against him. You barely had time to register the green particles that surrounded you both, before your head was upon a pillow and soft silk sheets beneath you. Loki’s arm released you gently as he leaned back, now straddling you.
He whipped his hair back, brushing it away from his face as he took a steadying breath, his eyes finding yours again. You noticed he no longer wore gold armour, but just his shite undershirt and black pants that he wore underneath.
Your heart seemed to stutter as you watched him, his biceps flexing as he moved to unbutton half of his shirt. His sensual gaze looking you up and down, sending shivers through your spine, and velvet through you.
“Now,” He spoke finally, pulling your hands that laid at your sides up, above your head onto the headboard. His face now inches from yours once more, “Let’s get this torn gown off of you.”
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Consider Me Gone-Part 2
Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/Gerstead x Reader
A trauma rolls into med that nearly brings you to your limit. You need Jay and Mouse yet for the first time when you reach your hand out there's not even one there to grasp it.
Warnings: SCENE OF AN O.D.
“Please no” Cassandra begged, falling into your arms. You requested to come along on this notification and now you were regretting it but knew you had to face it “I’m so sorry Cassie” you whispered and felt her knees go out from under her. The two men with you moved to support her but you glared at them as you sank to the floor with her, wrapping your arms protectively around the other woman “He wasn’t alone. I promise you, I was there. I held his hand. I made sure he wasn’t hurting in those last moments. That’s all I could do”
You shot up out of the bed, a fine sheet of sweat covering your body. Mouse and Jay both were on high alert, shooting up on either side of you. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Mouse asked and you shook your head “Nothing, doesn’t matter” the sting of their words the previous night was still a little too fresh to admit that while finding Mark plagued their memories, his wife’s reaction and pain plagued yours. Jay’s face fell as if he knew just exactly why you’d said nothing “Baby, talk to us”
You shook your head “I said I’m fine” you glanced at the time and saw it was only about an hour before your alarm would’ve gone off anyways. “I’m gonna grab a shower and start coffee” “I’ll start coffee” Jay offered so you nodded and slid out of the bed at the foot of it so you didn’t have to go over either one of them.
Jay climbed out of bed after you and walked past you while you were picking through your dresser for a pair of scrubs. He placed one hand on your lower back and it took everything in you to not tense under his touch. “I love you” he spoke before kissing the side of your head. “I love you Jay” you whispered, keeping your eyes on the contents of the drawer in front of you.
You didn’t have to look to know he shot Mouse a look before leaving the room. Divide and conquer was always their route when it came to thinking one of them had done something to hurt your feelings in some way and since Jay was the one who’d actually voiced the thought, apparently Mouse was the one tasked with damage control.
You didn’t hear the bed move before you felt Mouse at your back. “Can I please put my arms around you?” he asked and you nodded. He slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest “I’m sorry for what was said, Jay is too. It came out wrong” you nodded simply because you didn’t trust your voice to not waver at the moment.
He stood there for a moment just holding you and you wanted so bad just to forget the hurt. How humiliating it felt when they both had acted as if your time spent overseas was nothing because you weren’t an active combatant. You had the same base training as them, you weren’t exactly Desmond Doss. You believed in kill or be killed and had done whatever it took to keep your unit safe. On top of that to know that they couldn’t even turn to a man that served, it was another woman. Yeah she’d been in your unit but how could they not realize how that would make you feel?
“Greg, I’ve got to get a shower” you whispered and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder where the tank you’d worn to bed left it bare “Ok. You want some breakfast?” you shook your head “I’ll just get some coffee” he left his arms drop and you had to remind yourself to not run from the room. What the hell were you doing to yourself? You had to get in a better mindset before work.
When you got out of the shower and were dressed you headed to the kitchen and could hear the two of them talking. “You know that was a nightmare right?” “Well damn Greg I never would’ve guessed” “Since when does she not tell us about them?”
You stepped around the corner and cleared your throat. Both of their heads whipped around at the sound and they looked like kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar “Is the coffee ready?” Mouse held up your mug and you knew it was made to your taste. You walked over and took it from his hand with a small smile “Thank you”
You leaned back against the counter and took a sip before asking “How’s the case going anyways?” They exchanged a look before Jay said “Voight think’s he has a lead. Him and Al were gonna go talk to a few people they knew this morning” “Good” you replied and left it at that. Normally mornings in your house were spent talking over coffee, planning for the week ahead. Today felt like there was a space between you and them that was strangling you with every breath you took.
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You dumped the rest of your coffee “I’m gonna get going” “Can we talk after work?” Jay asked and you cut your eyes at him “Sure you want to talk to me?” his shoulders sagged slightly “Princess there’s no one else on earth we’d rather talk to” you laughed humorlessly “Really?”
He ran a hand down his face “Baby, it was a freaking beer!” “A beer with another woman Jay!” you argued and he waved a hand “A woman who was in our freaking unit! Who was in the field with us! Who saw the same shit we did!” you shook your head “I was there Jay! I saw the same shit! Who the hell do you think they drug Mark back to? Who do you think had to try their fucking hardest to save him only to have to tell his wife that they couldn’t?”
Mouse stepped between you and Jay “Take a breath, both of you” you glared at him “You aren’t fucking innocent either Greg. You did the same thing! Jay is just verbal about his bullshit! Why don’t you tell me how fucking useless I am too? About how my trauma isn’t valid because I wasn’t in the field? How I WASN’T THERE TOO?”
They both flinched when you screamed but you didn’t care, hot tears were spilling down your face by that point “Ever stop to think that when Erin called to give me that heads up that it took me right back to that day too?” you looked between them and they both dropped their gaze. You nodded slowly “Of course not. You two found him, yeah and that was fucking horrific. I care enough about you two to never take away from anything you’ve endured but I am the one that he was laid on a stretcher in front of and tasked with trying to save! I am the one who had to lie and tell him he was going to be ok! I am the one who watched life leave his eyes and I am the one who held his wife when she was told her husband, the father of her twins, was not coming home. I don’t give a fuck what Athena saw. You two were drowning, ok. You come to me! ME! No one else! We’re supposed to have each other’s backs! We’ve always had each other’s backs but because she’s in town all of a sudden I’m not good enough?”
“We never once said that!” Mouse argued but a phone chiming interrupted all of you. You glanced towards the counter to see Jay’s phone lit up. You knew both of their passwords like they knew yours so you walked over to pick it up and saw it had Athena’s name on it. You didn’t even look at the text. You picked it up and threw it at Jay’s chest.
“You two don’t even care that I’m here in front of you do you? Just because she was in the field. Did she put you two back together? Did she let herself jump so far down into that darkness just to help you two dig yourselves back up? I did! I needed you two to talk to me last night because then that meant you trusted me with the hell in your head. You didn’t. You talked to her. You chose her. Sometimes what you don’t say comes through so much clearer than what you do”
You spun on your heel to walk out the room but both of them caught you, trying to put their arms around you. You shoved them off “No! Fuck you! You don’t get to touch me!” They both put their hands up defensively. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking until you raised them to point one at each of them “I love both of you with my entire fucking heart but you need to decide what it is you want”
You stormed out of the room, stopping just long enough to grab your keys and phone before slamming the door behind yourself.
You sat in your car with your head leaned back against the seat, trying your best to stop the damn tears. Your phone hadn’t stopped ringing since you left home. Jay and Mouse were taking turns calling and texting. When they got to work they would probably resort to either using landlines or stealing the unit’s phones.
You took a deep breath and clicked on the group text thread. M:Sweetheart please answer your phone J:Baby just talk to us M:You know we would never want anyone but you J:No one would ever compare to you M:We love you more than anything J:Please just answer your phone
You texted back I have to go into the hospital now. I can’t have my head on this when people are hurt or sick in front of me. You both know what you mean to me. I don’t know what that text said and I don’t want to know. I do need to know where I stand by the time my shift ends
With that you locked your phone and slid it into your pocket, checked to see just how horrible you looked then climbed out of your car.
Two car wrecks, a delivery done in the ed, a GSW and three people with the flu covered your first five hours of your shift. You still weren’t in the best mind set but you were doing what you did best, pushing it to the side to help the people in front of you. That was how you maintained your balance, how you didn’t lose yourself. That was something you’d found long ago.
You were in the breakroom when Will came in and you dropped your gaze, pulling out your phone and hoping he hadn’t noticed you weren’t quite aces. “There’s my favorite sister in law” you cut your eyes up with a small smile “Hey Will” he sat down across from you “Are you ok?”
