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#Got tired with these so I rushed them a bit
luminiamore · 3 days
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plug connie springer x black stripper reader
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warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding
a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)
can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)
one down, like five more to goooo
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The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.
It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.
You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.
You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.
Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.
It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.
Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.
‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’
‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’
The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.
Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.
Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.
You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.
When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.
You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.
Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!
Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.
You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 
Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.
He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.
A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.
Wait. Is that-
That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.
You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,
“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”
A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,
“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”
Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,
“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”
Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.
He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.
‘What kind of position are you looking for?’
‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’
He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.
“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”
Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...
Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...
“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”
And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.
The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.
You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.
And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.
Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.
Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?
You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?
He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.
“Hell no.”
Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.
Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.
His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.
Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.
You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.
At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.
Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.
And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.
And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.
It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.
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One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?
You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.
“Coming!”
You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.
It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.
Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.
“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.
He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,
“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.
He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.
He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.
He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.
Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”
He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.
This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.
He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.
You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.
You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.
You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”
It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.
“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.
Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.
Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.
“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.
Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.
It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.
Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,
“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.
He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.
What do you taste like?
Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”
Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.
“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.
“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”
Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.
“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”
Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.
“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”
Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.
He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”
You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.
Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”
You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,
“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”
He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.
He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.
He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,
“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”
Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”
Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.
As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.
His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.
Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.
“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”
Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.
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@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾
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blarshwritezz · 10 hours
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Yandere psychopath boyfriend x male reader. You discover that your boyfriend killed people and try to leave the forest where he lived, but you end up being caught by him. He decides to punish you through the bed with rough sex and overstimulation
I fw this
Yandere Psychopath bf x Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, murder, noncon
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Your boyfriend has always been...strange, but you never expected this. You thought he just liked nature, and that was why he lived in a cabin in the woods. You thought he liked the peace, like you did. That he just enjoyed growing his garden and living practically entirely off the grid. The seclusion...that was a better way to put it.
You couldn't look at him the same since you saw it. Since you saw him killing someone in cold blood. He had the nerve to act so lovingly to you when he did something like that.
You couldn't get it out of your mind. The way that poor man's blood covered him, the pool of red standing the grass and seeping into the dirt. The way he chopped up his victim and stuffed the bits into a bag. The bag he used for his fertilizer.
You clearly weren't safe. You had to leave.
One night, while he was asleep, you snuck out and ran. You ran like your life depended on it. Because it did.
You didn't make it far. A trap. He had traps set up all over the place. A large net caught you, forcing you off the ground. You struggled to get out, but your adrenaline eventually wore off.
You didn't know how long it was until he came along, holding a bloody knife. "Aw, darling, were you trying to get out? I guess that means you know my nasty little secret, huh?"
He cut you out of the net, not giving you a second to even try running before he grabbed you by the scalp and dragged you back, kicking and screaming. "You should know you aren't allowed to run. I'm gonna have to punish you now."
Getting back to the cabin, he forced you upstairs and threw you on the bed. Before you could scramble to get away, he once again grabbed your scalp and forced you to kiss him, shoving his tongue down your throat.
His free hand, still holding the knife he had, cut your clothes off. He finally discarded the knife and started to roughly jerk you off.
He only broke the kiss when you were practically suffocating. "You think you can run away from me, huh? Think you can just leave?" He roughly bit into your shoulder, licking up the blood he drew. "No, I don't think so. You're mine. All fucking mine."
Letting go of your head, he shoved two of his fingers down your throat. "Suck."
When he was satisfied, or tired of it, he yanked out his fingers, only to suddenly shove them deep inside your hole. He stretched you wide, getting your insides nice and wet before suddenly replacing his fingers with his cock.
He didn't waste a second to start pounding into you like a wild beast. He bit you more, leaving bleeding marks all across your shoulders, neck, collarbone, and chest.
"Thought you could get away with trying to leave me, huh?" A harsh smack echoed through the room as he spanked you. "Think you're too good for me or something?" And another. "You're mine." Another. "And I'm going to fuck it into you until you can't even walk out of this room."
He continued to thrust into you, hitting against that special spot harder and harder. He didn't stop, not for a second.
Even when you came, the first time of many that night, he only got rougher.
He didn't give a second of rest, and he wasn't going to. Not until he made you a moaning, sobbing, drooling mess begging for his forgiveness. Then he'd go back to the loving and gentle boyfriend you knew. But only once he was sure you understood not to leave him.
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I feel like the end was a bit rushed tbh
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grimm-writings · 16 hours
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can i request chilchuck making reader their favorite dish when they get back to the surface? like inviting them over for dinner to try and confess properly :3
the secret ingredient
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, post-canon, senshi being wise
…wc! 949
…notes! this is so cute… what da hell… enjoy your meal 🥺 
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“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”
The half-foot is running around the kitchen of his home like a headless chicken, which is coincidentally what he’s holding over his head rushing from the oven to the hob, and back to see if things are stable.
The one who remains perfectly calm and still, stirring a little pot of gravy is Senshi, glancing to look over at Chilchuck trying to stir some vegetables.
“...You forgot the–”
“I know I forgot the salt!”
With clear agitation, Chilchuck shrilly screams the words back at Senshi as he scavenges the cabinets around him for the salt.  Senshi already showed disdain for how disorganised Chilchuck’s kitchen is.  At the time, he had simply dismissed it, but now it’s biting back when he clearly doesn’t know where things go and how they got there.
Chilchuck tries not to overflow the vegetables with salt as he mutters to himself.  “They’ll be here in an hour, we don’t have an hour to fix all this up – Senshi can you hurry the gravy up?!”
Giving his friend a sidelong glance, Senshi keeps stirring, as gravy shouldn’t be left alone.  “No can do, Chilchuck.  This takes time.”
“We don’t have—”
“Were you not prepping this all beforehand?”  Senshi looks around at the already made meals.  “I love food myself, but… this might be a bit…”
Chilchuck’s glare once Senshi turns back at him could kill.  “What?  Much?  You think it’s ‘a bit much’?”  He throws his hands in the air.  “They deserve the best meal I can make for them!  Aren’t you always talking about the best way to bond is through food?”
“Well, yes, but–”
“Listen, Senshi,” Chilchuck slaps his hands down on Senshi’s shoulder.  “This…  This needs to be perfect.  I can’t go and confess to them if it isn’t.”
The dwarf takes in Chilchuck’s worries, before pointing behind him.  “The chicken is–”
“SHIT, THE CHICKEN IS READY!” 
Senshi turns down the heat of his part of the hob as Chilchuck runs off, and begins pouring the gravy into a jug.  “I thought you’d know more than anyone that quality should be favoured over quantity,” he muses.
Chilchuck, upon retrieving the chicken from the oven, grumbles incoherently.  He sighs.  “I guess I don’t want to disappoint them…”
“I’m sure they’d love even just one portion of their favourite meal with you,” Senshi advises, patting Chilchuck’s shoulder.  “Even with all of this food, you’re missing the secret ingredient.”
