#when it comes to parents you're already off to a terrible start if you're a Bad Parent then 3 don't interact w/ crystal
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The worst part is that if Scarlet wasn't a parent, she'd be all for the behavior. It's genuinely the parental aspect that does it because wow does it bring up the bad trauma. Which isn't a great thing to do with someone who's very pro-permanent solutions to her problems.
#my kingdom ;; ooc#It Is Hopelessness ;; Crystal#girl is a horrible person who also likes horrible people but#when it comes to parents you're already off to a terrible start if you're a Bad Parent then </3 don't interact w/ crystal#it would be a short thread and i'd feel bad having to likely kill a muse in front of god and everyone /srs
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She Wolf
A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!
Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!
Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)
divider credit here
“Are you ever gonna tell him?”
You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.
“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”
You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.
You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.
Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.
“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.
“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.
Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.
“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”
You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.
“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.
He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”
Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”
She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.
It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.
“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.
“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.
“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.
“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.
“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.
As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.
Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.
“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.
“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”
It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Definitely not my type of girl.
“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.
“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.
“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.
“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”
“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”
“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.
Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.
“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.
The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.
“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.
Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.
“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.
“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”
“Only one way to find out.”
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.
It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.
Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.
“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”
“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.
“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”
“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.
He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.
“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”
Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.
Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.
“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.
“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”
Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.
“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.
“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.
“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.
“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.
“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.
Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.
“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.
“Hey, you wanna dance?”
He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.
“Sure, why not?”
As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.
“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.
“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.
“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”
“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.”
“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”
Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.
The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.
“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.
“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.
“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.
She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.
And you were with a guy.
Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey
It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way
“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.
“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”
“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.
That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys
I just want to enjoy
By having a very good time
And behave very bad in the arms of a boy
You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.
The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”
You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.
“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.
“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Let it out so it can breathe
“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.
“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”
“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.
“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.
“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”
What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.
“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.
“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.
“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”
“What was that? You’re welcome - “
“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”
“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”
He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”
None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.
You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”
“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”
You hugged her back.
“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.
“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.
“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”
The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.
“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”
You understood what she meant immediately.
“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”
“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”
Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.
You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.
“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”
“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.
“And I can’t want it either?”
That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.
You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Leave me be.”
You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.
“Logan.”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.
“Move.”
“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “
“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.
“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.
You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.
“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”
Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.
“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”
“Why do you care?”
You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.
“Stop.”
You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.
You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“
“I’m not.”
He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.
“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.
“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”
You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.
“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”
You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.
“It worked, are you happy?”
“No, I’m not - “
“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”
You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.
“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.
“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.
“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.
You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.
“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.
He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.
“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”
Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.
“Save me the trouble of what?”
You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.
“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”
You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.
“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”
You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.
“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”
All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.
“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.
“Logan.”
Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.
No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.
“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.
You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.
“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”
“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”
After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.
“Did it work?”
His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.
You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.
“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”
Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.
Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.
You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.
When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.
“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.
“Agreed.”
His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.
He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.
“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”
“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.
“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.
He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”
His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.
“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.
Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.
“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.
“Please what, baby?”
“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.
He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.
“Can I take this off you, baby?”
You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.
“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”
He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.
You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.
“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.
“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.
Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.
He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.
You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.
“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.
“Yeah?”
His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.
“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.
You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.
“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”
He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.
He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.
A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”
It was Scott.
You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.
“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.
“You sure?”
You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.
“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”
Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.
Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.
“Logan, I’m - “
“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”
His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.
“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.
“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.
He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.
“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.
Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.
“You’re into pain, huh?”
You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.
“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.
When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.
“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.
You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.
“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.
“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.
You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.
Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.
“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.
“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.
“Feels good?”
It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.
“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.
“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.
That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.
He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.
“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.
“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.
He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.
“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.
“Bite me.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”
“Please.”
You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.
He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.
“Please.”
His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.
You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.
Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.
“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.
“Want me to stay?”
“Mhm - please.”
The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”
The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.
“Really?”
“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”
You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.
“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.
“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.
Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.
“You can make it up to me some more.”
───────♡──────────────♡───────
A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#wolverine
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Gentle With Mama
Stepmom!Wanda x Reader
After waking up next to Wanda for the first time in years, you find yourself rediscovering who taught you to be gentle.
CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, wet dreams, MOMMY ISSUES, breastfeeding, size kink, strap ons, first time? (kinda?), flashbacks, dacryphilia, R is a terrible fuck.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This one is straight up Freudian filth, but I'm unironically proud of it so be nice to me.
A/N: There will be a third part to this eventually, but don’t hold your breath I’ve got a lot of other WIPs I’m going to try to finish first.
Part 2 of Her Special Girl
Wanda was almost embarrassed of the way her heart sang when she woke up with you in her arms the next morning. You were home! Her baby is finally home!
She hadn’t really even realized how much she’d missed until you’d come back. Sure she thought about you everyday, wondered how you were doing, slept in your bed when she found herself unable to sleep, wore your hoodies around the house, fantasized about you while she…okay so maybe she had missed you more than she cared to admit.
She giggled when she peeled the covers up to find both your thighs and hers covered in cum, as well as the sheets and the blankets. “Aww my sweet girl,” she cooed, pulling your head up under her chin. She kissed the top of your head stroking it gently with her thumb. “Did you have a good dream?” Even in your sleep, she could’ve sworn she felt you nod.
It was tempting to shake you awake now. Maybe she’d even make a little fuss about the mess you’d made, watch your face get all red with embarrassment while you tried to hide under the blankets, covered in your own slick. God you’d be so cute. And she was willing to bet you’d do anything to make it up to her, little doe eyes pleading for forgiveness over something Wanda was not even upset about in the first place. She could have you as putty in her hands all morning.
She shook the thought from her head. As tempting as it was, you’d had a rough week already. She opted instead to grab the discarded towel from last night and use it to clean herself up. Then she pulled back the blankets, smiling when you whined and grabbed around for them in your sleep. “Shh, detka. Keep sleeping. Mama’s gonna get you all cleaned up.”
She gently wiped you down with the towel, shushing your whines as the cool fabric hit the warm skin of your thighs. You moaned when the fabric hit your core, stuttering your little hips against the fluffy towel. Wanda chuckled. “Settle down, honey. You're gonna get yourself all worked up again.”
When she finished with the towel, she pulled a sheet from the closet. She climbed onto the bed between your legs, lifting you off the bed while she scooted the clean sheet underneath you. She heard a sleepy little whimper in her ear as she lifted you up against her chest. “Mama?”
She laid you back down against the clean sheet, pulling up the duvet to tuck you back in. “Shh, it’s okay little love. Go back to sleep.” She wiped the hair off of your sleepy face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
She wadded up the wet blanket, throwing it into a pile with the towel. You groaned. The extra blanket was definitely missed without any clothes on in the middle of winter. Your face reddened as you started to realize she was cleaning up a mess. Probably your mess.
“Did I wet myself last night?” You asked, sitting up in bed as panic started to build in your chest. Did you seriously just wet the bed at 22 years old? Did you seriously just wet your parents bed at 22 years old?
She sat down next to you pulling you in to kiss your head. So much for not embarrassing you. “You made a little bit of a mess, but it’s okay. Mama took care of it. It wasn’t a potty mess, if that’s what you're worried about. My sweet girl just had a really good dream is all. You don’t need to be embarrassed, honey.”
“O-okay,” you nodded, still blushing fiercely as you curl into her. You were unsure if it was more or less embarrassing that you’d cum in sleep rather than having pissed the bed. Still, you were able to relax into her, recalling bits of the dream that had caused the mess in the first place. “Mama?”
“Yes, little love?”
“It’s not a bad thing to have naughty dreams, is it? Cause, like, you’re asleep and you can’t control it.” You couldn’t look her in the eyes as you spoke.
Wanda chuckled and kissed the top of your head. She knew your shame well and never wished to perpetuate it anyway. “No sweetheart. It’s not a bad thing.”
You nodded shyly. “Not even if they’re about mama?”
Wanda smiled, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “Especially not if they’re about mama, honey.” She squeezed you tight, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. She bent and whispered in your ear. “Sometimes mama has naughty dreams about you too.”
You smiled up at her, kissing her jaw before kissing your way further down her body. You rubbed your hands over the soft expanse of her stomach, admiring each curve and dip with endless wonder, caressing her with gentle hands. You traced the stretch marks that littered her side, curving upwards from her underbelly and her hips.
She’d always loathed this part of herself. She never, for a second, regretted her boys, but she could not deny the havoc having twins wrecked on her body. Two babies meant she grew bigger all at once, leaving her skin stretched grotesquely. She hated when people brought any attention to at all.
Yet, when she looked down at your face, she could not bring herself to ask you to stop. You look at her with a wonder she’d never experienced before. The innocent look in your eyes was not one of someone trying to console her about her broken body, but one of pure worship. It had never even crossed your mind that such attributes could be considered ugly. To you, she was nothing short of pure perfection.
You kissed her just below her navel, nuzzling your nose in the space above it. You hummed contentedly, resting your head on her stomach, rubbing small circles on her lower abdomen.
But after a while, your face fell from one of contentment and joy, to one of an almost sad longing.
Wanda noticed the shift immediately. “Is everything alright, love?”
You paused, unsure of what to say without making it weird. You could barely speak above a whisper. “It’s not fair.”
Wanda tried to pull you up her body so she could hear you better and give you comforting kisses, but you were cemented in place. “What’s not fair, detka?”
“I didn’t get to grow inside of you. I had to grow inside of some rotten woman who doesn’t even love me anyway!” Frustrated tears pricked your eyes. Nothing was fair. Your hands continued to gently caress the womb you envied. “I hate her! She was never my mama!”
Wanda sighed, playing with your hair. She held an equal amount of hatred for your mother, if not more. Her lack of dedication and responsibility towards you had always been equal parts confusing and infuriating. “I’m sorry, detka. I’m sorry she doesn’t treat you like the special, important little girl you are. You deserve so much better than her. She doesn’t deserve to call herself your mother.” Wanda pulled you up her body again, this time dragging you up by force. She needed you closer.
You conceded allowing her to slide you up the bed and tuck your head under her chin. She gently petted your hair and rocked you against her, shushing your cries and wiping away your tears. “Why doesn’t she love me?”
Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t understand how any mother could treat their child so carelessly, least of all when that child was as brilliant and wonderful as you were. “Because she’s only ever looking out for herself. Because she’s so blinded by her own misery to see what a beautiful thing she has created.”
Your hand gently caressed her chest, feeling her nipples harden under your fingertips. She shivered under your touch, watching you as you looked longingly at her chest.
She recalled a random conversation she’d once had with your mother in which she had said she didn’t breastfeed any of her children because it was quote “not her responsibility to get up in the middle of night when the baby got hungry.”
God I would’ve been so much better at being your mother. I would’ve stayed up all night just to watch your sweet little face as you nursed.
She smiled sadly. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she had you here with her now. She couldn’t change what you did and didn’t have then, but she could give it to you now.
“Come here, sweet girl. You can suck on mama. It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She manually parted your hesitant lips with her thumb, allowing you to take her into your mouth. “That’s it sweet girl,” she cooed, stroking her hands through your hair. She ran her knuckle over your soft cheek, still covered in fine baby fuzz. Your lips were soft and warm around her. She thought she’d never get tired of the sight or the sensation.
For a moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Despite never actually having been breastfed, your body knew instinctively what to do. It’s like it had been waiting all along, for Wanda to come around. You sucked at her with effortless rhythm, perfectly massing her nipple with your tongue. But then, a new sadness and longing creeped into your mind. There was no milk here. There was no milk here for you, and there never was because she was never truly yours.
You pulled away, shrinking back down her body. You clutched at her waist, nuzzling into her so hard it was like you were trying to crawl under her skin. You wanted to be inside of her where you'd be safe and warm and comfortable. You needed to be inside of her. It felt like the only thing that could quell the aching in your heart.
“Mama?”
“Yes, little love?”
“Can I…?” You pressed on her lower abdomen in indication. “Please?”
She looked down at you, your big soft eyes pleading with her. How could she ever deny you anything? “Aww sweetheart, do you wanna be inside mama?”
You nodded eagerly, still clinging to her lower half.
She stroked your temple with her knuckle. “Alright, honey. You can be inside mama. You just have to be gentle. Can you do that? Do you remember how mama taught you to be gentle?”
You laid with your head pressed to her stomach, recalling what it meant to be gentle.
—————
“I’m scared, mama,” you said, voice shaking slightly. You were 18 again, a newly deflowered girl who was yet to explore anything beyond a few fingers. The two of you’d been talking about this for a couple weeks now, and you were sure you wanted to try it, but you were still so nervous. “Is it gonna hurt?”
Wanda gently slid a soft towel under your butt. She warned you that you might bleed a little tiny bit, since it was your first time. “It might. But it will only hurt for a little bit, I promise. And then you’re going to feel so so good, baby. I just know you’re gonna love it.”
Wanda knew what she was getting herself into here. She knew the moment she was inside of you, you were going to be hooked on the feeling. She had no doubt you’d be begging for her strap every single time you were alone together.
And god she could nearly cum from the thought alone.
You, sitting at her feet while she worked, begging to be fucked just one more time. You, falling apart as she buried herself inside of you. You, incoherently mumbling her name while you cried on her big toy.
Deep breaths. She had to pace herself. This was only your first time after all.
“Mama’s gonna be so gentle, okay? And if you don’t like it, we can stop and you don’t have to try it again,” she cooed.
You nodded. Poor thing, you looked like you were already about to cry and she hadn’t even touched you yet.
“It’s okay to cry, sweetheart,” she insisted, more for her own purposes than for your comfort. She stroked your cheek gently, watching the first of many tears roll down. “It’s okay. Mama’s got you. Take a deep breath for me honey.”
You nodded again, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “I trust you, mama.”
“I know, love. Mama’s gonna take good care of you.” She opened a little bottle on the side table. “Now this is gonna be a little cold, okay?” She said before pouring a little bit of lube down your folds. She slowly massaged it inside of you with her fingers, shushing your little squeaks of discomfort as the cool liquid hit your most sensitive parts. Then she massaged a generous amount onto the shaft of her toy.
She could have, admittedly, gone a bit smaller for your first time. But, as much as she didn’t want to hurt you, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm on a bigger toy. It wasn’t anything outrageous, of course, but it was still a generous 8 inches and probably twice as thick as the three fingers you’d had inside of you before.
She slid the tip of the toy through your center, wiggling it against your clit. You shivered at the new sensation, your nerves still growing inside of you. She lined the toy up with your entrance. “Okay, baby. Take a big deep breath for me.”
You did as instructed, taking in a long shaky inhale, and exhaling. On the exhale though, she pushed the first inches of the toy inside of you. You cried out, flailing around underneath her as she pushed into slowly. Your hands shot down between your legs, pushing against her lower abdomen to keep her from pushing in any further. “Mama please, please mama it hurts.”
She took your hand from her stomach, gently placing it over your head. She intertwined her fingers with yours, allowing you to squeeze her hand as much as you needed. “Shh baby, it’ll only hurt for a second. I promise it’ll feel good in a minute. Just trust me love.”
You bit your lip hard, but nodded your head, allowing her to keep going. You whimpered and cried with each cruel inch that made its way into you, but eventually she stopped.
“That’s it baby. It’s all the way in. Aww, sweet girl mama’s so so proud of you. I know it hurts baby but you’re doing so good,” she praised, kissing away your tears and softly caressing your face. Her body was flushed with yours. You squeezed her hand, trying to relieve some of the pain.
She whispered soft words of comfort and soothed you while your face slowly shifted from contorted in pain, to mindless with pleasure. She used her free hand to wipe your hair from your forehead. “There you go sweet girl. Does it still hurt?”
You shook your head. “N-no. I just feel… you.”
She kissed your forehead gently. “I’m going to start moving now, okay? Just tell me if it hurts again and I’ll stop.”
You nodded, wrapping your free arm around her back, clinging to her. Your other hand still squeezed hers.
She started slow, just as she promised she would. It stung, a little, but more than anything, you just felt full of her. It felt heavenly. You weren’t sure how you’d live your entire life without it. You wanted her buried inside you forever. Anything less, you thought, would be unsatisfactory. You’d felt heaven, and now you’d never be satisfied on Earth.
Almost unintentionally, you scratched her back, leaving red tracks down her spine. She gasped and thrust into you. You cried out, freeing your other hand from her grip and wrapping it around her back, now clinging to her with both arms.
“I’m sorry baby,” she whispered, kissing your temple in apology.
“It’s okay, mama,” you mumbled, face buried in her shoulder. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t leave me.” You wrapped your legs around her waist, holding her inside of you.
Wanda knew in that moment, she had you hooked. She rocked into you faster, your old bed creaking with her movements. You whined and whimpered with each thrust, but matched her hips with your own. You were so desperate for her, so desperate for her to make you hers.
“I-I love you. Mama I love you. Please don’t stop. Please mama never… I want you inside of me forever. Please, you feel so good,” you rambled breathlessly, clawing into her back. You hadn’t stopped crying through the whole ordeal. You were unsure when the crying had turned from pain to pleasure.
She breathed heavily in your ear, your desperate clinging forcing her to double her efforts. She was only spurred on by your scratching. Each jolt of pain sent her hammering into you harder than before. “You’re doing so good, baby. Mama’s close, honey. Oh love, just like that. You’re gonna make mama cum.”
You felt her hips stutter as she came, finally collapsing breathlessly on top of you. She laid there for a few moments before reaching down between your legs to pull the toy out.
“No! Mama please don’t take it out yet. Please just a little longer. Just for a little bit while we cuddle,” you pleaded.
Wanda laughed breathlessly. “Okay, sweet girl. We can leave it there for another minute longer. But then you have to sit up and drink some water.”
She laid on your chest, letting you play with her hair. You ran a gentle hand over the long red lines that covered her back, occasionally hitting a spot that would make her wince.
“Oh! Careful detka. You gotta be gentle with mama,” she said.
You bent down and kissed her back, brushing your hands over the scratches more lightly this time. “Gentle with mama,” you repeated, coddling her body until she fell asleep inside of you.
—————
You nodded. Gentle. You remembered gentle.
“Okay, detka,” she chuckled. “I’ll go get it.”
She hopped up off the bed, heading into your bedroom. She kept the secret toys in the top of your old closet with the remainder of your clothes, a place she knew your father would never look. She pulled down an old duffle bag that had remained almost entirely untouched since you left.
She returned with a large scarlet strap, your favorite, already secured to a harness. You excitedly clambered off the bed, allowing her to help you buckle it around your waist.
You were tempted to pull her into a bruising kiss right there, back her up until her knees hit the bed, and push yourself inside of her until you both forgot where you ended and she began.
But you promised to be gentle. So you would be gentle.
You waited for her to crawl up on the bed before crawling up behind her and kneeling between her legs. She reached back to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer at the side table, reaching down to rub a generous amount onto the strap.
She smirked when you whined, bucking and twitching against her hand like you could actually feel her movements. With how reactive you were, she was sometimes genuinely convinced you could.
“Already, honey. Nice and slow for mama,” she instructed, allowing you to start slowly pressing yourself into her.
You did as instructed, lining yourself with her entrance and watching in fascination as her body took more and more of you inside of it. Your eyes went wide and you watched a small bulge form at the base of her abdomen. In a moment of excitement, you pushed yourself all the way inside of her, bottoming out unexpectedly.
“Fuck!” She shouted, hands immediately pushing your hips back.
“Sorry sorry sorry!” You apologized frantically. You hadn’t meant to hurt her, you’d just gotten excited. Your hand ran gently over her abdomen, instinctively trying to soothe the pain you’d caused.
“It’s okay baby. Just nice and gentle for mama. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded eagerly. Slow and gentle. You could be slow and gentle. Just like she taught you.
You tried again, this time succeeding at a slower pace. You reached down to touch the bulge in her stomach. Your heart raced with excitement. That’s me! That’s me inside of mama!
You started to slowly rock your hips back and forth, whimpering as you watched the bump in her stomach slowly move. “Mama…”
Wanda had her head tossed back over the pillows, head spinning with the sensation of being so incredibly full. “That’s it, baby. That’s my sweet girl, being all nice and gentle for mama,” she moaned. “You can start moving, sweetheart.”