You nodded slowly “Yup, can not think of a single reason why I wouldn’t be” he stared at you for a moment before raising an eyebrow “I’m not the brother you’re in a relationship with but I have known you for quite a while. I love you, you’re like a sister to me.If something is wrong, even if it's something my brother or Mouse did you can talk to me” You nodded “I know. I promise, I’m ok Will. I had a bad night, dreams of delivering bad news kept haunting me”
“Why did you do that? It wasn’t your job” he asked and you shrugged “I had letters, messages or just to let them know I held the person they loved so they wouldn’t be alone. I would want to know Jay or Mouse wasn’t alone” he smiled “You’re an extraordinary woman. Don’t know how the hell my brother and Mouse of all people got you”
You gave him a small smile “They looked cute in their ACUs” he shook his head with a laugh “There she is” then tapped on the table “I’ll be around if you need me. Just holler and I’ll come running sis” “Thanks Will”
__________________
You stepped out of the break room and heard Ethan call your name “We got an OD in trauma one Y/N! I need you” you feel in step with him, running around the main desk and into the trauma room. You heard April calling out stats and saw Will administering another round of Narcan but when you glanced at the body on the bed, it felt like their voices were underwater. You could hear them but they were muffled. Your hands felt like they were tingling and your head felt like it may very well slip off your body. That jacket, that black jacket.
You hadn’t been back in Chicago but maybe a month. You just managed to rent a new place. It was a little one bedroom but it was in an ok neighboor and the rent didn’t kill you. You’d just gotten off back to back shifts and was curled up under three blankets from the harsh winter night. The sound of your phone blaring woke you up.You scrambled for it and squinted against the harsh glare before bringing it to your ear “Halstead I swear to christ..”
Before you could finish the threat he cut you off “I had a missed call from Mouse about an hour ago. He left a voicemail, he was slurring Y/N and now he isn’t answering” you were out of the bed before he finished talking “Come pick me up”
You followed Jay to the apartment he said was Mouse’s. He hadn’t let you out of his sight and honestly in this neighborhood? You were grateful. “How the hell are we gonna get in?” you asked and he cut his eyes up at a window. You shrugged and slung your med bag across your chest before pulling his knife out of his pocket “Give me a boost?”
He put his hands around your hips and hoisted you up. It didn’t take you long to pop the flimsy lock on the window and shimmy inside. “Y/N!” he called and you looked back out. He handed you a flashlight and his gun. “What do I need that for?” he shrugged “We don’t know what you’re going into. If it’s bad yell and I’ll kick the door in”
You turned the light on and readied the gun before stepping away from the window. Your heart shattered the moment you saw the interior of the apartment. There was no furniture,at all. A single mattress was on the floor and it felt colder inside than it did outside.
You cleared room by room and was starting to think maybe Greg had just drunk dialed Jay when you pushed open the bathroom door. “JAY!” you screamed.
Mouse lay in the middle of the bathroom floor, a couple pill bottles lay in the sink and it didn’t look like he was breathing. You slid to your knees,throwing your med bag off onto the floor. You rolled him over onto his side, the black jacket he wore was icy to the touch, when you noticed how grey his lips looked tears sprung to your eyes “No no no” you heard the front door bounce off the wall from the force of Jay kicking it in.
You reached for Mouse’s pulse and felt a weak, thready one. “CALL AN AMBULANCE JAY! HE’S OVERDOSED!” you screamed. You dug into your bag, shaking fingers wrapping around the narcan “Greg please don’t fucking do this to me” you whispered before bringing the medicine up to his nose and administering it. You turned him for rescue breaths, praying you hadn’t been too late. Jay ran into the room, still on the phone with the dispatcher “My-my friend is a trained medic”
You didn’t try to listen, your goal was getting to see those sky blue eyes you loved looking up at you again. “Please Greg” you whispered, administering the second dose after the time passed and was rewarded by a harsh gasp of air being forced into his lungs. “Tell them he’s breathing” you sobbed, turning him on his side again in case he puked. His eyes cracked open “Y/N?” you nodded, tears flowing down your face “Hey” “Don’t cry baby” he whispered weakly and you shook your head “Then stay awake till the ambulance gets here ok?”
“Y/N! Y/N!” you hadn’t realized you froze or that everyone in the room had realized it. Ethan, Will and April had gotten the patient stabilized but were now staring at you like they were worried you may be next “I’m sorry” you whispered and ran out of the room.
Ethan found you in the break room, sitting on the floor with your head between your knees shaking. He crouched in front of you, close but not touching “Hey, can I touch you or no?” you shook your head and he smiled slightly “Ok. Can I get April or Maggie?” you nodded and he smiled “Stay here soldier. I’m gonna get you help. I won’t leave your side for long, I promise”
He came back a few moments later with April in tow. She climbed down next to you and slowly put her arm around you “Match my breathing honey”. You listened to her breaths and were able to slow yours after a few minutes while she kept two fingers on your pulse to check it.
Once you were able to actually focus your eyes on them Ethan sat cross legged in front of you “Talk to me” you swallowed hard “That jacket the kid had” he nodded and you met his eyes “Greg had one just like it the night he overdosed and I thought we lost him” He shared a look with April and she nodded “I’m gonna go back to the floor sweetie. If you need me just send Ethan” you nodded “Thank you”
Once she left he looked back at you “When did it happen?” you swallowed hard “When we got back we all kind of went our own ways for a while. Jay, he sought comfort in bodies. Any bed he could warm he did. I visited families of the men I lost, delivering messages then I went to stay with my sister for a while, I barely slept or ate during that time. If it wasn’t eighty proof I didn’t want it and Greg well he found his own way to numb the pain”
“How’d you get out of it?” he asked and you smiled slightly “Greg pulled Jay out of a hole. He was in bad shape. He’d started drinking bad, doing stuff that well he shouldn’t have been involved with. Greg got him home to Chicago. Those two being back here was like a magnet to pull my ass back” “What happened when Greg overdosed?” he asked so you recounted that night “He was so thin Ethan. I mean Greg has always had a slimmer frame but he’s always been lean muscle. We’re talking about a man that could toss me over his shoulder and laugh about it. That night, I could move him by myself with no issue. His lips were grey…it took two rounds of Narcan”
“I didn’t know” he offered and you nodded “I don’t think it would’ve hit that bad had intelligence not had just caught a case that trudged up memories of how we lost a man too. I was the medic that couldn’t save him..they don’t get that pain” he smiled slightly and nudged your knee “Lucky for you someone you know does. Any time anything like that hits you, call me. April won’t care. She loves you and wouldn’t want you to have to face it alone”
“You don’t know how much that means” you whispered and he nodded. “Feel like facing the outside world or wanna sit in here a while longer?” you shook your head “We’ve faced worse right?” he smiled “There’s that medic who sends em running”
__________________
The moment you and Ethan stepped out of the break room you spotted Will. “Are you ok?” he asked and you nodded “Yeah, a little embarrassed” Ethan cut his eyes at you “That? We’re not doing that, ok?” you nodded “Ok” he smiled “Get to work medic” you grinned “Yes sir”
Will looked at you “Do I need to call Jay?” you shook your head “I’m ok” he gave you a look so you sighed “I’ll text them!” that seemed to appease him enough. “If you need me holler, ok?” “Ok”
How do you text your boyfriends that you screamed at that morning that you had a flashback and panic attack at work? Before Will says anything, I’m fine. Just a case threw me off. No big deal
M: What do you mean you’re fine, no big deal??? J: Do we need to come to you?? M: Are you ok??
I’m fine, just had a bad time with a case that came in
M: What case? You stared at the text because no matter how mad you were you didn’t want to put guilt on him. He’d gone through hell. He’d fought to get and stay sober. You didn’t want to throw it in his face. Doesn’t matter and I don’t mean that like this morning. I’m ok now
M:If you need us, call. I love you J: Even if I can’t come, Mouse will. I love you
Love you both, always
You slid your phone back into your pocket and jumped back into work.
By the time you got off you were dead on your feet but you considered stopping by the precinct to see everyone before going home. You didn’t want to text Jay or Mouse so you texted Erin Hey babe, want some coffee? It didn’t take long for her to text back Omg yes! I’ll steal you from dumb and dumber I will love you so much you laughed and sent back Text me orders
___________
You pulled into the front lot with the two carriers of coffee. You’d texted Erin to send help down and smiled when you saw Al coming out the front door “Oh she sent my favorite detective” he smiled “Hey kid” you passed him one carrier then grabbed the other and the extra coffee that was Trudy’s.
“How was work?” he asked and when you grimaced he laughed “That good huh?” you shrugged “Put it this way? There’s days I kinda miss the simplicity of being a trauma medic compared to an ed nurse”
You followed him in and stopped at the front desk to offer Trudy her cup. She smiled “I have no clue how Mouse and Detective chuckles got a woman like you” you winked at her “Neither do they”
You followed Al up the stairs after he scanned his palm. You could hear everyone’s voice drifting downstairs and smiled when you heard Erin and Kim laughing. You’d gotten close with the unit over time. They were your friends, hell your family.
