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rebelliousstories · 8 months

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The Secret to a Good Relationship

Relationship: David Loki x Reader

Fandom: Prisoners

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 1,564

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: Everyone always says that the secret to a good relationship is communication. Now to see if you can teach an old dog new tricks.

This case was something different. Child cases were always the toughest for law enforcement and Loki took everything to heart. He made it his life’s work to find these children and bring them home safely. He made sure to be there for them when no one else was. however in devoting his entire life and being into these cases, other aspects fall short. Eating, sleeping, even relationships.

Dating was tough in general. Learning how to cohabitate with another person, love them unconditionally, and build a life together; it was a lot of work. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth the effort, but it sure was a lot. Dating anyone in law enforcement was even more difficult. The long and ever changing schedule, the toll of the work on their lives, but they made it work. At the end of the day, they always made it work.

But when you’re going on week two of interrogations, interviews, and patrols, it makes it very difficult to keep up with things that aren’t necessary for survival. David slips out of bed early in the morning, well before the sun has thought about waking up, to get ready for the day. He’s not chronically addicted to coffee like his colleagues but his second cup comes around lunch if he’s just doing paperwork for the day. By the time he’s “done” for the day, i.e. the captain told him to go home, he was itching for his third cup of coffee of the day. But he held off until he went home, deciding then if he wanted another one.

Then it was straight to the shower, then the bed, hoping he’d actually be able to sleep. David was lucky if he got a couple hours during these cases. Endless facts, theories, evidence, and crime scene photos playing on an endless loop in his head. It plagued his waking hours, and infected his dreams, if you could even call them that.

But nothing drained him more than being away from her. His rock. His shelter from the storm in his work and head. His partner. Cases like this required all of his attention, meaning he didn’t have the self preservation skills like eating in his head, much less keeping up with his girl. But he tried, in some way. Holding her when she was already fast asleep when he finally dragged his body to bed. Kissing her forehead and slipping out so as to make sure she gets as much rest as possible. Even fixing her a cup of coffee just how she likes it, and keeping it in her favorite temperature controlled tumbler so it’s perfect when she does wake. Other than that? They hadn’t really spoken the past couple of weeks.

Another day. Another lead. Another interrogation. Another dead end. Loki threw himself into his work the second he arrived, desperately trying to finish this case. He knew he had the guilty man in custody, now it was a matter of proving it. But the evidence was all circumstantial. He’d never make it stick which left him feeling even worse than he had been. It had been a grueling fourteen hour day for him when he finally called it quits and came home. And there she was; waiting for him over the stove that smelled delicious. It was late for either one of them to be up and eating, but there was a routine. David made his way to the shower as he heard the sound of cooking coming from the kitchen. As he emerged, feeling better after the scalding shower, he watched as she plated their dinner.

“What are you doing up this late?” He questioned softly, watching the clock read 11:30. She shrugged and placed his plate down on his side of the table.

“Work ran late. I didn’t get home till ten.” David nodded, and tried to dig into his food. There was silence between them and it was anything but comfortable. He pushed his fork around his plate, but nothing actually made it to his lips. While his lover was quietly looking at her own plate and trying to get food in her stomach, Loki could not. His mind raced too much about the day he was trying desperately to forget.

“How was your day?” She asked in between mouthfuls of food. He quickly tried to place a bite in his to avoid answering, but he could not make his hand comply.

“Same old.” David answered quietly. His hand stilled at the side of his plate. The woman across the table from him noticed, and reached her hand across to rest on his but did not expect the reaction she got. David hand shot up as if he had been burned, and his plate was cast to the side, spilling the contents on the table and a little on the floor.

“I’m fine. Why does no one believe me when I say to listen to me?” He exclaimed, clenching the fork in his hand so tight his knuckled paled. Loki stormed off to their room in a flurry and shut the door loudly behind him, leaving his partner at the table, dumbfounded. She had never once seen him go off like that. He never liked to do it around her, preferring to keep that side of him far away from his lover. While David would never go into detail as to why, she had a sneaking feeling there was an abusive relationship he witnessed at a very young age that scarred him.

She took a deep breath in, and got to work. Waiting to see if any other noises sounded off from the bedroom, she worked to clean up the food from the floor and table. Placing the dishes in the sink with a little water in them, she figured that’s would be tomorrow’s task. Right now, she had a lover and detective to see. Again, listening for anything bing thrown or broken, all she was greeted with was silence. Silently pushing open the bedroom door, the sight broke her heart. David sat on the bed with red knuckles, disheveled hair, and the saddest expression she had seen on the man. A cautious step forward, but no response from the man in front of her. She sat on the bed, far enough away that she was not touching her partner, but close enough that she could if she wanted to. There was no response. No verbal acknowledgment. No visual cue. Nothing to indicate that he was even aware off her presence. That was, until, he began to lean over. Leaning closer and closer towards his lover until his head passed in front of her chest, and landed in her lap.

The angle was uncomfortable for him, but a quick readjustment ensured that he could have stayed there as long as he wanted. Almost as soon as he got settled, David felt his lover’s hands start to card through his hair and massage his scalp. No words were said as the lovers embraced each other.

“I’m sorry I lashed out.” A very quiet voice came from the man. It was uncharacteristically soft and fragile.

“I know.” A soft voice from above said plainly. Her hands did no cease there ministrations as the couple quietly conversed.

“Work has me so stressed lately and I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” No one interrupted the man on his speech. Just soft breaths and gentle hands.