You moved slowly at first, clearly very nervous to accidentally hurt her again. But after watching the rhythmic movement of the bulge in her stomach for a few minutes, your thrust became more erratic. You rutted into her with absolutely no rhythm, your own head spinning with too much excitement to care.
Words like “slow” and “gentle” were forgotten to the wet sound of her cunt swallowing you. You panted pathetically, whimpering as thoughtlessly chased your own pleasure.
Two hands fell on your hips, stilling them and forcing you out of her. “Okay, honey,” she chuckled, amused by your lust blown eyes pleading with her to let you keep going. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”
She grabbed you and flipped you over, pinning you underneath her. She straddled your waist. “Now just be a good girl and lay down for me just like that. Mama’s gonna have her turn now okay?”
You nodded eagerly, propping your head up with pillows so you could look at her.
She lined the toy back up with her own entrance, slowly lowering herself down onto it. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the beautiful woman, in complete ecstasy as she took your toy down to the last inch. She threw her head back, moaning with unrestrained pleasure.
Your hands clambered up her body, desperate to grab a hold of anything at all. She took one of your hands in hers, flattening it out and placing it against her lower abdomen as she rode you. “You feel that baby? That’s you, honey!”
You nodded dumbly. “Inside mama.”
“That’s right, detka. You’re inside your mama,” she cooed. “Oh fuck, you feel so good baby. Do you like being inside mama, sweet girl. Do you like feeling your big toy moving inside of her?”
“Mhm,” you groaned, biting your lip. “You feel so good. It’s so tight and warm. You’re so beautiful mama. So so beautiful.”
She smiled. “Thank you, baby,” she said, squeezing your hand. “Fuck your making your mama feel so good.” Her voice cracked and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
You sniffled, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You could hardly take it, watching her face contorted in pleasure while you felt yourself moving inside of her. It was all too much.
“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Come here, honey.” She pulled you up by the arm so you were sitting up, flush against her. She ran her fingers through your hair. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. You feel so good buried inside of mama, right where you’re supposed to be, huh?”
You nodded against her chest, arms wrapping tight around her waist. “Uh huh.” Your nails clawed at her back in a desperate attempt to pull her closer.
She groaned at the feeling of you, slicing at her skin. “That’s it, detka. Hold onto mama, baby. I’ve got you. No need to scratch, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”
She continued to ride you while you cried into her chest. “Mama… I love you! I love you, mama! Please mama! I love you so much.”
“I love you too, darling,” she moaned. “Do you wanna make mama cum, sweet girl? Do you wanna feel mama cum around you?” She lead your hand between her legs, guiding you to play with her clit.
You nodded frantically into her chest, circling your fingers around her swollen bud. “I wanna make you cum. Please. Please cum for me, mama.”
Before you could even finish your sentence, she was crying out, pulsing around the toy. She quickly swatted your hand away, instantly overstimulated by the intensity of her orgasm.
You caught her as she nearly fell backwards. The toy popped out of her and bounced against her stomach. You eased her down against the bed, stuffing a pillow up under her head. You wrapped your arms around her torso, cradling her head in one hand. You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I got you, mama.”
You got up, making quick work of removing the harness before crawling back into bed with Wanda, who lay completely breathless. You managed to turn her around, laying her gently against the headboard so you could press a cold glass of water to her lips.
She smiled, taking the water from you and happily gulping it down. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
You smiled back at her and kissed her temple, grabbing your pajama shirt and using it to very gently clean her up. She winced when you touched between her legs, still terribly sensitive from her orgasm.
You grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers with your own. “It’s okay, mama. I’ll be gentle.”
She smiled down at you, beaming with pride. “You really do remember how to be gentle with mama.”
You grinned. “I learned from the best.”
You tossed the dirty shirt towards the hamper, just barely missing and landing on the towel and blanket from earlier. Wanda chuckled, pulling your body against her own. She guided your head down to her chest, encouraging you to take her nipple into your mouth. “Do you wanna try again, little love?”
You nodded, wrapping your lips around her, suckling peacefully. This time, it didn’t matter that there was no milk there for you. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t grown inside of her, or that she wasn’t the first person to ever hold you. She was holding you now.
She was still your mama, and you were still her baby. Everything else was white noise.
Taglist: @wandasdove @themilfsland @moonxytcn @jordy-12 @the-lakes89 @boredandneedfanfics @bwe-esfr @wandasslut3000 @kaymariesworld @wandasfreak @lesbiansweet
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#mommy wanda#mommy!wanda#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#stepmom wanda#stepmom!wanda#mama Wanda
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Serial killer reader x yan!Batfam (bc who doesn’t like seeing reader finally go batshit crazy?)
This idea has been bouncing around my head for a while, so Imma toss it out here. A slim layout of it and testing the waters ig lol
WARNING for disturbing imagery, animal abuse, broken bones, mentions of child neglect (obviously)
Reader arrives at the manor at the ripe ol’ age of 8, near fresh off the crime scene of their mothers murder
None of the transition is handled well, which, its Gotham so what do you expect really, so no real systems are put in place to help this child not only deal with a brand new environment, but also having just watched your mom brutally murdered in front of you
Bruce is already 5 years deep into batmanning shenanigans, with Dick 4 years into being robin
Since you weren't as obviously volatile as Dick was when his parents were murdered, Bruce didn't really see letting you in on the nightly activities as necessary
You never really pushed hard for a relationship with Bruce, believing that he was distant because you were not a choice, unlike Dick.
Your mom used to get like that, sometimes. she’d always been truthful about you being an accident, would close herself off for awhile, but at least she always came back, or she use too
You had Alfred, sure, but his experience with grieving children mostly involved allowing them to swear vengeance on all crime sooo, he’s more of a “I'll try to solve your problem, even though what you're needing is someone to comfort and listen to you”
But you can't really fix the problem of a very dead mother
So you’re never really given a space to process, and it definitely festers
So what is a small child left to do with no real outlet for the terrible things they've witnessed? Well… recreation is a start.
You were left to your own devices quite often, and the manors grounds are so so big, so it's easy to see how you got away with your… activities, for awhile
Squirrels, birds, frogs, any animal small enough to fit into your tiny little hands, all met their end by them
It isn't until you’re a few years into your new school, that you catch a bird and show your classmates just how fragile and “cute” its bones were, and the funny little tweets it made when you snapped them
And your friends try to stop you, saying its wrong and mean, that the tight grip you have on the bird is "hurting” it, that you’re crazy and horrible
So you decide to just show your friends how wrong they are, that it's just a game
Soon, the teacher comes running over at the sounds of shouts and screaming, and finds a child with a broken arm, and a robin with a broken neck
With the reader stood above them, yelling that their friends aren't playing the game right
……………………………………
Alfred is the one who comes to get you, as Bruce is busy with something and he’s just absolutely beside himself, how did this happen? How hadn't he noticed anything?
He rushes through the necessities, assuring that all damages will be paid for, agrees to have you transferred to a different class then the boys whose arm you broke instead of being expelled (the wonders of unimaginable wealth)
The drive back to the manor (manor, not home, never home) is quiet, the silence is suffocating, for both of you,
You’re mostly confused, you never really hid your “games” while at the manor, at least not on purpose, you'd just always wash up before going inside, not wanting to get anything dirty
And Alfred is angry, mostly at himself, he prided himself on his ability to see everything, to always know, but this? He was completely blindsided.
So yes he's angry, not really at you, but you don't know that, you can only see the slight shake of his shoulders, the white knuckled grip on the wheel, the frown pulling his wrinkled face and the furrow of his brow
And all you hear is the quiet, ”Never do such a thing again”, as the car pulled up the driveway to the manor
That very night, Bruce brings Jason to the manor
And the urgent conversation Alfred planned on having with Bruce fell to the wayside
That's some of what I’ve got so far lol, there's… a lot more honestly. The brain worms are hard at work. Hope you enjoyed!
#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfam#yandere dc#gender neutral reader#gn reader#platonic yandere batfam#Serialkiller!reader#Tw:animal abuse#idk what else to tag
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Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea
Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU
tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.
wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.
i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.
well, no one aside from you, of course.
it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.
you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.
and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.
it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere geto suguru#geto suguru x reader
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Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.
Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.
"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.
"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."
Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."
You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."
He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."
You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.
His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."
"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.
You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"
Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."
He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."
"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"
"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."
"A cake?" you gasped.
Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."
-----------------------------
The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.
"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.
"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."
You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."
"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.
"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.
You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."
Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."
"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.
"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement.
"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.
Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."
For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.
"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.
"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.
"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."
"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.
"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"
He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.
"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.
"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."
"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.
"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."
Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"
She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.
"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"
Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.
"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."
You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."
-----------------------------
It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked.
"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.
"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.
"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."
Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.
"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."
He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.
He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."
Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.
"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."
When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.
"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.
You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.
"Roo."
Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.
----------------------------
Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.
Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."
"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."
"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.
You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.
"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"
You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.
"Did you finish eating dinner?"
"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."
Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.
"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."
"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."
He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"
You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."
"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."
You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.
----------------------------
You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."
His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."
Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"
You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."
Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."
It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you.
As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.
"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."
As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.
"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."
Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.
After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.
"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.
"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.
"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.
"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.
Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.
-----------------------------
Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.
"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.
"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.
Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet.
"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.
But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."
A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"
Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.
"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.
--------------------------------
Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#aim for the sky
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A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻
Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).
"Simon, just give it some time."
The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.
"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."
.
The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.
But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."
Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.
But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.
"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."
His heart warms at that.
.
It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.
Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.
With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.
It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.
You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:
"I told you so; enjoy it."
With a smile.
#cod x reader#ghost cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod#cod ghost#simon ghost x reader#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#cod fluff#cod drabble#dad simon riley
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Jumped
Request: I would love to see something Like IT’s Career day at school and Jay and Will come to teach about their jobs along with others. And Halstead's sister gets bullied. During the break of moving in between careers someone comes and beats her up in like the bathroom and leaves her there and no one notices her being gone untill the end of the day. (I kinda want like Fire, Med, and Pd to find her)
sorry if it doesn’t make much sense you can choose how to end it and stuff
I also LOVE your fics I can’t wait to see more❤️
Authors Note; Y’all really love the angst huh, gotta deliver,, and hopefully you enjoy this little drabble. Also, part of me really wanted to title this, 'big sister hugs' because I think that Hailey would be the best big sister and also give the best big sister advice.
warnings: private girls school (yes that's a warning), bullying, getting jumped (i guess?), hospital and injuries,, Jay and Will not knowing girl bullying and being stubborn, a very poorly written plot
High school was not always easy, but you were comfortable at your school with your friends. That was until there was a security issue and Jay’s information got leaked. Your apartment, school, Jay’s license plate, everything that could be used to track him ended up in the hands of the ‘bad guys’. Jay and Will had broken the news to you that they were pulling you from your current school, and moving to another school closer to Will’s. A private girls school, the ones with the fancy uniforms and stuck-up kids who thought the law didn’t apply to them because they had money. You hated it. You had begged Jay and Will to let you stay, but there was no changing their mind.
The first week was hell, you knew no one. Starting in the middle of the year meant that everyone knew you were the new girl. You were enrolled under your mother's maiden name, for extra safety. It was weird not hearing your name followed by ‘Halstead’. After the first week was gone, you decided to stick it out until the problem with Jay blew over, by then, you could probably convince them to let you go back to your other school. Three weeks passed by and intelligence solved Jay’s leak.
“So,” You began on Sunday family dinner, “Now that the whole leak in PD is over…”
Jay and Will shared a look from across the table.
You narrowed your eyes, “What?”
Will ran a hand down his face, “Listen…”
“You won't let me go back.”
“It’s a better school-”
“Better?” You spat, “How is it better? I hate it there!”
“It’ll get better,” Jay said, “You just need more time to adjust.”
“I don’t want to adjust-”
“We’re not pulling you out,” Jay said, “I know you're struggling right now, but you’ll make some friends and-”
“I can’t believe you.” You pulled away from the table, leaving your half-eaten dinner where it was and stomping off to your room. Jay stood to follow, ready to scold you for storming away and having such an attitude.
“Jay,” Hailey grabbed his arm, “Let her cool down.”
Jay and Will didn’t budge on your school. You had gone from begging to bargaining with no success. Now you were giving them both the silent treatment. You knew it was immature and frankly ridiculous, but you were too mad to think clearly. Jay had already scolded you for not talking to him for the last week. You had ignored him.
Hailey was the only one you spoke too, because it wasn’t her fault that Jay was being stubborn. Even so, you didn’t tell her everything when she stopped by your room. Namely, the career day that was coming up. You knew telling her meant she would tell Jay. And Jay and Will had a terrible habit of embarrassing you at school. At your last school's career day, Will and Jay had come and talked for hours about their funniest stories. You knew if they came this time, your peers wouldn’t be as amused.
When career day did roll around, your dean stood in front of the school in the auditorium, introducing students and their parents. Your school was much smaller than your last one - something about smaller class sizes being better for learning - so the auditorium wasn’t fully packed.
Not everyone brought their parents, but the popular kids with parents who had good jobs came. Like the group of girls who hated you, who all brought at least one parent. Your dean invited students to the stage by class and then had the student introduce their parents. Your class was last, the biggest number of parents who had come. You were sat at the end of your class, mostly because you didn't have anyone to bring. Not that it bothered you.
“Next up, we have Olivia and her mom, Jen.”
Jen was a dentist, she spent 10 minutes explaining how her job worked and then opened for questions. There weren’t many, mostly a few questions from seniors about collages and other stuff.
Then it was Sophie, with her dad the Banker.
By the time the girls who hated you were called up, you were ready to fall asleep. No one here had an interesting job, most of the jobs were boring well playing jobs that you could never see yourself doing.
The main girl who didn’t like you was Madison. She wasn’t fond of how the teachers asked you for answers in class, not that you could do anything about that. Her friend group was made up of 5 or 6 girls who were seemingly lovely. All smiles and compliments around teachers but spread vicious rumors and lies when adults couldn’t hear. You had heard them speaking about you a few times, not that you cared. It wasn’t great to be the new girl with all the rumors, but you had banked on leaving the school before for long. Which, you knew now, wasn’t an option. So now you were stuck with the girls who all hated you for rumors or lies that you didn’t even know.
Madison brought her mum and dad with her, real estate agents who worked together selling multi-billion dollar houses. The whole time she had a smug look on her face. When she sat back down in her row, she turned in her seat, looking back at you.
“Didn’t bring anyone?” She asked.
You didn’t bother replying.
“Is it because your parents are coke addicts?” Her friend beside her pressed.
How that rumor even started you didn’t know, it was so absurd.
“Or is it because they’re dead?” Madison pressed.
You gave her a bored look, “I’ll take my family over your fraud family any day.”
Madison opened her mouth to bark something back, but was shushed by your teacher. She turned back to face the front, arms crossed over her chest. No doubt stewing in your words.
“We now have some guests to speak to you,” The Dean said through the microphone, “We reached out to some of our first responders and invited them to come speak to you too. Everyone please welcome Dr Asher and Dr Halstead from Gaffney Chicago Med.”
Will and Hannah walked to the stage, both in their Med scrubs with doctors coats on. Will was looking for you, you could tell from the way his eyes scanned the faces in the audience. You slumped in your chair, avoiding looking at him at all.
How did he find out? Did he and Jay find out somehow? Did your school contact them?
You really wanted to disappear now, your face was no doubt bright red by how much it was burning. You prayed silently that Will hadn’t told Jay, but you knew it was a useless prayer. If Will was here Jay would be too.
You got your answer when the dean explained that there were more guests outside on the fields. She ordered everyone to head that way, ushering students with promises of something ‘exciting’.
Outside, firehouse 51 had parked their rigs on the grass. 51 had their ladder extended, Mouch standing at the controls grinning like a champion. Not far from Mouch was Trudy, flanked by two patrol cars and their officers. Looking across the gathered first responders it didn’t take long to spot Jay and Intelligence. Their own cars were parked on the grass, the lights on. Everyone but Voight had their vests on, adding to the dramatic atmosphere already created.
Students huddled around, entranced by the cars and rigs which you had seen plenty of times. You tried to hide towards the back, but Kelly had spotted you and tried to usher you closer. You shrugged back at him, trying to make it look like you were stuck within the crowd.
“Firstly, we would like to thank Sergeant Trudy Platt and Sergeant Hank Voight, as well as Chief Wallace Boden for coming today. We are hugely appreciative to hear from you,” The dean spoke into a microphone, “Secondly, I want to ask students to be respectful, as these hard working men and women have taken time out of their busy days to come and speak to us. So we are going to listen and show respect. There will be time for questions and demonstrations at the end. Please Welcome Sergeant Trudy Platt.”
The crowd clapped as Trudy took the mic, but it wasn’t too enthusiastic. Trudy gave a similar speech to last year. Along the lines of what made district 21 special, intelligence and the hardworking patrol officers. She talked about fake calls and how breaking the law would wind you up in her cells etc. It was funny, a few quips earning laughs from teachers and parents. But you had heard it all before. You were dreading what the others would say. You didn’t want everyone knowing your brother was a cop, that would cause way too many issues.
So instead, you slipped away from the crowd, heading back towards the school building to hide in the bathroom.
You didn’t think anyone would notice, most people were paying attention to the speakers or interested in the rigs. You were wrong, of course, being followed almost immediately by Madison and a couple of her friends.
You got to the lockers before they announced themselves.
“What did you mean my parents were frauds, bitch?”
You turned around in fright, not even hearing them sneak up on you.
“I didn’t mean it,” You replied, “I’m sorry.”
You were, kind of. Mostly you were sorry that you had said it, because she genuinely seemed shocked. But this was Chicago, anyone with any money committed fraud, it was kind of the standard.
“I don’t care if you're sorry,” Madison snarled, she was taller than you so when she stepped closer you couldn’t help feeling intimidated. “What did you mean?”
“Madison-”
One of her friends pushed you hard against the lockers with a forearm over your collar, “Answer the question.”
You were by no means a confrontational person. Growing up, Jay always tried to teach you to talk out your issues, violence or fighting wasn’t a good solution. Will was the same, although both of them weren’t always the best at doing as they counseled.
“I just meant that,” You were panicking under the glare of all three girls, “You know, this is chicago and-”
“And what? Everyone is a criminal like your addict parents?” Madison got in your face again.
“My parents weren’t addicts,” You scoffed, now annoyed that she wouldn’t let that go.
“No?” The girl who was holding you back moved her arm further up your neck, pressing against your throat, “Then where are they?”
“If my parents were addicts, would you really think I'd be in a private school?” You pressed, “Use your brain for once, please.”
You should have known that would piss Madison off. She let out an annoyed scoff then pulled back her fist and punched your square in the nose. The force slammed your head back into the lockers, the sound echoing through the empty halls. The punch wasn’t hard enough to break your nose, but you would feel the blood start to drip down your lip. Madison shook her hand like she had taken more damage than you had.
“Want to say that again?” The third girl finally spoke up.
It was like they were all gaining confidence in the security of the three of them. When one of them said something the others would laugh and smirk.
“I don’t like bullies, you know,” Madison said.
God, the irony.
This time the punch came from the third girl, landing in your stomach. You didn't know her name, but she was on the volleyball team, so her punch was much stronger. Your body doubled over, arms crossing over your stomach as your lungs tried to fight your diaphragm for air. The arm holding you up was dropped, and your body fell to the ground as you tried to force yourself to take some deep breaths.
“This is what you deserve,” A girl said, before another blow landed on your ribs. The wind was knocked out of you again, causing you to cough and choke.
Madison crouched down to your level, “Bullies like you deserve to be put in their place.”
You didn’t have time to appreciate the irony this time, because she was kicking your head, hard.
Your body reacted on instinct, curling into itself to try to protect you from another blow that was sure to come.
“Hey!”
The three girls sprinted at the voice, running away from their actions.
“Hey, kid,” A hand on your shoulder made you flinch, when your vision cleared you realized it was just Kelly. He held his hands out to show you he meant no harm, then gently helped you sit up.