You made it to the bullpen and started passing out cups. Voight smiled “You’re an angel sweetheart” you shook your head “No one likes a liar now Hank” and everyone cracked up. You were about to ask where Jay and Mouse were when you heard their voices coming from the back hallway. You turned towards the door with a smile that quickly fell when you realized they weren’t alone. Athena was with them. “What the fuck” you and Erin both spoke in tandem.
All three heads turned towards your voice and Athena had the nerve to smile “Fireball” you grabbed the cups of coffee and threw them at Jay and Mouse “I’m done” you didn’t try to stop yourself from running that time. You ran down the stairs, hearing Erin’s raised voice along with Jay and Mouse’s followed by Voight yelling for everyone to shut up.
When you got to the lobby you slowed to a fast walk and nodded to Trudy but the moment you hit the door you ran for your car, collapsing into the driver’s seat.
____________________
You moved through the house with your duffle bag shoving everything you came across that belonged to you in it. Thank god the United States made sure to supply you with a bag big enough to pack your life in.
You snatched your old dogtags off the corner of the mirror where they hung with Mouse and Jay’s. They didn’t need them. You would burn your photos if you had enough time. Your goal was to get gone before they could get home. They knew how you felt, they knew your insecurities. You’d laid everything on the line for them and they hadn’t cared. She’d smiled in your face! SMILED.
You’d kill her if you ever got within arm’s reach again. She didn’t know them like you did. She didn’t know a damn thing about them compared to you. Every demon, every dark corner YOU faced. More tears broke free but that didn’t stop you. If you weren’t worth fighting for in their opinion why would you fight for them?
You did a final look around then took your key off and laid it on the counter. You didn’t need it anymore. You locked the door behind yourself and threw your duffle into your trunk. Maggie would let you sleep on her couch until you could figure things out. Your life just fell down around you, the men you love just turned their backs on you. You’d never felt more alone but knew she wouldn’t turn you away. You did have some people that truly did love you even if Jay and Mouse weren’t on that list after all.
@desimarie12
@alterna123
@allisonargent144
#greg mouse gerwitz x reader x jay halstead#jay halstead x reader#greg mouse gerwitz x reader#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd fic#chicago pd fanfic#jay halstead x you#jay halstead fanfiction#greg gerwitz x reader#greggerwitz x reader#mouse gerwitz x reader#gerstead x reader#moustead#moustead x reader
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Why den is both not purely an animal and can consent.
There alot of textual evidence but if that’s too long here some other form of offical evidence.
Mod statements
Ofifcal dev statements
Before you say “this is fake” or anything else here the link.
Now if you somehow still aren’t convince here the textual evidence and of course major spoilers below
Skeptic (aka lure) Den.
For this case it’s shows some of the clearest case of her humanity.
First of all to get the Tower out of the room the eyes.
If you say “oh it’s just the narrator interpretation” this is textually incorrect as shown below
You think narrator, the guy who literally calls her an animal moments later and is shown a constant horrible hatred of princesses. Would interpret her eyes as saying something so humanizing when that’s the exact opposite of what he wants you to see her as?
Even hero calls this out as shown below
Narrator reply is this
Which shows this isn’t just “just the narrator interpretation” it’s actual factual truth.
Now you may say “she kills you if you flinch! She’s an animals” she is a traumatized reactive woman. As seen in proto beast (stabbing her) how you killed her was by a sudden movement, another sudden moment like flinching might give her a trauma reaction and plus let’s not forget she’s starving and scared.
(Edit)
While you might say her acting on base instincts proves how much of an animal she is but it doesn’t. Often times when in dangerous situations, without much time to think people fall back into instincts behaving animistically, but this doesn’t make them animals.
But it’s states best by this user on discord.
i will add you can be sentient while also reacting to things instinctually. no one acts like the hunted isn't sentient because of his instincts. plus she is genuinely starving in this chapter. she is essentially feral in a lot of ways but in the same way humans can be feral. it's a very human response to extreme stress and trauma to lash out, become unable to speak, fall back on ingrained habits and patterns i.e. attacking someone because they've hurt you or you feel you need to hurt them, etc. she just gets more dangerous limbs to lash out with than a static human would. acting solely on instinct (even instincts that aren't typically human especially for literally not a human) when running on systems designed to force those instinctual reactions (fight or flight mode, trauma, etc) does not remove one's sentience, and you can literally have conversations with her, like if you both get trapped separately under the rubble and she asks if it's her fault you both ended up like this and fully comprehends your varying responses
- logical_leaf in BTG discord [routes and spoilers; The Den.]
Now for freeing her, when you get trapped for yourself what do you guess this ‘animal’ does?
Leave you to die?
No.
She returns for you.
Any animal would have taken the opportunity to leave you behind but she doesn’t. She in fact acutally frees you.
Stubborn (aka fight) Den.
Now you may think stubborn den where you fight her and even descend into madness would prove she is nothing more than an animal but this does the exact opposite.
First of all the shame.
In both cases where you either embrace instinct or take the opening she feels not fear but shame, and over what she have done specifically.
now before you go “well dogs and other animals can feel shame” no they cannot.
Shame is as stated by dictionary (.com) is
the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another:
Shame ususally in context comes from feeling you did something wrong and or morally dubious.
Animal have neither of these concepts when say a dog breaks something it’s not shame there feeling it’s fear your going to hurt them, they don’t have a concept morality right or wrong.
Plus even if hypothetically animals could feel shame, what is den feeling shame for?
“What have we done?”
This is stated after violently or repeatly violently murdering each other and even if animals could feel shame I highly doubt any animal would feel shame for… Acting on instinct/engaging in other animalistic behaviors like consumption and violence.
This stems from a point of humanity and if she truly lost her humanity at this point she wouldn’t feel any of that, at best she would probably be upset she didn’t win or wasn’t able to kill what she thought was easy prey.
Now to answer some common arguments against this.
“Well she looks like an animal! So she is an animal and you are a zoo for liking animals!”
Please share where are the giant winged lions are irl and where can I fine them?/J
But I’m underage so I’ll rather not even humor this
Abby straight up said everything in this game was made to be hot so take it up to her for giving a ‘lion’ a snatched waist.
“Well you could get your face bitten off!”
Let’s see what else can happen?
Cut into a trillion pieces
Beaten to death
Disemboweled and tortured for millions of years
crushed by vines
Tortured via chains
Forced to kill yoirself
And alot more
In the grand scheme of things beast/den are actually safer than most princesses when it comes to dating.
Plus people often times fine all of those hot, so what’s wrong with anyone else being attracted to the fact you could be murdered at any time and at her mercy?
And before you say anything please don’t assume I want to fuck beast or den, some others might but bringing it up makes me deeply uncomfortable.
That’s it guys byeeee!
#art#slay the princess#stp#stp princess#stp beast#stp the den#essay writing#rant post#yapping#den spoilers#spoiler warning
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My own little spin on something I hold very close to my heart, I hope this is a lil something you're looking for!! <3 @your-boba-tea
Phantom theOpera!SatoruGojo x Fem!reader
Feat. Suguru Geto, Masamichi Yaga, mentions Ino, Maki, Miwa.
Tags -> Yandere!, mentions and implies hanging, stalking, violence, obsession, dark, mentions of death, manipulation, physical harm
“Alright people, that's a wrap for now, go take a break!”
You slouched and groaned, the heat of the stage lights practically melting your makeup from your cheeks all the while still hung in Suguru’s arms as your cue dictated.
“This corset is really starting to kill my hips, I don’t know if I can keep this going until the end tonight.” You pulled away from him and waved the director off, adjusting yourself and slipping off the little shoes so that your feet were now bare.
“You’ll do fine,’ Suguru said, sliding off his own jacket and folding it neatly over his arm. “You were made for this part and after you do this show tonight, you’ll breeze past the others.”
It wasn’t the first time you had taken to the stage alongside Suguru Geto and it sure wasn’t the last either. Being veteran’s on stage sure helped create chemistry like no other, in fact you had not met someone like Suguru who made everything so effortless. So exhilarating.
You started your walk off stage, raising your arms and stretching your back out as much as the corset would allow. “Yeah… I just wish Miwa would sew in more flexible fabric, I feel so stiff.”
"Given the time period, it’s incredibly accurate.”
A scoff fell past your lips, “I don’t know how people sang opera in these, I can barely breathe.”
“Yet you have the voice of an angel.”
“You flatter me too much, Suguru. Some people might think you have a thing for me.” You paused and eyed him closely and he stopped just as you did just shy of the gathered stage curtain.
As though on cue, Suguru and yourself cringed at the mere thought of a relationship. Suguru shook his head, “Don’t give me nightmares, I won’t sleep otherwise.”
