#does jt count when it comes to this..

[loversrocktvgirl2]

Hi buddy!!!<3

Could I req Tony, Bucky, Steve, (mainly), or any other characters you wanna add (idc hiw many lmao) with an s/o who shields their mouth with their hand when they laugh? Kinda like those cool characters in video games (ex. Lisa or Yae Miko from Genshin or smthn). Like, its subconscious and such when they do it and they dont do jt to look cool, they js.. do it?

Does that make sense? Srry

Also please remember to take care of yourself!!! Eat something, drink water, take breaks, have a nap, etc.!!!!!<3<3<3<3<3

hihihiii

thank you so much for the request and the nice words!! i appreciate it very much. i hope this is what you were thinking of! i added sam to the mix because i am a firm believer that sam wilson needs more fics

my mini multiverse of madness…

Laughing Headcannons (Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam) 

word count: 0.5k+

masterlist

Tony 

Tony loves to make you laugh. This man is cracking jokes all day every day just to get someone to crack a smile, and he especially loves it when he makes you laugh.

You instinctively cover your mouth when you laugh. It makes Tony smile, because he knows you’re laughing, but he always adds a teasing remark, like, “c’mon, don’t hide your pretty face.”

Eventually, he comes to realize that it’s just part of you, and you don’t even really mean to be doing it, so he’s just endeared by it. You’re adorable and perfect in his eyes, no matter what way you swing it. 

Steve 

Steve never paid too much attention or worried about the fact that you covered your mouth with your hand whenever you laughed. Seemed normal enough to him. 

But the more and more time you spend together, Steve started to do it, too. The other Avengers started noticing it when he would laugh at something they said. The other day, Natasha made a sarcastic comment to Tony that made him laugh, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He’s done it many more times since, leading Natasha to tease him for picking up your mannerisms. 

You think it’s cute that he’s picked it up from you, although Steve is pretty freakin adorable no matter what he’s doing, so if he’s laughing, you love it anyway. 

Bucky 

Bucky’s a little surprised the first time he makes you laugh. It’s the first time he’s made anyone besides Steve laugh in a while (he has to be comfortable to make jokes), and he can’t help but notice how you cover your mouth with your hand. 

Later, he notices that you do it again, and again. You cover your mouth every time that you laugh. At first, Bucky is worried that it’s a self conscious thing, that you’re embarrassed of how you look when you laugh or something. But he doesn’t want to say anything to make you more self conscious or to make you feel like you should be, so he’s careful. One day, he asks you why you do it. Once you shrug and say that you’ve just always done it, he lets it go.

Bucky loves when you look happy, and you look happy when you laugh. 

Sam

Sam’s drug of choice is making you laugh and entertaining you, so whenever he sees you cover your mouth, he takes it as a good sign that he’s amused you. 

Sam loves teasing you, playfully dancing, and making little funny comments about a situation to you when you’re in a room full of people. Sometimes, if you’re on the phone, he’ll be silly and make faces at you through the glass door of your office. And even though he can’t hear you, he can certainly see you cover your mouth to hide your laugh, and it makes him happy. 

To him, it’s always just been a silent gesture that he’s done the right thing that makes you laugh, and so he loves it. 

taglist @spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

[senditcolton]

Homecoming: Craving

i could eat that girl for lunch. she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one.

summary: JT Compher is back in Denver. Unfortunately for you, your craving for him hasn't subsided. But fortunately, you are blessed with Mikko Rantanen - your boyfriend who seems to share your hunger towards his former teammate. bonus epilogue!! song inspo: LUNCH by Billie Eilish word count: 8.7K warnings: smut! threesome (MFM, no explicit MxM but bisexual Mikko is heavily implied), oral (m & f receiving), ass-eating (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), anal sex (f receiving), cumplay, dirty talk, and just general depravity.

“Didn’t think you missed him that much.”

The deep voice startles you out of your reverie, your eyes darting from the ginger that had occupied your attention since he stepped foot in the bar to your boyfriend Mikko sitting next to you.

“What?” you say, partially because you brain didn’t quite register his words and partially because your mind was still playing the images of JT’s fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. How the trace of liquor on his lips catches the dim lighting of the bar and how they could feel pressed against your own lips or against your –

“I said,” Mikko smiles, once again breaking your trace as you try to shake those fantasies out of your head. “I didn’t think you missed JT that much.”