“You’re alright,” He said softly, steading you sitting against the lockers. You couldn’t even reply, focused solely on breathing through the pain in your head and side.
“I found her,” Kelly said into his radio, “North Hallway, bring a jump bag.”
Kelly gently touched the side of your face, tilting your head to look at the side you had been kicked.
“You still got that med kit in your bag?” He asked, knowing Kidd had taught you that in girls on fire.
“Yeah,” You said softly, your voice above a whisper.
Kelly ripped open your bag, rummaging through it until he found the small first aid kit. He was only after gauze, once he secured it, he ripped the package open and pressed the gauze to your head.
You winced, instinctively pulling away from him.
“I know,” He said, sitting down next to you so he could hold the gauze in place, “Sorry kid.
You both looked up as the sound of footsteps came running towards you. You might as well have been on fire, the entire house was rushing towards you. Jay and Intelligence were there too, Will and Asher running along beside everyone.
“This is overkill,” You said to no one in particular.
Kelly chuckled, shuffling so that Will could take his place next to you, “We’re all here for you, kid.”
Will replaced Kelly’s hand with his own, when Kelly pulled away you could see blood on his hand.
Jay croached on your other side, letting Will, Hannah and Brett take care of you.
“What happened?” He asked, looking over your bloody nose, head injury and the way you were holding your side.
You didn’t want to be known as a snitch, one glance behind your brother and you could see students being held back by teachers and 51. The school day was almost over, everyone would be gathering their things to leave. You hoped you weren’t in front of someone's locker who hated you, this would definitely make them hate you more.
You looked back at Jay, his eyes filled with worry, “What happened, squirt?”
“I, uh.. I fell.”
Will scoffed, “You fell?”
“Yeah, I’m clumsy,” You said.
“You fell and hit your nose and the side of your head?” Hannah asked, voice soft, “Are you sure that's the story you want to tell?”
Over her shoulder, Kelly was talking to Voight and Hailey. Hailey was pointing something out, a camera that was positioned above one of the classroom doors.
“Yeah,” You didn’t sound confident at all. But right now, you wanted to be anywhere but here.
Jay looked pissed, but he didn’t say anything. He got to his feet and stood out of the way as Hannah and Will helped you stand. They lead you over to the stair chair, despite your very vocal argument that you were fine.
Being wheeled through the crowd of students and their parents was the most embarrassing thing you had ever experienced. You passed by Madison at one point, who was leaning against her locker talking to her parents like nothing ever happened. You avoided looking her way, instead focusing on what Brett was saying about getting to the rig.
Outside the building things were less stressful and crowded. You managed to convince the four hovering adults that you could stand on your own to get into the back of the ambulance, even if you didn’t really think you needed one.
“I’m really fine,” You argued for probably the fifth time, “I think you're overreacting.”
Will sighed, running a hand down his face, “You are too stubborn for your own good,” He muttered.
Violet chuckled, “Just lay back, alright? You aren’t getting out of this, no matter how much you complain.”
She was right, but that didn’t stop you from pouting the whole way to Med.
At Med, Will hovered as Hannah stapled the laceration on your head. You weren’t too happy about the idea of being stabled back together, but Will had taken a photo of the laceration to prove you needed it.
“That’s so gross,” You said, pushing the phone away from you.
“That’s why you need staples,” Will explained, rolling his eyes.
Not long after Hannah had treated you and left you to rest, Jay, Hailey and Voight walked in.
“Are you doing alright?” Jay asked, hesitant to start another argument.
“I’m fine,” You repeated, “I don’t know why everyones making such a big deal.”
“You were attacked at-”
“I fell.” You interrupted.
“Y/N-”
“Jay.” You echoed in the same tone.
Jay's face flashed with irritation, he looked to Will for help.
“We know that’s not true,” Will said, giving you his best parental disappointed look.
“The whole thing was caught by the security cameras,” Hailey spoke softly, she was the only person in the room who knew what it was like to be a teenage girl in high school, “We just want to know what they said.”
You tried to come up with some kind of explanation that wouldn’t get anyone in trouble, but you came up short.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact with all of them.
Will leaned forward, he looked wary, “Listen, squirt, we want to help, but we can’t unless you tell us the truth.”
“That is the truth,” You argued back, crossing your arms definitely, “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’re in the hospital!” Jay gestured around, “What about this is ‘not a big deal’.”
You scowled, refusing to say anything else and just sitting silently.
Voight squeezed Jay's shoulder, “We’ll let her rest, come back later?”
Jay nodded, not bidding you goodbye as he stomped out of the room. You hadn’t seen him this mad in forever, you weren’t sure if this would blow over as easily as your other fights. Voight followed after Jay, he told you to get some rest then followed his detective to try to calm him down.
Will got up to leave too, he told you to rest and said he would come back soon. When the three left, it was only Hailey who stayed behind.
“I know you’ve been struggling at school,” She took a seat on the bed next to you, “I know what that’s like.”
You fiddled with your fingers, not wanting to admit she was right.
“You know what happened today wasn’t right,” Hailey continued, “Jay wants to press charges.”
“What? No! That’ll just make it wor…” You stopped yourself.
“Make what worse?” Hailey pressed.
You took a deep breath, trying not to get upset.
“Whatever is going on, I can help,” Hailey promised.
“You can’t get me out of that school,” You scowled.
“I think after today, that might be possible.”
You leaned back into the pillows. Dr Asher had given you some pain meds for your head, they removed the sharp pain and replaced it with a dull throb. You could feel it more as you got more upset.
“There’s this stupid rumor that my parents are addicts,” you explained, “Madison is always taunting me with it, saying that's why no one ever comes to parent evenings or teacher interviews…”
Hailey didn’t say anything, she just sat listening patiently.
“Before you guys came, she asked why my parents weren’t here and I said that I would rather have my family over her fraud one.”
Hailey nodded as she listened.
“It was stupid and as soon as I said it, I regretted it. When we were outside I went inside to go to the bathroom and Madison and her friends followed me… They, uh… Madison wanted to know why I said it and I apologized but she didn’t- she, she didn’t care and…”
Hailey got the cue, “Okay. It’s alright.” She pulled you into a gentle hug. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
#jay halstead x reader#will halstead#chicago med#halstead!sister#jay halstead x sister!reader#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader#will halstead x reader#chicago med x reader#jay halstead#hailey upton#hailey upton x reader#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#chicago med imagine#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire imagine#kelly severide
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Best Friends! SatoSugu with Chubby Reader
A/N: Can yall tell I like starting new series without finishing the others?🌚 Megumi with Streamer! Chubby Reader will be out after this! I also did a lil headcanon for the thought of this series so I will insert that as well. But,please enjoy your Geto and Gojo being your close friends that has some...fantasies about you.
Best Friends! Gojo and Geto who known you since your middle school days, befriending you the moment Shoko and Utahime introduced you
Best Friends! Gojo and Geto who followed the three of you to college because they wanted the group to stick together when in reality, Gojo's father was the dean of the school and Geto's parents are apart of the schoolboard, leaving them in power in case anything goes south with you or anyone that tries to harm you
Best Friends! Gojo and Geto who watch your every move because they will fuck up whoever talks about you because you're the most precious thing to walk this earth
Best Friends! Gojo and Geto who placed bets on who would get to fuck you first?
-----------------~Let the story begin~---------------
It's your first year of college and you were just excited to meet new people, try new things and expand your horizons. You were doing this with you four best friends in tow: Utahime, Shoko, Gojo and Geto. After high school, you came out your shell more because you didn't want people to think you were just some girl that was insecure about your body. That was the old Y/N, this new Y/N was bubbly and kind-spirited. For the new school year, you made all your friends come shopping with you for a new wardrobe and of course, they were all proud of your because of how much you changed since middle school.
Gojo and Geto first met you when Shoko introduced you to them in 7th grade. You were very shy and anxious, mainly clinging to Utahime until Shoko approached you one day. Since that interaction with Gojo and Geto, they became intrigued with you and welcomed you to their circle. As the years went by, you started warming up to the two guys, but that didn't mean you didn't receive hate from any of your peers. Girls that were obsessed with any attention from the two boys would call you fat, disgusting and ugly. They would laugh at you and talk about the way you looked in passing.
"Gosh, she looks like a pig," one would say.
"Aww, you made a new name for her! Piggy," the other would giggle back.
They would even go as far as lifting up your shirt, messing with your rolls calling you by that terrible nickname.
Finally, in your first year of high school, Gojo and Geto found out about bullying when they saw you crying in the courtyard, covered in food. You explained to them through your tears that the girl that had been liking Satoru for years, Asami, had poured her lunch on you and called you "trash". You don't know what was awoken in the two, but you saw a version of them that you didn't know that was hidden inside of them.
You didn't know the full details of what happened, but you do recall Asami being escorted off campus as you, Geto, and Gojo passed her. The girl maintained a silent glare at you, but she knew not to hold it too long because Asami could feel the heat of Gojo's and Geto's boiling anger. Since then, you deeply appreciate Satoru and Suguru, but you still have a deep fear of pissing them off.
Fast forward to your first day of college and you're already seeing things in your friend group that you saw in high school: sorority girls began hitting on Gojo and Geto whole you and Shoko went on your merry way. However, the blonde girl and her brunette friend were quickly shooed away once Gojo ended the conversation in the "nicest" possible.
"Can you believe it, Suguru? Those girls are already trying to fling themselves at us."
Geto just chuckled, "It's whatever. We're just new eye candy. Shoko, Y/N, would you like to attend the part with us tonight? It's for the incoming freshmen."
You beamed at them, "Sure, I don't mind! Shoko!..."
Shoko rolled her eyes as she lit her cigarette, "Fine, but you guys have to pay for my hangover food."
--------------------------------------------------------
Later that night, the four of you arrived at the party and you were already excited to get in. You wore a cute and simple black sundress for what you thought would be a chill occasion but it gave Project X vibes. You looked around as frat boys gathered around a table, chugging beer while some sorority girls were giggling at them. Outside the frat house laid drunk partygoers in pool floaties or just naked. You squeezed your way through the crowd, finding Utahime in a corner.
She hugged you and Shoko, "I didn't expect you guys to be here! It's nice to see you guys."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Shoko said sarcastically.
The three of you caught up with Utahime about how school life was treating her and after some time of dancing, you told your two friends that you would split and get you three some drinks. Maneuvering your way into the kitchen, you ended up bumping into a muscular guy, probably a sophmore or a junior .
"Sorry," you scampered over the loud music.
The man smirks at you, "It's okay. What are you drinking tonight, doll?"
The way he called you "doll" sent shives down your spine. It's bad enough he's sexy, but calling you such a sexually charged name made your stomach churn in a good way. He wore a tight fit black shirt, but you can say his muscles were struggling to stay contained. Then he wore gray sweatpants, only leaving your mind to wander. What a dangerous combo, don't even try and talk about his smile with the scar on his lip because you might get KO'ed.
"Three beers is all," you said as calm as possible.
He passed them to you and before leaving, he whispered in your ear.
"Name's Toji Fushiguro. Remember me, doll."
Toji walked back into the crowd, leaving you dumbfounded. You weren't the only one in shock about this situation, Shoko and Utahime saw everything . Their attention wasn't just on what happened either, but they were also looking at Gojo and Geto, shooting daggers at Toji the entire time.
#gojo satoru#geto suguru#gojo x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo x reader x geto#gojo x chubby reader#geto x chubby reader#gojo x chubby reader x geto
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unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.
Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.
and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.
(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)
Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self.
Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.
The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?
Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!
Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and—
Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—
You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...
What—when did you lose—
I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...
So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.
And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.
When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.
Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.
It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.
Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.
Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??
the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.
Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.
FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?
“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.
Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)
And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.
Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic, being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.
Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life.
Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.
Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.
Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.
It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal.
Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.
What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.
I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.
So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.
Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.
Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—
well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—
and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?
i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”
Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).
But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.
Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.
And then the partners change again, the moment ended.
Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.
Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.
Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.
Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.
needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.
Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.
Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )
Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?
And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?
Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer
#discworld#sam vimes#discworld au#nightwatch au#i literally drafted this post in December 2021#and i know it was living in my head for years already at that point#i have more somewhere aging like cheese in the back of my mind#discworld fanfic#night watch#Let this be free from my mind#Perhaps someone else will write it#BE FREE ANCIENT AU OF MY SOUL#For all my obsession with discworld I have but this one (1) AU though it tears at me like the seam of a pair of pants#The songs I have permanently associated with this au are slightly bonkers by the way#My au#Seriously there's like two full novels worth of content up here. Sybyll running away from home and living as a commoner#To mirror Sam joining upper class in original timeline you see?#Some early discworld murder Wizard nonsense when they try to poke at the temporal anomaly and the universe goes brrrr#Eventually catching up with color of Magic city burning bs and vimes is mad as fuck#Weird year that never was protecting people during sourcery#And when we start catching up with where he left#Oh ho ho you can't to forward to something that doesn't exist but maybe you can go sideways to a place that's got a tear in it#A sam vimes shaped tear#And his pregnant wife from 30 years ago in the other trouser leg#AND that's not even mentioning how carcers trial got taken to a...higher court
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really enjoyed both your Barca x teen reader fics, would love another part if you can, particularly with more lucy!
Christmas Guest
A/N: I’ve been wanting to make a Christmas fic, so I thought this would be perfect
Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader(Mostly a Lucy x teen reader), but some motherly Alexia
Word Count: 1,194
Growing up, Christmas always ended terribly. Always one of your family members getting into a fight with each other to the point where police may have had to be called or your parents yelling at you or each other.
"What do you want for Christmas?" Pina asked, and you looked at her, confused. It's something you were never asked about by anyone. "Nothing," you simply said and went back to changing. Claudia groaned.
"You never want anything; you told me the same thing for your birthday. Come on, anything? A video game? I'll even get you a car," Claudia said, frustrated.
"I don't even have a driver's license," you mumbled to her as you gave her a little smile and walked away to the field. She groaned, and went to rant to Alexia.
—————
"What are you doing for Christmas?" Lucy questioned you, "Nothing, just sleeping all day." She looked at you, confused. "Are you sure you don't want to go back home with me?"
She knew you had a complicated relationship with your parents, and her family loved you, so you were invited to everything. You've already been invited to four different people's family gatherings.
Ingrid's and Mapi's; they were going to Norway. Fridolina's in Sweden; Keira's, but she was leaving like right when the last game was over; and Alexia's. Alexia said if you didn't decide, then she would drag you to her family.
"I don't want to be a bother." Lucy shook her head. "Kid, my mom has a stocking hung up for you; she's been asking me every day if you're coming. Trust me, you're her favorite child." You smiled a bit at that. "Are you sure?" She nodded, "Okay then," Lucy cheered and jumped up. "We leave in two days," she ran off to brag to everyone you were going with her back to England.
You smiled a bit and focused back on your last practice of the year.
————-
Right when you got home, Alexia sent you to the dining table. "Alexia, it's Christmas break; I have no homework," you told her as she set down a paper and pen in front of you.
"Nope, you're making a wishlist. I want you to put at least 30 things." "Why 30?" "The whole team needs ideas."
"I don't know what I want," you muttered. "Well, you better think about it. Don't you dare move from that table until you have at least 25 things."
After the 10th thing, Alexia sat next to you and read what you currently had on your list. She did disapprove of some stuff, like all the nerf guns, since you would probably end up shooting someone in the eye.
"So Lucy?" Alexia asked you, "Yeah." Alexia looked a bit happy and a bit worried. Ever since you joined Barca, you've never left Alexia's sight. She even dragged you to her photo shoots.
"Okay, let's start getting you packed then, and please behave; you get more wild around Lucy.”
"I always behave," she gave you a look. "That's not what Leah tells me," you smirked. You still remember the yelling Leah gave you and Lucy when you guys snuck out after curfew to go to a nearby park.
You guys found it funny until the next day, when you had to do extra laps while everyone laughed at you and watched.
—————
Saturday, 5 a.m.
You groaned as Alexia put a beanie over your head and went through your suitcase again to make sure you had everything. "Your toothbrush?" "My backpack." "Charger?" "Backpack" "phone?" "Pocket," "do you have your headphones? You know you need those on the plane or you get really nervous." "In my backpack."
After more questions, you finally spoke up. "Alexia, we did this last night." "I'm just making sure you have everything," she defended.
"You're such an overbearing mom," Lucy laughed as she picked up your bag to put it in the trunk. Alexia was driving you guys to the airport.
The whole car ride was Alexia telling Lucy what you needed and your usual routine.
Lucy wasn't even listening; she kept reaching over to pinch and give you slaps on the thighs since you were kicking her seat.
The bye was odd; Alexia had some tears in her eyes, and you and Lucy awkwardly glanced at each other. "Lex, I'm only leaving for a week and a half," you told her.
"Nah kid, those are tears of joy," Lucy joked as Alexia gave you a tight hug.
Then she turned to Lucy, "you better bring her back in one piece of Lucia." Lucy smirked as she started dragging you into the airport. "I'm not promising anything."
—————
"Come on kid, mom is over here." Lucy's mom was waiting outside of her car, smiling softly. You were a bit scared; you knew Lucy's mom already; you guys had met after the Euros. You had also met her brother, niece, and nephew during the World Cup.
As you approached, she was quick to pull the two of you into a huge hug. "Y/N, how have you been?" She rubbed your back and pinched your cheeks.
"I've been good; how have you been?" "I've been amazing, missing my children and grandchildren as always, but I'm just happy we'll all be together again." Lucy smiled as she put the luggage into the car.
"Look, I got you two matching sweaters for Christmas Eve," she said as she held up the sweaters. You took it happily, muttering a 'thank you' and showing it to Lucy, who was smiling at your reaction.
After meeting her dad, Lucy could tell you were their new favorite child. You would sit with her dad and talk about sports, and her mom would teach you how to cook.
Lucy took you around her home and showed you all the places she loved as a kid. You two had also gone last-minute Christmas shopping for everyone.
You guys even spent all day eating ice cream and decorating cookies, something Alexia probably wouldn’t like since she didn’t like when you ate a lot of sugar. Lucy didn’t care, though; she happily dealt with your sugar rush.
—————
Christmas Day was eventful. You were woken up by her nephew jumping on you.
"Ow," you mumbled and groaned as you heard Lucy's laugh. "Come on kid, don't be a grinch," you sighed as you sat up.
You could hear the kids giggling and shrieking downstairs, and Jorge running around, probably chasing them.
"Carry me," you grinned at her. She rolled her eyes but listened, giving you a piggyback ride to the chaos.
Christmas went perfectly. Lucy's parents went all out with their 'youngest child', who was you, and their grandchildren.
When you got back home, all you could talk about was how great Christmas was. The team just listened and nodded along as they gave you their gifts.
————
"It looks like you're going to have a permanent traveling buddy every time you go back home, Bronze,” Mapi joked.
“Mom will disown me if I don't,” Lucy responded, as she watched you chase Pina around, shooting her with the huge nerf mini gun Patri got you.
#woso x reader#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#lucy bronze#alexia putellas#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni
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A Rodrick x reader where they're friends with benefits and aren't aware of each others feelings towards the other util reader gets asked out by someone from their school :]
i started this one earlier and then the draft got deleted (this is why you dont take grilled cheese brakes kids) Thank you so much for the request, i have never written fwb before so i hope i meet your expectations :) (p.s. im a sucker for hand/knuckle kisses and it shows) lets just say greg and rowley weren't there for the party.
"Dammit Rodrick," you chuckled slightly, sitting on a desk.
"What?" The raven haired boy started, "Don't like doing this anymore?" His hot breath tickled against your neck.
"It's not that," you muttered, "I just, don't feel like making out in an empty classroom five minutes before lunch ends."
"Oh, 'cause you are so above that," he retorted, going back to his assault on your neck and jawline.
"I'm turning over a new leaf!" You leaned back slightly, humming.
"Proud of yourself?" his hand relocated to your waist, the other supporting his weight.
"I would say I'm more proud of you,"
"Oh?"
"You haven't gotten a detention in two days!" at that, the boy laughed, and removed his head from the crook of your neck.
'God I love you!' he wanted to say, but you seemed content with your current status, and he got to make out with you whenever he wanted... so he was fine! Totally.