The absurdity of it made you chuckle. “Come on, you love me really, right?”
Being as close as you were, the pair of you were often met with speculation and assumptions to what your relationship really was. The two of you often shared a dressing room for the hell of it which usually led others to think the worst in your eyes, though you didn’t care.
Suguru had seen you naked more times than you cared to think. Kissing on stage came as naturally as taking a breath. But he just wasn’t your type. And you weren’t his.
He shook his head and playfully shoved you with his shoulder as he led you down to the dressing room. “I wouldn’t go that far, you whine a lot and it makes my head hurt.”
“Pfft! We all know you’re the biggest diva here and you should have taken the role of Carlotta. Such a primadonna.”
Suguru had a complaint about anything and everything, often stalling his cue because his hair just wasn’t right. Poor Maki’s body language brought her close to blowing a fuse huffing in front of him to put that strand of hair back in place.
“I was sure Maki was going to throw that blow dryer at your head the way she was cursing to herself.” Shaking your head disapprovingly, you wandered towards the little set of stairs to the dressing rooms.
“Thirty minutes you two, don’t be late and miss your cue this time.”
“Yes Masamichi.” Why the man was even saying your name was a mystery, you were on stage perfectly on time during every rehearsal.
Suguru matched your pace and leant over so his mouth was as close to your ear as he could. “He said your name because you’re insufferable.”
“How am I?” One step at a time, you stomped down them with a huff. “At least I’m on time.”
“You left to get take out and ended up twenty minutes late-”
“That was one time, Suguru. I thought we’d dropped that already?” You stretched again and opened the door to your dressing room, he followed you inside.
A chill ran down your spine and spurred on goosebumps down your bare arms. “Man, this dressing room always gives me the creeps, I always feel like I’m being watched. I really ought to ask Masamichi for a new one.”
“Like he’d actually allow it this close to the opening of the show. You’ll be fine, just don’t think about it.”
You sat down and faced away from the weird looking doorway which had long been wallpapered over, but the paper lining always seemed to deteriorate quickly no matter how much paper covered it. By now, there were countless theatre posters and programmes from previous endeavours stuck along the door line to hide it.
“That’s easier said than done. It’s like I'm being leered at all the time by some weirdo.” You stared back at the sealed door and tried to cast it from the back of your mind.
“Maybe it’s the ghost-”
“Don’t joke about that stuff, Suguru!”
“What?” He dodged your poorly thrown pillow and did his worst to hide his laughter. “There is a ghost here… some might even say a phantom-”
“I said stop it! You aren’t funny. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
Suguru shrugged, flopping down on the little seat next to you in the corner and pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the dressing room door. “Do you remember the time that Masamichi called in sick and Gakuganji took over in his place for that week?”
You nodded with reluctance and Suguru continued his story. “He told me that there was a shadow of a man as tall as me running about the place up in the rafters with a scar running from his forehead, down to his chin. A phantom… And he just so happens to attach himself to one person in particular, wanting to give them tips and advice on how to improve their skill." He wiggled his fingers to enhance the creepiness. "I mean, who keeps giving you roses after each performance?”
“That’s you giving me roses every time, don’t act smart, asshole. And, now you’re just reeling off the plot for the performance tonight. You aren’t fooling me, Suguru Geto. I’m having a hard enough job trying to nail these notes, opera isn’t my strongest suit and I don’t need you putting childish stories into my head, you’re such a dick.”
“And…” He paused dramatically. “I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?”
You shook your head and frowned at him. “That was an accident and you know it. The ropes got all tangled, it can happen.”
“Can it? Did you ever stop and really think about it?”
“Stop, you’re creeping me out.”
Suguru sat closer and wrapped his arm around you for comfort, pulling you in and resting his head on yours. “I’m sorry, I’m only kidding. But who knows, maybe the ghost will show up in the performance tonight? Will you really be kissing Nanami as the Phantom? Or will it be the ghost- boo!”
You flinched at Suguru’s fingers moving to poke you through the uncomfortable corset. “Suguru you fucker!”
This time, the pillow did not miss.
He laughed again and climbed up from the chair to avoid the barrage of pillow swings. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding!”
“You better be!”
“Don’t be so dramatic, you scaredy cat.”
“I’m not dramatic, don’t be a shit stirrer!” Folding your arms angrily you got to your feet too.
His cheeky grin made your anger fester and he must have noted that because his expression fell just a little. “Wait here and I’ll get us a drink, you want some chocolate?”
“Of course. I do.” You poked your tongue out at him and watched him turn to leave.
“Anything for the lead star.”
“Ugh!” It was a little growl that left your throat once you were left on your own in silence. “He’s the insufferable one!”
Suguru Geto always pulled stunts like this. A main reason why he would never ever be your type of man to sweep you off your feet and cast in his arms towards the sunset. You wanted a man who cared for you and stopped others from putting you down whilst you lived your dream on stage.
The one thing you always wanted since you were a child.
And now you were doing just that.
Clearing your throat, you practiced some warm up and trilled your lips to loosen them and shivered. Turning to face the rest of the room, you froze on the spot and not because of the drop in temperature, but because the sealed door adorned with paper was now open.
It happened so…
You had no words. It just opened and you were none the wiser.
“Suguru?” You called to no one, the whistled draft filtering out of the long tunnel as though calling you to enter it.
“Suguru, this isn’t funny.”
Still, there was nothing.
You took one step at a time, creeping towards the threshold to hold onto the flapping papers taped to the door. “If this is a joke, it’s not a funny one.”
No one responded.
I didn’t even know there was a tunnel behind this door.
Leaning past the threshold, your feet remained stuck where they were in the safe confines of the dressing room. The closer you got, the more the whistling air sounded like words.
You gasped and tripped, falling back right onto the floor. The wind had spoken your name. “Who’s there?”
The ghost- you shook your head as hard as you could to push the words Suguru tempted you with from your head. Stories like that could not come true, just pure fiction and it startled you over a bit of wind.
Suguru would not let you live this down.
There came that sensation of being leered at, right down the end of that tunnel. It set every single alarm bell off in your gut, yet it did nothing to stop you from getting up and taking another look.
“Show yourself!”
Movement from the end of the tunnel took your breath away but it did not cast you away. You remained where you were and waited for another bump of movement. All that came was your name again.
Had time slowed down? You finally stepped over the threshold and planted your barefoot on the scratchy cement, little rocks and dust collecting on the soles of your feet yet you didn’t care.
Even blinking took effort, though walking towards the sound became effortless as if it was coaxing you towards it, begging you to just take one more step.
Just one more step.
And another.
One more.
A second had passed you thought, yet you were at the end of the hallway looking back towards the dressing room, noting how the door seemed to close on its own. You did not pay too much attention until you were off again.
“I should… go back.”
Should you? Was it a good idea, or a bad one? You weren’t even sure where you were anymore, but you did not care.
Suguru will be looking for me… when was my cue again?
Blinking became difficult, breathing laboured enough to make you light headed and unable to realise at first that you had finally stopped walking. You were left stranded in silence with only the breathing of the room as though it were a rickety old rib cage expanding and retracting and struggling to keep its shape.
“I should…”
You noticed the music immediately and it sort of brought you out of your thoughts for a brief period of time. Music you had never heard before. Beautiful music. Stunningly played and well written wit a dark drawl in its notes with a hint of sadness like an aftertaste.
Stepping into the room and down the three little steps, a corner of the room came into focus that hadn’t been there initially. Someone was playing on a grand piano that could have been taken from the orchestra pit upstairs, in fact the person playing such beautiful music could have been someone from the orchestra pit.
No. That was an insult to the player, for they were far beyond the orchestra’s limits. Whoever it was, played the notes in such a way that it made your eyes weep and dampen your cheeks.
“You..” What could you say to this mysterious stranger?
“So you finally made it then?” He said, his arms moving so delicately along the keys they almost never touched.
“Uh… I don’t-”
“Come over here.” He did not turn to you, he just kept playing.
And like that, your feet were taking you over there straight to the mystery man who bore no aggression to you for infiltrating his… home? He never showed care it seemed, not until you stopped right beside him and observed him play.
The music stopped abruptly, his breathing lulled you into a sense of security when he stood where the height difference mattered. “Welcome home.”
Home? You were not home… Wait, where were you?
This stranger smiled at you like you were familiar. Like how Suguru would treat you. This man was nothing like Suguru, white hair fairer than snow, perfectly brushed back and flat as though he was ready to take the stage on Masamichi’s cue.
You might have even called him handsome had you gotten a good look at him in the low lit room of flickering candles. Half of his face had been hidden by a face covering.
Just like the Phantom of the Opera…
“Who.. who are you?” You hadn’t pulled yourself from this trance you were in, but you were trying.