With confusion etched into his features, Chilchuck looks at Senshi.  “What?”  He flatly responds.  Did he miss something?!
Senshi smiles – or rather Chilchuck learns that when his cheeks puff and his eyes close that he’s likely smiling – and chuckles slightly.
“Love, o’ course.”
Chilchuck looks like he is losing brain cells in real time.  “Love,” he repeats, in slight disbelief.
“Yep.”
“Love.”
“That’s it!”  Senshi takes a step back.  “Do ya happen to know their favourite dish?”
Chilchuck can’t believe he’s about to learn some moral about love at a time like this.  “...Yeah, why?”
“Let’s scrap all this.  I can hand them all out to families around the place,” Senshi graciously offers.  “Instead, make a two-portion meal, their favourite, for your dinner.  And sprinkle in some love.”
The wink Senshi gives him results in Chilchuck’s skin going hot in embarrassment.  Really?  That’s his suggestion?
“I wanna impress them,” he says, quieter.
“I know ya do, but you can’t do that rushing around doing the bare minimum of cooking.”
The silence of the kitchen fills Chilchuck’s ears, and suddenly he’s aware of the heat of the room, how sweaty he is, and how tired he feels.
He really has been going overboard from stress, huh?
The half-foot takes a deep breath, grounding himself in this reality again and meekly nods.  “Yeah.  Fine.  You can give all these meals away to the townsfolk.
Together, the dwarf and half-foot put the meals in appropriate containers and bags.  Right before Senshi was about to leave, Chilchuck stops him.
“Hm?”  Senshi turns as his attention is grabbed.  He knows Chilchuck isn’t the best with his feelings by now, but as his friend, he feels it’s his duty to at least help him.
The half-foot doesn’t look him in the eye when he says, “thank you,” cheeks flushed.
Senshi perks up at Chilchuck’s gratitude.  “Not a problem,” he returns, leaving the home.
Now alone, Chilchuck checks the time.  You’ll be arriving in 45 minutes.
…Sure, he can make one meal by the time you show up.  With his secret ingredient he can.
It takes a strenuous amount of precision on Chilchuck’s part, but with his line of work there’s nothing that he can’t do. His love is poured into the meal, from how he stirs the mix from how he gently places a little stick of parsley on the top.
‘Tis finished, the little Senshi in Chlichuck’s head heaves a sigh of relief.
Right on time too, considering the knock on the door.  Chilchuck wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead and rushes to welcome you in, before noting he needs to get dressed into something nicer.
When he comes back, you smile that wonderful grin.  “Thank you for making dinner for us, Chil.”
His secret ingredient shines through for you, from how he presents the meal to how he returns your smile, the lines under his eyes crinkling.  “Really, the honour is all mine.”
He offers his hand out to you, and you accept.  Even if you’re somewhat surprised, Chilchuck has always been quite a gentleman around you.
Chilchuck thinks that, maybe, he is able to confess with just his confidence and love alone.  There’s no need for frivolities.
Just one secret ingredient seals the deal.
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marypaol · 1 day
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Astonishment
Gaang x fem!Reader
Summary: The Gaang is on the way to the Earth Kingdom where they meet an Earth Bender, and they can’t help but be amazed at her abilities.
Warnings: Nothing I’m mindful of! Let me know if y’all find anything.
Note: Thanks for requesting @fqshionkilla! This request was quite interesting and wonderful! I had so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it. (I may have added a little Aang x reader but just a little bit I couldn’t help it.)
Also this isn’t based on a specific part in the show, I just made it up lol.
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“We have to keep moving.” Katara encouraged, watching as her brother fell to the ground from exhaustion for what seemed the hundredth time in the past hour. Momo was sitting on his shoulders, wide eyes looking at the boy as his tail wagged with confusion. That was most likely Momo’s way of saying “Seriously, what’s wrong with this guy?”
Toph groaned from the rock she decided to sit on, and Aang slipped from the tree his back was leaning against at the sudden noise, but he quickly regained his posture.
“‘Keep moving’?!” Toph repeated, faded eyes widening in disbelief. “I’m dying out here!”
Katara crossed her arms, the map in one of her hands as her eyes scanned her tired friends.
“I know you guys are tired, but we have to keep walking if we want to get to the Earth Kingdom. Aang, do you think Appa is rested enough for us to fly again?”
Aang was in the middle of rubbing the sleepiness out of his eye, and his hand stopped when he was addressed.
“Sorry, Katara,” he started, “but Appa was carrying us for two hours; not to mention him walking behind us this whole time. He’s tired.”
Katara looked bumped out that they couldn’t move on, but she sighed after a moment of thinking. “I guess so, I just want to get there in time.”
“What’s the rush?” Sokka intervened, rubbing the sweat off his face with Momo’s ear, despite the animal’s objections. “It’s not like something major’s going on.”
“Right Sokka. It’s not like a war has been going on for one hundred years!” Katara injected sarcastically, her already crossed arms tightening as a way to cross them for a second time.
Aang sighed. “Although you’re right Katara, Sokka’s also right. We’re not really in a hurry to get to the Earth Kingdom. I think we should make camp. Rest for a night.”
Katara, basically the mother of the group, had trouble being convinced, but the three of them including Appa and Momo already decided on staying the night, their bodies visibly relaxing at the thought of finally being able to rest.
“I suppose we can rest.” She allowed, but none of them seemed to hear her, for they already knew the decision was made before it was spoken.
So the team made camp, Toph creating a rock tent for her to sleep in, four thick walls surrounding her tiny body that was totally fight proof, while Sokka, Katara, and Aang planned to sleep in sleeping bags.
Sokka reluctantly gathered fire wood and spent five minutes rubbing two sticks together before he realized he had matches on him.
Together they sat along the fire, satisfying cracks coming from the flames. All their eyes reflected the flames, fire dancing in their orbs.
“Too bad Aang doesn’t know Fire Bending yet; the fire would have been a lot easier to make.” Sokka commented, only trying to innocently start a conversation, only to get a harsh glare from the Avatar himself, making the boomerang guy sink his shoulders.
“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Just trying to fill the silence.”
“Well it’s definitely working.” Toph said sarcastically, making Aang and Katara stifle a laugh.
“How about we tell some stories?” Aang suggested, leaning against Appa’s white fur with a grin plastered on his face. “Anyone got something interesting?”
Toph shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint, Twinkle Toes, but I’ve got nothin’”
“Katara?” Aang asked, hope filling his eyes as he died for have something fun and wild to think about before he went to sleep.
She shook her head. “Unless you want to hear old Water Tribe legends.”
Sokka groaned, having heard them a thousand times from their Gran Gran. “No thank you.” He said, Momo’s ears covering his eyes as he laid on his stomach.
Toph blew some hair out of her face, the noise breaking the short couple of seconds of silence. “Sokka?” Aang hesitantly asked.
Sokka shrugged the best he could while laying down. “I’ve got nothing.”