"Has that Micha kid been bothering you?" The so called 'Micha kid' had been trying to hit on you for months, and you were to nice to tell him you secretly hated him, but you were working on it (thanks to Rodrick)
"Kind of? He tries to talk to me a lot, but he's less persistent."
"Good" he smiled, patting your waist before kissing you again.
You pulled away after a moment, "We should probably get our stuff," you commented, pulling him out of his blissful state.
"uh, yeah!" god he was so awkward sometimes. He held out his hand for you to take, (which you did) and you slid off the desk.
"You're such a gentleman!" you mocked in a brittish accent
"Oh, I know, love," he carried on.
-----------
'party at my house -rodrick' The text had been sent four minutes ago on the dot. Your parents were out of town, so you could go without being caught. So you fucking did. You put on a white button-down, black skinny jeans that were torn to shreds, and You put your earbuds in and started walking the block to the Heffley household. Your mind shifted to your previous interaction. How concerned Rodrick was being, he did care about you. and some times it felt like he loved you. you felt as if you could only dream.
---
You knocked on the door, the music was so loud already.
"Y/NNNN!" Rodrick dragged your name out, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, "You do know this is casual, right?"
"Yes."
"Alright then. Get in here!" he pulled you in the house, there were lights, MCR's 'na na na" was blasting at full volume, and there were high-schoolers making out in random corners, someone had started a fistfight, and it seemed like it was more Rodrick's element than yours, but that was ok. And then you saw him.
Micha.
The boy who looked at you like a Piece of meat.
you grabbed Rodrick's sleeve, "Micha's here," You said desperately. He noted your concern, and looked around for the boy, "Hey," he said, grasping your arms, "It's gonna be fine! if he starts bothering you, just come find me and we can make out or some shit!" He looked you in the eyes and smiled, trying his hardest to reasure you.
"Thanks Rodrick," you said hugging him.
"Of course!"
-------
Rodrick had decided to be social, so you just wandered around the house, looking at the people you knew, and those you didn't. When you heard that terribly familiar voice.
"Hey y/n!"
Well fuck. you turned around, and sent a glare that could kill toward the boy.
"How's the party?" Micha said.
The sound of his voice made you want to yell. "Good." you said, not looking at him.
"I haven't talked to you in a while,"
"I know." you kept your answers short and half assed. Hoping he would get the memo.
He didn't.
Lucky for you, Rodrick had pardoned himself from his buddies chit chat, to make sure you were alright.
An arm looped around your shoulders, "Hi," the boy said "Uh, Micheal, was it?"
"Micha."
"Oh, sorry meesha,"
"That isn't even close to my name."
"Cool" you were never really religious, but you took the time to thank god for Rodrick. "Now, Mickey, can you not tell that you're making y/n uncomfortable?"
"I figured they would tell me if-"
"Micha, I don't like you." you said, voice laced with anger, "I never fucking have."
The boy just looked at you sadly and nodded before walking away.
"Rodrick, thank-" you were cut off by a rather agressive and passionate kiss.
"Y/n I love you. It's okay if you don't love me back but seeing you that uncomfortable made me want to tell you."
you could only stand there shocked. "I- Rodrick I" you stuttered, "I love you too. I always have and I really want to thank you for keeping me close!"
Just hearing those words made his heart melt and his confidence boost dramatically.
"I know this is my party, but" He tried, "Wanna blow this place?"
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✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE
pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader
summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.
warnings: THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER MDNI!!! fingering (r receiving), exhibitionism if you squint, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.
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The female sat in a heap on the floor, staring intently into the oven. It was almost as though she was willing the cake to rise, trying as hard as she could to convince the damn thing to do what it was supposed to do. She’d already checked the recipe numerous times, trying to see where she might have messed up. Ellie regretted not just doing what Jesse had told her to do. Bringing you some flowers would be better than showing up on your doorstep with an inedible dessert.
“It’s not fucking rising.” She cursed to herself, grabbing a clump of her hair and giving it a sharp tug.
Dirty dishes littered her kitchen counters, batter still splattered on one of her cabinets from the earlier electric mixer mishap. The woman could have easily picked up a store bought cake when she was at the grocery store getting the stupid ingredients, but she had been dumb enough to think that something homemade would taste better. It would seem that the college student enjoyed making her life harder, because on top of what seemed like an impossible workload from her professors, she’d run straight home from her classes, hell bent on making the best strawberry shortcake you and Marley had ever tasted. She’d seen the strawberries in your shopping cart when she had run into you at the grocery store earlier and thought it would be perfect. Only. . . the rubbery cake that didn’t appear to be getting any fluffier was far from perfect.
She’d done everything that the recipe had called for. You would think that doing something as easy as baking a sponge cake would be a walk in the park for someone that was majoring in astrophysics.
The cherry on top was the fact that she only had an hour to get ready before she’d have to leave her house. Which meant that she didn’t have enough time to make another stupid dessert. She turned off her oven with a defeated grunt, angrily stomping over to her fridge to see if she had anything.
It was empty, just like she knew it would be. She doubted that you would appreciate it if she brought over a frozen vegetarian lasagna, but that was all that she had left. Ellie had run out of options.
The phone rang three times before the man on the other end picked up.
“Whatcha want, girl?” Joel’s southern twang sounded on the other line.
Her shoulders instinctively slouched, her rapid heart rate calming ever so slightly.
“Joel. . . do you know how to make a sponge cake?” She asked, opening up a cabinet so that she could start grabbing for the ingredients that she had already put away.
“A sponge cake?” He questioned. She could hear rustling on the other end, then the familiar sound of his reading glasses being placed down onto a flat surface.
“I’m having dinner with a friend, and I wanted to bring dessert.” She was mumbling now, she knew that. Ellie could just imagine the aging man squinting his eyes, pressing the phone harder up against his ear so that he could hear her better.
“Jesse doesn’t care if you bake him a damn cake or not.”
She should have been offended that he thought that her only friend was Jesse. . . but he wasn’t exactly wrong about that. She huffed, rolling her eyes before leaning her hip up against the counter.
“It’s not for Jesse. I’m hanging out with someone else.” She didn’t feel like telling him the entire story of how she had met you, nor did she think that he was ready to hear about Marley.
“Uh- alright. You got a pen, kiddo?”
The woman’s heart was pounding as she climbed the steps up to the small house. She’d driven through the neighborhood quite a lot over the last four years, but would rather die than admit to you that her plug just so happened to live just a few houses down. The bag felt heavy in her hand, embarrassment weighing heavy on her mind as she thought about the fact that she’d have to assemble the fruit and whipped cream after dinner, seeing as the damn cake was still cooling. If there was one thing she could count on Joel to get right every time, it was cooking something delicious. She’d seen the man make a drool worthy meal out of little more than a can of Chef Boyardee, a few onions and fresh parmesan.
Ellie wasn’t Joel though, and there was a good chance that you’d bite into an eggshell. She’d tried her best to fish them out of the batter, but she was positive that she missed a few. She debated just leaving the dessert in her car.
The woman’s feet faltered on the porch, the old wood creaking underneath her. The home was small, but it was obvious that you’d tried to make it nice. Freshly planted flowers were in a few pots right by the screen door. Ellie could imagine Marley’s dirty little palms stuck elbow deep into the pots, wanting nothing more than to help you. Her lips twitched upwards into a smile before she could even help it, because she could hear your voice behind that door.
“Marley Mae! Get your cute little booty over here!” A loud little squeal echoed around the house, followed by a giggle that would even make a weathered soldier’s heart melt.
The woman looked over her outfit one last time, then brushed her free hand over her lips to make sure she hadn’t nervously chewed all of the chapstick off of them. She was wearing the A-Ha band shirt that Jesse had given her last Christmas, and had tucked it into a pair of high waisted trousers. It was stylish without making her look like a try-hard. She held the screen door open with the heel of her boot so that she could knock on the brightly painted door.
Red. It was a nice color too.
You cursed under your breath as you heard the knock, your heart racing as you realized that your daughter was running around the living room with the shirt that you had neatly laid out to wear for tonight. Your nervous brain malfunctioned though- it must have- because you called out to her.
“It’s open!” You wished that you could suck the words right back into your mouth, because there you were, standing right in front of the opening door, in nothing but a lacy blue bra.
She was looking down at the small step up, a few strands of auburn hair falling into her face. She was wearing a pair of high waisted mens dress pants, and the sleeves of her band shirt was cuffed at the sleeves, which showed off her toned arms.
If your brain was malfunctioning before. . . now it has completely shut down.
Marley didn’t seem to care about the visitor. The little girl continued to run around, your freshly washed off-the shoulder top wrinkled in her hands as she ran in circles around the living room. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, so you couldn’t be angry. You’d reacted so strongly to her pulling the shirt off of the bed, which was your mistake. She thought it was funny when you chased her, and so you were the idiot for acting on your panicked impulses.
So here you were, completely topless and standing directly in front of Ellie, who still hadn’t noticed your partial nakedness seeing as she was setting the bag she was holding down by the front door. Was she too nervous to look at you? Or. . . was she usually this clueless about her surroundings?
“I was kinda scared that I’d driven to the wrong house-” Her eyes fell on the toddler running around with a shirt in her hands first, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. You could see her lips pull up into a mischievous smile, the understanding that the little girl was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to finally dawning on her.
Then she looked up at you, that same smile still pulling up at her lips and the corners of her bright green eyes.
But then she nearly died.
Both physically and mentally.
“Holy shi-” She stumbled back, throwing her arm behind her so that she could give you some privacy.
Because you were standing in front of her. In nothing but jeans and a bra. . .
And even calling that thing a bra was being too kind. The damned thing was merely pretty wire, polkadot mesh, and some lace. Ellie didn’t have to lay in bed and imagine what your breasts looked like. Not anymore. She’d gotten a full view of them along with your perfectly perky nipples, which was probably due to the box-fan you had turned on in the living room.
Ellie missed the panicked look on your face. She missed whatever words rushed past your lips, because she was too busy staring at your chest. You lurched forwards for her, and all the poor woman could do was stare at the way they bounced.
“Ellie, watch your arm!” You were stumbling forward, trying to yank her away from the old screen door.
You’d fallen victim to the loose metal grate too many times to count. The worst you’d gotten were a few cuts on your fingers that burned like a bitch. The fleshy part of Ellie’s forearm was headed straight for it though.
Ellie stumbled onto the porch, the terrible burning sensation in her arm not even registering.
“I-I’m so sorry,” She rasped out, eyes wide. Her cheeks were bright red all the way up to her ears.
Blood was dripping down to her fingers and splattering on the wooden deck, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her whole body felt feverish, so the fresh blood went completely unnoticed.
You were covering up your chest with one hand as you hurried out onto the porch after her, using your free arm to grab her and haul her blabbering form inside.
“I-I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to. . . I think you have the wrong idea about me. Honest, I was going to tell you eventually, but I-” Ellie wasn’t straight, and it would be unfair of her to ogle at you under false pretenses.
It was hard to say anything though when you were rushing her into the kitchen. Ellie could barely keep up with you, stumbling a bit. Your eyes were wide for some reason. Maybe you were understanding where all of this was going. Maybe you were religiously straight, and she’d just ruined any possibility of a friendship. Had you noticed her staring? Holy fuck, of course you did.
“I’m a lesbian-” “You’re bleeding all over the place!”
You both went silent, staring at each other with wide eyes. Ellie’s gaze on your face faltered, and slowly she looked down at her arm, where you were currently keeping a firm grip. Your knuckles were practically white you were holding her so tightly. The athletic woman could understand why now. She wasn’t just bleeding but bleeding.
She was used to injuring herself. Ellie and Joel were outdoorsy people. She grew up learning to fish, hunt, and live off of the land. Which meant she had fallen out of a million trees, stabbed herself a thousand times, and has had more near death experiences than she’d care to admit. Her survival training should kick in. . . but it wasn’t.
Because your boobs were still directly in her face.
Honestly, there was no other way she’d rather die. It would take her a few hours to bleed to death from a cut like this, even if she had sliced clean through a vein. Maybe, if she were lucky, you’d feel bad for her and take off the pants too. She wondered for a second whether you were wearing a matching pair of panties.
‘Please God- if you exist- I hope she is wearing matching panties. I’ll make up for every rotten thing I’ve ever done if I could just. . .’
“Hospital.” You croaked, your lips going pale.
Ellie finally noticed the vein in your throat pounding away. Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears too. The woman swallowed thickly and painfully tore her attention off of your chest.
“I’m okay. I’m not in any pain. Let me see if I can wrap it up and stop the bleeding. I’ll drive myself to the hospital if I need to.” Her voice was steady. Her profusely bleeding wound was the only thing she felt certain and safe about in this situation.
“Don’t be stupid, Ellie,” You shook your head quickly, disappearing out of the kitchen. “I’m taking Marley to my mom’s house! Give me two minutes!” You sounded like you were on the opposite side of the house.
The front door opened and closed before Ellie could protest. All she could do was stand over the sink, her shaky hand reaching for paper towels in an attempt to wipe up what looked to be a murder scene on the tiled floor. She was bleeding all in your sink too, the smell of iron thick in the air. The blood wasn’t clotting, and it looked nowhere close to stopping. She twisted her forearm around, wincing when she finally noticed the cut. It was clean- deep. If you had the supplies at home, she could just stitch herself up here. . . but Ellie had a feeling that she’d terrify you if she tried that.
So. . . the hospital was the only choice.
You’d tossed a shirt over your head so quickly that you hadn’t even seen what it was. Your red converse slapped against the pavement as you ran across the street, Marley bouncing on your hip, babbling excitedly in your ear. You silently thanked the heavens that your daughter was a habitually happy baby and wasn’t feeding off of your anxiety.
You were nearly in tears by the time that you made it to your mother’s house. She answered the door almost immediately, her hair held up with chopsticks atop her head. She smiled sweetly at Marley, who held her arms open for her grandmother.
“What on earth is going on, baby-” She paused as she noticed the blood on your hands. “W-What. . .”
You shook your head, already stepping off of the porch. “I-It’s not mine. My friend accidentally sliced her arm open. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you watch Marley for me? Just until I get home.”
You knew your mother would agree. You were already running down the street, her hurried “of course” getting lost in the wind that breezed by your ears. Your hair was a mess, your cheeks felt hot, and you knew that you were crying.
Because of course you were.
Tonight was ruined, and it was all your fault. The pot roast that you had put on early this morning tasted perfect, the house was spotless, and Marley had actually gone down today for her two o’clock nap. This dinner had been terribly important to you. It wasn’t until you were stumbling up the steps of your own porch that you finally realized how much weight you’d put on this stupid little get together.
Ellie might not even be attracted to you. You could be reading the situation all wrong, but you were hoping that you could have a chance at love. Didn’t you deserve it? You tried and you tried for everyone else aside from yourself, and this was the first time you’d done something selfish in years.
The girl of your dreams was standing in your kitchen, practically gushing blood in your stainless steel sink, and you’d blown your chance at happiness. Your version of perfect was never going to be enough for anyone. Because you were broke with little to no education. . . and a child that couldn’t even spell her own name yet.
You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you rounded the corner.
“Remind me to fix that door the next time I’m here.” Ellie wasn’t looking at you, which you were thankful for. She was too busy holding a wad of paper towels against the wound.
Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest.
Next time. There was going to be a “next time”.
Ellie followed your gentle guidance out to your car, begrudgingly getting in the passenger seat. She felt guilty that you had to drive her all the way into town. That. . . and the fact that she probably traumatized your child, what with all the blood. You fumbled with the radio, trying to find a station that she might like.
“I like this song.” Ellie said calmly, and what do you know. . . your hand dropped back into your lap.
The car plummeted into silence, Depeche Mode playing softly over the speakers as she watched the sun finally drop behind the horizon, bathing the two of you in a blue twilight glow. Ellie was very familiar with Jackson.
It would be at least twenty minutes until you made it to the nearest Urgent Care. So she leaned back in the seat and tightened her grip on her arm.
“Can I see you again after this? Or. . . I understand if what I said earlier makes you uncomfortable.” Your silence was making her feel on edge.
Ellie had single handedly ruined dinner. She had a talent for ruining things, actually. Ellie Williams was the kind of person that should live away from other people. All she needed was a backpack and a hunting knife, and she’d feel safe. Safer than she would in a neighborhood full of people, really. Wild animals, deadly or not, were predictable. Bears and wolves attack, so you’ve gotta intimidate them. If all else fails, aim for the head.
Ellie couldn’t read you, and that scared her. Terrified her actually, because for some reason she was certain that being turned down by you would break her significantly more than any other rejection ever had. It would be the kind of pain that kept you in bed for days, overthinking every decision that had gotten you to that point. She didn’t want to be old and alone, thinking about the girl that she’d liked in her youth. It pained Ellie to even think about forgetting the exact color of your eyes, or the natural softness that your voice possessed.
Ellie didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you yet. . . but give her a few weeks, and she knew that she’d be a goner.
It wasn’t that you were the only person available. You weren’t in her friend group, so dating you wasn’t just what should be the natural progression of things. This wasn’t a small campus crush doomed to fail. Ellie hadn’t stopped thinking about you ever since you’d first walked into Tommy’s restaurant.
“Do you think I’m homophobic or something?” You spoke up, shooting her a small smile from where you sat.
“I mean. . . we live in Wyoming.” Ellie trailed off, but her lips turned up as you began to laugh.
“Yeah, you do have a point there.” Your shoulders began to slouch, an audible sigh of relief escaping you. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me again after this.” You admitted.
Ellie didn’t strike you as the type of person that liked to feel vulnerable, so you owed her some embarrassing truths. Even if it ended up mortifying you.
“I’ve had at least ten concussions in my life. Fifteen stitches is child's play.” She used the hand that wasn’t currently leaking blood to wave your worry off, sinking deeper into the old seat of your car. “Uh-” She sat up quickly, turning her head to look at the road that you’d just driven past.
“I think we should have made that turn-” “I’m a lesbian.”
Ellie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her neck nearly popping with the force that she used to look at your face. You’d sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously, but your eyes were locked on the road.
“I know a shortcut. Relax, I’m not kidnapping you.” You added, turning onto a dirt road that she’d never seen before.
The hand that you had resting on your thigh was beginning to shake. You balled it into a tight fist, hoping she hadn’t noticed. That was the first time you’d ever said it outloud. Ellie was the first person you’d ever told about your sexuality, and you felt. . . liberated. And scared shitless.
“I’m not exactly too focused on the creepy backroads right now.” She mumbled, still staring at you.
The buttons on your dashboard were casting all sorts of shadows on your lovely face. Your eyelashes were so thick, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that you’d put on makeup for her.
And oh god.
She really didn’t have a gaydar, because holy shit this was a date. She should have listened to Jesse and gotten you flowers. She should have put more effort into her appearance- slapped some clear mascara on at the very least.
If she wasn’t bleeding all over the white dish towel that you had wrapped around her arm, then she would have told you to put your car in park. The urge to kiss you was hurting her more than the gaping wound did. She bounced her leg, trying to distract herself from the aching need that was gnawing at the pit of her stomach.
“I mean. . . I’ve never been with a woman before, but all I know is that I’ve never liked guys. Not even a little bit.” You were spilling your guts now, and you couldn’t even stop it.
You’d been waiting to tell someone all of this since middle school. You were practically shaking like a leaf. It felt good to say all of it though, even if you were setting yourself up to get hurt.
Ellie thought back to what Jesse had said about lesbians having children. Never once had Ellie felt the need to force herself to sleep with a man to appear normal. Instead she just. . . hadn’t shown any interest in anyone. She was sure that Joel thought that she was asexual when she was growing up.
You. . . you had done something that had felt wrong to you, just so that others wouldn’t see you differently. Ellie wasn’t the type to get emotional, but she found her eyes getting a bit misty. Her small nose wrinkled a bit as she tried to fight the feeling.
“You’ve never even kissed a woman?” Ellie asked, finally recognizing the road that they were on. They were close to the emergency room. Too close, actually. She was hoping for a few more moments alone with you.
“No.” You were mortified to admit it, but you needed to.