Was this who had been giving you the creeps from that dressing room this whole time?
“You don’t remember?” A flicker of annoyance moved past his face. His eye twitched a little whilst he studied your face.
“I don’t.” Shaking your head made the room spin. “I...I can’t remember you. I’m sorry.”
Now that the music had ended, you were certain that it was making you drowsy, so you intended to go back to your dressing room. He caught you as you turned to leave back the way you came, digging his nails into your arm and that seemed to wake you up.
“Ouch! Please don’t do that, I want to go.”
“I do so much for you and you repay me by doing this?” He almost growled, it stuck in his throat to threaten you.
“I really don’t know who you are, please let me go.” Tugging away from him only moved you. He stayed as he stood and glared at you like you had done something so unforgivable.
“Y’know, I waited. I bided my time until that weak little man left your dressing room for once to finally speak to you and you do this? You rub him in my face across the whole theatre like you know what you’re doing. Seeing that man kiss you makes my stomach churn and twist like it’s on fire- how could you do this?”
“I don’t know what you're talking about, I’m just a performer, it’s my job!”
“You’re so much more than that and you don’t even see it. I’m stuck down here, you’re a world apart and you are squandering it.” His tone was so calm, his grip never loosened. “He is stopping you from reaching your full potential.”
He, as in Suguru? You were fully aware of your situation and the room had twisted and morphed into something dilapidated and dusty. Forgotten. The pristine and perfect vision of music was shattered like glass.
“Please… Please let me go.”
“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
Reluctantly you shook your head and awaited his next emotional change, yet it never came. “This won’t do. You have a show tonight and I never miss your performances. I can’t keep you here, but if I let you go I’ll be forced to apprehend you if you try and leave.”
His expression was conflicted, his fingers around your arm never eased off and matched his wooden glare across the makeshift room. “You’ll do your part and I’ll come and get you after, no one will interfere, not if they don’t want another accident like last year.”
You couldn’t breathe, the air had gone from the room. ‘I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?’
“You can’t be the- Look, I don’t want any trouble, I just want to go back and play my role so I can go home!”
“And who do you think got you that starring role?” He yanked you back, closing the gap so that half of his exposed face was almost flush with your own. “I put your file on top of the pile when no one was looking. I got you that dressing room so we could be close to each other and I put those roses in your dressing room after every performance and you never noticed… I only want you to do your best.”
If the horrid pause in the room weighed any more, it would have crushed you. “I love you. I always have.”
Love? You didn’t even know the man.
“I’ll teach you, guide you and protect you so that you can be the best. But you have to trust me.”
That was the thing. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and he’d just admitted to stalking you and murdering someone.
It was paramount that you approached this with caution. “Okay… I’ll go now so I can get better for the show tonight.”
Fuck the show. I’m leaving and never coming back.
“You liar.” He said, his voice so low it was practically non-existent.
“What? No, no I promise!”
“Shit!" His breathing became ragged, his eye wider than before. "I have no choice... then you aren’t leaving until I can trust you.” He tugged your arm and pulled you towards the door you came through, kicking it shut and locking it tight right before your eyes. “You’ll just leave me like the others did, but I won’t be broken again.”
Others?
“I won’t, I’ll come straight back- please I promise I won’t do anything bad!” You struggled and pushed against him, never really noticing where your hands were moving.
You pulled the covering from his face and gasped at the long forehead to chin scar down his face, just like Suguru had said.
The Phantom was real?
The Phantom was real.
The Phantom was real and stood right in front of you, threatening your freedom with one tight grasp and an expression of hurt and betrayal laced in his eyes. Would you ever get past that locked door?
You missed your cue, again.
Cross posted on my AO3
Okay but HEAR ME OUT YALL
Gojo as phantom of the opera??? I’m screaming.
I WILL PAY FOR SOMEONE TO WRITE OR DRAW THIS IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES
#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#gojo#geto#fem reader#Phantom of the opera au#Phantom of the opera#gojou satoru x reader#suguru geto#yandere#jjk#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#geto suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru
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SEASON FINALE
After dinner, Morgan gets the kids ready for bed but Dirk paces back and forth throughout their bedroom waiting on her to come in. She finally makes her way into the room. Dirk is standing there watching her and a dark feeling fills her gut.
Morgan: What's wrong with you? Dirk: Nothing.
Morgan: Why are you yelling? What's wrong with you? Dirk: NOTHING IS WRONG WITH ME MORGAN!
Morgan: I need you to calm your ass down and talk to me like I'm a human being right now. Relax.
Dirk: This is a lot, Morgan. Morgan: What's a lot? Dirk: This. *waves hands in circle* All of this.
Morgan: What? The kids? The house? Me? Us? What?! Dirk: All of it. I don't... I can't deal with it.
Morgan: Please, Dirk, I swear to God. Tell me you're joking right now. Dirk: I'm not. Morgan: That's why you've been going on all these trips and staying out late?
Dirk: *Silence* Morgan: You piece of shit! You've been doing all that extra work to avoid being here with your family? THE FAMILY YOU WANTED?! Are you fucking kidding me?
Dirk: It's too much. There's noise non-stop and always something to do. There's never any real peace here anymore. Morgan: Dirk... This is what you wanted. This is what we wanted. Now, after all this time... You finally come home... You kids happy to see you... Just to say you don't like being around them?
Dirk: That's not what I'm saying- Morgan: That's exactly what you're saying. You made the bed and now you don't want to lay in it. You can't handle the pressure or responsibility. What the fuck Dirk?
Dirk: I'm just saying that I need a break. I can't do this all the time. Morgan: But fuck me, huh? I have to do it all the time? Fuck me? Dirk: Morgan that's not what I'm saying. *steps forward*
Morgan: Don't you dare touch me. Dirk: Morgan, I'm... Morgan: You don't have to say it. You show it every single day. You show it in the way that you act! Dirk: I do what I do to provide. That's why I work so much.
Morgan: Oh motherfucker, swallow it! Don't try to change the tone and mood now that you hear how fucking dumb you sound. I do what I do to provide. You do what YOU do to avoid. I get up everyday and make sure that everyone in this house has 3 meals a day, gas in their cars, clean clothes, a clean house to come home too while also still managing my business from home. I never miss a fucking programming meet. I never miss a fucking football game. I never miss a fucking soccer game, talent show, awards show, and anything that my kids do.
Morgan: How dare you say something so insensitive and degrading? Those 6 out there, love you. I love you and you stand right here and act like fuck this family. You hate being here- Dirk: I don't hate- *walks away*
Morgan: You do. You resent it. You thought you wanted to be a family man but you changed... just like the seasons. You'd rather work from sun up to ass crack, than be here to see the fruit of your seed. It's always been fuck me so I don't care how you treat me but you make a decision now. Dirk: It was never fuck you. Morgan: It was fuck me after you made me feel like shit for having a hysterectomy. Something that I dreaded. But you will not, NEVER disrespect the lives of my children.
Dirk: Morgan, I want to be here for them but... Morgan: But not all the time. I get it. So let me tell you your 2 options. 1 you either fully invest and be the best damn dad that you can be or.... Dirk: Or what?
Dirk: WHAT MORGAN?!
Morgan: Or you get the fuck out.
Dirk is caught off guard and his heart is broken. He feels awful about what's happening right now. He doesn't want it to end like that but he sees a look on Morgan's face that he's never seen before. She's checked out.
Dirk: Morgan do you hear what you're saying? Morgan: I hear myself loud and clear. Do you hear what I'm saying? I cannot deal with you and your "when I want too" attitude. It's annoying. It's aggravating. It's childish. I take up for myself and my 6 kids. They don't need someone in their life who wants to be there... ALL THE TIME. So what are you going to do? Dirk: That's not fair.
At the door, Daze and DJ are listening. Their own bodies shaking and full of fear about their parents. DJ is livid by hearing the words from his dad's mouth and Daze feels like regardless, they'll be okay.
Morgan: Get out. Dirk: Morgan, I.. Morgan: You can't even look me in my face right now and tell me that you want to be here. That you want this life because you don't. You want to leave.. It's in your body language, you just don't want us to be mad.
Dirk sighs full of defeat. Morgan shakes her head and steps out of his way.
Morgan: You win dude. Don't go through here slamming doors and being mad. Do what you gotta do in silence, don't wake up my damn kids. Dirk: Morgan. Morgan: Goodnight.
Daze and DJ scurry away as Morgan opens the bedroom door. She sees them but she is too livid to even scold them. She sits on the couch and waits as Dirk packs some suitcases to leave. He walks past her and pauses but she holds her hand up to stop him before he even speaks. She points at the door and Dirk walks by with his head down.
He can't even look back as he walks outside the large house. He hears the lock click behind him and he feels like to world's biggest loser. Inside Morgan sighs a achy, heart broken sigh. She goes to bed and holds her breath not wanting to address her kids tomorrow.