“I wanna keep doing what I’m doing. I don’t wanna stop but its…” he tried to finish the sentence but no more words passed his lips.

“Do you want me to listen or give some advice?” She asked her lover that was in her lap. Two taps on her leg gave her all the answer she needed.

“First of all, the fact that you recognize the need for communication is important. I understand you are going to lash out from time to time, but always come back to me.’

“Secondly, you need a break. Not a day or two, but a true vacation. You haven’t had one ever and you need to relax a bit and get away from work. I know you don’t want to but if you keep going like this, you’ll put yourself in an early grave. And I can’t find anyone else like you, David Loki. So you can’t die on me.” She joked as she finished. She felt her lover crack a small, genuine smile at this and rolled over so he could see her face.

“How did I get so lucky?” He asked, mesmerized by the moonlight on her face.

“Because the universe knew you deserved someone nice.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forhead, which he relished in. Pulling him up, the couple quietly got ready for bed. Tucking themselves in their sides of the bed, Loki welcomed his lover into his arms as they laid there while he faintly registered the clock struck midnight.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered, tucking in a stray strand of hair.

“Yes you do.” She replied, just as softly. Meeting in the middle, the couple shared their final kiss for the day, and allowed themeselves to rest in the arms of their lover. Knowing that tomorrow, if it got too much, they would have someone reliable to come home to.

#rebelliousstories #writing #david loki imagine #david loki #david loki x reader #prisoners imagine #prisoners #prisoners fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Homemade Meals and Films | Detective Loki x m!reader

@areyouwaiting asked: well here I am

Det. Loki x male reader

“You’re not eating that shit, I’ll make you something decent” as a prompt because that bitch doesn’t eat right

Thanks <33

summary: Loki has shit eating habits, but you've finally got an excuse to change that.

tws: swearing, mentions of smoking

Admittedly, when he was working, Loki ate like shit. He also slept like it. Black coffee and occasional snacks throughout the day weren't exactly any good for him, neither were cigarettes and cans of Red Bull. Sure, he could have easily gotten something a little better, or at least filling, at any of the fast food and takeaway places that were around, as they were open for a good chunk of the day and they were nice and cheap, but Loki rarely ever went there; usually, he found himself sat in the same cafe drinking the same shit as always. He never ate properly, never drank properly, he never slept properly; every day, he would come home to you in the exact same state. Hungry. Tired. Looking like a bag of shit that had been dragged through a bush backwards. In all the years you had known him, and in all the years since that you had been dating, you had always wanted to change that; you wanted to make sure that he was properly fed, that he wasn't just drinking black coffee and that he was actually getting some fucking sleep, but you had never gotten the chance.

Until tonight. Until he came home at quarter past two in the morning, when the air was cold and the wind was howling and the rain was on tap, when the streets were quiet and the biggest worry you had was making sure that the television would pause before 'Train to Busan' started on the film channel. You made sure that you had everything set up just right; the bedding changed and still warm from the tumble dryer, the scent of leather coating the air in the room, the lights turned off except for the little lamp that sat in the corner, the duvet chucked on the sofa as the television froze when you pressed the pause button. The film would start in half an hour. Pots and pans on the stove as you decided that you would make the thing that would be best for him: a good strong curry. Thankfully you had enough spices and herbs that it would actually taste of something and that it would actually have a kick to it instead of that mild bullshit people often had. A good strong curry; filling, good for the body, and good for the mind.

Loki came home just as you were pulling the vegetables out, laying them in order beside the wooden chopping board; he didn't think much of it, draping himself across your back and kissing your neck sweetly as he grumbled so softly. "What are you doing?"

"I know you went to the café," you started, grabbing a peeled onion and starting to chop it up. "And you're not eating that shit, I'll make you something decent - I'm gonna make you a curry."

He smiled, nuzzling into the back of your neck as he closed his eyes and grumbled again, ever so faint and ever so soft; he could smell the spices already, making his stomach growl as he did his best not to complain about it. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, and he could feel the slight shiver from the winter air begin to creep its way up, making him clench his jaw. "What kinda curry?"

"It's a veggie Phaal," you told him. "It'll be good for you, trust me."

"How?"

"It's filling," you started, "so it'll fill your stomach more than black coffee and fucking snacks. It's balanced and nutritious... and it's good for the mind."

Loki grumbled again. "How?"

"It tastes good," you chuckled softly. "And stuff that tastes good is always good for the mind... but don't worry - there's a horror film on tonight, so I figured, y'know, we could snuggle down after eating. Watch it together. I brought the duvet down, too."

He couldn't stop the smile that came to him as he turned around and looked at the sofa; the thick duvet smothering it, the frozen television screen, he recognised the lumps of pillows beneath the duvet, too. "Thank you."

"It's not a big deal," you scoffed. "I mean, I'm your boyfriend - isn't it part of the territory that I gotta look after you?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then go sit down," you told him gently. "Get yourself comfortable, and we'll eat, watch a film, and then go to bed."