Your heart flips in your chest, your eyes locking with his. There is a hint of mischief sparkling in his blue irises, one that only increases as he takes in your hesitation. Granted, you weren’t sure what he was implying – if anything at all. But you had managed to keep the… infatuation? Desire? Craving… you had for his now former teammate a secret ever since those feelings first appeared. You weren’t about to admit them now. Your silence gives Mikko time to elaborate but as soon as he does, you realize that your appraisal of JT Compher had been anything but subtle.

“You’ve been staring at him since he arrived.”

The heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, the embarrassment flooding through you unbridled.

“Oh. Um, yeah, um. It’s just, uh,” you stutter out, the gaze of your boyfriend not accusatory but still too much for your mind to handle. It doesn’t help your case when, in your stumbling, your eyes dart back to the man in question. Perhaps thankfully, your jumbled explanation is cut off by Mikko’s warm laughter and the sound instantly soothes you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says scooting closer, his arm wrapping around you, hand gripping your waist as he pulls you into his body, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. You let some of the anxiety depart from your body, Mikko’s own heat helping you relax. You grab your drink, ready for the alcohol to put you even more at ease. It almost works until you feel the warmth of Mikko’s breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“JT missed you just as much.”

You weren’t sure if it was the words he said or how he said them – in that hushed sultry tone – that has you choking on your drink, the coughs coming in quick succession. Mikko doesn’t do anything to help you, probably enjoying your flailing. Eventually, your breathing rightens and you flip your head to stare at him with the most bewildered look painting your features.

“What?” you say, the only word that your brain could muster falling from your lips. It isn’t the clearest question but one Mikko intrinsically understands anyway.

“Neither of you were being very subtle,” he cooly explains. His blue eyes are still locked on your face, taking in the shift of your expression as the information sinks in. The fact that Mikko was able to read your desires so easily made you flounder but not as much as his words ‘neither of you’; a subtle implication that JT potentially wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Your eyes fall away from Mikko, trailing back towards JT. The redhead is still ignorant to your stare, still laughing with the other guys. You watch his movements: the way his plain white t-shirt stretches across his shoulders, the flex of his forearms, the spark in his dark eyes. Your observation is once again cut short by the shifting of Mikko behind you, pulling you closer to him as he deftly brushes your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your neck.

“Do you want to give him a homecoming you’ll both remember?”

You force yourself to take one of the deepest breaths you’ve ever taken, trying your damnedest to suppress the carnal hunger that had easily found a home in your lower abdomen. With quick look back at your boyfriend, you take in his expression: curious and ever patient. It would be romantic, the way he is looking at you, juxtaposed only by the fact that he had almost hauled you onto his lap, the heat radiating from him only increasing the fire already surging in you.

“Are you…” you start to say, a part of your mind still reeling from the fact that this wasn’t a dream brought forth from your subconscious because JT Compher was back in Denver. “You’d be okay with that?”

You finally manage to choke out the question, giving way to you need for your boyfriend’s former teammate.

“Did you forget about last summer already?” he says, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a teasing lilt to his reply. You feel another rush of desire as the images of skin still slick from the sauna and the phantom sensation of two pairs of hands on your body flash through your mind.

“I mean, with him?” you clarify. Summer was Mikko’s idea, one you gladly went along with but this… he never expressed any interest in JT. That craving was entirely yours.

“Kisu, you’ve indulged my desires. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

The smile that appears on your face this time is not shy or bashful. Instead, it is devilish, wicked. How you managed to find someone like Mikko – a man who never balked at your desires because he understood and sometimes shared them – was a miracle to you.

Your eyes once again slink back towards JT and this time, your gaze meets his. A sigh falls from your lips when you feel Mikko burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulders, his lips pressing against your skin. Your stare never leaves JT, your mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his brown eyes drink you in.

It takes a moment before an equally devilish smirk appears on his lips. He takes another swig of his beer as he watches your body react to Mikko’s kisses, that heady stare forcing flames to lick at your abdomen.

“Careful with those eyes, kisu,” Mikko whispers. “We are still in public.”

It’s a meant as a tease but you’d be damned if that knowledge doesn’t send another surge of heat through your body. You shift impossibly closer to your boyfriend, his hand moving to grip at your opposite thigh, finally pulling you into his lap. It takes all your strength to quiet the moan that wants to fall from your lips as your ass grazes against his groin, feeling how hard he is already, your eyes briefly fluttering close. Judging from the rumble that emanates from Mikko’s chest, you can tell that he feels the pulsing of your own core. You regain enough composure to shoot one last sultry look in JT’s direction before turning your attention to Mikko.