In the end, life goes on. Even if it means we grow apart.
#sims4#sims 4 screenshots#the sims 4#simblr#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4#the sims#sims#sims community#thesims#ts4 simblr#ts4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4 screenshots
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so me and Sam FINALLY watched the last season of Capaldi's Who
and tell me how, after literally over a decade and for perhaps the first time in his fucking career, Steven Moffat wrote a not just tolerable but really actually good two-parter and fully stuck the landing. like the editing and pacing were still a bit off but the storyline was original, fun, interesting and emotionally invested, and most importantly, rather than ending on a damp fart or the most furious autofellatio in history, the final part didn't fumble it and ended in a way that felt emotionally satisfying and like it made sense for the characters. like the last time he successfully wrapped up a multiparter in a way that didn't feel cheap and hollowly disappointing to me was literally The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, and a) that was in 2005 and b) tbh The Doctor Dances is about a tenth as compelling and memorable as The Empty Child.
so after 12 years of either hackery or great ideas that fall apart in the second act, Steven Moffat writes what I would genuinely consider to be a memorable Good Doctor Who serial. it ends with bittersweet pathos, a solid closer for all the main characters, and sends Moffat's showrunning career out on a genuine high despite failing ratings and budget cuts (and the fact Doctor Who hasn't been consistently good since about 2009). good job Steve. with grudging respect I admit you pulled it out of the bag on this one.
wait what's this there's one more episode left? and it stars Mark Gatiss? and you literally spend the whole episode inexplicably just shitting all over the legacy of Doctor Who by inventing a version of the First Doctor that bears literally no resemblance to the character that William Hartnell actually played, just so you can spend the whole episode saying misogynistic things to run yourself off to how much more Totally Feminist your version was than the version you made up in your head of what Doctor Who was like in the 60s? and it added literally nothing to the season except to take all the wind out of the sails of the actually good finale you already wrote?
even when he writes a good episode this fucker still finds ways to disappoint me.
#red said#as I remembered it is by a LONG shot the best that Doctor Who has been under Moffat and I do think giving Capaldi more creative control#helped a lot. cause he's a massive nerd and also he approximately knows how to construct a story.#bill is the first female companion Moffat has ever written with an actual fucking personality#(even if being mean that personality is maybe kind of just what you'd get if you put rose Martha and Donna in a blender)#(at least she's not a blank slate with the words SASSY. SEXY. written on it)#matt Lucas is genuinely surprising bc despite hating the man it's kind of impossible to not like Nardole by the end??#michelle gomez finally gets some room to get her Anthony Ainley on and be the Master PROPERLY#i was hooting and clapping my hands at the John Sim Master's dumb disguise#like the cast is GREAT#(and while he still can't shut the fuck up about her at least Moffat isn't shoving River fucking Song down my throat 24/7)#buuuuuuuut uhhhh the politics are. incoherent and the vibes are rancid in a lot of the episode plots.#they clearly WANT to do Social Commentary but weirdly keep bringing up colonialism and capitalism and then taking the side of the baddies?#how are you doing to do a piece about the British Empire colonising Mars with a posh villain and a whole comparison to the British Raj#then come down on the side of the British state? same with the ninth legion piece? and the zombie spacesuit one is fun#but it wraps up with 'and then they complained to upper management and capitalism ended forever the end'#uhhhhh in the one with the microbot colony again we conclude the Morally Correct Answer is colonialism#don't get me started on the monks plot which is a) literally just ripping off the Year That Never Was but without the emotional impact#but also b) has some really weird and genuinely fucked up ideas about both geopolitics and uhhhh consent????#so yeah the philosophical core is either incoherent or Fucking Horrendous in almost every episode#it's frequently derivative but tbh that's often to its benefit bc it vibes like trying to figure out what actually makes episodes memorable#and the budget is clearly cut to the bone bc the visual effects look worse than 2005 and the post edits are really weird and janky#like the pacing and ordering is weirdly off and a lot of the shot to shot transitions are awkward or confusing.#plus the sound design in the first few eps is. unhinged. it sounds like offbrand versions of standard stings it's all just Slightly Wrong#but for real i liked it more than I've liked any other season of Moffat Who. it's messy incoherent and often politically INFURIATING#but it has some actual heart and energy. and it feels like doctor who. and i would say moffat is spending like 10% as much time#wanking over his own past triumphs (and Alex Kingston)#and a lot more time like. trying to write something which works. he's not like successful 100% of the time. or even 50%.#but there's a lot more warmth and creativity. mackie capaldi and lucas have actual chemistry as a core cast#and i think it helps that everyone in the core cast is SO PSYCHED TO BE THERE. like it just wasn't a slog like all Moffat's other seasons.
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I fucking can’t today
#Im tired and overwhelmed and I’m so sick of being the only responsible person in my house#I can’t even do my fucking school work because my dog needs food made everyday and my mom said she would start it#so I could finish my math test#then 20 mins later my brothers banging in my door bc my dog needs to go out so I have to stop my test to do that#then I see the dog food hasn’t been started so I need to do that but I have to do the dishes to make that#so I do the dishes then I’m doing the food and my brothers getting food and getting in my way bc he just can’t wait 30 mins#and he leave shit all over the counter that I need so I have to clean up after him while making dog food#then I finally finish the dog food and I’m cleaning the dishes I used when my brother comes over and leaves more dirty dishes#one had shrimp in it and the butters all gross and the smell alone made me want to vomit but I had to clean it#and I’m almost done when my sister comes out and sad that my cat got in my room and killed one of my plants n got dirt everywhere#Plus my dad came home early so now my mom wants me to vacuum#oh and I have to go to the store with her whenever she decided she’s ready to make sure she gets what we need#I’m currently sitting in my bathroom trying to calm down because I’m gonna snap and either kill someone else or myself if I don’t get a#break#And I still need to finish my math test#screaming
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Why you all got ok mothers leave some for the rest of us
#hello?????#my mother had me exorcised when i was 16#or 17#my father beat my mother when i was a kid and would randomly lash out based on literally nothing#calling me (aged 3-14) and my mother cunts and whores and all kinds of slurs and threatening to beat or kill us#and every once in a while he'd just get up and leave for a week without telling anyone. we had only one car so mother had#to find alternative ways to get to work (grandparents had no car at the time) (we lived in a tiny rural village)#when he came back he never apologized and just told my mother 'you know how i am. what else do you even expect?'#he also threatened to beat me up whenever i cried or got scared or sad or embarrassed. i was not allowed to be anything but#happy. anger was also allowed but obviously not towards my parents. if i did that i would get locked in a room for several hours#if i self-harmed while locked in there i got yelled at but that just told me that i needed to self-harm more to please my parents#i think i internalised that because when i disobeyed them when i was very small (like...3-5 years) they'd spank me with a wooden spoon or#give me a strong head slap or two. i came to expect violence and when they stopped because it just made me more volatile#i felt the need to enact that expected violence upon myself.#i was unimaginably afraid for my life and for my mother's life until i was about 14. i used to pray for my father's death#but then again i prayed for my mother's death too#i had nightly night terrors about coming home from school and seeing blood everywhere and him kneeling over my mother's corpse#a lot of my good dreams revolved around killing him. i dreamed of coming home before he could kill her and stopping him#in a way i dreamed of being at least 50% safe.#both of my parents also beat me for being neurodivergent and lashes oit whenever i asked too many questions or couldn't#understand something. i always got either the r slur or i got told that I'm just playing a r*tard#to spite and anger them. everything i did in my life was specifically to anger them in their eyes.#i hated both of them so so much and i loved both of them so much and I didn't know how to put it all together#i hated that the father who took me to fairs and played football with me was the father whose touch had a 70 % chance of being violent#i flinched when seeing a hand move until i was 19 and screamed when getting hugged by anyone until i turned 17#my mother's physical violence was something other adults found funny - if she didn't spank me with a spoon; she'd#hit my arms until they got all red and numb and my crying just made her angrier. she still does this. I'm 22.#but when i accidentally ask the wrong question - the retarded one - when i do something to set her off she just hits my#arm until it doesn't even hurt anymore because i stop feeling it altogether. i don't cry because of the pain but because I'm scared#and sorry and embarrassed and guilty. and anyway we don't have tags left for my mother's abuse
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♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues
♡ FEM reader
Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…
You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either.
Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck.
The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.
Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.
He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right?
Fuck, he’s hungry.
“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.
The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.
It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked.
What the fuck’s going on with you?
He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.
He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.
No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.
He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.
“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”
His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”
“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him.
“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”
She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor.
What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies.
It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?
Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?
He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.
It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.
Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything.
But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.
No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.
And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.
“Hey…”
It’s you.
“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.