All Loki could do was nod as he dared to pull away from you, thinking to himself how lucky he was that he had such a caring boyfriend as he got himself comfortable amongst the duvet and the pillows; maybe one day, there would be a canopy in your future. Maybe one day, there would be a glass to step on. Maybe. If you put up with him long enough.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #really fancy a phaal curry now ngl #detective loki x you #detective loki x reader #detective loki imagine #detective loki oneshot #detective loki #prisoners 2013 #prisoners imagine #prisoners movie #prisoners film #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal

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majunju · 7 months

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life at the fortress has become incredibly stimulating

#genshin impact #my art #imagine being trapped inside a lift with a fellow prisoner and the duke nd u dont know where 2 look

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tojipie · 1 year

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prison bf series linked here !

content: violence, injury, blood, incarceration

˚ ✧ ───────────

prison bf ! toji who beats the shit out of other inmates to have more time on the commissary phone with you, pocketing loose change from his bunkmates to use on your weekly calls.

“this is an automated message from the tokyo prefecture rehabilitative penitentiary, to accept, pres—“

“hey pretty girl.” the bass of his voice sends a tremor up the length of your spine. you can already picture his bulky form leaning up against the brick walls of the prison mess hall.

“hi toji.” you giggle, swinging your legs behind you with glee. “did you get my package?”

“course i got your package.” he laughs, slipping a hand into his pocket to fiddle with the trio of polaroids you’d slipped into the letter. “guards gave me a ton of shit for it though.”

“aww i’m sorry.” you mumble, feeling guilty for the trouble.

“nah, don’t worry about it baby.” he laughs, shifting to looking through the candids you sent of your sweet smile.

“did you end u—”

“wrap it up fushiguro i need to call my fucking lawyer!”

the crunch you hear through the receiver is nothing short of sickening. it’s a while before the older man brings the phone back to his mouth, mumbling incoherently to himself.

“—blood on my fucking hands… hello?”

“i’m here toji.” you say, listening intently to the sound of shrill guard whistles blowing in the background. “do you have to go?”

“you know how it is babydoll.” he says apologetically. you cant help but squeeze your thighs together at how soft he can be with you, even with blood splattered across his knuckles and a room full of men who fear him.

“you’ll visit me this week right?” he asks, wiping his hands on the front of his wifebeater.

“mhm, i’m driving up tomorrow! you want me to bring you anything special?”

“you uhh, still got those chips i like at home?”

“you know i do.”

“that’s my girl.” he laughs, hanging the phone back up on the hook.

#prison bf! toji #prison bf!toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji hcs #toji headcanons #toji x reader #toji zenin #jjk fushiguro #jjk #jjk toji #toji #toji fic #toji imagine

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batpham-kills · 2 days

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Something's... Off about the Fentons and their son's friends.

They seem to have been the last people to see Vladimir Masters, owner of DalvCo, and know of his whereabouts, yet refuse to reveal him or his location. They also seem to be taking full advantage of his absence, taking over his company and profiting from it and living in his castle in Wisconsin.

They always seem to have some kind of excuse as to why he's not around.

"He's on vacation! Oh, where? Um, Antarctica."

"You just missed him, actually. He was here a few minutes ago. Yeah, in this random dirty alley as I was being mugged. We discussed... Alleys."

"Yeah, he lives here. I know his room is super dusty. He just likes it like that."

Although Tim Drake sees the absence of Vlad Masters as an absolute win (Tucker Foley is much less creepy), he still sees that this requires an investigation. After all, a missing CEO is big news, especially when the last people to have seen him seemed to have had major beef with him. Could they have... Murdered him?

Or: Vlad's taken a nice little trip to ghost prison. The Batfam think Vlad's disappearance was a result of the Fenton family murdering him.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc prompt #dp x dc crossover #Jazz lives in his mansion to go to college and take care of the ghost portal #Someone needs to maintain it if they dont want a nuclear meltdown #I can imagine someone slipping up and saying Vlad is in ghost prison and the batfam think its a really weird way of saying hes dead

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solmesia · 8 months

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sex is nice and all but have you considered just laying there... holding your vampire lover... and talking about the first time you broke your oath...........

#you can imagine the dialogue im not good with words #my art #astarion x tav #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanart #but for anyone interested the first time i broke my oath was opening the prison cell in the Grove AFTER the tieflings left #there was a dead fucking goblin in there #im oath of vengeance i fucking know im supposed to punish sinners but larian this is stupid #what is the worst that can happen is that goblin's fucking ghost gonna go commit crime #paladins are so fucking fickle kdmhfgh

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suiana · 4 months

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(yandere! prison warden x gn! inmate reader) (FYI idk how the law works ok so DON'T come after my ass) (im the type of lawyer that gets ur sentence increased instead of decreased fr💀💀)

"can i kiss you?"

"dude, i literally threatened to kill you."

"so?"

he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting slightly as he leans against the bars of your prison cell. you choose to ignore him, instead opting to play with the plastic fork from your lunch tray.

damn it, you should've known better than to be caught. now you're stuck in this lame ass prison with this warden you don't even like.

curse that stupid lawyer who got your sentenced increased from fifty years to life imprisonment. dude sucked at his job and still got paid 💀

for some context, you were in prison for tax evasion, fraud, and multiple cyber crimes you shall not name. you got caught by accident and now you were here. sentenced to life imprisonment in jail. in a private cell.

you know, it isn't even half that bad as compared to some other crimes others have committed! so you haven't a slightest clue as to why you were placed in a private cell with no one to keep you company!

i mean, you did try befriending your warden but he turned out to be delusional and turned out to be one of the people you scammed. love-scammed, to be specific. which is why he might've been delusional...