Aang leaned back onto Appa, his excitement wearing off. He previously lept forward in hopes of hearing a suspenseful story, but leaned back once he got no response.
“Well, I guess that settles it. Let’s just go to sleep I guess.” Aang suggested, a slight frown on his lips out of disappointment.
“Sorry Aang, we tried.” Sokka said, getting up lazily and making his way to his sleeping bag. He yawned loudly, arms stretching up high but forgetting Momo was sitting on his shoulders, and the poor animal fell to the ground with a noise of protest, crawling over to Aang in hopes of comfort.
Aang petted the lemur’s head, blue arrow on his hand shining in the fire’s light. The boy yawned himself. “Goodnight, Momo.”
The lemur seemed to get the message, body curling up into a ball, tail wagging a couple times before it made home beside him. His wild unique eyes shut, slumber slowly taking over.
The whole team felt the wave of sleep come over them, all eyes shutting after a few yawns were heard.
Suddenly Toph bended the rocks around her to the ground, a loud cracking noise from the rocks doing so. A gasp was heard coming from her lips, her body standing up so her feet could feel-see-better.
“Guys!”
The urgent tone of her voice got everyone sitting up, Sokka rubbing the heck out of his face to show that he was in fact dead asleep a couple seconds ago before the disturbance.
“What? What is it Toph?” Katara asked, grabbing her container filled with water just in case.
“I feel someone coming.”
“What? Who?” Aang asked, hand reaching for his staff as he took position of a fighting stance, looking in all directions for any sign of movement that wasn’t from the wind.
Toph suddenly slammed her foot to the ground, a sharp line of rock scurrying along the earth’s floor toward what looked like just a dark spot on the woods. All three of them watched it, including Momo who was on top of Aang’s head, trying to get as far away from the danger as possible, and Appa, who was still lying down, eyes half open.
The line suddenly changed course, and before Toph could stop it, it bumped right into her foot, her body falling to the ground.
“Oof!”
“Toph you okay?!” Sokka yelled, making his way over to the girl only for him to trip on what was left of the line of disturbed earth, arms flying in circles trying to regain balance but he failed to do so, body falling to the ground right next to Toph.
“How did that happen? Did it run into something?” Katara asked confused.
Aang shook his head. “Not something. Someone. Someone’s Earth Bending from the woods.”
Once Sokka and Toph were off the ground, they were about to start slowly walking towards the woods to check things out but someone came out of the trees, revealing themselves.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was just exploring; the forest is pretty at night.”
A girl was standing there, dressed in dark green Earth Kingdom clothes, hair half tied up, an Earth Kingdom pin tucked in the strands. Her cheeks were flushed at the sight of many people looking at her strangely.
Suddenly all of them went in a stance, ready to strike. One boy, blue arrow in his bald head held his two hands up with a staff in one of them, clearly ready to Air Bend if needed. A second boy dressed in blue- she figured he was Water Tribe- held up a boomerang in his hand. The girl in a matching outfit of his had water wrapped around her arms, and the -blind?- girl next to her held two rocks in the air.
“Woah!” She said, holding her hands up to show she didn’t have weapons on her. “What’s this all ab-”
“Oh don’t act like the Fire Nation didn’t send you! Stay away from Aang!” The boy in the blue yelled, holding up his ‘weapon’ higher as a way to prove his point.
The girl was surprised. “Fire Nation? Why I’m on earth would I be on their side?” She said, stepping closer.
The girl holding rocks in the air suddenly put them down, the two rocks crashing back into the ground. “Wait.. I recognize you. Your voice I mean.”
“What? How?” Aang asked, titling his head.
“You’re one of the best Earth Benders in the world!” Toph exclaimed instead of answering Aang’s question.
“What?” Sokka said disbelievingly. “No way. She’s been sent by the Fire Nation to capture Aang. Stand back, Toph.” Sokka said, stepping in front of Toph to protect her.
Toph wasn’t having it, and pushed Sokka out of the way.
“Calm down. She wouldn’t work for the Fire Nation. She’s one of the best warriors ever!”
“It’s nice that you’re a whole fan and all, but please someone tell me what’s happening.” Katara asked, her water going back into her container strapped to her side now that she knew the girl wasn’t a threat.
Topph smiled. “You don’t know her? Seriously, you guys need to educate yourselves. She’s known in all the Four Nations- mainly for being one of the best fighters in the world.”
The girl smiled sheepishly. “I don’t really go around telling that to everyone but thanks I guess.” She said, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, you know, for frightening you guys. I guess I shall be on my merry way.” She said, saluting them with her first two fingers on her head, spinning around and starting to walk away.
“Wait! Stop!”
The girl turned back around, looking at the boy skin the blue arrow on his head. He was a couple steps in front of the group, staff still in his hand but no longer in a threatening way, and she just then noticed the lemur on his head.
“What?” The girl asked.
“Where did you come from? And are you really a good Earth Bender?” He asked curiously, eyes widening. She laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Yeah, I’ve been told. And I come from the Earth Kingdom, King Oblivious.” She nicknamed him, and his cheeks got red and this time he was rubbing his neck. He chuckled awkwardly.
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.” He said, glancing at her clothes that were indeed Earth Kingdom attire.
“I don’t believe you.” Sokka injected, right before he suddenly flung his boomerang at her, the weapon coming straight for the girl. She didn’t spare a glance, waving her hand as the once was settled earth rose up instantly and blocked the boomerang, so instead of hitting her it just simply smacked the rock and fell to the ground.
“Don’t even try.” She said, making the rock go back down into the earth so she could see the boy’s face. Aang was watching the girl with admiration in his eyes, orbs sparkling.
Sokka dramatically wept, leaning down and grabbing his boomerang and holding it close to his chest. “Boomerang!”
Katara rolled her eyes, and walked closer to the girl.
“Well if you’re not a threat then what are you doing here?”
The girl shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I was just exploring away from my campsite when I say an earth worm scurrying toward me.” She remarked, referencing Toph’s Earth Bending mechanism. The blind girl flushed. “Sorry.”
The girl waved her off with a simple gesture of the hand. “All good.”
Toph’s eyes suddenly widened with excitement.
“Can we keep her?” She asked desperately. Aang nodded very enthusiastically, turning to Katara. “Please?” He asked, making his eyes wide like a puppy.
The girl waved her hand again and earth came bursting up from the ground, knocking Aang over onto his back. “Oof!” He yelled. “What was that for?”
“I can’t stay with people I don’t know the names of.” She reminded.
Aang burst up with a whirl of air. “I’m Aang!” He introduced. “And this is Katara, Sokka, and Toph. Oh! And that’s Momo and Appa.” He said, pointing to each of his companions.
The girl smiled. “Cool.” She said quite sarcastically because she’s never seen a flying bison before.
“So, can we keep her?” Aang asked, begging Katara, almost on his knees beside Toph. Katara rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
Aang and Toph burst up out of excitement, high giving each other. (Once Toph Aang’s hand that is.)
Sokka made a noise of despair. “We’re keeping her?! She bent my boomerang!”