But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.
“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”
As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.
And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?
“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?”
No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?
“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”
It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?
“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”
You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”
“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”
You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”
Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.
“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”
“But—”
You shut the door. On him. In his face.
His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?
You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember.
Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?
He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex.
He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.
You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.
And yet, he can’t let you go, either.
He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.
How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?
He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!
He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.
He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.
But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.
“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.
You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.
“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”
You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…
You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault.
“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”
You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”
“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”
His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.
It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.
“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.
“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”
A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”
Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”
“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.
“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”
His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.
“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs.
A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.
“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”
♡ INSPO
♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere insert#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.
So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.
When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.
“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”
Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.
“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”
His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-
“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.
“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“
Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-
You want your damn drink back.
For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.
They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.
Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.
By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.
Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.
Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.
Part two
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☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.
A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!
Masterlist
If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman.
You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either.
Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart.
Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie.
“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-”
“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!”
It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels.
“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-”
“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?”
“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-”
“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.”
“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls.
“Like what?”
“Like a bitch!”
The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him.
No such apology came.
“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.”
“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-”
“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.”
You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered.
The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell.
From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi.
Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing.
Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.
Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up.
“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-”
“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away.
Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book.
“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused.
“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment.
“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?”
“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door.
“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible despite now feeling incredibly plussed.
“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?”
You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche.
“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.
A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat.
“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip.
“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.”
“Right… right…”
The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch.
Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours.
“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth.
“So?” he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away.
“Why are you really here, YN?”
You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second.
“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.”
You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh… Y/N, I-”
A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name.
“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out.
“He's just going to try it again.”
“Let him.”
You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions.
“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.
“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.”
“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-”
“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick.
“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all.
Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before.
“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-”
Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you.
“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now.
“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close.
“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position.
“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal.
“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?”
You shrugged and looked away almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night.
“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.”
Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in.
“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.
“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.”
“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”
Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.”
“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?”
You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well.
But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips.
You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again.
“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret.
“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.”
“So you did yourself?”
The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off.
“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation.
“Excuse me?”
“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?”
It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head.
“He didn't want me to.”
You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead.
You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world.
Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken.
You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter.
“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down.
“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear.
You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that.
A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend.
“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch.
You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically.
He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.
“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly.
But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket.
“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access.
“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.”
You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass.
“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive.
“Probably not.”
“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”
“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.”
You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you.
Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra.
“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh.
It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh, still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants.
It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you.
Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for.
He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time.
“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”
“N-no, S-s-”
“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap.
“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure.
“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-”
With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.
Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss.
“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you.
Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk.
“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax.
Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face.
The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure.
Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure.
Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him.
He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high.
“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close.
You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue.
“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear.
“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.”
His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist.
“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss a sweet, soft one.
“Yes.” He kissed you again and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again.
“H-He-”
“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.”
You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot.
You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.
He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock.
You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could.
“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again.
When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release.
“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time.
“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last.
“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”
His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access.
You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated.
“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.”
“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time.
“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.”
“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum.
“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut.
“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.”
“One more time?” He asked.
“Mhmmm… one more… one more, please.”
You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position.
You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more.
“Where should I cum Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again.
“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too.
“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?”
“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already.
“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away.
“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him.
“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further.
“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore.
“On your face?”
“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed.
“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”
“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.”
“Of course. Good job.”
He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you.
“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.”
“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.”
His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh.
You didn't say anything but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum.
“You're on birth control, right?”
“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.
Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well.
“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him.
“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently.
“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.”
He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again.
“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again.
“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away.
You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply and you lost your breath again.
“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.”
The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other.
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sheep!reader going to a party w rafe? 🤍
warnings: icky!s1!rafe, heavy teasing, drug use, kelce and topper are kinda gross, public groping, smoking, peer pressure (?), sheep is slightly embarrassed but too shy to say anything, a little bit of rough handling, suggestive language, rafe saying he’ll ‘share’ sheep..
a/n: season one rafe has me by my neck rn..
“well, look who we have here!” topper lifted his head from the white line he was about to snort off of the coffee table before scooting over, making room on the sofa for you and rafe to squeeze between him and kelce. rafe was all smiles when he pulled you onto his lap, your cheeks heating as you felt your dress ride up your thighs. “i didn’t think we’d ever see you at a party..” topper leaned in, the close proximity making a shiver run down your spine. truth be told, you didn’t think you’d ever be seen at a party either, but here you were, your boyfriend’s fingers slipping under your dress while two of his best friends watched you with lustful eyes.
it had taken a good portion of the evening for rafe to convince you to come out with him, your heart hammering in your chest the whole ride over here. not knowing what to say, you hid your face in rafe’s chest, all three of them laughing at your shy demeanor. “aww, come on, let us see that pretty face.” you stayed hidden, rafe’s large palm kneading your flesh as he reached for the bong on the table. “kelce, ‘you light me up?” you heard the flicker of a lighter, peeking up from rafe’s shirt as he inhaled from the glass structure, the sound of bubbles filling up your ears.
rafe took a long drag, holding the smoke in for a few moments before blowing all of it in your face, making you gasp softly before you started coughing. your eyes watered, the two boys on either side of you dabbing each other up as they found amusement in your obvious discomfort. “rafe..” you whispered, a pout adorning your lips while he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot on your neck. you couldn’t help the small whimper from leaving your lips, the sound drawing both topper and kelce’s attention. “damn, rafe, when are you gonna let us get in on this?” kelce placed a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.
“forreal, this shy little thing is just so cute.” topper added, his hand finding the small of your back. rafe could tell by the nervous look on your face that you weren’t sure how to react, his facial expression turning into one of amusement. “tell you what..” he stroked the side of your face, “give me a bump and we can share.” seeing the way your eyes widened was almost comical, topper wasting no time in scooping some of the blow onto his finger tip. “give this to him, sweetheart.” instinctively, you accepted his digit, letting him lay the blow on the back of your hand.
holding your hand up to rafe’s nose, he covered one of his nostrils, snorting the powder until only a little bit of residue was left. “lick it.” rafe gripped the back of your neck, him and his friends staring at you intently. “yeah, do it, baby.” “you’ll feel so good..” you swallowed thickly, your eyebrows drawing together as they watched your tongue lick a small stripe up your skin. apart of you was scared of the after effects of this stuff, but still, you obeyed. rafe was smiling ear to ear, his corruption kink going off the charts right now. “what the fuck!” topper laughed, both him and kelce sitting in disbelief.
“she really fucking did it?!” kelce moved closer, your boyfriend roughly grabbing your cheeks as he shook your head around. “of course she did,” he cupped you through your panties, “she’ll do whatever i tell her to.. right, ‘pretty?” you nodded, gripping rafe’s forearm as topper moved your hair to one side of your frame. “come on, man, just a taste.” rafe pulled you into a kiss, his palm coming up to cup your tits over the lacey material of your dress. despite his earlier words, rafe was far too greedy to share you with anyone. “not a fucking chance, thornton.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ icky!rafe#₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks rafe#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine
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Medical Emergency
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.
Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.
It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact.
It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse.
Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along.
So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused.
He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room.
“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”
He hadn’t even been told what had happened.
Then he saw you.
On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together.
But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him.
You looked…like you needed to be comforted.
Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails.
Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months.
“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”
Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper.
Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”
You just nodded. “Thanks.”
Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off.
He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital.
“This way.”
You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat.
“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”
“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”
Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back.
Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav.
By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given.
Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key.
Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key.
So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you.
Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs.
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
And you did.
Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window.
However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay.
Then you reached for him.
It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep.
Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed.
Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head.
Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours?
You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets.
And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest.
By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone.
How could you not tell me you were dating someone?
We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in.
Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?
Get better soon, honey xoxo
Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered.
One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks.
Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?
Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks.
And you did feel better.
The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so.
Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again.
So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy.
Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours.
Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home.
It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack.
“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”
You nodded. “Did you cook?”
“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it.
“Get off me, I’m fine.”
Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital.
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup.
“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”
You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”
“I made it.”
You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”
“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”
“So you did think about it.”
Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”
You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you.
You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything.
It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out.
Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter.
The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them.
But Jake had.
You took the top paper and looked it over.
“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”.
You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”
“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”
“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”
You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.
“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”
Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him.
“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”
He let your words settle over him.
“Who?”
“What?”
“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”
You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends.
“I would have fought them on it but-”
“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”
You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone.
“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”
“Jake-”
He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”
So you just nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. And eat up, too.”
You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”
“We do.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed.
“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”
“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”
You laughed a little at that one.
“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”
He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year.
So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car.
“Where are we going?”
He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did.
But then you forced yourself back to reality.
This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry.
But he didn’t leave you.
In fact, he was the only one to show up.