"baby why'd you have to leave me? i was so sad..."

see? this is what you mean! he seriously didn't get the hint that he was scammed! even when you told him straight to his face that you never did actually love him!

god damn it. now you have to hear his yapping 24/7. you're starting to think that he might've been the one to report you. i mean, isn't it a little too convenient? he's a prison warden, you've got a private cell-

"hey! are you seriously not paying attention to me?!"

he hits the prison bars lightly to attract your attention. thankfully, it did. or else he might've thrown another tantrum. and you did not have the mental capacity to handle it. come on! if he did it would've been his third tantrum of the week! and it's only monday!

you cock your head at him, rolling your eyes as you acknowledge his presence. your annoying prison warden instantly lights up at the small gesture. oh well, at least he's in love with you to the point where even you acknowledging him makes him happy...

"babe! you've gotta stop ignoring me! it makes me sad..."

"i don't actually care."

"baby!"

damn it, maybe you should've just bribed the judge to let you have a death sentence instead.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #yandere prison warden #yandere prison warden x reader #gn reader #suiana brainrotting #suiana rambling

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cerisereids · 2 months

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when spencer reid first gets out of prison, he’s scarred. that much is obvious. he’s no longer the boy wonder the team knew before cat adams framed him, he’s cold, he’s reserved. you can’t blame him, not one bit, but you miss him. you miss seeing the light in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face. so maybe that’s why, one day after work, your body moves of its own volition. you approach spencer’s desk gently, where he’s still hunched over a case file, long after work hours. he sees you, you can tell by the way he allows his eyes to shut. your heart warms at the way he still trusts you, enough to let his guard down after spending time in a maximum security prison. that’s why you bring your hand up to the nape of his neck, letting your nails scrape gently. you smile seeing the goosebumps erupt along his neck, his eyes now squeezing completely shut. you almost feel honored at the small gesture. the fact that, after everything, spencer still trusts you. it’s like when someone else’s dog chooses to sit with you, and you feel like the chosen one. you’re spencer’s chosen one, and the knowledge of that floods you with so much relief you could cry.

#i’m on s13 #i just want to comfort post prison reid #criminal minds #belle’s blurbs s.r.#spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 2 years

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i think it would be funny if people occasionally arose from the dead. like if that was a real-life one-in-a-million but well-documented Thing That Sometimes Happens, and the entire legal system around death (laws on inheritance & marriage & murder etc) had to include caveats for the unlikely-but-scientifically-possible event that the dead person in question might spontaneously self-resurrect, even years or decades after death. it would raise so many inconvenient and absurd possibilities

#imagine the legal system in that timeline #property laws and inheritance laws and bigamy laws--what happens if your spouse resurrects 10 years after they die?#think how AWKWARD that would be #what happens if you inherit from someone who comes back do you have to give the inheritance back? what if u used it to buy stuff?#does the jetski u bought with the money your grandpa left u 15 years ago in college now belong to grandpa?#or is there a statute of limitations?#if the guy you got convicted of murdering returns from the dead does your conviction get changed from murder to grievous harm?#how is the grievousness of the harm measured? in the number of years the guy spent as a corpse?#what if you spend 20 years in prison and the victim comes back to life and it turns out grievous harm would have landed you only 5ish years #do you get reimbursed for the extra 15 years u spent in prison?#what is the legal process for proving you have come back to life?#what are the minimum legal requirements for establishing a revenant's identity?#does it become regulation to make fingerprint/dental records of every single person who dies just on the off chance one of them comes back?#what happens if it's someone from like 300 years ago?#the world has changed and everyone they know is dead. is there a social services department that can help with that?#there would be a whole branch of counseling services for people who have reanimated or had a loved one reanimate #grief 2.0 counselors

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spaciebabie · 11 months

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papyrus does his taxes ☹☹☹☹☹

#undertale #let papyrus say fuck #letpapyrussayfuck #papyrus undertale #papyrus #WHYYYY IS HE SO HARD TA DRAW IM GONNA DIE #this was so much funnier in my head #oh well. cant be on my a game 100% of the time #have a good day im gonna go chill THE SUN IS ON MY SCREEN FFS #when he does his taxes he really lets loose he says everysingle curseword he can imagine b/c that shit sucks so fucking bad #the great papyrus wont survive in prison tho so he does his absolute best #spacie scribbles

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the-crooked-library · 2 months

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does anyone else think about Spike and Giles looking at each other and seeing a personification of the most despised and vulnerable aspects of their own past or is it just me

#btvs #i'm so serious bc they're perfect foils especially when their relationships with buffy are to be considered #spike vs the ripper. rupert giles vs william pratt #they're the same. just the same. they just had an opposite and equal evolution and they can't imagine anyone doing it the other way #spike btvs #rupert giles #buffy summers #one knows exactly where unrestrained recklessness and hedonism lead and wants to steer her away from that #the other knows exactly what a prison societal expectations and repression can be and wants nothing more than for her to break free of them #i'm about to start gnawing bricks #buffy the vampire slayer

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rebelliousstories · 1 year

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Tall, Dark, and Handsome

Relationship: David Loki x Reader

Fandom: Prisoners

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Pinning, Mentions of Dark Themes including Death, Abuse, Horrible Childhoods, and Crimes Against Children

Word Count: 2,808

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: There were two things that David Loki knew to be true; 1. There was a mysterious cup of coffee on his table when ever he left the room. And 2. The woman he likes has no clue about his feelings.