“Come on! You gotta show me some tricks to use against the Fire Lord.” Aang said, sleep the last thing on his mind as he grabbed her arm, leading her to the cliff that was great for Earth Bending.
Let’s just say that Sokka’s complains weren’t being listened to and the team’s so wanted rest wasn’t granted.
Thanks for requesting and I really hoped it was what you wanted! 🫶🏻
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hanni-bae44 · 12 hours
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title: player #10
pairing- sungchan x fem!reader
genre- implied university au, soccer themed, fluff
word count- 1.5k
a/n- just a short fic where y/n and sungchan are both soccer players and fate brings them together :)
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You took soccer seriously.
After having lost the last game, you were more competitive now than ever. The game was getting close to an end and your legs were killing you but you didn’t waver, not once losing focus. It seemed like hours of relentless running and having your eyes on the ball before the scores turned in your favor. With a bit of shoulder, you managed to get to the ball, and sent it straight into the net and past the amateur goalkeeper.
You soaked in the glory before glancing back at your friends in the bleachers. Just their presence alone gave you the energy to keep going. Although you were tired, it didn’t show. You were still riding the high of the win as you huddled with your teammates to cheer.
After taking out your mouthguard, you ran towards your friends in excitement. As you neared them, you found yourself losing balance. Your cleats never liked the bumpy gravel and they definitely didn’t like them today. You thought you were gonna hit the ground when someone caught you with both arms.
“Sorry, it’s just hard to walk in cleats,” you gave the stranger an apologetic smile. You froze for a second when you met his eyes. He was cute. So damn cute. And here you were a sweaty mess. 
“And yet you ran in cleats,” the stranger joked, “player number 10 should be more careful.”
You looked down at your jersey, feeling heat rush up to your cheeks. Surely player number 10 should’ve been more careful indeed.
Your friends then waved to you, calling out your name. They congratulated you and gave you a five high before introducing you to the stranger. “I see you’ve met Sungchan,” Wonbin smiled. 
“Yeah, I have.” You looked back at Sungchan and gave him a smile. “Are you guys friends?”
Turns out, they were.
You conversed with your friends for a bit on the track before deciding to go to a pizza place to celebrate. For some reason, Sungchan sat next to you. It started off a bit awkward since you weren't good with strangers but then it got more comfortable when your friends started to share embarrassing stories of Sungchan. While waiting for the food, Sungchan and you got lost in your own conversation. “So how long have you played soccer?” he began. 
His question took you by surprise. It wasn’t a loaded question by any means but when the boy asking you was cute, you felt immense pressure to say the right thing and not stutter.
Nervous, you rambled. Then, you asked him the same thing. And turns out, Sungchan was a soccer player too, but at a rival school. He played midfielder and it made you more drawn to him. You wondered why you’ve never seen his face before today, especially since he seemed so close with your friends. It made you curious about him.
As he told you more about himself, you realized that soccer practically ran in his bloodline. His whole family loved soccer, and as he told you more about his life, you began to realize that you and him had more in common than you thought. He was nothing like the boys you knew at your school. He was different. Like a breath of fresh air.
Before parting ways with him that night, he made sure to give you his number. He could’ve simply just entered his number into your phone, but no. He wanted to be extra and write his number on the back of your hand. Your friends teased you about this after Sungchan left but you didn’t think much of it.
In fact, you didn’t think much of Sungchan’s friendly actions that night for the rest of the week. It wasn’t until Wonbin suggested that you text Sungchan that you did. What started off as a simple “hey” turned into much more. Your days soon began to fill with Sungchan and he’d become the first person you thought of you when you woke up. It was just a friendship but as his texts turned into late night FaceTime calls, you began to realize how hard you were falling. Feelings had emerged and it was treading dangerously as it blurred the line of friends.
Despite the fact that your whole friendship with him began with soccer, he has never once asked you to attend his games. By the time he had asked, you were already deep into your thoughts. Were you two just friends? Was he just being nice? Or did he like you too?
Regardless of how you felt, you didn’t show it.
The night before the game, he called you on FaceTime and expressed his concerns for the upcoming game. He seemed apprehensive and while you tried to assure him that he'd do great, he still didn't seem so sure. You could tell in his eyes that something else was worrying him but you didn't press on it.
"How about this?," you began. "If you win tomorrow, I'll treat you to whatever you want."
Sungchan smiled at that. "And if I lose?"
"You won't." You were confident.
The next day, you came to his game alone since the rest of your friends were busy. Your eyes were glued on Sungchan from the moment you sat down on the bleachers. You didn’t think he could look even more breathtaking as he did when he was on the field. While he ran, you focused on his skill since it was your first time watching him play. As a result, it took you a while to realize his jersey number, but when you did, your hand flew to your mouth.
His jersey number was number 10 too.
You made a mental note to ask Sungchan about it later then focused back on the game. He was a pro, having sent the ball straight into the net multiple times, scoring each time he kicked. He was relentless and had good tactic. Any good player could look at his agility and the way he carried the ball across the field, and could tell that he knew what he was doing, and he was damn good at it. All those years of practice was evident in the way he carried the team.
During the game, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was mesmerizing and even more so when he scored the winning shot. 
After the cheers died down and everyone started to leave, you came down to meet Sungchan and greeted him with a huge smile. “See I knew you’d win the game! Also why didn’t you tell me your jersey number was number 10 too? I could’ve worn mine and we could’ve been matching,” you joked, nudging his arm.
“Truthfully? I wanted to see if you’d notice,” he smiled at you. “That's fate don’t you think? That we’re both number 10?”
“I suppose so,” you smiled back at him. Even though he was sweaty and out of breath, he was still so attractive.
He then rubbed at his nape, seemingly nervous all of a sudden. “So I was just thinking since I won the game and all. Instead of you treating me, how about I take you out instead? And if you're free tomorrow maybe we could go on a date too?"
The world fell silent as his words replayed in your head. Did you even hear him right? He had been so shy up until now, that you weren’t even sure if you were daydreaming or not. Despite being taken aback, a smile creeped at the corner of your lips when you finally spoke up. “I'd like that.”
You didn’t miss how his eyes lit up. Written on his face was admiration and the one confirmation you needed to know that he liked you too.
“Where should we eat now then? I’m starving.” Sungchan didn’t look much at you afterwards, and rambled about food as you both walked to his car.
Despite his confidence from asking you out on a date earlier, you could sense that he was still nervous. Tense too. You could feel it in the air when it got a little too quiet. And especially when his hands would brush against yours. You could tell he was holding back when he didn’t take the initiative to hold your hand and so when the air was silent and he least expected it, you locked your fingers with his, taking him by surprise.
He didn’t say anything nor look at you but based off how red the tips of his ears were, you could tell he was flustered. Sungchan was so shy sometimes that it made him even more adorable. You wondered how tomorrow's date would go as you walked alongside him.