You pulled into the parking lot and threw the car into park. That was enough embarrassment for one day. The sooner you could get her seen by a doctor, the sooner you could silently begin to come up with a plan to save tonight.
“How ‘bout I kiss you,” Her warm breath was on your cheek. You let out a small gasp and turned your head, eyes widening as you realized that she was leaning over the armrest, her hand gripping the back of your seat. “And then you’ll know for sure. It’s just a test.”
If God existed, Ellie knew that her being gay wasn’t the reason she’d for sure be sent to hell. She’d physically hurt a lot of people. She’d been expelled from just about every school she’d ever been in. For a while there, she and Joel were moving state to state for what felt like every school semester. She was sharp tongued and knew how to really lash out at others. She had two very capable, very dangerous hands. . . and she hadn’t been afraid to use them.
And here she was, using your own inexperience as a way to kiss you. She was desperate though. No matter how fucked up this tactic was, she would never come to regret it. You could rip her heart straight out of her chest for all she cared.
Ellie wanted you in every conceivable way.
She’d be your best friend if that was the only thing you needed from her. She’d fuck you every day of the week until you finally got bored of her and called her away. She’d wake up early just to make those pancakes your daughter loved in the mornings. . . All you had to do was say the word.
She was yours.
“What if,” Ellie could feel your breath fan over her lips. Her eyes fluttered, but she somehow managed to keep them open. “What if you don’t like it?”
“I will.” Ellie nodded gently, wishing she had two good hands to hold you with.
You were the one to press your lips to hers. You knew what you were doing, which partially shattered her heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Ellie wanted to be selfish with you. She wanted to be your first everything. She silently cursed whoever had come before her, but her brain shut off completely when she felt your hand move up to cup her cheek. The ear ringing from earlier resumed in full force the second your lips began moving against hers, your warm tongue brushing against her lower lip. Her grip on the back of your seat loosened, and instead she moved it to the base of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her.
She was in control of herself. She had kept the fact that the two of you were in a very public parking lot in mind.
Until the second you sighed into her open mouth. Game over. She was ruined.
Utterly ruined.
Her bloody hand reached over and yanked the key out of the ignition, fumbling to place it on the center console before she started pulling you over arm rest. She needed the weight of you on her lap. She needed pressure- sensation. She needed. She needed. She needed.
“How tinted are your windows?” She mumbled against your lips, her strong hands gripping your thighs so that she could help you straddle her.
You’d never actually been turned on by any of your sexual partners in the past. You usually just grinned and beared it, then laid awake at night wondering why on earth you weren’t like other girls.
All the two of you had done was make out, and your legs were already quivering. You were dripping wet, and was far too distracted by Ellie’s very pink, very kissed lips to think about the fact that you were wearing jeans.
“T-They’re legal, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could barely think, your hands already tangling back into Ellie’s hair.
She didn’t have time to whine out a complaint, because you were so pliant in her hands. You were this weak little mewling thing on top of her, and all she could do was grip onto you. Had either of you actually known pleasure before? Because Ellie was positive she’d never felt anything like this. She wasn’t even being touched, but she was certain that she could climax just like this.
Her hands gripped your waist, then brushed up your stomach. She didn’t ask for permission, which she’d apologize relentlessly for later. You weren’t stopping her though.
If anything, you were the one that had started the touching. You were currently stretching out the neck of her t-shirt, one hand gripping her chin and the other one spread out on her back, playing with the straps of her sports bra. You gasped into her mouth again as Ellie’s hand finally made contact with your breast. She remembered the way you looked in that bra earlier. Remembered how your tits had bounced- looked like they were practically going to burst over the thin bit of fabric-
“Oh, fuck.” Ellie cursed, hips moving upwards before she could calm herself.
“Doctor-” Your voice came out in a desperate little whine, and Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hips lifting up against yours again, the friction practically causing her to jump straight out of her skin.
“I’m- I’m not bleeding as bad anymore. Please. Please.” Ellie was pushing your bra up and over your breasts, lifting your shirt up with her bloody hand just so that she could look.
She’d fuck you right there in the back of the hospital parking lot. She’d never wanted anyone this badly before. This was just as new to her as it was for you. This felt. . . this all felt different.
Because you were touching her back. You weren’t some straight girl looking to turn a boy on by telling him that you’d been with a lesbian before.
You were gay, and you were interested in her. Ellie felt like she had died and gone to heaven, because this was everything that she’d ever wanted. . . minus the wound.
It was her begging that had you leaning back on your calves, untucking her shirt so roughly that she questioned whether or not the two of you would have to fight for dominance. She tossed her shirt into the drivers side seat, smiling when your lips were back on hers the second she was topless.
Your hands were cold when you pushed them underneath the tight fabric of her sports bra. You took advantage of that, feeling her nipples hardening against your palms. Her muscles tightened in her shoulders as you pinched them between your pointer and middle fingers, gripping the small breasts a little tighter, wanting to feel the weight of them.
She moaned against your lips, eyes clenching shut so hard that fireworks exploded behind her lids.
It was too late now.
Ellie was on a mission to make you cum.
She felt guilty that the two of you hadn’t even been on a first official date yet, and here she was, planning to finger fuck you in a parking lot- but could anyone really blame her?
“I’m gonna fuck you,” Ellie pulled away from your lips, instantly recognizing that this wasn’t her asking for consent. She flinched, shaking her head gently. “Is that okay?” She rephrased it, moving a hand down to the waistband of your jeans. She gave it a gentle tug, letting you know that she was serious. She couldn’t stop herself.
“Y-Your arm, Ellie.” You moved to grab her injured forearm, but she gripped your wrist before you could.
“Let’s say I stop now. Even if we did that, I won’t get seen for another hour by a doctor. I’m going to sit there and think about this,” She cupped your sex in her hand, the tips of her fingers brushing over your clothed entrance. “The entire time. I’ll stop if you climb out, but if we stay in here any longer I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
You bit your bottom lip again, your eyes narrowing in concern. Ellie wasn’t bleeding as badly as she was before, but she for sure needed a few stitches. She didn’t appear to be in any pain though. If anything, she seemed more focused on you. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but shouldn’t you-
Ellie began fidgeting with the top button on your jeans, and that was all it took. You wordlessly climbed into the backseat, smiling widely as you heard her scrambling to follow you.
You thanked all that was holy that you’d taken Marley’s car seat out earlier that morning to give to your mother since she was watching her tomorrow. You had the entire backseat, and despite the fact that the two of you were still out in the open, you felt a little more hidden now that the two of you were ducked down.
Ellie was already taking full advantage of the added bit of privacy, the hem of your shirt already up to your neck. She was pushing your bra back up and over your tits, eager to really look at you.
She wasn’t sure what this meant for either of you, and she didn’t feel like ruining the moment by complicating anything. Ellie liked you, and she was willing to wait until you felt the same about her too-
Was she being overly self conscious and stupid right now? Wasn’t this. . . wasn’t this proof enough of how you felt about her? You’d been the one to take the reins during this entire friendship. You’d asked for her number and invited her over for dinner. All Ellie had done was kiss you, only after you let her know that you were interested.
Ellie moved her lips from your mouth down your neck, pushing her hands under your hips so that she could move down your chest. She paused though, looking up at you worriedly.
“Am I going to hurt you if I suck on them?” She wasn’t sure how nursing works. She didn’t exactly have an overflow of women in her life to tell her about those sorts of things.
You laughed, shaking your head quickly. You were panting softly, your cheeks deliciously flushed. “No, but I can still produce milk, so be caref-”
“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ellie had to brace herself, green eyes fully zoned into your beautiful, full breasts. So. . . if she sucked hard enough-
“Is this when you tell me that you have a mommy kink?” You asked playfully, starting to sit up.
“I didn’t,” She assured you, shooting you a small smile. “Until now. Lay back down.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, but you practically swallowed the noise when she finally closed her lips around your nipple, her hands making quick work of your jeans. They were unbuttoned and pushed down off of your hips before you could say anything. She removed her mouth from your breasts long enough to look at your panties.
And if god was real, they had answered her wish.
Because holy fuck you matched. Of course you did. She bit onto her lower lip hard, closing her eyes for a second so that she didn’t rip them right off of you. They were cute, and she wanted to see you in them again. Ellie wasn’t very good at being gentle in any aspect of her life.
Especially with you, it would seem.
She wanted to be mean to you all of a sudden. Leave bruises and marks to be explored later. She wanted to bite into your soft flesh and see just how easy it would be to leave hickies, but she couldn’t.
So she needed to breathe.
She leaned back up, pressing her lips against yours. She brushed her fingers against your thigh at first, letting you get used to the idea of her touching you. She desperately wanted to become more than acquainted with your cunt, but she needed to be gentle with you. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, your bare chest pressing against her clothed breasts. She wished she was naked. God, she regretted not being able to do this in bed. She’d gladly bleed to death if it meant that she could take her time with you.
She wanted to press every inch of her body against yours, but now wasn’t the time for that.
Her fingers grazed over your folds, and if her eyes weren’t closed then she was sure that they would have bulged straight out of her skull.
You were dripping.
Pride and possessiveness threatened to crush her ribs as she gathered up your slick, using it to rub a lazy circle around your clit. You jerked against her, but she didn’t let you pull your lips off of hers. She swallowed the strangled moan, eyes fluttering open briefly so that she could look at you.
You were precious.
She continued to draw circles, knowing that it was what she liked personally. She switched up the pace though, moving her arm to get better leverage. This time you were able to pull away from her, letting out a cry, your eyes opening so that you could look at Ellie’s face.
She was beautiful. Even with that predatorial look on her face, you couldn’t ignore the freckles and flushed cheeks. There was something so oppositional about her- how dominant but unassuming she looked. Here she was, moving you around like you weighed no more than a doll.
And then she sunk two of her fingers inside of you. The stretch was glorious, but it was the look on her face that had your walls fluttering around her. Pink lips parted to reveal her clenched teeth. Like she was damn near close to biting right into you. She was holding herself back fucking you like this. You weren’t sure what that meant, but your eyes were rolling to the back of your head the more you thought about it.
And then she brushed her thumb against your clit, her fingers nearly bruising your cervix as she continued to thrust them into you.
Your name escaped her lips then. She said it like a prayer. Like it was a promise.
Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that your much smaller hands couldn’t reach.
“Oh, fuck!” Your eyes were tearing up, hands fumbling around for anything to grip. You needed to hold something in order to ground yourself, because you were trying hard not to get the two of you arrested for indecent exposure.
Ellie was busy watching it all. She was sitting on her calves, greedily turning her gaze from your fucking gorgeous expressions to your glistening pussy, which was currently swallowing her fingers. Your walls were satiny soft, and she could feel them flutter around her as she continued hitting the same spot that got such a loud reaction from you earlier.
You were quivering under her, hands moving from the carseat, up to your breasts, and then your hair. You yanked at your locks, the pleasure practically too much. Ellie was this beautiful, vicious thing on top of you. It was obvious that she wanted to wrench out every bit of pleasure from you, even if you said it was too much. Even if you told her to stop. There was a glint in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be able to. She was just as hungry for your release as you were.
“Grip onto me, baby.” She moved to lay back on top of you, adding a finger for extra measure.
Your hands were at her back immediately, fingernails digging into her freckled flesh. She pressed her face into your neck, enjoying your floral scent- moaning at the pain and the pleasure that was building in her own abdomen. She almost laughed- finding her own impending release comical.
Because there was no way she was about to prematurely cum because she was touching you, a girl that she was pretty much head over heels for. The tightening in her abdomen was familiar though, and all she could do was lamely moan your name against your throat.
“You’re not gonna hurt me. Hold me tighter.” She mumbled, her hand moving quicker and quicker, the sounds echoing around your car bordering on illegal.
You were the hottest thing on the entire planet. She was sure of it. Her hands shook as your nails dug in deeper, to the point that she was positive she was bleeding. She wanted a physical reminder of what happened tonight. Scars and all. Whatever she could take with her later on in life, especially if this was a one time thing.
She needed every physical and mental reminder that you were willing to give her. So Ellie moved her face so that she was looking at you, even when her own pleasure was building to the point where her own knees quivered, finding it hard to hold up her own weight.
She watched you unravel. Felt your cunt practically swallow her fingers as you tightened around them. Your back arched, eyes pinched closed as your cherubic lips parted in a silent scream.
And then Ellie followed right after you.
She leaned her head against your chest, hips jerking forward as she continued to work you through the waves of your own pleasure, trying not to get drowned by her own.
“D-Did you. . .” You breathlessly started to ask, your big doe eyes practically the size of saucers.
“I promise, t-this is the first time this has ever happened.” Ellie admitted, feeling a touch of shame.
You wanted to take a few minutes to calm your pounding heart, but the sight of the bloody towel on the floorboard had you clambering to sit up, moving your bra and shirt back into their rightful places. Ellie was still trying to catch her breath, the muscles in her shoulders still twitching from her own release. You opened up the car door after snatching up the keys, and for a second the auburn haired girl felt terrified.
She bit her lower lip, wiping her dripping fingers off on her pants before grabbing her shirt and climbing out of the car. Alright. . . so this was it, right? You knew you were a lesbian now, and she would be left in the dust. It wasn’t such a bad arrangement, really. She couldn’t even be mad.
Technically, if she really thought about it, you’d been just as much her first as she had been yours.
Her boots crunched against the gravel as she followed you into the hospital, her heart still pounding in her chest. She shrugged on the shirt as she walked, careful not to tug at the wound in any way.
Ellie’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
She’d never gotten her heart broken by a gay girl before, and here it was. For some reason. . . she knew with certainty that this was going to hurt ten times worse than any of the other ones had.
But then the hand that wasn’t sliced open from elbow to wrist was being gripped.
Your fingers intertwined with hers.
“I’m sorry to break it to you babe, but you’re definitely a lesbian.” Ellie told you with a small smile, opening the door to the lobby for you.
“Oh, for sure.”
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Pairing: dbf!Joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)
Summary: You kissed Joel after you had that terrible fight with your dad and you have no idea what Joel’s thinking now. Did you just ruin everything or will he finally admit he likes you just as much as you do him? What about Michelle?
Content warnings: my blog is 18+ so mdni! Eventual smut, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s) dads best friend, enemies to lovers, slow burn, infidelity, family issues and daddy issues, talks about emotionally absent parent and effects it has, reader not feeling good enough for someone to love them, talks of healthy father daughter relationships, as well as a brief mention of being drunk. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!
|| wc: 4.2k || notif blog @chaoticnotifs || I love u ||
Within a few short moments, Joel was pushing you off him, his breaths shallow and the look on his face was already telling you something before his words did. “Darlin’, I-” He started, and he sighs deeply, great.
“Baby, I think you’re a little drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? Cmon, let’s getcha inside and get some sleep, lord knows you need it after all that cryin’. His hand smooths down his jeans over his thigh while his other hand takes yours gently, giving it a slight shake. You were sober as one could be but there was no more fight in you to argue, especially not with him.
“Yeah, probably right. Thanks for today, Joel. I appreciate it, more than you’ll ever know.” A soft smile grew on your lips before climbing out of his truck, walking to your front door. You wanted to turn around so badly and follow him into his house to his room, climb into his bed and just be held by him. Instead, you were faced with your cold, empty bed you dreaded laying in because Joel wasn’t there. It didn’t even dawn on you about Michelle until you noticed the last clean shirt you had with the bar logo on it that was hanging in your closet. The last you knew he wasn’t really with Michelle, more so on a break after everything at White Pony.
All night you tossed and turned, constantly looking out your window to Joel’s bedroom window who had a lamp on each time you glanced over. Your dreams were flooded with him, he suddenly consumed your every thought, awake or asleep. He was haunting you, the ghost of his fingertips on your skin, the way his soft lips felt on yours before he pushed you away. To be in the truck again and do it over, to kiss him longer and touch him, feel his skin and how his strong hands felt around your waist, to sit on his lap and just have him hold you right against his chest until he was content.
–
“Sarah cmon, you’re gonna be late, girl!” Joel shouts from the porch and you're awake, eyes fluttering open slowly to look at the ceiling. Sarah climbed out of who you assumed was her mother’s car and shut the passenger side door, running up the sidewalk.
Dad, stop! I’m coming, don’t eat all the pancakes!” Her giggle echoes between your houses and up your window, causing you to smile subconsciously.
Joel went inside before she made it to the porch, and her laugh got quieter as she shut the front door behind her. Soon enough it was quiet once more and you were left alone with yourself. Before you left to come back to Texas, one of your good friends mentioned to you about journaling and how healing it can be for you. With every intention of making it work, you started to dig through your drawers to find the little dyed green leather journal you got from the book store. It’s been through a lot, the way the pages are wrinkled from when it fell in the bathtub one night, some of the corners burnt from sitting next to an open candle flame for too long. Everything on its pages are things from being a kid you’re trying to process, doodles, everything you wish you could say to your dad. Journaling was sometimes helpful but most of the time it left you feeling empty.
If you didn’t harbor the feelings inside and constantly think about it, what were you supposed to feel? Is it normal to feel this empty on a day to day basis and was that something you really looked forward to? You sighed and tugged on your hoodie and pants, walking out into the hall to go downstairs and start your day with a cup of coffee. Ever since Joel watched you make coffee once at work, he hasn’t let up since. Every time he sees you with a travel cup he asks if it's hot or iced, knowing what the answer will be and he’s disappointed every single time.
With your glass almost empty by now and four pages scribbled on, you finally felt comfortable to stop. It was almost like you blacked out writing, not really sure what exactly you wrote down but it brought you that same empty feeling once more so that must’ve meant you were done for the day. A knock on your door takes you from zoning out and you’re met with Joel’s face, a plate of pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.
“Before you start, the orange juice was Sarah’s idea. I know you hate eating breakfast when you first wake up so I figured you’d nibble on these until you’re hungry enough to eat them normally.” His small smile makes your heart skip a beat and you reach out to grab the plate from him, along with the orange juice and you take a small sip, tipping the glass to him with a nod.
“Give Sarah my thanks, yeah?” The awkward silence was killing you and you were hoping he’d bring up last night. He just shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat, looking around at the neighbors homes as Joel racks his brain on what to say.
“Joel I-” you start but he cuts you off.
“Darlin’ it’s fine, you were drunk. We’ve all been there before.”
You groaned in annoyance and walked to the kitchen island with the front door wide open, signaling him to follow.
You leaned your ass against the counter top and folded your arms across your chest, glancing out the window above the sink to the left of you. “I wasn’t drunk, okay? I was perfectly sober. I wanted to kiss you, I’ve thought about it a lot and it was something I wanted. I’m sorry if you didn’t feel the same way. I know you’re with Michelle and I know she doesn’t trust me around you and I just gave her all the proof she needs to keep thinking that.” You were rambling out of nervousness and he just stood there and listened, his hands were on his hips while he looked at the floor. The bundle of anxiety was growing in the pit of your stomach and you were worried you just fucked everything up even more by bringing up Michelle.
“I-I just…I needed to know what it’s like to kiss you, Joel. I’m sor-”
“Honey, jus’ stop,...’kay? First of all, Michelle not trusting you isn’t because of you, it’s because she caught me one too many times checkin’ on you at work and she didn’t like it. You are a smart, funny, sarcastic woman and you’re beautiful but baby, you’re so much younger than me, not to mention my best buddy's daughter. This would never work, you and I.” Joel barely whispers the last part of his sentence and his shoulders drop, eyes finally meeting yours. The same rejected feeling crept up and bit you in the ass once more, a common feeling for you from almost every person you’ve met in your life.
“Not to mention you slept with Tommy, couldn’t do that to him.”
You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head at Joel. “Oh suddenly you and Tommy care who you share and pass around between the two of you? That’s really rich, Joel, considering he dropped that little nugget about you two tag teaming a girl while his drunk ass had to come get yanked out of my bed?”
Joel’s jaw clenched together and his nostrils flared slightly, the anger in him rising the more you called him out.
“Be careful if you’re gonna run your mouth about shit you don’t know.” The look on his face gave you a slight jumpstart to your heart and excitement in your tummy. He’s sexy when he’s angry but telling him that right now would only make him even more upset.