There were certain universal truths. The sun would come up, only to be replaced by the moon. Humans needed air, water, and food to survive. And David Loki was a workaholic. He was in the prescient by 6:00 A.M. and often left by 6:00 P.M. if there was no case. If there was a case, he spent the night in a jail cell bed instead of going home. He poured his heart and soul into his work. The other universal truth that would happen like clockwork; a coffee would always be waiting on his desk shortly before he arrived at work.

Some days, it would be there right as he walked to his desk for the first time. Some days, it would be there shortly after he left his desk in the morning after dropping off his stuff. If he was sleeping overnight, a fresh cup was waiting for him patiently outside the cell. For just about as long as he had worked in the station, this had happened. It infuriated the man. For years, David had yet to find out who this person was, or why they left a cup of coffee for him first thing in the morning. While he really appreciated the gesture, he would have preferred if he was able to know the identity of the person. Surprisingly, being a detective didn’t help. He didn’t notice anyone staring at him for a long time, or frequenting his area of the department more than they had to.

Eight years this had tortured him. Eight years of a cup of coffee every day he worked. Thousands of cups of coffee over the last eight years, and he still had no clue who left them for him. Loki realized a while ago that his secret admirer would remain a secret forever it seems. Sure, he had his theories, but they were for the most part probably credible, except one that he viewed as outlandish.

Theory number one: Cheryl. She worked as a secretary, essentially. Doing the filing, paperwork, organizing media and press. She always made sure to tell everyone that she had to leave the police academy for personal reasons, otherwise she would have been in uniform. Her leaving had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was trying to sleep her way through the department to get passed through the academy. David always thought she was a decent worker, but she definitely was trying to not have to work super hard. Cheryl’s sights had been set on the detective since she set foot inside the department. Her advances used to be very brazen, until a few straight to the point shut downs turned her away from trying with Loki again. That didn’t stop the longing glances, and the rumors that she started to circulate. Rumors that they had in fact been together secretly but had to break it off. Most people just tuned her out; who would believe that David Loki would have the time for a partner?

One theory he hoped wasn’t true.

Theory number two: Jessie.

Jessie was a kind, older woman that looked after the prescient and its members. She brought in brownies, cookies, and food for the detectives and officers. David didn’t see much of her during his shift due to her work in the evidence room, but she was his only other legitimate theory. He could see her leaving the coffee on his desk, as she watched how he overworked himself. But there were definitely times that he had his normal coffee, and she had yet to show up for work or even work at all that day.

He wouldn’t mind that theory being true; sure as hell beats the first one. But that only left him with his last theory that he hoped was true, but was definitely not.

Theory number three: her. His crazy and outlandish theory, that he hoped was true but knew it wasn’t, was her. A quiet obsession with the woman had snuck up on him a few years ago. David never actively looked for a partner, being a workaholic and too concerned about doing his job than having a wife and kids. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want that life, but it never seemed to come up at an opportune moment. Either wrong person, or wrong place, but she made his mind want to work for that kind of life. All it took though was a few times of talking to each other, late into the evening, when they should have been home but instead were working on the same case. Loki didn’t like anyone else stepping in on his work, detective or officer. But, it just so happened that the captain had assigned them to work together on the case because of the sheer magnitude of it.

At first, Loki was vehemently opposed to the assignment, but so was she. They both thought they worked best alone, without a partner. As the case went on, they butted heads multiple times and even got in a screaming match with each other. But the next morning, she was waiting by his car with a cup of coffee before they were suppose to go out to do some recon. From that point forward, there was a sort of energy around the pair as they worked. There was more discussion about life outside of work, and their personal preferences. Many nights were spent at the Chinese restaurant pouring over theories about the case and suspects. It was one of those nights at the Chinese restaurant that Loki realized that something was changing between them.

“So what about this, what’s his name, Norman O’Shea? How do we feel about this guy? I mean he certainly has the rap sheet to lend itself to doing something like this.” Her question made David pause mid bite to think. He looked up to catch her eyes before looking back down to his food. Chewing over his food and thoughts, the man swallowed before responding.

“What’s he got on him? I thought he was the wrong physical type from eye witnesses? They said a grey haired man, no glasses, and a grey beard was near the kids when they noticed them gone. Not a glasses wearing, clean shaven, black haired creep.” Flipping through the folders, she stared at Loki with a ridiculous expression.

“Do you know how easy it is to dye your hair and have no traces of it anywhere? Especially if you have prep time and a space away from your main residence to do so? Besides we’ve got four different counts of child charges, including kidnapping a girl one time.” Both detectives took a break to eat as they thought about the information.

“He’s at least worth going and talking to.” Loki offered as they finished their dinners. She looked down at her almost finished plate of rice, and quietly chuckled to herself. The small chuckle made Loki’s lips quirk up into a somewhat smile while he let out an even smaller chuckle.

“What?” He asked quietly. Watching as she shook her head gently, her chuckle died and her smile turned sad.

“Nothing. Just…” she trailed off and let her eyes wander over the detective’s tattoos on his hands.

“Just, cases like this, you know? Just, they remind me of my sister. Makes me think of how proud she’d be that I’m trying to help other kids like us.” Her eyes glazed over, and David leaned closer to the woman across the table from him.

“Kids like you?” He repeated back to her. He watched as she was knocked out of whatever memory that she was trapped in. Her throat cleared, and she pushed her hair back.

“Yeah, kids like us.” She rolled up her sleeve to reveal the beautiful artwork adorning her arm. A spiraling network of flowers of all different kinds, attached to one branch spread all over her arm. It disappeared into the bicep and rest of her sleeve in one direction, and ending in a small bloom on her pinky finger in the other.