His bangs no longer stuck to his forehead and his skin was now glowing from the post sweat. He was breathtaking and the moonlight only did him justice as it illuminated the slope of his nose, his rosy cheeks, and his long eyelashes. You didn’t even realize how long you were staring at him until he licked his lips and cleared his throat, turning to face you.
“So,” he began softly. His voice was barely above a whisper yet it pierced through the silence. “Hotpot?”
“Sounds great,” you smiled. He was truly so cute.
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inkivaarinensart · 1 year
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Some accidental horror pinups, anyone?
The Eye opens (its shirt)
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juneviews · 4 days
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23.5 pairing godji & golf, long time friends & trans icons together, IS THE MOST ICONIC THING EVER!!! I swear this show has the best characters, I love them all so much 😭😭😭
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shmpxx · 7 months
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CURSED SPIRIT — y.o
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⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
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Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
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selfishdoll · 7 months
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NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH
Just back into it, and let it touch
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JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS
ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.
cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.
i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.
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KASHIMO HAJIME.
the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.
you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.
the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.
but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.
what are you doing?
you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.
he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.
don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].
and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.
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GOJO SATORU.
probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.
you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.
on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.
making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.
just use the one you sent me?
no, baby, i wanna use a different one.
although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.
gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.
what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.
nothing.
in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.
this had now became a game of who would crack first.
and much to your dismay, you always did.
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GETO SUGURU.
your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.
you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.
you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.
you really like my nails, suguru?
mhm.
lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.
and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.
you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.
now, you deal with it? understand?
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NANAMI KENTO.
much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.
when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.
you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.
you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.
what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.
[y/n]…
just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.
that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.
oh, ken, your paperwork..
that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..
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TAKUMA INO.
to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.
so of course you decided to toy with him.
coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.
until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.
the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.
uh, y/n…
sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.
slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.
just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.
thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.
needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.
“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.
“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”
“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”
Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.
“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”
Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.
“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”
“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”
Danny paused. God dammit.
“…Fine.”
“YESSSSSS!!!!”
——
Danny-
“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
-is so damn tired.
“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”
Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”
Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”
“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.
Danny chimed in.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”
Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”
Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.
“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”
“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”
Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”
They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.
But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.
“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.
Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”
“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.
“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.
“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”
“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”
"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.
"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."
"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.
"Should we be encouraging that?"
"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.
"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.
"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"
Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.
“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”
Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”
“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”
“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”
“Sure.”
Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.
“No. Bad Tim.”
“Awww, come on Danny!”
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jyoongim · 2 months
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~Blood & BLISS~
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Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight” 
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 4: John?
The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.
“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.
“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.
“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.
“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.
“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.
“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.
“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.
“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”
Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.
Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”
“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.
“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.
“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.
“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.
“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 
“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.
“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.
“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 
“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.
“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.
“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.
“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.
“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.
“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.
“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.
“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.
-
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It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.
Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).
It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.
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The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.
As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.
“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.
“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…
Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.
“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.
“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.
“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.
“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”
“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”
“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.
“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.
Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.
“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.
“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.
“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 
“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.
Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.
“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.
Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.
“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.
“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.
Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.
John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally
“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.
John: our names are kyle john and simon
“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.
John: johnny* sorry
They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.
you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?
“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.
“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.
He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 
John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?
Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.
John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.
“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.
“So did you!” Ghost retorted.
“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.
“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”
As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”
“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.
“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.
“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.
“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.
The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.
“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.
“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.
They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.
After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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gubsbuubs · 1 month
Text
Headache Relief
(18+)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Sex duh, creampie.
Summary: When Spencer seeks relief for his intense headaches, he finds more than just painkillers in Y/n's room.
A/N: Hi everyone, I've been away... I know... I know. This bar exam prep is kicking my ass. I've got some other works on the way but I had to finish this one and share it with you guys.
English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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Y/n laid on the bed, her tired eyes scanning the pages of the worn book, the weight of today's concluded case still heavy on her mind. The darkened motel room was softly illuminated by the gentle glow of the muted television, casting faint shadows that danced across the walls. Her peace was abruptly shattered by a knock at her door, soft yet insistent, pulling her away from the comfort of the pages.
Glancing at the bedside clock, the red digits of 1:52 glowed back at her, stirring a sense of urgency.
Could something have happened? Her worry mounted with each passing second. With a quick exhale, she rose from the bed, her heart pounding with apprehension. Her slender fingers fumbled with the lock as she approached the door, anticipation gnawing at her. When it swung open, she was met with a sight that caused her stomach to twist with concern.
There he stood, his appearance disheveled, his exhaustion evident in the lines etched upon his face. The fingers of his left hand pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose, while his right hand leaned heavily against the wall for support. Dressed in a mismatched ensemble of a band shirt and pajama pants, he looked like he had been through a rough night.
"Spence?!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry, the concern evident in her tone.
His bloodshot eyes met hers, "Y/n, I'm sorry... I know it's late," he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Are you okay?" Her hand instinctively reached out to touch his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips.
"I….I need your help…" His breathing was ragged, and his words came out in a rush, "It´s happening again," he admitted, vulnerability seeping through.
"Come in" Y/n said softly, tugging lightly on his shoulder.
He sat on the end of her bed, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of his posture. She closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the dimly lit room. Turning to face him, she found him hunched over, his hands pressed firmly against the sides of his temples as he massaged his own head, his face contorting in pain.
"I... I know you always carry a pouch of medicine everywhere you go," he began, "I thought... maybe you could help me."
Y/n's heart softened at the vulnerability in his voice, realizing he must be in significant pain to ask for medicine, so without a word, she crossed the room. Rummaging through her bag, her fingers closed around a small pill bottle, and then she grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge.
With a sense of urgency, she handed them to Spencer before sitting by his side.
"Here, Spence," she said softly. "Take this. It should help."
Spencer accepted the pill and water with gratitude, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to open the cap. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the pill with a gulp of water, placing the bottle on the floor afterward
A moment of silence passed, and Spencer attempted to stand, but his head swam with dizziness. Y/n reacted swiftly, rising faster than anticipated to catch him just as his legs gave way beneath him.
With a gentle yet firm grip, she guided him back down onto the bed, her heart racing as he sat back down.
"Whoa, whoa, Spence, are you okay?" Her voice was filled with worry as she steadied him, her hands offering support and holding him upright. "I think you might need to lie down for a bit," she suggested, concern evident in her eyes.
He opened his mouth to talk, even looked up to lock his eyes with hers, but feeling unsteady he leaned forward, and breath in deeply as his head came to rest against her stomach.
"I'm sorry," he rushed, his voice muffled against her, "The dizziness... it's from the pain" his words tinged with frustration. "It'll pass as soon as the medication kicks in."
As he attempted to lift his head, another wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway once again. Y/n instinctively pulled him closer, stepping between his legs and encouraging him to hug her waist for support. "Hey, it's okay, Spence," she reassured "Just hold on to me until you feel better. I'm here for you."
"I'm sorry," his voice was soft and as low as whisper.