“You’re one to talk,” you quip, your hips rolling to subtly grind against him, a thrum of power humming through you as you watch his jaw clench and feel his grip tighten. Those shocking blue eyes re-open, a small grin appearing on his lips in response to your words and actions. You feel the hand that had been residing on the top of your thighs disappear, his fingers coming to trace your jawline, guiding your face so he can properly press his lips against yours.

You relax into the kiss, your body reacting the same way it always did when you kissed Mikko. It was so easy, so effortless, sinking into the gravity of him. Your own hand lifts to cup his face, your fingers deftly tracing the cut of his jawline, his stubble tickling your skin. Mikko’s arm wraps around your body, his hand now splayed across your stomach, his own fingertips coming to dip underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against the smooth skin he finds there.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The deep voice that had haunted your darkest fantasies sounds from somewhere close by and you force yourself to pull away from Mikko. The heat that had been bubbling inside of you surges at the sight of JT standing in front of the corner booth table, his heavy stare dancing over your body perched on your boyfriend’s lap.

“You’re always welcome to join.”

If it was any other night, if it was any other person, if the previous ten minutes hadn’t already happened, your words would be a slip of the tongue; a poorly worded invitation for JT join the two of you in the cushioned booth. Any potential innuendo that could be attached would have been laughed off with a small chuckle and an embarrassed heat in your cheeks. But tonight… the only warmth that thrummed in your body was miles south of your face. You can see one of JT’s eyebrows jump up along with one of the corners of his mouth.

“Am I?” he asks, his eyes darting to Mikko.

“Like you don’t want to J,” Mikko chuckles, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Acting like you didn’t tell me she’d never leave your bed if you had her.”

Every piece of information that casually falls from your boyfriend’s mouth has your mind spinning, your own head tilting in curiosity.

“When was this?”

“Last year,” JT replies, finally sitting down, his jeans scratching against the cracked leather as he scoots in, his body crowding your space. “When you showed up at the gala in that silk dress. How Mikko let you out of the house, I don’t even know.”

“Like to show my girl off,” comes your boyfriend’s reply and you just know his lips are twisted into that cocky grin. “Share her with the world. With my teammates.”

It’s a verbal sparring of subtle innuendos and insinuations. JT’s brown eyes, now appearing even darker than normal – a combination of the low light of the bar and the desire that was barely hidden – flit back to meet your gaze.

“What about former teammates?”

The question hangs in the air, directed to both you and Mikko even though JT’s eyes never leave yours. He must’ve been able to sense that this craving was entirely yours and Mikko was just along for the ride. That assumption is only encouraged by the feeling of Mikko nuzzling into your hair, his voice a quiet whisper heard only to you.

“Go on, kulta. Tell Comph how much you’ve wanted him.”

The shiver runs through you – one of not only desire at Mikko’s quiet demand, but one of appreciation for the man holding you. The only man that you ever thought about spending your life with, something he knew – probably one of the reasons he was comfortable sharing you with his friends.

“If it were up to us, you’d already be in our bed,” you reply. Your words make it clear that you were still Mikko’s girl; that your lust for JT didn’t outweigh your love for your boyfriend.

You can see JT’s eyes flick over to Mikko and you once again intrinsically know the expression on his face, the seductive eyes that he is directing towards the redhead. If there was any shock, JT masks it well, his gaze returning to you with a small grin.

“Isn’t it? Up to you, I mean.”

“Are you that ready to be our plaything, Compher?” Mikko quips, his own desires getting bolder the longer the conversation goes. JT chuckles with him, undeterred.

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

If you thought the fire within you was blazing before, now it was scorching. JT’s deference to the two of you, his intrinsic understanding that he was the outsider in this situation, his willingness to submit, his crystal-clear desire that he wanted you in whatever way he was allowed to have you… it made you weak.

“This is supposed to be your homecoming present J,” you murmur, finally offering up the proposal Mikko suggested moments ago directly to him. “You sure you don’t want to call the shots?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” JT replies and you must restrain yourself from crawling off your boyfriend’s lap and into his, kissing him in full view of the bar and the rest of the Avalanche players.

“In that case,” you start to say, elongating the syllables as you glance back to Mikko, his blue eyes sparkling with a mischief that is surely reflected in yours. That devious smirk reappears on your face as you return your gaze to JT. “Do you remember our address? Or do you need a reminder?”

“I think I got it but maybe a text just in case. Definitely wouldn’t want to get lost and miss out.”

“We wouldn’t want you that either.”