“My older sister and I were ten and five when we were orphaned. Drunk driver killed both of our parents. Well, we became wards of the state and were sent to a girls home nearby,” she noticed how Loki sat up straighter at the mention of a children’s home.

“For a few years everything was fine. But then funding got cut when we were about fourteen and nine, and the home started failing. They couldn’t keep good employees and everything was dirty. My sister and I, we-” she abruptly stopped, staring straight at the blossom on her pinky.

“When we were fifteen and ten, we were playing in the back of the home one day. We saw a few of the former employees pull up around the back where we were and they just had us. We trusted them. No one looked for us for three months. No one cared to. And the things we endured in the time between our capture to our rescue, it ended up killing my sister. She got an infection in one of the wounds on her leg. Two days later they finally found us, but it was too late for her. She died in my arms. When they got us, it had been almost a year to the day that we went missing.” Her hands started scratching at her own legs. Not scratching, picking. She was trying to pick at her skin through her jeans.

“Well that’s my sob story on why I became a detective. Sorry if I talk too much.” Her eyes adverted to the ground beside their table out of embarrassment. Loki didn’t know what to say after that. Having been through his own hardships, it was hard finding someone who understood why some people become the law. The law didn’t help either of them until it was too late; they kept themselves alive through hell. After having a moment of silence, Loki finally got his words back.

“I was at Huntington. The boys home.” She looked back up to now see David was staring at her, waiting for some sort of response.

“Huntington, huh? We were right next door at Doealair.” The two detectives started to chuckle, finding common ground in their childhoods.

“Here’s to messed up youth.” He raised his coffee cup in the air.

“To messed up youth.” She mirrored him and clinked their cups together.

From that night on, the two detectives became close. It was the closest thing that either one of them had to a friend in years. They would often get dinner together when time would allow, and they were the only one that the other would accept help from on cases. But it wasn’t enough that David thought he had a chance with her.

Sure, he looked out for the woman. He made sure that if she needed to take a break, he would usher her into a cell to sleep while he took on the paperwork. On a couple of occasions, he had driven her home because she was too tired to drive safely. David would ask for her opinions on cases when he was stuck, an implied ask for help was always there. He never voiced it aloud, but he cared for her more than he probably should. And it seemed that maybe she did too. She brought him food on long nights, and asked for his advice on cases. Generally, she held the same attitude towards the captain that he did: respect with a heaping cup of stay out of my investigation. She joined him in doing paperwork next to each other just so they would have a little bit of company. But it was still not enough to convince David that she was the culprit of the mysterious coffee.

Loki tossed and turned at night, always on edge. He never could get a full nights rest, which lent itself to the dark circles constantly around his eyes and his dependance on caffeine in the form of coffee. When he finally was able to pull himself out of bed, the drive to work took less time than normal. Which meant he was getting to work before he arrived, a full thirty minutes before he normally clocked in. Which meant, a full twenty minutes before she was suppose to be in. But when he got in, immediately, David was pulled into the captain’s office. For the entirety of his spare thirty minutes, he sat in there and listened to the man go on and on about the current case the detective was on. Nothing of importance was being said, just that he needed to wrap it up fast.

When Loki was finally released, it was time to get to work, which meant coffee. However, when he reached his desk, there was no coffee to be found. The man looked over at her desk, which had her stuff thrown haphazardly across, like she was in a rush. In any case, he made his way into the kitchen for his first of many cups of coffee, only to find a strange sight. There she was, making coffee. But another mug was next to her normal one; Loki’s normal mug was right next to hers. He watched from the threshold as she continued to make his coffee the same way he’d always drank it, no milk and two sugars. When she had nothing in her hands that could burn her, David spoke up.

“Is that my coffee?” He asked, startling the woman in front of him. She turned around fast and grasped her chest in fright. Several deep breaths were taken in, and she slowly recovered.

“Jesus David. Warn a girl next time.” Turning back to the coffees, she kept her eyes away from him. He stepped closer to her and leaned against the counter.

“Is that my coffee?” His question was repeated once more. Her gaze fell everywhere except his own eyes. She finished stirring the sugar into his coffee and dropped the stir stick in the garbage.

“Yes.” She quietly admitted as she slid the cup over to the man carefully. Loki accepted it and took a sip. Just how he liked his coffee. They stood there in silence, taking small sips from their coffee and not speaking about the obvious tension now in the room.

“Have you even leaving me coffees this whole time?” There it was. The question that demanded an answer. There was no way for her to lie; he caught her in the act of making his coffee. No one else in this department would know that the man liked a little sugar in his coffee. Everyone probably assumed he took it straight up. And now, she had to answer for her actions. Suddenly, her face felt hot. She was starting to think that this is what people felt like getting interrogated.

“Yes.” Another simple response.

“Why?” The question sounded simple, but they both knew that the answer was going to be anything but.

“Because, you deserve nice things. Even if it is just a cup of coffee now and then.” Her eyes still were looking away, having found her shoes to be the most interesting thing in the world at that moment. But they quickly became Loki’s shoes that she focused on as they stepped closer.

“Well, I’d like to return the favor. Maybe you’ll let me treat you to dinner tonight?” She shot up like a rocket at his words. Having expected him to deny her affections, this was certainly a turn for the better. She never thought she’d live to see the day that David Loki, tattooed, reclusive, badass detective, would look shy. But he did. He looked nervous to hear her response.