“Shhhhhh” Her right hand met the back of his head, applying gentle pressure to certain points.
"I just… I don't want to impose on your space, I just..." His sentence was interrupted by a relieved sigh, the tension slowly melting away under her comforting touch.
"Spencer, that's what friends are for," Y/n murmured softly, as she continued to massage his head, the tension gradually ebbing away.
As her words reached his ears, Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a caring friend by his side.
"Friend… right...." he taught to himself.
Amidst the urgency for the relief of mediation and the dizziness that followed, he'd become oblivious to the situation he found himself in. His hands intertwined around her, gripping tighthy on her waist, his head nestled against her stomach, while her gentle touch sought to alleviate his suffering.
In that moment, the intimacy of their position became glaringly apparent. Yes they were just friends, yet here they were, intertwined in a way that transcended mere friendship.
Another sigh of relief left Spencer's lips as he felt her touch soothe his pain and provide a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Is this helping?" She asked gently.
"Yeah, it is. Thank you, Y/n," Spencer replied gratefully, lightly nodding his head against her stomach.
She looked down at him, nestled against her, he looked calm, relieved, like he belongs close to her.
She paused the movement of her fingers for a moment, considering how she could further alleviate his discomfort. "Maybe I could massage your head. That could help, right?"
Spencer nodded once again, lightly lifting his chin to grace her with a faint smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Actually, head massages can be quite effective for relieving headaches," he said, slipping into his familiar role of sharing facts and statistics. "They help to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension, which can provide significant relief from pain."
"Well then, let me try something," Slowly, she stepped away, feeling his hands brush against her sides and hips as she moved back. With measured steps, Y/n climbed into the bed behind him, settling against the headboard. Spencer turned his head back slightly to look at her, a hint of confusion evident in his expression.
He watched her as she motioned with her hand, encouraged him, "Come here, lay back." She patted the sheets between her legs, inviting him to find comfort in her embrace.
As Spencer looked at her, the world around him seemed to fade into the background. His gaze traveled up her legs, lingering on the bare skin of her thighs barely covered by her shorts and the oversized shirt that draped over her frame. Despite the pain that throbbed in his head, he couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him. There was a softness in her features, a gentleness in the way she sat against the headboard, her legs spread slightly, inviting him closer.
A wince of pain brought him back to reality, and with a nod, he complied, scooting back onto the bed and laying back into her embrace.
His head found its place between her legs, his head lightly leaning onto her lower stomach, the warmth of the bare skin of her thighs brushing against his cheeks and neck.
Despite the pain, his mind started to wander as he laid there.
As her fingers worked their way through his hair, easing the tension in his temples, Spencer's thoughts began to drift. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of the softness of her skin against his face, and the delicate scent of florals that surrounded her.
As they lingered in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/n's gentle massage continued to soothe Spencer's temples. Though the pain started to subsided, the thoughts of her only seemed to intensify, swirling through his mind like a tempestuous storm. Lost in his reverie, Spencer's awareness heightened as he glanced down and noticed … his pants were a little tighter now.
A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he realized the effect she was having on him. Quickly he sat up, his cheeks burning and his breathing picking up speed.
"Is everything okay, Spencer?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. "Did I hurt you?"
Spencer hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't want to admit that he got hard and now had to leave the room, but the concern in her eyes urged him to speak.
"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "You were a real help, but I should leave. I don't want to... You should rest now." As he attempted to get up and leave the bed, Y/n's hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. She tried to meet his eyes but his gaze kept shifting away, so Y/n's eyes inadvertently wandered downward, drawn by a curious instinct. And there it was, beneath the fabric of his pijama pants, a subtle but unmistakable tenting. Heat flooded her cheeks as realization dawned on her, and her hand instinctively flew left of his arm to cover her surprised mouth.
"I... I..." Spencer began, his words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. Despite his attempts to speak, the words remained elusive, trapped on the tip of his tongue like a fleeting thought.
"I need to go," he finally muttered getting up. But before he could make a move to leave, Y/n's hand now met his, halting him in his tracks.
"Spencer, wait," she implored, her tone gentle yet firm, her eyes searching for understanding.
"Y/n, I... I'm so sorry," the words tumbled from his lips in a rush of guilt and regret. "You've been such a great friend, and I couldn't help but..." he sighed heavily.
"Oh, you probably think I´m such a pervert..." His voice trailed off, unable to continue, as shame washed over him. He felt like he had crossed a line, making her uncomfortable in a way he had never intended.
"You don't need to apologize," she said, "And you're not a perv, you haven't made me uncomfortable."
"What?" he asked in disbelief, looking up at her with confusion in his eyes.
Y/n smiled softly, "I understand Spencer."
"You understand?" His eyebrows were furrowed, and his heart was racing.
"Humm humm," she nodded her head, looking up in to his eyes.
"What do you mean?" He asked, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him.
He watched closely, as she gently took his hand, guiding it down until his fingertips met the warmth of her covered core. His breath caught in his throat as a rush of heat surged through him, his heart pounding with a mixture of shock and desire.
"I understand," she whispered softly, her voice filled with desire.
Spencer's mind reeled with the intensity of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her arousal and the softness of her touch. He felt a surge of longing flood through him, a primal urge driving him to lean in closer, to explore the depths of her desire.
"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice almost faltered as he felt the wetness seeping through the fabric. His heart pounded in his chest. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw nothing but longing and desire reflected back at him.
She nodded, her lips parted in anticipation of what was to come. With a gentle touch, his hand met her cheek, guiding her closer until their lips met in a passionate kiss.
The intensity of their kiss grew, fueling their desire as Spencer's hand ventured boldly, tracing circles over her covered clit. A small moan escaped her as his tongue brushed her bottom lip asling for enterence.
"Fuck," she gasped, her breath hitching as she felt the bed dip beneath her. Her heart raced with anticipation as Spencer knelt before her, his gaze filled with hunger and desire.
With trembling hands, Spencer reached for the hem of her clothing. Before he peeled away the fabric, he looked up at her, his gaze searching for reassurance.
"Do you want me too keep going, Y/n?" he whispered, his voice tinged with urgency. He needed to be certain that she was ready to take this step with him, to surrender to the passion that burned between them.
Y/n met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes... yes... I need you, Spence," she whined.
With a shaky breath, Spencer slowly dragged the fabric of her shorts down her legs, his hands trembling with anticipation as he revealed her nakedness to him. Y/n watched him with bated breath, a flush of heat spreading across her skin as her clothing fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric before she managed to pull it over her head, tossing it aside with a sense of urgency. Now fully exposed, she stood before him, her body illuminated by the soft glow of the room.
Spencer's gaze trailed over her naked form. He watched intently as the slight chill in the air caused her nipples to harden, standing erect against the smooth curve of her breasts.
Y/n felt utterly exposed, her body laid bare before him.
With a steady hand, Spencer reached out, his touch gentle yet firm as he took her right nipple between his index and middle finger. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the sensation ripple through her. She arched her back instinctively.