“So are you saying if I didn’t sleep with Tommy, wasn’t my dad’s daughter, and about twelve years older, I’d have a shot with you?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and walk over to him slowly with your arms behind your back, trying to look innocent.
Joel however, sees right through your bullshit and chuckles at your attempts to get more answers from him. “Did I say that?” He cocks his head to one side and watches you get close until you stop right in front of him.
“I might be reading between the lines, but oh well. Was I at least a good kisser?” You smirk at him and see the sparkle in his eye, Joel tries to fight back the corners of his lips from curling upwards.
“Why is it so easy for you to piss me off and then you wanna be sweet? You’re a damn sour patch kid.” The annoyance in his tone was only masking the laugh he was containing.
“That doesn’t tell me if I was a good kisser or not, Mr.Miller.” You grab the collar of his flannel and fix it so it laid flat and Joel’s breath hitched when you brushed against his skin.
Joel cracks his fingers in nervousness and hesitates before answering quietly, “I don’t remember, honestly. It was short.”
“Aw, is the age catching up to you, old man?” You tease, batting your eyelashes up at him.
Gently but firm enough to feel it, Joel’s hands meet your hips and squeeze firmly as he leans in, lips ghosting over yours. Now it’s your turn to have your breath hitch and the nervousness bubbled in your stomach.
His eyes close for just a moment before he grumbles,”Yeah I bet you wanna kiss me again. Does it get you all excited, baby? Kissin an older man like me when you’re not ‘sposed to?” He pulls back, standing up straight this time with the evilest grin on his face.
Joel could see you panicking to find an answer, an excuse, something. Without waiting for your answer, he turns on the heel of his boot and heads for the door, leaving you speechless and heart racing in the middle of your kitchen.
“What’s wrong sweet girl, cat got your tongue?” The door was shut before you could come up with a smart ass response to retort. Even worse than a cat having your tongue, Joel Miller had your tongue. If he wants to play this game with you, he’d soon be figuring out how much better at it you were than him. With the warm plate of pancakes calling your name from the marble counter behind you, you pulled back foil and watched the small amount of steam roll up into thin air.
Tearing into the fluffy pancakes, you rip a piece off and put it in your mouth, the butter soaked into the layers but still present. It was good at first and it had been a long time since you had a homemade breakfast. Before you can understand what’s happening, your fingers grip quickly and pull apart piece after piece and shove it in your cheeks as you close your eyes and feel the tears sting. To be cared for by a man who’s old enough to be your dad but isn’t your dad will always be hard for you. Why was it so easy for them to do kind things for you without a second thought but it was like pulling teeth for your own blood? For just a second you felt the jealousy of never having what Sarah and Joel have, that connection and inseparableness of father and daughter. The hot tears fall down your cheeks as your arms drop, no more soft pancake shoved in between your teeth as your brows furrowed in sorrow… anger, confusion…jealousy. It was almost as if a switch flipped and you were yanked out of your dark mindset over a kind gesture from your neighbor.
You grab a napkin from the holder in the middle of the counter and quickly spit out the mush, your vision so blurry and fuzzy from the tears. Your home was quiet with only the fridge buzzing softly and your runny nose sniffling subconsciously. Cold fingers wrap around the orange juice and you bring it to your slightly puffy post-cry lips, taking a small sip and letting the tangy liquid roll down your esophagus. You try to swallow your feelings and bury them deep inside once more to hide away the things you don’t dare talk about with anyone.
What little bit of jealousy still inside you causes you to push the plate away from the end of the counter, groaning in frustration at the meltdown you thought you had controlled.
~
Weeks go by and you haven’t heard much from Joel. His truck was gone when you got up early in the mornings trying to find a new job and his driveway was still empty by the time you were going to bed. Not a single phone call returned to you from him, your red landline phone he made fun of you for buying at a garage sale hardly rang unless it was someone trying to sell fake insurance. Thanksgiving came and went and it was like nothing happened between you and your dad, or at least no one brought it up when you gathered with the rest of your family at his house. They were all surprised to see you since you left years ago with your mother and never visited for the holidays but no one wanted to ruin the day of pretending you were a big happy family. The only people you called while you were away were your grandparents. They were like your best friends, always knew what was going on with you and they wanted better than what you got, they even knew their son made many mistakes when it came to the way he parented you. Even at your age now you still need them how you did as a little girl, clinging to their side when you felt overwhelmed by all the people swarming you asking millions of questions while you’re trying to get a plate of food. You sat in the corner in an uncomfortable chair while you ate your food but all you could seem to think about was Joel, where he was or who he was with, was he even celebrating today? He was probably with Michelle and her family, talking away about how great she is to her parents while the reality was that she was still upset with him over Halloween. They were just like your family, everyone pretending to be something they weren’t. Luckily it went okay without anything bad happening this time but there was still Christmas to come.
With the holiday just passing a couple days ago and still no sign of Joel, you decide to call him just to check up on him. Three rings into the call and you were praying to the universe he didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want him to be okay but you didn’t even know what to say if he did pick up. Just as the fourth ring starts, Joel’s deep voice fills your ear canals.
“H-hello?” He sounds confused at first but then it fades to irritation quickly.
“Joel..? Hey..” You stutter out as you shove the red handset into the crook of your shoulder and ear while you fiddle with the cord.
“What do ya want, kid? Somethin’ wrong?” You can hear muffled voices behind him but all you can focus on is Joel and the way his voice sounds like velvet over the phone.
“N-no, no nothing wrong I just..” your voice wavers for a moment and something inside your mind tells you to be honest with him even if it’ll blow up in your face. “...I miss you..and you left without saying a word…was it something I did-” You stop yourself from babbling on and cut the risk of looking even more dumb to him. Joel’s end was consumed by the muffled voices and laughter, a door being shut silenced the noise and it was just you and Joel.
“It’s kinda hard to talk right now, honey. I went with Michelle to her parents in Kansas for Thanksgiving. You didn’t do anything wrong. I'm just trying to get all of this sorted out, okay? You gotta remember I’ve been with her for a long time and it’s not just somethin’ I can just leave out of the blue.” Joel sighs deeply and your heart starts to get heavy inside your body, the phone cord tangled in your fingers.
“Okay, sorry for bothering you. Have fun and have a safe drive back, guess I’ll still be here waiting for you.” It wasn’t your goal to get annoyed with him but this was how you coped. You’d shut down as soon as something bad was happening and acted like it didn’t hurt. Like it didn’t make you want to curl into a ball of embarrassment when he didn’t say he missed you back. Before he could respond you hung up on him and unplugged the phone line from the handset so he couldn’t call back, not that he even would.
With the kitchen clock reading almost nine o'clock at night and your head in a mess, you figured it was more than needed for you to go to bed. Your bedroom window seemed so incomplete with the safe sight of Joel’s lamp lighting up the window it sat in. Before getting into bed you thought you’d feel better if you put on the Wizard of Oz, your favorite childhood movie. Tucking yourself right between your pile of blankets and pillows, you laid there watching the house spin and spin in the tornado but you couldn’t resist not looking over at Joel’s house every two minutes like he’d suddenly be back and throwing rocks at your window like those corny rom coms. Even imagining it seemed too crazy, you and Joel could never be like that. The ruby shoes were sparkling on your eyes as your lids got heavy and you were asleep within seconds, dreaming of Joel once again.
You wake up hours later to the DVD menu on loop and your front door being pounded on. With your heart racing you look out your window and see Joel’s truck in the driveway with the engine still running, driver's side door wide open. You wrap the throw blanket around your shoulders and practically run down the stairs to look through the peephole. A messy haired, sweaty, disheveled Joel was leaning against the door waiting on you to answer. Swinging open the front door, he yanks back the screen door that was separating you two and stepped inside, grabbing your face and walking you backwards.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’? You unplug your phone after throwin’ a tantrum and I can’t call you back, don’t know what’s goin’ on with you?!” Joel’s voice rattled you even though it was caring, it was still coated in frustration.
“I’m sorry I went to bed, I meant to plug it back in I’m- I’m sorry..” You look at his face and it dawns on you just how freaked out he was. He drove ten hours straight just to come see if you were okay.
“What did you think I was gonna do? Hang up and just go about my time in Kansas not knowing what happened to you? Bein’ a goddamn brat making’ it hard for me to get in touch with you.” Joel’s jaw clenches as his hands tighten on your face. His eyes haven’t relaxed yet and it’s almost like he’s searching in yours to find some truth to your actions, to find some reason.
You were speechless at him. Every time he did something it surprised you even more that someone cares about you that much to go the mile for you.
“Did you really drive all night to come back and check on me?” The hint of excitement in your voice makes Joel roll his eyes and a small smirk grow on his face. His face finally softens and he pulls you against him with his hands rubbing your back.
“Of course you wanna hear me say I drove ten hours just for you, crazy brat. Don’t ever do that to me again, understood?” Joels scruff softly brushes against your ear and you finally feel safe again, even if your relationship was up in the air.
“Would you maybe wanna stay with me, just until I fall asleep?” It kind of came out of your mouth before you thought about it but there was no more hesitating.
“I can, yeah. Let me go shut off my truck and I’ll be back in a second.” He kisses your forehead softly and walks back outside to his driveway, pulling his keys out of the ignition and locking the door. His black suitcase rolls against the pavement behind him on the walk back to your house. The sun would soon be up and shining through the tree branches but you had a hard time accepting this wasn’t a dream. He leaves his suitcase by the door and sits on the couch, sighing as he gets comfortable. Joel’s eyes watch you closely as you walk back to him with a water bottle directed to him to grab.
“Just try to be quiet when you leave, okay?” You mutter as you lay your head on his lap while tugging the blanket over you as you curl into a ball like a cat. Joel chuckles and rubs his chin slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable with the pillow behind his head. It came as no surprise to yourself that you were already preparing for the heartbreak you’d eventually have to feel when he left while you’re fast asleep no matter how much you tried to enjoy Joel being there in the moment.
“I’ll try my hardest, baby girl.” He teases, softly running his fingernails against your scalp. Joel’s breathing slows to soft snores that fill the living room, the only sound that was audible as the sun came up and soon drowned the room in warm rays.
Joel’s watch on his left hand read just a little after eleven and the house was still, your light snores getting his attention as he rubs his eyes of sleepiness. You looked so peaceful to him and he didn’t want to leave you just yet.
He grabs onto your shoulder and shakes you awake gently, brushing the hair out of your face that fell during your nap.
“I’m starving and I know you don’t have enough food here to feed the both of us. Cmon, let’s go eat…I’ll buy.” Joel was trying to bribe you and you hated that it was working. You sit up and look at him with barely opened eyes.
“Really?”
Joel stands up to stretch and his midriff is exposed by his shirt, causing your eyes to glance at the skin you hadn’t seen until now.
“My offer is good for another thirty seconds, clock is tickin’.” The playfulness in his voice makes you grin and you grab your house keys from the bowl of clutter near the front door. Your head nods towards his truck and he strolls outside, shaking his head at your outfit.
“You really gonna wear that? Don’t think the waitress would take too kindly to a shirt that says, “Cougars” with a heart…” His fingers pinch the fabric and he lets go, a small indent left on the shoulder piece.
While you both buckle in, Joel looks around for anything you could use to cover what he thought was a god awful shirt. He tosses a black hoodie at you to wear and you begrudgingly tug it on when you notice his company’s logo on the back.
“There’s nothing wrong with showing cougars love, Joel. Would you rather it say dad’s best friend?” You can see his eyebrow raise as he cocks his head slightly to glance over at you.
“Don’t push it.” He mutters and starts to head to the diner.
You both decide on a booth and look over the menu before ordering and Joel sips his coffee, taking in the strong notes of the blend to prepare clearing his throat.
“So uh- think it’s pretty obvious I can’t leave you alone no matter how hard I try. I need to get some stuff sorted out but I’m really not trying to string you along, kid.” His brown eyes flick up to meet yours and he extends out his hand to grab your arm across the worn table.
“I know I just…I hate not knowing if you’re with Michelle or not. We need to be careful around everyone, ya know- pretend that we still hate each other..” You lead on and cough slightly at the hand laying on your arm.
Joel nods understandingly, knowing exactly where you’re coming from.
“No, I’m not with-“
“Michelle, hi!” You finish his sentence as your eyes meet her piercing stare as she stands behind Joel. Her arms were crossed and nostrils flared, not understanding entirely what she walked in on.
“Michelle..”
fuck.
#joel miller x reader#code red#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller#dbf joel miller x f reader#joel miller x f!reader#no y/n#tw daddy issues#tw drinking#pedro pascal joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller pedro pascal#joel hbo#hbo tlou#hbo the last of us#no outbreak!joel miller#dbf!joel miller#dbf! joel miller#dbf joel miller#dbf!joel fluff#dbf!joel#chaotic mystery
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Taking your Marauder Boyfriend (writer's choice) home to meet your muggle parents?
YAY. this is so cute (will be james because he was #1 on my poll teehee)
james potter x gn!reader
----------------
"So... am I not allowed to use magic at all?"
You quirked a brow, looking at your boyfriend. James tended to be a little dramatic, but asking this question for the hundredth time as you were on your parents' porch was a bit much.
"You can handle not whipping out your wand for two days," you replied.
He smirked. "Which one? Either way that might be hard for me."
"Ew! Shut up," you whispered loudly.
"What?" he laughed. "They can't hear me."
You groaned. "No wand, no sex, no... just be normal, babe. I am begging."
"Fine," he pouted, reaching for your hand. "They know you're magical, I don't see why I can't just⎼"
"It freaks them out, babe."
"That's silly."
"You're silly."
He smiled a little, dropping his head on top of yours. You shook your head a bit, then straightened up as your mom came to the door.
"Hi, honey!" she beamed, reaching for you.
You let her give you a tight hug, then stepped back and grabbed James's hand again.
"Mom... this is James," you smiled.
"Nice to meet you," he said to your mom, giving her a shy smile.
"Nice to meet you, too, dear. Come in, come in!" she exclaimed, taking a step back to let you in the house. "Dad and I have been so excited for you two to come home."
You laugh. "Yeah?"
"Of course. You know how much we miss you when you're away."
"I know, mom. But I can't exactly do my whole magical thing when I'm here."
She shivers, her dramatics not far off from James's. If that behavior was any indicator, they'd get along just fine.
"Still freaky. I can't believe you can just... hm," she chuckles a little nervously. She was always a bit weird about magic. She glanced at James. "And you're able to do all of that too, yes?"
"Yes, ma'am," James nodded quickly. "But fear not, I was already debriefed not to do any magic while we're here."
"Well, good. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, dear."
"It's okay," he smiled brightly, squeezing your hand lightly.
And all was going well, too, until your mom insisted on showing James their new home theater in your old bedroom. It wasn't terribly showy, but they had a huge television and some comfortable chairs. You hadn't taken into consideration, though, that James wasn't exactly attuned to muggle appliances and technology.
"Whoa," his eyes went wide as your father showed him around the room. "And you all think magic is strange?"
"Babe," you say with wide eyes.
Your dad laughs, patting your arm. "Its, okay, sweetheart. You... you really don't have television?"
You shake your head. "Not usually. I got us a small one for our apartment, but... nothing like this."
"Now this is magic," James mumbles as your mom starts queuing up the movie. He glances back at you. "You sure I can't do a little?"
"No, love..."
"Can you make popcorn with a wand?" your dad teases.
"Yeah," James answers honestly.
Your dad quirks a brow, speaking quietly. "As soon as mom isn't looking..."
James laughs happily, squeezing your hand tightly.
"Knew they'd love me," he mutters to you smugly, though not without humor.
"We've still got a whole weekend, babe," you remind him.
"It'll be a breeze. Who could resist my charm?" He winks.
#james potter#james potter drabble#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter x gn!reader#james potter oneshot#james potter fic#james potter fanfiction#marauders#luna still hates jk#luna’s james fics#gender neutral reader
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absolution
words: 10k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, panic attacks, parental loss, kidnapping, established relationship, descriptions of violence
follows the events of the end of season 2/start of season 3
“rafe, whats wrong?” you ask, taking his face in your hands. you can see how visibly on edge he is from the way his eyes are darting around, hands clenching into fists then unclenching rapidly.
“it’s okay, princess, nothing is wrong.” rafe says, using the pet name for you that he always does when he’s definitely done something wrong, like gotten into another fight. he steps out of your hold, which is what makes you realize something is actually going on. he never rejects your touch.
“babe…” you begin, but then you hear it, a distant call. your furrow your brow, turning towards the noise. “what is that?” you begin to walk deeper into the house when rafe stops you by grabbing your wrist, tugging you back against his body.
“don’t go down there princess.” rafe pulls you into a separate room but you hear it clearer now that you're listening for it, a call for help, very clearly in rafe’s sisters voice. it sounds like it’s coming from the wine cellar but you can’t be sure.
“sarah? what is happening to sarah?” you ask, turning to rafe with wide eyes, scared of what is going on. you weren’t sure what to think when rafe texted you late at night, telling you that he needed you at his house asap. you were already freaked out from the drive over, playing terrible situations in your head as your anxiety spiked.
“shh, calm down, baby. just let me explain.” rafe leads you away and your mind is spinning too much for you to think.
“rafe, i’m starting to get freaked out here-” you say, but when he leads you to sit down on the couch, you follow him. you’re sure your boyfriend has some sort of reasonable explanation as to what is going on here because no matter how bad people try to make him out to be, you know the man that you’re in love with isn’t capable of doing all those terrible things he’s accused of.
“shh, drink this tea to calm you down then i’ll explain, okay?”
you realize then that your breathing is too fast, so you accept the tea, taking a sip of the warm liquid, feeling it soothe your throat. you instantly start to feel that something is wrong, and you look up at rafe with hurt and confusion in your eyes.
“rafe-” you begin, and he quickly drops to his knees in front of you, hugging you as you begin to hyperventilate, “rafe, what did you do?” you ask, and your speech sounds slurred even to your ears.
“i’ve got you baby. i’ve got you. i’m so sorry, god, i’m so fucking sorry.” you see him kiss the side of your head but your skin is too numb to feel it. your vision begins to go out and then you slump forward, everything going dark as you lean against rafes shoulder.
--
your blinks are heavy as you feel the last bits of sleep slipping away. you let out a groan and turn into rafe’s hold, realizing you must be on a couch or something as your leg slips off the thin surface. you press your face against rafes chest when your ears make out unfamiliar sounds.
you go to sit up when rafe tugs you back down, but you still get a good enough view of where you’re at.
“rafe.” you turn to him, fury in your eyes. “what the actual fuck.”
“baby, i promise i can explain.” but you’re sick of waiting for an explanation that clearly isn’t coming if he had to drug you last time to get out of telling you. you rip out of his hold and stand up, wobbling slightly as the effets are still wearing off. you look around the room, it’s rusty and small and when your eyes land upon a window, that’s when you realize.
“we’re on a boat?” you turn to look at rafe, who is now sitting up. his gaze quickly drops, too ashamed to look at you.
“you drugged me and brought me onto a fucking boat?!” you scream, running your hands through your hair.
“i had to go, baby.” rafe stands up, trying to grab your hands but you back up away from him, not wanting to feel his touch. “i had to go and i didn’t want to leave you there all alone. i did it because i love you princess.”
rafe must be referring to the fact that your parents died two years ago in a car crash, and rafe was the only person you had to lean on. “fuck you, rafe.” you head towards the door. you turn around suddenly before opening it. “you want to know the worst part?” you continue on before rafe can answer, “is that you thought you had to drug me. that you didn’t trust me enough to just come with you. i love you, rafe.”
you walk away at that, slamming the door so rafe can’t follow, but you know he will anyway. you walk across the grated walkway, looking out and realizing you’re so far from land that there’s none in sight, even far off in the distance. you go to head down the stairs onto the main deck, when you bump shoulders with someone.
“ward?” your heart drops in your chest. he’s supposed to be dead.
“y/n, it’s good to see you.” he says, and you turn to look at rafe, who of course followed you, wondering how long he’s known. how long he’s sympathized with you over losing a parent, how he felt the pain that you had felt, how you were working through the loss together.