“Are you asking me out, Loki?” Her teasing words made the man crack a somewhat smile. They both knew what she wanted; a clear and direct proposal for a date.

“Maybe I am. Would you go out with me tonight?” He asked, this time a surge of confidence ran through him.

“A cup of coffee for a date? Seems like a fair trade. I’d like to go out with you tonight, David.” A full smile broke out across both of their faces, and they allowed themselves to bask in the moment before they inevitably had to get back to work. Going back to work was more difficult than before. Both detectives had to school their expressions as to not raise suspicions. And they had to be careful on how many times they glanced over at one another. But neither one could shake the butterflies from their stomach the entire day. Yeah, a cup of coffee a day might just bring someone tall, dark and handsome your way.

Going back to work was more difficult than before. Both detectives had to school their expressions as to not raise suspicions. And they had to be careful on how many times they glanced over at one another. But neither one could shake the butterflies from their stomach the entire day. Yeah, a cup of coffee a day might just bring someone tall, dark and handsome your way.

#rebelliousstories #writing #prisoners 2013 #prisoners fanfiction #prisoners imagine #prisoners #david loki imagine #david loki #david loki x reader #detective loki x reader #detective loki imagine #detective loki #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Hurt | Detective Loki x m!reader

areyouwaiting asked: another one because why not

Det. Loki x male reader

"For fuck’s sake, I love you!" as a friends to lovers type of thing?

Danke mein Freund 😌

summary: Loki doesn't take very kindly to it when you meet up with an ex who didn't exactly treat you right.

tws: swearing, horror films

It was like a scorpion had found its way into his chest and had struck him right in the heart. The bite of a venomous snake that would strike every time he thought about it. You, hanging out with an ex who had caused you so much damage and who had hurt you so badly, all because they had told you that they still cared, that they wanted to be friends again. Loki couldn't fucking cope, when he saw that picture on his phone, plastered on social media, he was fucking pissed; as soon as his shift was over, he had marched over to your place, and had found you on the sofa, watching a horror film that had been banned in several countries due to the graphic nature of its content, a horror film so grotesque and so vile that the director had been pulled into court on allegations that he had actually killed members of his cast, he knew it was a good sign, and a little relief flooded through his veins.

He knew that if you were in a particularly bad mood, you would have been in bed watching it and snuggled into the duvet. He knew that if you were in a particularly good mood, you liked to sit on the sofa as you watched it. At least you weren't in a bad mood, he thought. At least there was that, and as he sat down beside you, he was pleasantly surprised that you leaned into him so keenly, grumbling softly as you pressed the side of your face against his arm and shifted around so that you weren't awkwardly bent over.

Loki found himself relaxing a little, his eyes slowly shutting as he let out a little yawn and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle as he let you hold his hand tightly; he wanted to ask, he wanted to ask what had happened, what they had said and what you had said. He wanted to interrogate you, but when he realised that that's what he wanted, he shook his head, and cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, smiling. "I don't know why I bothered, but hey, at least I got a free meal of it so it's not all that bad, really."

That wasn't what Loki was expecting in the slightest, his jaw clenching as he got a little more tense, brows furrowed as he frowned and uncrossed his ankles, shifting a little so that he was sat upright. "What do you mean you don't know why you bothered?"

"It's just..." you shrugged. "I mean, yeah, I wasn't a perfect boyfriend - but they kept saying the same fucking accusations."

"Which are?"

"That me and you are somehow a thing," you scoffed, but something in your voice told him that you weren't joking. "I mean, yeah, alright... you're hot, and you mean a lot to me, and sometimes I do wish I was your boyfriend... but we're not a thing, are we?"

He fell silent. Sure, he had wished time and time again that you were his, his boyfriend, his partner, he wished it would happen more times than he could or wanted to count, but he knew that it wouldn't work; Loki had hardly enough time to spend with you as it was, thanks to work constantly on his back about everything and anything, and he didn't want you to feel as if you were being neglected because of him. He didn't want to make you feel that way. Never. Not you. Loki could fucking abandon and neglect everyone else in his life, but not you. Not the best friend who he had come to realise that he had other feelings for.

He swallowed thickly. You called him hot. You found him attractive. He scratched the side of his nose. You said he meant a lot to you. You wished you were his boyfriend. You wanted to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe he wouldn't neglect and abandon you as much as he feared he would, maybe he wasn't going to hurt you and maybe he wasn't going to make you upset. Maybe things would be okay in the end after all. Maybe.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah," you breathed out. "Loki, for fuck's sake, I love you! You're my best friend, and I... I love you as my best friend, and always will, but I also love you... the other way. And I'd wanna give it a go."

"What if I hurt you?" He asked. "You know I don't have a lot of time to spare as it is."

"Then hurt me," you told him. "Hurt me as badly as you can. I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"It could ruin our friendship."

You moved to sit upright, glaring at him as you huffed and shook your head, daring to laugh softly. "Loki... nothing could ruin that - unless you tell me you suddenly hate Train to Busan, in which case, I'm not only disowning and abandoning you, I'm also gonna bully you."

Loki couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him at that, shaking his head fondly. "I love that film."

"So..." you cleared your throat. "Your day off is tomorrow - wanna go to the café for a date?"

"I'd rather stay here," Loki explained, "and I'd rather watch Train to Busan with you."