"Fuck... please," Y/n whimpered, her voice laced with desperation as she parted her legs further, inviting him closer. With a sense of urgency, she reached for his hand, guiding it to where she wanted it most.
Feeling her warmth and wetness against his fingers, Spencer's desire surged as he explored her delicate folds. Now there was no fabric between the soft skin of his fingers and the warm, slick slit of her pussy. He moaned at the sigth and teased her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Spencer's breath hitched as he added another finger, the sensation of her tightness and warmth driving him wild with desire. With each movement of his fingers, he couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly she fit around him.
"God, you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't even imagine how good you'll feel wrapped around my cock."
The thought of being buried deep inside her, of feeling her tightness enveloping him completely, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
As Y/n writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans filled the room. "Please," she gasped, her voice thick with need. "Fuck me, Spencer. I need you."
Spencer withdrew his fingers from within her, eliciting a soft whimper of protest from Y/n. But before she could voice her longing, he brought his fingers to her parted lips.
"Open," he commanded.
Without hesitation, Y/n obeyed, parting her lips to accept his fingers in to her mouth. With a hunger that mirrored his own, she sucked eagerly, tasting herself on his skin. The raw intensity of the moment sent a thrill coursing through her, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing second.
As she eagerly licked and sucked his fingers clean, Spencer's hands moved to the waistband of his pajama pants, his movements urgent and determined. With a quick motion, he undid the strings, discarded his pajama pants and shirt, revealing his throbbing erection that sprang free. Y/n's gaze locked onto his member, her eyes widening with desire as she took in his arousal.
As Spencer lightly stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, he whispered, "Imagine how good it will feel inside of you,"
Oh, what a sigth! Her eyebrows furrowed in a plea, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured. "I need to be inside you." He positioned himself, aligning his throbbing length with her entrance. With a sense of urgency, she reached behind him, grabbing a handful of his ass, urging him forward as he lowered himself onto her.
With a shared moan, he entered her completely. The sensation of him filling her to the hilt overwhelming their senses.
Spencer began by fucking her slowly, his movements deliberate and passionate, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. As he thrusted into her with a gentle rhythm, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, seeking to subside her moans of pleasure.
Her hands tangled in the curls at the back of his head, in response Spencer tilted his head back slightly, letting out a throaty moan. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "You're so fucking tight."
"Oh, Spence," she gasped, her breath hitching with pleasure as his movements intensified. "You feel so good, filling me up like this."
"You like that, baby?" Spencer's voice was low and sultry. "You like feeling my cock deep inside you, making you mine?"
"Yes," she moaned. "I want you to take me. I want you to fuck me harder."
Spencer's thrusts grew faster and the bed creaked beneath them, the wooden frame protesting the force of their passion. His right hand gripped her thigh forcefully, his fingers digging into her skin as he sought to anchor himself to her. Meanwhile, the fingers of his left hand found their way to her clit once again, expertly stroking the sensitive nub with each rhythmic movement.
With each thrust, his hips rocked against hers, driving deeper into her. The sensation of him filling her so completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.
Y/n's hands roamed over his back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles as she clung to him for dear life. Her nails dug into his skin with every powerful thrust, leaving crescent-shaped imprints.
"Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" Spencer's voice was low against her ear as he pounded into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Oh fuck, yes…" she moaned. "God, yes, I want to cum so badly."
"I'm close, too," he admitted, his voice strained with pleasure.
As Y/n's moans intensified, Spencer continued to pound into her with relentless fervor, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of her impending climax. With each thrust, he felt her walls clenching around him, the tightness driving him to the edge of control.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice strained with desperation, "let me cum inside. I need to feel you come undone around me."
With a fervent nod, Y/n surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body, her walls clenching around his cock as she reached her orgasm.
The feeling of her tightness milking him was all it took to push Spencer over the edge. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his hips grinding against his own release washing over him in powerful waves as they came together.
They stayed there, tangled together, basking in the aftermath of their shared passion. The room was filled with a hazy, contented silence as they caught their breath.
Eventually, Spencer stirred, untangling himself from Y/n's embrace with a reluctant sigh. "I'll grab us a towel," he murmured, slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom.
Returning moments later, he set to work cleaning them both up, his movements gentle and unhurried. There was a quiet intimacy to the way he wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking, as if each touch carried a silent promise of care and affection.
Once they were both cleaned up, Spencer rejoined Y/n in bed, pulling her close once again as they settled into the warmth of each other's arms.
"Hey, how's your head feeling now?" She asked softly with genuine care.
Spencer looked into her eyes, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Much better. Thank you for caring about me and for taking care of me."
"I'm glad you came knocking on my door," she replied warmly.
Spencer chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you know what else helps to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension?" He quipped with a playful smirk.
"Now we know what to do next time you have a headache." With a smile, Y/n leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
1K notes · View notes
amberluvsbugs · 3 months
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Recovery
I've been having a lot of brain rot over @xitsensunmoon vampire AU. One mainly of how Moon would be if Y/n came home one day very weak from the blood they had to give? Knowing that he does not show his tender feelings behind his teasing gestures.
Short Drabble on this idea is down below.
Moon has always been a bit of a teasing, cocky, gremlin most of the time, always pushing you and just being the chaotic character that he is. Despite him being such a tease, he does care about you. Especially when it comes to your health. Knowing that you push yourself so far for giving blood to those in need, including the two vampires that now reside with you in secrecy, it does worry them at times with how tired you are when you finally return home from work.
One particular day, however, you push yourself a little too far. Giving more blood than you should have. But despite your health, you knew it would save so many people in the long run. “I’m home.” You state out begrudgingly before turning and weakly closing the door behind you. Your arms feel like lead and are a struggle to lift. 
Moon made his way over to you, his eyes boring into you as he grinned his sharp fanged teeth at you before stopping short. His features quickly changing into something a bit more of an underlying sense of concern as he studied you with his bright red eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “What? Is there something wrong?” You raised a brow. “You look terrible.” Moon spoke out.
“Well yeah, I just got back from the doctors, you know how the deal is.” You shrug out. “You look worse than the other days.” Moon gives deeply. You let out an annoyed sigh. “Moon I don't have time for your snarky remarks right now. I have shit to do and I don't need-” As you started to make your way around Moon, your balance started to drift and suddenly felt a sudden weakness in your legs. Dark spots started covering your sight as things started to drift lower, and lower and lower. Where you getting shorter than Moon? Your mind fuzzy and not catching up with what was exactly happening. Something moved on the edge of your vision, you saw a flash of blue and your body jerked slightly. You felt something from under your arms. When the dark spots in your sight started to disappear, you could finally see what happened in your daze. Moon’s slender hands were under you before you could fully hit the ground and risk any more damage. His expression was now one of wide-eyed worry as he looked over you. His eyes flit from your face to your chest, then back. His smile was no longer present as it was now in a concerned frown while his stature easily loomed over you in his squatted position. Moon had rushed over to catch you.