“don’t.” you tell rafe when he opens his mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. you turn towards ward, feeling so overcome with emotions. “i’m glad you’re alive.” it’s all you can get out before sobs take over. you turn and run down the stairs, glancing back onto to see ward stopping rafe from following you.
ward has always been nice to you. he helped you get your family home back in your name once your parents died by briefly owning it as part of his real estate business only to sell it back to you for a single dollar. it was when you and rafe first started dating and while you’re sure that had a part to play, he could have turned around and sold the house for almost a million dollars but still chose to help you out instead.
you head to the front of the ship, wanting to get as much distance as you can at the moment. you find a spot against a crate and slide to the ground, your legs still feeling wobbly from the drugs. you look out at the ocean, finding the way the sun reflects off the waves beautiful, but you wish you were viewing it under different circumstances. you’re not sure how much time passes, but suddenly a man comes over to you.
“are you a stowaway?” he asks. you look up at him in confusion. you’re honestly not sure if you are, you have no context as to why you are on this boat.
“why?” you choose to answer back. maybe coming out was a bad idea, but it didn’t seem like rafe was trying to hide at all.
“captain asked us to look for stowaways.” he explains, leaning down to examine you. “i think you should come with me either way, pretty thing.”
you’re honestly getting very hungry so while you don’t want to see rafe (or ward, even if you’re glad he’s not dead), you get up and follow the man towards the bridge. you also have no clue what he will do to you if you don't follow.
“if you are a stowaway, you’re the damn sexiest one i’ve ever seen.” the man tells you as you head up the stairs. your eyes widen and you’re glad he’s walking behind you to not see your expression as you rush up the final steps, opening the door to reveal who you assume is the captain and rafe.
“she is not a stowaway.” rafe puts a protective arm around you, and you let him as the man gives you a dirty look.
“well, excuse me for being thorough.” he holds up his hands in defense. the captain gives him a nod, and he leaves the room.
“sweetie-” rafe says, but you step out of his hold, as comfortable as it feels, how familiar it is to have your bodies touching.
“i’m hungry.” you tell rafe. it takes him a second to get moving, mumbling something to the captain about telling him if they find anyone before leading you out of the room.
he takes you to the mess area and you eat, almost unable to swallow as you hold back the thick tears that are threatening to spill. you give him plenty of silence to tell you what's going on, but he stays quiet instead.
“y/n-” rafe begins when you get up, but you walk away without a word. you head back outside, leaning against the railing.
you catch movement from below and look down to see sarah. “sarah, hey!” you call, relieved to see that she’s alright, but she looks up with a shake of her head and holds a finger over her lips. you nod in agreement. you don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve always liked sarah, despite becoming more distant once you started dating rafe.
a minute after she hurries away you see ward, scanning the deck with a glare on his face. you don’t know all the pieces of the puzzle, but you’re beginning to put a bit together. “ward!” you call out. he snaps his head up to you.
“i’m a little busy right now, y/n.” he says, going to wave you off, but you want to help sarah.
“it’s about sarah!” that gets his attention as he walks up the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. “sarah? where is she, have you seen her?”
“n-no. i just wanted to ask if she was alright. she was yelling last time i saw her at tanneyhill.” rafe pinches his nose in between his fingers. “yes, she’s alright. i’m trying to find her to make sure she stays alright.” “okay, sorry.” you say, hoping your conversation gave sarah at least a little more time. you always admired her rebellious spirit, wishing you had some of it yourself.
--
the sun is just starting to lower in the sky when you hear a message playing over the loudspeaker “attention all passengers and crew, report to the tween forward hull… attention all passengers, all crew, report to the tween forward hull. that’s an order.”
you’re not exactly sure where the tween forward hull is, but you see a few other people walking quickly that way so you follow as the message plays again.
one of the men that you're guessing is crew opens a door, signaling for people to head inside. you follow the group, only pausing when you’re joined by the man who questioned you about being a stowaway earlier. he gives you a smirk that has your stomach turning. you stop suddenly, ducking into a doorway. you don’t want to be in a room with a bunch of strange men, and you don’t see rafe anywhere among the group.
you get a sudden feeling in your chest, one that’s all too familiar. you begin to panic, your hands shake and your legs give out. you slide to the floor as you feel the anxiety attack overtake your body. it’s been too much stress over the past 24 hours, you should have known that this was coming.
you can’t bring yourself to move as you rest your head against the cool metal, hoping you can get it to calm down on your own. if only rafe was here to make it all better. he could instantly lessen your panic with a soft touch and his sweet words.
you’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you can control your breathing. you stand up slowly, feeling your knees shake slightly. you head towards where the men were going but get confused. you head down a hallway, then another, then another, you’re not even sure if you’re retracing your own footsteps at this point or not. the panic begins to set in again when you push through a door and reveal that you’re outside. it’s completely empty from what you can see.
you head out, looking around when you see sarah by the lifeboats. “sarah!” you shout, running over to her. “what’s going on?”
sarah continues working to get the lifeboat into the water. you hear something and turn your head when you see the crane going. “sarah, please just tell me what’s happening.”
“i just…” sarah pushes her hair out of her face. “i just don’t have time, i’m sorry y/n.”
you step back as sarah starts to lower the lifeboat into the water, suddenly hearing yelling as you see the crane lifting a large golden cross. you leave sarah and head towards the commotion. you shouldn’t have run, you immediately regret it when you smack straight into people fighting. you realize quickly it’s jj and the captain, and the captain is holding a machete.
“are you one of them too?” he asks, and you don’t know what he’s referring to so you just stand there in silent shock. he suddenly knocks jj off and throws him overboard, and that gets you moving. kiara, who you just realized was there as well, gives him a kick, and you follow as well with a kick to his back. he falls down to his knees as kiara gives him a kick that should earn her a black belt, knocking him out.
you go to ask kiara what is happening, but she is diving over the edge. you look over to see that she’s holding a passed out jj above the water so he can breathe.
you head out onto the main deck right as a girl you don’t recognize drops the line holding the cross. rafe comes out from behind the crates to grab onto the rope.
“rafe!” you yell, running towards him. you go to help grab onto the line to help him, when suddenly the main rope connecting the cross to the crane is dropped and the rope pitches forward. your hand gets caught and before you can right yourself, you’re falling overboard. you tumble into the ocean, the sudden cold knocking the breath out of you.
it’s hard to tell which way is up as you swim, but you eventually break the surface.
you can hear rafe calling for you but you can’t focus on anything other than keeping your head above water. you’ve never been the strongest swimmer, despite growing up on the island.
“get y/n! she went overboard!” you can hear rafes yells even as the waves pound against your head.
you look up to see two more figures jumping overboard. “y/n!” you hear, and you turn to see sarah approaching in the lifeboat she was lowering earlier. you climb on with sarahs help, realizing pope is one of the people who jumped overboard.
you sit in shock against the bottom of the boat, hearing yelling but not being able to make anything out except for rafe yelling your name over and over again as another panic attack sets in.
the boat begins to speed away as you sit up in confusion. you don’t want to leave, you want rafe. that’s all you want. you see him look over the edge of the boat, yelling your name frantically.
“raaaafe!” you shout as the lifeboats engine stalls. you consider making a jump for it, returning to rafe, but you know that you would sink as you can barely move your limbs.
“y/n shut up!” you hear sarah yell, but you can’t focus on that right now as the engine comes back to life and you speed away from your boyfriend.
you lay your cheek against the rubbery side of the boat, letting sobs overtake your body as the boat gets smaller and smaller. “rafe.” you let out a little sniffle.
“god, y/n he’s not the guy you thought he was.” pope suddenly says. you turn to look at him, confused. “what?”
“he kept shit from you. bad shit. that cross? that belonged to my family and rafe stole it.”
“no, no, he wouldn’t do that.” you say, sitting up and wiping the tears off your face, even as sea water comes and splashes it, wetting your cheeks again.
“he drugged you, y/n, you’re not seriously sticking up for him right now?” sarah says.
“i’m just…” you realize that they’re all very pissed at rafe right now and you really don’t want to try your chances as you being thrown overboard. “i’m just confused right now. and exhausted.” “aren’t we all.” the girl you don’t recognize says. she sees your confusion and gives you a gentle smile, “i’m cleo.”
“y/n.” you mumble back, pulling your knees into your chest as the sun starts to set, making you shiver.
--
“y/n girl, it’s an island! you’re not going to be able to get it clean!” cleo says as you try to sweep the sand off of the makeshift floor out of felled tree trunks.
“it just makes me feel better.” you say, using the bundle of twigs you tied together as a makeshift broom.
“alright girl.” cleo holds her hands up. “well i’m heading down to the bonfire with everyone else. promise you’ll join us soon.”
“yeah, i will.” you nod. you finish cleaning the floor the best you can before you turn to yourself, grabbing the bucket of seawater you kept up here to put out fires and using it to rub the dirt off your arms and legs. you simply are not made for this type of living. you hate the bugs, you hate eating fish every night, you hate sleeping on the ground, and more than anything, you miss rafe.
“hey guys.” you say when you make it down to the beach, sitting on a log next to cleo, who you’ve gotten the closest to among the group. everyone else formed their little tribe, and it’s like you were the outsider, the only one wishing constantly for home. you thought you and sarah would get along more, but she spends all of her time with john b, pretending your don't exist, a constant reminder of her brother.
“what do you think rafe is doing with the cross now.” pope asks. you visibly jump at the name.
“pope, let’s not…” cleo says, reaching and squeezing your hand.
“i wonder if that fucker is melting them into gold bars as we speak.” pope continues.
“guys, stop.” cleo says more firmly as tears begin to roll down your face.
“she needs to hear this, cleo. it’s not right that she’s sitting here crying over a murderer.” jj stands up for his friend.
“i’m not!” you shout. “i know how you guys feel, damn you make it well known, but it’s hard for me to separate the man i loved, the only person who was there for me when my parents died, with the one that you know. so i’m fucking sorry if i’m sitting here crying over him, if i’m missing him. he was my rock, my everything, for years. i’m not saying you can’t talk shit about him, but at least have the decency to do it when i’m not around.”
you get up and walk away from the fire again, towards the water. the ocean has been your one solace while you are on the island. you’ve been practicing swimming every single day, and you even have tried some of the makeshift boards that john b made. you walk out just so your calves are submerged, closing your eyes under the moonlight as you feel the eb and flow of the waves coming in and then rolling out to sea.
you stand there for probably ten minutes before you hear the splashing of people joining you. you turn to see pope and jj standing there.
“we’re really sorry, y/n.” pope says, with jj nodding along. “it’s easy for us to forget that you didn’t know anything. we shouldn’t be upset at you and we will try not to talk bad about rafe while you’re around.” “thank you guys.” you say, giving them both a hug. you follow them back towards the bonfire, plastering a smile on your face as you sit and laugh at their jokes. it takes everything in you not to start crying again, but you know that they made a big step apologizing, and you need to show how much you appreciate it.
--
“guys wake the hell up!” you hear cleo say. you sit up suddenly, not really sleeping anyways, just laying on your makeshift bed.
“a plane.” you stand up suddenly as the rest of the crew starts to wake up. “there’s a fucking plane!” you yell.
“we have to make sure it sees us!” you yell, and start joining cleo in running to higher ground. you wave your arms and jump and scream as pope lights the bonfire.
“hey!” you shout as the plane starts to get further away. “no, no, no, no, fuck!” you scream, falling to the ground.
“girl, it’s turning around, get up!” cleo says, and you lift your head to see the plane heading towards the pond. you feel tears running down your face before you even realize you’re crying. you hug cleo as tightly as you can before taking off towards the plane.
you stay back as john b talks to the pilot. sarah gives you a look and you share the same one right back, this guy is sketchy, and the plane certainly isn't in good condition. the pilot introduces himself as jimmy and while you’re a little bit more apprehensive about getting on, cleo seems too excited for you to point out how weird he is to her, so you climb on.
you sit towards the back of the plane, happy to look out the window and keep to yourself. you just want to get back to the outer banks, back to your bed, and hopefully, back to rafe. despite everything the pogues have told you, you can’t damper the love you still feel for rafe. you know it’s messed up what rafe did, but you also know that everything he did was for the good of his family, and for you. he knows from seeing you lose your entire family in one moment how precious it is.
the others begin to whisper, and you lean in to listen. jj thinks that the pilot works for ward. they begin to look through his stuff, and you half heartedly join them, not understanding why they’re so upset. they’re still getting off the island either way.
once they find proof, they begin to form a plan. while jj attempts to put the proof back, jimmy sees, and turns around, letting go of the wheel. you scream as the plane begins to shake up and down. your heart begins to beat fast again as you look out the window in attempt to distract yourself and stop the oncoming panic attack, but all you see is the sea approaching way too fast as you drop altitude.
you accidentally fall into cleo, but she holds you close as the plane suddenly hits the water, going nose first. you black out for half a second before you realize how much water is flooding the plane. you kick open the door and begin swimming out, towards where men are gathering on the shore. you assume they are police and can help you get home.
you ignore any commotion going on behind you and focus solely on swimming towards the beach. you see kie pulling jimmy onto the shore and rush to help her. “kie…” you begin as you see four wheelers approaching you, who do not look friendly. “we gotta run.”
she nods and sets off towards the town, but theres so many people. “split up.” she whispers and you nod, running the opposite direction, but when you go to turn, you’re quickly snagged around the waist. you let out a shrill scream as you’re tossed into the back of a truck. you try to see if kiara gets taken as well, but you can’t tell.
--
you’re brought into a mansion, directed right up into a bedroom. you try to look around the place for kiara, but you don’t see her. you hope that means that she’s gotten away, but you can’t be sure. there were just so many men swarming the beach within minutes.
a couple of the guys ask you questions but you stay completely silent. you were hoping the men were police, but clearly there is a different power at play here.
“dinner at 8. get dressed.” the man who lead you to your room says before slamming the door. you look around at all the comforts you’ve lived without. you have no clue what time it is now, but you rush into the shower. you’ve been longing for one ever since you got onto that godforsaken boat. you strip down and scrub your skin clean, finally able to brush out your hair. you stay in the shower until the water starts to get cold.
you get out and while drying off find a pale blue dress and undergarments laid out for you. what kind of weirdo has this stuff already available you don’t know, but you get dressed anyways once you’re dry. you admire yourself in the mirror, finally seeing the version of yourself that you’re used to seeing.
you look at the bed but don’t dare sit on it, not when you know that you’d fall asleep and not want to get up from the plush surface. you watch out the windows, trying to memorize the movement of the armed men, until a maid opens the door.
“they’re ready.”
you nod and follow her downstairs nervously. she gestures to an open door and you see a man with his back to you, pouring himself a whiskey. your heart instantly feels a burst of pain as you think of how much rafe liked his whiskey, and then the man is turning around, and your heart doesn’t just burst, but shatters into a million pieces.
“rafe.” you sob, running towards him as he moves around the table to get to you.
“y/n, oh my god, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i’ve missed you so much.” you sob into rafe’s shoulder, letting your tears wet his suit. “i love you.” you pull away to look him in the eye. “i love you rafe.” because no matter what anyone else said, you do love him, with your whole heart.
“no baby, don’t so that.” rafe holds your face in his hands. “i don’t deserve your love for what i did for you. i’m so sorry baby.” he leans in and finally finally connects your lips in a kiss you melt against him, having thought about this moment the entire time you were apart.
“i love you too.” rafe says when he pulls away for a moment. you both go to resume the kiss when you hear footsteps. you take rafes hand in yours and turn to the door, eyebrows raising up when you see kiara. you were so sure she’d gotten away.
“kie-” you begin, but you see her eyes turn to rafes face, and then your joined hands.
she starts to yell, but a voice stops you. you just now realize there is a man in the connecting room.
“who are you?” rafe asks, and you step slightly behind him, squeezing his hand in fear.
“me? my name is carlos singh.” the man replies. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, mr. cameron, and your lovely girlfriend.” he gives a nod towards you before addressing kiara. “please, come sit down.”
“she doesn’t need to be here for this. please.” rafe says. carlos singh looks you over before giving a nod to the man by the door.
“no rafe, i want to stay with you.” you say, afraid of getting separated again.
“don’t worry, mr. cameron will be returned to your room.” singh says, and for some weird reason you trust him on that. while you wouldn’t trust him with anything else, he doesn’t seem like the person to lie. he’s got too much power to need to do that.
“i love you.” you tell rafe as the man places a hand on your arm, guiding you out of the room. you look back before the door shuts, seeing the hurt on kiaras face and the love on rafes.
--
you listen to kiara and rafe continuing to argue over the diary, like you have since they were dropped back off in the room you were in. they came and watched something by the window, but rafe made you stay back. you jumped when you heard a gunshot, and he quickly came back over to hold you tight to his chest, refusing to tell you what he saw.
“guys, can we just breathe for one second.” you say.
“i don’t even want to hear from your right now.” kiara says with an exasperated laugh. “i mean, we told you every shitty thing your boyfriend did and you just take him back like this?”
“don’t talk to her like that.” rafe says, and then they begin to argue again. you close your eyes, wishing you could drown out the noise.
“shut up!” you yell after a minute, unable to take it anymore. “just shut up. either kiara doesn’t know where the diary is or she isn’t going to tell you rafe. either way we are in the same position. we have to figure something else out.”
you’re delivered dinner a half hour or so later as you attempt to think of a plan. you eat in silence, sitting next to rafe while kiara is across the room. you’re convinced if you could just explain why you forgive rafe that she would understand it. just like she looks out for her family of pogues, rafe looks out for his family. but you’re not in the mood for anymore shouting and when night falls, you begin to prepare for bed after making a plan. no use trying to stay up all night in preparation for something and being too exhausted in the morning to make a move.
“here, baby, i found you pajamas.” rafe says, handing you some clothes so you could get out of your dress. kiara takes the other set into the bathroom and changes before you and rafe go in there together. he helps undress you, peppering kisses all over your body as he does so.
“i missed you so much.” rafe says. “i sent planes out every day to look for you. sorry this singh guy found you first.”
“it’s okay.” you soothe your hands over rafes shoulders, before bringing one up to the back of his head to feel his short cropped hair. “i knew you would look for me.”
“i never should have brought you along at all. it was selfish of me.” rafe pouts, but you kiss the frown off his face.
“your mistake was not telling me everything that happened when it happened. if i would have known, i could have helped. that’s the only reason i was upset. we could have made better decisions together.” “never keeping anything from you again.” rafe promises as you get dressed into your pajamas. rafe stays in his suit, not finding any clothes for him. you come out of the bathroom to see kiara is already on the couch, turned away with her back to you.
you watch as rafe lays down on the bed, pulling back the covers for you to get in next to him. you pause before you touch the sheets.
“what’s wrong?” rafe asks.
“it’s been… a month since i’ve slept in a real bed.”
“baby.” rafe sighs, taking your hand in his and tugging you gently. you finally lay down against the silky sheets, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of the mattress sinking underneath you. “i promise you’ll never have to sleep on the ground ever again.”
“rafe.” you turn to look at him in the darkness. “our priority has to be getting back to the outer banks, yeah? i want to go home. fuck the gold, fuck the diary, fuck it all. home, please.” “yes, of course, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “i’ll get you home, promise.”
“thank you.” you kiss rafe again, feeling that level of comfort and contentment that you’ve been missing. you let him bundle you into his arms, holding you close to his warm body.
“now tell me all about where you were.” “well, they called it poguelandia…”
--
“baby.” you feel rafe shake you. “babygirl, you gotta wake up.”
“mmm.” you hum and shake your head no. “don’t want to.”
“i know, princess, i promise i’m gonna get you home soon but kiara just left to talk to mr. singh and i don’t know whats about to happen.” the reality of your situation begins to set in. you sit up, realizing you’re not at home, happy in your own bed.
“so sorry, princess.” rafe says, giving you a kiss as you get out of bed, slipping your shoes on incase you have to run.
“kiara left?” you ask, rubbing your eyes as rafe finger combs through your hair.
“she went to talk to mr. singh. i don’t know what about but i need you to just be ready for anything. no matter what happens though, you keep yourself safe, okay? even if that means abandoning me.” “what? rafe no.” you shake your head, grabbing his hand. “i’m not letting us get separated again.”