And the first to stay.
You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you.
“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”
He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”
“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”
It was a five minute walk to the bottom.
“Is it usually this empty?”
He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Jake asked, looking at you.
You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”
“Well…I’m not.”
You looked at him.
“To most people.”
It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade.
His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime.
For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time.
“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him.
“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”
“And you don’t believe me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”
You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach.
“Y/n.”
You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body.
“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”
Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him.
“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”
Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him.
And what did he mean by again?
You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him.
You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out.
Worst of all, he caught you.
You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest.
“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out.
But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
“But what about our stuff?”
“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”
Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand.
And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun.
You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer.
Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax.
So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun.
And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too.
“Come and look at this.”
Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him.
Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Can you stand?”
You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way.
“What am I looking at?”
It was a starfish.
The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water.
By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport.
A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them.
“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”
“Are you saying…you…like me?”
You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”
“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”
“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him.
Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”
You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”
It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman.
They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling.
“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”
Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”
Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake.
“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”
Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”
Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”
Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”
“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”
“Love is blind, as they say.”
For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart.
And then they watched as you walked home.
Together.
It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other.
Verbally or otherwise.
“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”
“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”
“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”
“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”
You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”
“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”
“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”
He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”
Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”
“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”
“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”
You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”
He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Night, Sweetheart.”
He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home.
The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch.
Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends.
Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said.
However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating.
Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?
It couldn’t be…could it?
And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school.
It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not.
Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off.
Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it.
Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks.
It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner.
Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work.
Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it.
Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class.
“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?”
Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door.
“You okay?”
You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside.
“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”
As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number.
“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”
“Jake.”
“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”
“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”
Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”
“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”
You didn’t answer.
“Y/n.”
“I’m here.”
Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else know you’re there?”
You explained what happened as best as you could.
“Just, please get here soon?”
“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”
You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake.
Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall.
He stepped inside before crouching down.
“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”
Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”
“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”
You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”
Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up.
“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”
You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly.
Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse.
By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you.
“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”
Oh shit.
“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”
“We’re- We’re not together.”
A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people.
By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress.
Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck.
It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own.
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”
You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”
“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”
You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”
“I’ll stay.”
“A-are you…sure?”
Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”
You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”
You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”
It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year.
Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him.
So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up.
Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep.
Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom.
Then he heard you.
From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you.
“Hey, everything-”
“Can I stay with you?”
Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”
Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side.
Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him.
“Is this okay?”
He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed.
“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”
Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other.
“Good.”
Not too long after that, you both fell asleep.
And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move.
If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning.
And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about.
“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him.
“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you…like me.”
Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”
“Jake.”
Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you.
“Do you trust me?”
You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it.
“Yes.”
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”
He seemed nervous.
“Can I kiss you?”
If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl.
But no.
He asked.
And something in your gut jumped.
So you answered; “Yes.”
Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life.
You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together.
Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight.
No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said.
Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm.
“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work.
“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”
Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm.
“I’ll meet you here, after work?”
That made you smile. “Okay.”
Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed.
“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”
With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle.
“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”
One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him.
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags.
He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head.
“See you tonight?”
“See you tonight.”
The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you.
And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
You smiled.
“Hey, Sweetheart.”
“You’re back.”
You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”
“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”
He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”
“I know, but I needed the distraction.”
Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day.
“Distraction from what?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Nothing, huh?”
At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck.
“Jake.”
The way you said his name went straight to his dick.
As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”
Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him.
“Have you been thinking about me?”
Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” your voice came out breathy.
“Is this okay?”
You nodded.
“I need words, darlin’.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”
As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him.
And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion.
You didn’t hate him anymore.
You hadn’t hated him for a long time.
All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo-
The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for.
And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t.
Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you.
And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long.
By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.
Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest.
“Good morning.”
“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”
With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off.
“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”
He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”
“Oh really? Like what?”
With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”
Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite.
“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”
“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck.
Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so.
You laughed. “No it’s not.”
He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”
“How do you know this is yours?”
With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”
Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie.
A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before.
J.H.S
“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”
And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”
“Jake…”
“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”
“I want to date you.”
He looked up at you.
“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”
“I want you around, too.”
“So, yes.”
Jake smiled. “Yes?”
You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”
Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head.
It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked.
And lost a lot of money.
But Penny won it all.
She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.
#jake seresin x you#hangman x you#hangman#top gun hangman#top gun maverick#tgm#jake 'hangman' seresin#fluff#enemies to lovers#x reader#x fe!reader#angst#he takes care of her#steamy moments#brother's best friend#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x you#falling in love#kissing#jake hangman fic#jake hangman imagine
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old man!logan x fem!reader
masterlist
— nothing was going right for logan tonight. work was shit and his body ached with indescribable pain. the only thing he wanted to do was crawl home to you.
"l-lo...?"
your sleepy voice was barely audible. logan tried to be quiet as he came into the house later than usual.
"hey, princess." he mutters, ridding himself of his suit jacket and slipping off his shoes.
"come lay down with me." you beg softly, wanting him to scoop you up into his big arms and cradle you like a delicate little thing.
"in a minute..." he replies, kneeling down at the foot of the bed. "wanna see my girl."
logan pulls the thin sheet off of your body; only covered by one of his shirts and a pair of lavender panties. nothing special but he adored them anyways.
"looks like she missed me too." he groans, swiping his thumb over the wet spot that grows in between your legs.
still half asleep but moaning quietly into one of the pillows next to you.
lately this is all he's been wanting to do when he returns home. lay in between your legs either slowly making out with your cunt or fingering you until you're on the verge of tears. not that you minded this sudden change, never rejecting logan from his acclaimed spot between your thighs.
"gonna let me spend some time with her, sweetheart?" he says, not expecting a verbal response.
you lazily nod your head and lift your hips a little so he can pull down your panties, tossing them aside.
"atta girl."
the low rumble in his voice left you whimpering. like a tease, logan spreads your folds, watching your arousal leak from within you. he loved splitting you open and seeing his affect on you.
"what's gotcha so soaked, baby?" he coos at your cunt, blowing a little air on it and watching how your body responds to it, hips wiggling and hole clenching for him.
"she's just cryin' for me, huh?" he chuckles, lifting your tired legs back near your head as he towers over you.
"p-please..." you whine, looking up at him with glossy eyes.
without saying a word, logan slips his middle and ring fingers inside of you, nudging that sweet spot of yours. a choked moan escapes you and your hands fly to his wrist. what's usually gentle soon turns vigorous at the pace he's moving.
"uh- fuck!" you gasp, fully awake now. " 's too much, lo."
"you can take it, sweetheart." he says sternly as his other hand draws circles on one of your legs, holding them in the air.
heat pools in your belly as you scratch your nails down logan's wrists. he can't help but adore the little 'uh-uh-uh's' spilling from your plump lips. the lewd slaps of slick fill the room as his pace picks up, bumping his fingertips against the spongy spot inside of you.
"d-don't stop, please." you beg, staring up at him with glossy, glazed over eyes. soft little mumbles of "pleasepleaseplease" ringing in logan's ears like his favorite song.
"fuck, practically cutting off my circulation." logan grunts before spitting on your button and using his thumb to stimulate you further.
all that can be heard are your incoherent babbles and logan's grunts of encouragement. his thick rough fingers stretch you in ways you didn't think were possible.
logan leans down to kiss your trembling lips, grunting at the little whimpers that escape. the fast slaps of his palm on your clit makes you bite down on his lower lip, healing so quickly that you don't even taste any blood.
"c'mon princess..." he groans, pulling apart just enough to speak. "be a good girl and soak my hand for me."
in that moment, his fingers inside of you are perfectly timed with the circles his thumb draws, sending you into a state of nirvana. panting and moaning against logan's lips while he praises you.
"that's it, sweetheart."
"there's my good girl."
once your heart rate returns to normal, logan cleans you up with a small rag before laying down in bed next to you. his muscular arms wrap around you and pull you in so he can spoon you.
"miss me that much?" you ask with a small chuckle as he kisses your neck.
"mhm, had another shitty day and needed to spend some time with my girl." he answers, words muffled by your hair.
"aw, i'm sorry baby." you turn over to face him, pecking his lips. "anything i can do to make it better?"
"it's already better now, honey." he reassures, brushing hair out of your face.
"too bad...." you smirk. "was gonna offer to ride you."
logan's eyes darken with lust as you move to straddle him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. warm hands roam around his shirtless torso, innocently drawing lazy outlines of his abs.
who could blame you for wanting to be an attentive girlfriend?
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman wolverine#wolverine angst#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#lottie matthews#logan wolverine#old man logan#old man!logan#old man logan x reader#wolverine x oc#wolverine fluff#wolverine one shot#wolverine x you#x men wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#marvel cinematic universe#x men comics#marvel#marvel mcu#mcu#x men
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