You shifted a bit by a means to sit up, looking anywhere but Moon’s face as he still carefully held you. “Sorry, ‘m fine. It’s just a sleep spell that caught me off guard is all.” You mumbled out. There was a beat of stillness before Moon moved one of his hands to drift down your arm. You tensed as he gently pressed your wrist. He was being mindful of his claws as he pressed his thumb to the pulse point on your wrist to feel the thump of your now weak life force. “You pushed yourself too far. You are weak.” Moon softly scolds you. You let out a huff at this, weakly tugging your hand away from his grasp. He was right but this was normal for you. You just went only a touch overboard it’s nothing serious. Moon sighed and moved to bring his hands back under you to pick you off the ground. Your side pressing to Moon as one hand wrapped under your back and the other under your legs, holding you in a signature bridal style as his long cape dragged with him in his movements. “Wh- what are you doing..?” You tensed at the close contact as he moved to walk over to the living room. “Carrying you.” “You know I can walk Moon-” “Do you want to have another sleep spell and fall again?” He looked at you with a sharp expression in his red eyes. “….No.” You grumbled out and begrudgingly looked away. You hated how he had a good point. “But I need to clean n’ finish up some things.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his arms easily held you firm. Your whole body was just so difficult to move. “Later.” Moon flatly stated before moving over to the couch and carefully lowering you down on it. “You need to recover and rest.” You grumbled and your body simply melted to the couch. You were still trying to move to get up but even your body just wasn't listening while you laid down. “You're so stubborn.” Moon chuckled slightly in a tease. He boops you with a clawed finger on your nose as he bends over you with his face cocked to the side. Softly amused by your antics while he sharply grins at you. “And you're a prick.” You deadpan. He smiles cheekily at you before looking over and walking out of your sight. His footsteps and the bells he adorns fading out as he goes to get something. Your eyes already threatening to close in waves of tiredness. God, you had stuff to do, why was your body like this?
The jingle of bells prompts Moon returning back to where you were. He lays a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, being mindful of his claws as he quietly sits in front of your weak form on the side of the couch. Your eyes opened slightly at the contact and seeing him. His head on level with your own in this position while his fluffy cape draped over the back of him. “Here…Drink.” He urges as brings a glass of water over to you. His other hand helps guide you to sit up. You gingerly take the glass and sip the water down while Moon continues to stare at you with his sharp red eyes. Flitting from your face to your chest, and then back again. Concern laced in his features. Once satisfied and swallowing the last of your water, you handed the now empty glass back to him. “Thank you.” You quietly give. He hums in acknowledgment as he sets the glass on the ground beside the couch before you laid back down. Shifting one of the pillows that was on the couch to be under your head. Moon's head now resting on the couch on level and particularly close with your own face, watching you with an unreadable furrowed expression. His clawed hands rested under his faceplate as if pouting or being hesitant over something. It was starting to worry you now. “What's up wit’ you, I don't think I’ve ever seen you like this before.” You questioned sluggishly. Moon looked away slightly as his brows furrowed more, grumbling a bit as his fingers tensed a bit in the cushion. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
He releases a huff in slight embarrassment. “I’m worried…about you.” Concern filling his answer. “You’re… worried about me?” Your sleepy brain was trying to process his answer. He nods once.
“Why? Imma be fine.” You state as if it was nothing but a simple thing. Moon eyes looks back at you for a few beats before moving slightly closer to you. Sliding one of his slender hands to be under the pillow you lay on for more support and brought his other free hand to grasp one of your own that was lying on the couch between you and Moon. His slow and careful grasp engulfing it entirely as he looks back at you once more. One of his fingers pressing to your pulse point once more.
“You need to take better care of yourself….You push yourself too hard.”
You sigh sleepily. “I know Moonie… But every time I do this, I help so many others. You both included. Don’ want you guys to starve.” You mumble as you blink heavily.
“You are just as important, Starlight.” Moon whispers as his concerned eyes flit around your face once more. He gently released his hand that held your own and brought a careful index claw up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. “Please promise me you won’t push yourself like this again.” He softly asks you.
“Mmmmnnnn..” You mumble out, your brain starting to quickly go into sleep mode.
Moon’s bell on his hat rings softly when he leans his face closer to you, the fluff of his hat brushing up on you with how close he is. “Please.”
“Mmmm okay, okay…” You managed to get out sluggishly.
Moon lets out a huff in relief before looking over and reaching for a blanket that was folded on the other side of the couch. Draping it over your small form before looking over you again.
Letting out another soft sigh he leaned in and nuzzled his faceplate onto your forehead. His arm wrapped around your torso.
“Don’t do it again or you will regret it.” He scolds lightly.
“I woonnnttt.” You drawl out. Defeated in the exhaustion and Moon’s hold on you.
Moon's presence holds you softly and securely as sleep washes over you in seconds. You had seriously pushed yourself too far today as your pulse was just barely thumping under Moon’s touch. He does not have a desire to lose you. You mean too much to both him and Sun.
Moon’s form stays by your side as you sleep deeply, his eyes closed as his faceplate nuzzles you. Whether it be in content or by means of comfort, he lets out quiet deep purrs to try and aid in your recovery. Still paying close attention to your pulse as he rests with you on the couch as if it could stop at any moment.
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yumeka-sxf · 5 months
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In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖
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Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).
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The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭
But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅
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I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀
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The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.
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Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅
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The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.
But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!
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By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.
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Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!
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I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.
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I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣
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Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.
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The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)
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Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂
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hischierhoney · 9 days
Text
Just Friends
Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader
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summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(
Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.
You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”
He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”
Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.
You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.
“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.
Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”
Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.
“Don’t,” he whispers.
Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“
“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”
He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.
“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.
You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”
He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.
…..
Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.
Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.
He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.
Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.
When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.
Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.
“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”
“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”
“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”
“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”
Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.
…..
The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.
It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.
He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.
He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.
He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.
It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.
You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”
Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”
That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.
He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.
“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”
He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”
He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.
The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”
You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.
You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.
He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.
…..
It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.
He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.
“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“
“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”
“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”
Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.
“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.
He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.
His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.
Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.
He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.
“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.
You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”
God, he wishes.
…..
Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.
They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.
There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.
When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.
“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”
He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”
You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”
Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.
“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“
He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.
“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”
He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.
“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”
God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.
…..
Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.
He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.
“You’re here,” he says, quietly.
Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”
He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.
“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”
He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.
“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.
He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.
“You’re pretty,” you say back.
He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”
“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.
“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.
“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.
“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”
If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.
You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”
And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.
You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”
He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”
It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.
You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”
He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“
Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.
“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”
By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.
“She can stay,” Jack says.
You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.
He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.
“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.
Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.
Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”
Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.
“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.
He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”
You nod. “I know.”
He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“
You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”
Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.
“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”
You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”
That’s enough for Jack, for now.
He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.
“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.
You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.
“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”
When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.
…..
He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.
Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”
Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”
“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”
He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.
He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.
He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.
“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.
“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”
You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.
a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!
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