“you have to, baby, if it means not getting hurt. i can’t lose you, okay? i already blame myself too much for holding that fucking cross up instead of diving in to save you. instead, they got you. that’s my fault.” “you didn’t know what was going on. you didn’t know they’d take me. you thought you’d get the cross secured and then you’d rescue me.”
“i should have prioritized you over that fucking gold.” rafe places a hand on your jaw, raising your head so you have to look at him. “don’t try to make it seem okay baby. its my biggest regret.” “after drugging me.” you whisper, then let your smile slip. it’s not funny by any means, but god, you’ve been through some shit and your only coping mechanism right now is a bit of humor.
“after that, yeah.”
you’re about to respond when kiara enters the room. “what happened, kie?” you ask, noticing she’s starting to cry. you leave rafes side to wrap your arms around her as she sits down on the couch. you’re surprised she doesn’t push you away.
“we aren’t getting out.” kiara finally says, picking her head up.
“we just need to work together.” you tell kiara, squeezing her shoulders. “we’ll be okay.”
“i’ve got a boat that can get us off the island. back home. we just have to get out of here.” rafe says.
you hear a car engine and all three of you rush to the window, seeing men pile up in the back of the truck bed. “they’re going to find john b.” kiara says.
“and sarah.” you look to rafe.
“as if he cares about sarah, he shot at her.” kiara says.
“what i did to sarah… what i tried to do… that was wrong. i never should have touched her, alright? i know that, so you don’t have to remind me.” rafe begins to pace, running his hand over his head as tears begin to fall. “she was family, i never should have touched her, but i just lose control in moments like that, i don’t know what happens, and im trying, im trying to get better.”
“we know, rafe, hey.” you stop his hand from hitting his own head. “hey, baby, we know.” rafe lets you wrap your arms around him, leaning to rest his head against your shoulder as you rub over your back. “i’ll help you work on it, i promise.”
you give kiara a pleading glance, hoping she will help rafe know that everyone doesn’t see him as a bad guy. “okay, rafe.” she nods.
--
“are you sure about this?” you ask rafe.
“yeah, get in the wardrobe. don’t come out until i get you like we planned.” rafe says, leading you into the bathroom.
“i can help, kie tell him” you say.
“no offense but it’s better if you stay in there.” “okay.” you concede, sitting in the wardrobe and closing your eyes as rafe closes the door and begins to stage the fight. you try to drown out the yelling, even though you know it’s fake.
you want to scream when you hear the guard and rafe fighting, but after a minute, the door opens and you rush out to see rafe unhurt.
you follow them out the room and down the stairs. you keep tight to rafe, trusting him to get you out and protect you.
“kiara, come on.” you whisper as she stops to take a picture of the painting on the wall. “kie.”
she stops typing and rejoins you as you head outside. rafe makes you stay back for a minute as he looks over the fence before kiara gets an idea and you all take off, running after a truck.
“come on, baby.” rafe says as you all climb over the fence. you barely make it to grab onto the truck, but when you do, the three of you are met face to face with a man sitting in the bed.
“rafe.” you say when he pulls himself up and over the side, punching the man in the face repeatedly. kiara helps you get all the way in.
“rafe!” you say again as the struggle continues, until rafe throws him out of the truck. “rafe, oh my god.” you say, seeing his true power for the first time.
“shh, baby it’s alright.” rafe sits down next to you, seeing how scared you are. “i had to do it for us, okay?”
you nod, but kiara doesn’t look convinced. “for us.” rafe repeats, putting his arm around your shoulders.
kiara peaks over the top of the truck. “we have to cover ourselves, guys. there’s a checkpoint.” thankfully there’s a tarp in the truck. you arrange it over top of your bodies, rafe lying almost completely over top of you, and you know it’s for your protection. you hold tightly to his arm as the car slows. thankfully they just take a quick look in the back before letting you through.
you let out a big sigh of relief when you make it through. “to the boat.” rafe kisses the side of your head. “we are heading to the boat.” he looks over you to kiara, and you nod at him. “kie, we can give you a ride out, drop you somewhere safe.”
“come on, kie, you don’t have a better option right now. i know you don’t trust rafe, but trust me.” you tell kiara.
“okay.” she whispers.
--
“go sit princess, i have to get us untied.” rafe tells you as you get onto the yacht.
you nod and sit on one of the deck couches, stretching your legs that are unused to so much running. “come on, kiara.” you call to her, noticing she’s still on the dock.
kiara stares at rafe as he heads to the helm, but eventually gets on. “can you get the bowline?” he asks her.
“i, i can’t get it.” kiara calls after a moment. “i need some help.”
you go to stand up but rafe stops you, rushing over to get it undone, not knowing how much time you have. as soon as it’s untied, kiara surges towards rafe, shoving him over the edge.
“kie!” you yell, running to the railing, but kiara stops you.
“us or him.” she says, and you know your answer as you jump overboard to join rafe. there’s no way you’re going to do anything to stop kiara. you understand her need to help her friends and don’t want to stand in the way. you trust rafe to get you off the island another way.
rafe starts yelling at kie as she drives the boat away, but calms down as you swim over to him. “it’s okay, rafe, we’ll figure it out.” you say, swimming towards the ladder on the dock.
“she took away my best opportunity to get you home, princess, you should be mad at her too.” rafe says, climbing out after you.
“she needs to rescue her friends… our friends. they’re mine too.” you’re not sure if they would agree with you, especially after kiara tells them that you’re back with rafe,
“they would hurt you if it meant getting ahead.” rafe says, grabbing your hand to lead you off of the dock. he needs time to formulate a plan, but here is not the place to do it.
you rip your hand out of rafes grip. “as if that isn’t all you’ve done to them. all they try to do is survive, and all you have done so far is take. for greed, as if you already aren’t rich enough. you’ve been terrible to them too. don’t act like everything is their fault and you’re innocent.” “why’d you come back then huh?” rafe asks, stepping close to you so you have to angle your head up to look him in the eye. “why’d you come back if you love those fucking pogues so much.” “i love you, not them. you want to get better? then you need to see the error in your ways. the things youve done wrong, but i am not going to leave you, especially not for them.” “fuck.” rafe groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “you're right. i’m sorry.”
you hear a commotion and pull away suddenly. “we gotta go.” rafe says, retaking your hand in his. you run off the dock and towards the town, hoping to be protected by the crowd.
you eventually find an alleyway that you can at least take the time to dry off in, letting the warm air and bright sun dry your clothes out.
“what’s the plan now, rafe?” you ask.
“you leave it to me, okay honey? i’m gonna figure out some food for you first.” “i can help.” you tell rafe. “i had to figure out how to survive without you, i am not completely incapable.” rafe rubs his eyes. “i know. i’ve just done so much to you already, i don’t want to put you through anything else. i love you, baby.” he kisses your forehead gently before holding you against his chest. you accept the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist while you simply enjoy that moment alone.
“i know you can help but stay here for just a minute, okay? i’m going to go swipe a wallet so we can buy some food. i know you’re hungry.”
there’s no denying that rafe is right, and while you feel bad having him take from a stranger, you really need it. rafe comes back only a few minutes later with a wallet in his hand and someone else’s hat on his head.
“got this for you.” he hands you a hat as well to help cover your face.
“what did you do?” you ask, noticing his bloody knuckles. “rafe-”
“please, don’t judge me for anything i do until you’re back home. i know you want me to get better but i can’t do that if either of us get retaken by mr. singh. okay?” “okay.” you whisper. “so are we getting food now?” “i’ve actually got a better idea.” rafe sticks his arm out for you to take and you accept it, curling your hand around his biceps as he leads you back towards the docks.
“just stand by me and be quiet and smiley okay? you’re my wife, mrs. tompkins.” you realize then that rafe is walking towards a cruise ship. your eyes are wide as you get in line, nervous you’re going to get caught, but you trust rafes charm.
“how you doing boss?” the man asks as rafe slides the hat off his head.
“good. how are you?” rafe asks as he hands over the stolen id, and you give the man the most even smile that you can manage.
“oh, living the dream.” he gives a nod at you. “you got some sun since you took this photo, man. there you go mr. tompkins, mrs tompkins.”
you’re relieved he doesn’t ask to see your id. you give him another smile as rafe leads you up the stairs. “holy fuck, rafe i can’t believe that worked.” “i know, we’re just gonna have to lay low, okay? i have hisvroom key but i’m sure they’re going to find a phone and call soon. we just have to hope that it’s after we reach the next port.”
--
“thank god.” you sigh as your foot finally lands on north carolina soil.
“we’re home.” rafe kisses your cheek, leading you towards a car that’s going to take you back to your house. rafe has been having people look after it, coming in once a week to clean and make sure nobody has broken in, but you’re only concerned right now about taking a long bath in your own tub and putting on your favorite pair of pajamas.
“i want to spend the next week inside my room.” you say excitedly as you sit down in the back seat of the car, rafe sliding in next to you.
“we can do that, princess.” he smiles, reaching across your body to do up your seatbelt. “i have some things i have to take care of, but you come first.”
“just promise me if you hear anything about john b or the pogues that you’ll help them out if you can. you owe that to them.”
“i will.” he squeezes your hand. “i promise.” you watch the familiar scenery as the car gets closer to your house, letting out a whimper when your own house comes into view. so many memories with your parents there all came flooding back, and you realize that you’re crying when rafe uses his thumb to wipe away your tears before helping you out of the car. he thanks the driver and leads you up the driveway, unlocking the door and then handing you the key, happy that it’s returning to your possession.
“hi mom, hi dad.” you whisper as you look at the picture of them placed on the entryway table. you pick it up and hold it close to your chest, and rafe must understand that you need a moment, waiting until you set the picture back down to lay a hand against your back, guiding you upstairs.
“will you get in with me?” you ask as you turn the bath on, finding everything in the same place it was when rafe called you over that night, except for the laundry that was piling up in your basket is done, you assume put away.
“of course.” rafe helps you concoct your bath, knowing exactly what you like in it. a hefty scoop of epsom salt, some drops of lavender oil, activated coconut charcoal and some organic flowers and herbs that you love to sprinkle in as well.
as the large tub is filling, rafe helps you undress, peeling your tshirt off of you and tossing it onto the floor. he presses a line of kisses across your collarbone before he connects your lips, reaching behind you to take off your bra. your own hands move to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them so you can slide it off his shoulders.
“sit down for me, baby.” rafe says, and you sit down on the stool in the bathroom, letting him kneel down and take off your shoes, carefully untying the laces and then taking your socks off as well. he rubs the sole of your foot with his thumbs for a minute before you stand up to finish undressing. rafe is quick to get himself nude as well as you take off your pants.
rafe slides himself into the bath first, letting you get in between his legs, thankful the tub is large enough to stretch out. you lean your head against his chest, closing your eyes and letting all of the tension out of your body.
“love you so much, my perfect girl.” rafe says, kissing the top of your head. you smile, a real, true smile that feels unfamiliar because of how long it’s been.
you both grow silent, occasionally moving just to readjust. you take rafes hand in yours after a couple minutes, lacing your fingers together.
“rafe… did they clean my parents room?” you ask.
“no.” he shakes his head. “i told them to leave it alone, not even to dust.”
“thank you.” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting the bath soothe your sore muscles. you know eventually you need to venture into their space, but it’s still too fresh for you. you also know that when it is time, you’ll have rafe by your side.
rafe brings his hand up to your shoulders, and you sit up a bit as he massages them, and then down to your back. rafe always takes such good care of you, you see every good thing inside of him that he only lets you view.
you turn around suddenly, pressing your lips against rafes. “you’re not a bad guy.” you tell him.
rafe goes to shake his head, but you stop him. “you’re not a bad guy, rafe. a bad guy would have left me when my parents died and i wasn’t able to get out of bed for a month. a bad guy wouldn’t care so deeply for his family that he’d do anything for them. you’re not a bad guy. i see your heart.”
rafe tugs you onto his lap, holding you close to his body, letting a few tears fall. “i see you.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. you stay close until the bathwater starts to cool down. you finally pick your head up and give rafe a gentle smile.
you both get out of the bath and rafe insists on drying you off, gently patting the towel over your arms, torso, and then legs. you quickly blast your hair with a hairdryer just so it isn’t completely wet for bed.
it’s so natural, this routine with rafe. it's almost like the past two months never happened, like your life was never changed forever that night he texted you.
you head into the bedroom, rafe following quickly behind you. you get out your favorite pair of matching pajamas. your parents had a tradition of gifting you pajamas every christmas eve, and it continued all the way up until you were an adult. your favorite pair is now the last pair they will ever get to give you. you hug them close to your chest but don’t put them on yet. while you’ve reconnected with rafe, there’s a way that you haven’t reconnected yet that you’ve been craving, needing to finally feel right again.
“baby, we don’t have to.” rafe says as you set your pajamas down on the nightstand for after.
“i want to rafe. i want you.” you kiss him, pressing your bare body against his.
“if you’re too tired…” rafe begins, even as you feel him swelling against your abdomen.
“i’m not. i promise. i need this rafe.”
“on the bed then, princess.” rafe says. you smile and let yourself fall onto the bed, arranging your head so it’s on the pillows. even though you’ve slept in a bed since you left, there’s nothing like your own. you can practically feel the way it molds into your body.
rafe hovers at the edge of the bed like he’s steadying himself mentally as he looks over your body, the scar on your hip from when you fell on the island bringing a whole new pang of guilt, but he pushes it down, for you.
“my goddamn perfect girl.” rafe says, getting on top of you and kissing your lips, gently at first, before deepening the kiss. you groan when he pulls away after a minute. you could kiss him forever, but he quickly makes up for it by kissing along your jaw, then your neck, taking the time to suck a hickey onto the sensitive skin.
you shiver at the feeling of getting marked by him. rafe continues lower, taking your breasts into his hand as one of his tongues laves over your nipple, hardening it into a stiff peak before sucking it between his lips. here closes his eyes and relishes in the feeling and the taste of your soft skin.
he keeps his tongue against your chest as he switches to the other side, repeating the action on that breast. he takes a second to press his head against your chest, right over your heart. he listens to your heartbeat, the one that he almost lost because of his actions. he turns his head and presses a kiss there. a silent vow. to never put you in harms way again.
he moves lower, laying himself between your legs. he takes a moment to rub his thumb over your scar. it’s just a light pink scrape now, made by a sharp but small rock. rafe kisses it as well. he would kiss every inch of your body if he wasn’t so drawn to between your legs.
he knows he should be more patient. more gentle, but when you spread your legs wider for him, he presses his tongue directly against your core, lapping up every drop of wetness that had gathered. you let out a moan at the sudden feeling, not expecting rafe to dive into your pussy that quickly.
“love this taste.” rafe mumbles before licking over your clit. hes going to take his role as a boyfriend even more seriously after what he put you through. give you every ounce of pleasure that he can, and even that won’t make up for what he did. not in his mind. he will be forever trying to apologize.
“rafe, oh my god.” you moan as he sucks on your clit like it’s his favorite candy before flicking his tongue over it. it’s been so long since you’ve had any action that you know you’re bound to cum too soon, but you have plenty of time to go at it over and over again with rafe now that you’re home.
rafe presses a finger against your entrance, not wanting your hole to feel left out as he pays special attention to your clit. he looks up at you for permission, and you give him a quick nod.
rafe takes your clit back in his mouth as he begins to press in, feeling your tight warmth envelop his digit. he keeps it still inside of you for a moment, not sure how much extra attention and time you will need before taking his cock. you haven’t gone a week without sex since you started dating, it’s certainly different now and he doesn’t want to accidentally put you through any pain.
he waits until your body relaxes completely before he starts to pump his finger inside and out. in an effort to not overwhelm you, he gives your clit a kiss and then turns his attention to your thighs, giving them some love as well. you appreciate the break in the stimulation, knowing you would have cum far too quickly for your liking.
“hows it feel? we can stop.” rafe asks, checking in on you.
“no, don’t stop.” you say, gripping the bed sheets. “add a second finger, please.”
rafe smirks, loving that you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. he is careful about adding a second finger, letting the thumb of his other hand rub over your clit ever so slightly as he does so, that way you stay relaxed.
when he finally gets both fingers pumping inside of you, he can’t resist the urge anymore, licking around his fingers to collect as much of your slick as he can on your tongue. he wasn’t kidding when he said he loves your taste.
“raaafe.” you moan, having resisted the urge to direct him to what you want, but you can’t anymore, taking his head in your hands and guiding his mouth to your clit. you feel rafe smirk against you for the briefest moment before his mouth parts and sucks your bud in between his lips.
you close your eyes, as much as you want to enjoy the sight between your legs, you’re simply in too much pleasure. rafe keeps his sucking soft at first, but he intensifies quickly, needing to be inside of you.
“close!” you warn rafe. it’s all you can do before he has you cumming, hips lifting off the bed as your body shakes, muscles tightening as he continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm. stars shine in your eyes as you blink them open, looking down as rafe gives your clit a few more kitten licks.
“are you ready for me?” rafe asks. you wanted to ride him originally, but your body is so blissed out you know you’re not capable of it.
“ready, rafe.” you say with a nod. he drapes himself over your body, sliding his cock over your soaked pussy, coating himself in your juices.
“shh.” rafe tells you when you let out a whine, wanting him to hurry up. “be patient pretty baby.”
fuck patience, you think to yourself, reaching down and taking rafes thick cock in your hand, pressing the head against your entrance. he takes over from there, your hand dropping away as he presses inside of you. you moan at the feeling of pure togetherness. rafe lets out a deep moan as he pushes all the way in.
“just… hang on for a sec, babe.” rafe says, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he controls his sudden urge to immediately cum, but he knows he has to give you your pleasure first.
you accept rafes kiss when he bends down to connect your lip, letting out a sudden moan when he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace.
“fuck, yes, yes.” you cry out. you grip onto rafes shoulders, hoping you don’t hurt him as you squeeze tightly, needing to hold onto him as his hips press into yours.
rafe lets out a series of moans as you tighten your pussy around him. you’re so sensitive, the way he is hitting your clit with every thrust.
rafe presses his lips to your neck, more using it as a block for his constant moans than to actually kiss it. you close your eyes, relaxing into the feeling, the feeling of being joined together with rafe, of seeking pleasure in each others bodies.
“gonna take care of you babygirl.” rafe says, and you know he means more than just bring you to your orgasm.
“never gonna hurt you ever again.” the intensity of his thrusts increase, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“never gonna let anyone else hurt you ever again.” he gives your neck a nip with his teeth. “you’re mine.” a hard thrust. “you’re mine to protect.”
he brings his head up so he can connect your lips together, letting all of his passion and frustration out in your kiss. “you’re mine to love.”
“i love you, rafey.” you tell him. you never want to stop telling him.
“i love you, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist as his thrusts increase, pressing so deep and hard into your body that you feel like you’re splitting open.
you drop a hand to rub at your clit when you feel his cock start to pulse, signaling that he’s close.
“cum in me.” you ask rafe. you haven’t been able to take your birth control, but you’ll have him run out and get you a plan b in the morning. you need to feel him fill you up.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, face straining and veins popping as he holds back his quickly incoming orgasm until you give a nod of approval. rafe explodes in a burst, letting out loud moans and grunts as he rocks his hips into yours. the second you feel his warm cum, you also cum, fingers rubbing aggressively over your clit as it pulses, sending shocks of pleasure over your body.
you come down from your orgasm together, rafe slowing his hips and the eventually pulling out, smiling as he watches his cum start to drip out of your pussy, but he cleans it with a towel on your bedside table before it can get the sheets anymore dirty.
“want me to clean you up?” rafe asks as you stretch, knowing you need to go pee.
“i can do it.” you kiss rafe gently before heading into the bathroom. once you’ve taken care of your business you head back out, giggling at rafe already having his eyes closed and head against the pillow. you pull on your christmas pajamas before laying down next to him.
rafe tugs you tight to his body, letting you rest your head against his chest. “i love you rafe.” you tilt your head so you can kiss his bare skin. “thank you for getting me home.”
“i love you more, princess.”
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