#mlem writes #detective loki #detective loki oneshot #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #detective loki x you #prisoners film #prisoners movie #prisoners imagine #prisoners 2013 #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you

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houseswife · 4 months

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bro can you imagine being tritter. you’re a power hungry cop who just wants to get revenge on the asshole doctor who humiliated you, so you approach his prescribing physician saying “here’s cold hard proof that he committed several crimes and endangered your career”. and instead of testifying against him in light of this information he’s like nooo he didn’t do anything wrong!! it was my fault actually that he committed felonies without my knowledge!! don’t take him away!! send me to prison instead!!! like. what do you even do with that

#can’t get over the car scene where tritter is like ‘you’ll go to prison if you don’t tell the truth about him’#and wilson just goes ‘better me than him’#and tritter just gets inscreasingly baffled by his commitment to being number 1 house defender #gay people bro 😭😭 outside perspective on that relationship goes crazy #house md #hilson #house/wilson #gregory house #james wilson #or like alternatively #can you imagine being julie wilson #and your husband comes home one day and he’s like I lost my job #and u ask why #and he says that house committed too many crimes and you refused to get him fired #my man was down bad 😭 stand by your mannn and show the world you love him

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tojipie · 6 months

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welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago.

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk.

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder.

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his.

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper.

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face.

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt.

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear.

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really.

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view.

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes.

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity.

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change.

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look.

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside.

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight.

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later.

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away.

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade.

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car.

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles.

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years.

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care.

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?”

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base.

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him.

˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather.

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were.

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it.

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure.

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?”

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there.

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

taglist ! 🏷️

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royalarchivist · 3 months

Text

Pac: Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok? See you on the other side, big boy.

Fit: [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. [Fit tries to lasso Pac] You're coming with me.

Pac: No, I need to leave!

Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!

Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?

Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?

Ironmouse: You guys, we don't have time to be gay right now.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

Pac: I'm just here to say goodbye to you, Fit.

Fit: Goodbye? We're not– we're gonna be fine, we're going to get out of here, don't worry.

Aypierre: Yeah, don't worry!

Pac: I know, but like– I will sleep until the end, you know? I will pass through this moment sleeping, man. I won't be able to be awake for the moment.

Fit: [Laughs] You know, it's– I mean, if that's how you wanna go, but– I mean, that- I mean, isn't that bed kind of like.... I don't know, it's–

Pac: No no, I will be staying on the sofa, you know, I will be staying on the sofa.

Fit: Oh the sofa. Ok, that's a nice sofa! Yeah, that is a pretty nice sofa.

Pac: Yeah, it's a nice sofa right? No, yeah– I'm going to stay on the sofa, you know? So, since I will be going Fit... [Pac starts tossing Fit all his items]

Aypierre: [Not paying attention to their conversation] Is that bigger cell? I don't think it's a bigger- biggest one.

Fit: Oh... Thank you Pac, thank you.

Pac: Everything you need to survive, ok?

Fit: Wow.

Aypierre: Wow.

Pac: And if you need this one also, maybe, who knows? [Throws him more items]

Fit: Ohhh, well hey– just take this to remember me by, ok? [Tosses him a photo of himself – the same one Aypierre was carrying all day yesterday]

Pac: [Laughs] Ok, I will sleep holding the picture you know, like this. You know, I will dream about you, Fit. And I hope this is gonna be good dreams. I see you in the other side. Good luck, my friend.

Fit: The other side... Yeah, you know, yeah, we– we– you know? It's been an honor, Pac. It's been an honor, you know?

Pac: Yeah, for me too, you know? Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok?

Fit: Ok.

Pac: See you on the other side, big boy.

Fit: I will sing your praise– Oh yeah, hey– [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. You're coming with me.

Pac: No, I need to leave!

Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!

Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Fit: Sorry, there's–

Pac: I'm sorry!

Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?

Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?

Ironmouse: You guys, you guys– we don't have time to be gay right now, come on. There's no time.

Pac: No, there's no time! Oh, goodbye Fit...

Fit: Ok, c'mon, no no no, come on, we got this we got this!

Pac: Goodbye Fit, I'm sorry!

Fit: [Laughs] Oh no...

#Pactw #FitMC #Hideduo #FitPac #QSMP #QSMP Prison #January 22 2024 #So canonically how do you guys view this moment?#Did Pac just canonically conk out from stress?#Did he take sleeping pills on purpose to sleep through whatever awful thing was inevitably going to happen?#Curious to hear what other people think #I like to imagine the stress finally got to him #He spent the entire time trying to mirror things he saw Cell doing #and finally cried about it to Bagi #I can't blame him if he wants to sleep through the rest of it. Man's living in a place that's actively making him relive past trauma #Fit says he's carrying Pac in his backpack but I like to imagine that he just gave Pac a piggy back ride the entire way home :D #I imagined that for Purgatory too #it's cute #idk the whole idea of very traumatized characters being so comfortable around certain people #Idk the idea Pac feeling so safe around Fit #(despite being in a place that is actively stressing him out)#that he feels alright falling asleep and trusting him / Mike to protect him is sweet to me #Idk man I'm a big fan of the ''literal sleeping together'' trope #I love when characters take naps together it's so cute #esp when it's two traumatized characters with a lot of baggage / trust issues #It's nice #anyways I got way off topic with these tags LMAO sorry #I was gonna edit this down but I like the entire conversation so I'm leaving it as is #The YouTube editor living in my brain: Not great for viewer retension #Me: Shhhhhhhh I'm an Archivist. I can do whatever I want.

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