The remainder of your time at the bar is a somewhat successful attempt at acting like it was the end of any other night out. The calm removal of your body from Mikko’s lap and all three of your bodies from the booth, the quiet departure of you and Mikko, unnoticed by everyone with the exception of JT, who had returned to the small group of Avs players under the guise of wishing them goodnight so he could return to the hotel before Detroit’s lights-out curfew – a curfew that wasn’t enforced until much later.

The instant you and Mikko are secure in his car, you lean over the center console and bring his lips to meet yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back until you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Anything for you, rakkaani.”

You sink back into the passenger seat, Mikko’s hand finding its usual place on your thigh as he drives down the Denver streets. The ride home is filled with the ambient noises of the city as well as a quiet discussion of how the night would go; what you wanted out of it, what he wanted, what JT would be comfortable with. The conversation lulls, the barebone framework of a plan in both of your minds.

It is in that silence that Mikko’s hand slowly starts to caress your leg, tracing the seam on the inside of your thigh higher, chuckling at the way you shift in your seat, impatient. Finally, the two of you come to a stop in the driveway and it is a scramble out of the car and through the front door, leaving the deadbolt undone for JT later.

Mikko wastes no time pulling you up the stairs and into the bedroom, his large hands cupping your face to kiss you again. Your body goes lax in his hold, hands reaching over his broad shoulders, twisting into the soft cotton of his shirt. Mikko’s lips trail down across your jawline and onto the soft skin of your neck, busying himself by sucking a mark into your skin. You are content to lean your head back and let him claim you, your only sounds contented sighs. That is, until Mikko’s hands deftly undo your jeans and slip under the waistband of your underwear. A soft moan falls from you as his fingers trace your slit and you can feel his chuckle against your skin as he finds you wet and wanting.

“That desperate for someone else?” he quietly teases. “My little kisu.”

It is hard for you to give a solid response; partially because of how amazing Mikko’s movements felt against you and partially because well… he wasn’t wrong. The fact that in a few minutes, your fantasy of sharing a bed with JT Compher would be coming true just made that fire in you roar stronger.

“How’d I get so lucky to have such a dirty girl all to myself?”

It’s that subtle confirmation that he was enjoying this just as much as you that made you pull away from him, his hands retreating as yours tug the material of his shirt over his head. He helps expose his bare skin to you, the sight of his sculpted body never failing to make you weak. Mikko’s hands quickly return to you, mirroring your movements by pulling your top off your body, revealing the dark red lace stretched across your chest.

“Did you think this would happen when you picked out this set?” Mikko questions, his hands tracing your sides to help tug down your jeans, the matching underwear snug against your hips.

“Planned on having you tonight,” you say, stepping forward, your fingers deftly come to rest on the front of his pants. “J’s just a pleasant addition.”

A grin stretches across Mikko’s face before he pulls you back to his lips. Your hands now blindly undo the clasp of his jeans, your fingers twisting into both waistbands as you pull at the material, leaving him naked. It is instinctive, the way you reach for your boyfriend, Mikko moaning at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly.

“Kisu, need your mouth,” he groans and you smile, never tiring of the way you can make your 6-foot-4 boyfriend beg for you.

You gladly sink to your knees on the plush carpet, eyes bright as you look up at Mikko, hand still wrapped around the thickness of him. Your lips press against his thighs, working kisses up the skin. Your mouth briefly suckles his balls, feeling them tighten against your tongue before you slide your lips along the length of him. Mikko’s fingers comb through your hair, gathering the strands into a makeshift ponytail as finally wrap your lips around him.

“Perkele, always so good for me,” Mikko groans above you and you take more of him into the wet cavern of your mouth, tongue slowly tracing along every vein, moaning at the taste. You bob your head, relishing in the sound of Finnish curses falling from his lips.

“Fuck.”

A new voice sounds out and your eyes slide over to see JT standing in the doorway.

“Not sure what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” he chuckles, the initial shock fading from his face as he steps deeper into the room. “Guess I took a little too long.”

“Nah, she’s just a desperate little slut,” Mikko replies, encouraging you to continue your movements against him. “Aren’t you, kisu?”

The question – along with the sight of JT now standing next to your boyfriend, his own dark eyes staring down at you – makes another rush of arousal flow between your thighs. Your only response is to stretch your mouth to accommodate more of Mikko, his head falling back as JT’s lips twitch in a smile.

“Look so good like this, baby,” JT whispers, crouching next to you, his hand tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, thumb brushing the mascara-stained tears off your cheek. “D’you like having your face stuffed with cock?”

“Why don’t you find out, Comph?”

JT moves out of your line of sight but you can still feel the heat from his body circling you. His hands find your hips and you can’t stop the way they roll as your back connects with JT’s chest. You moan when you feel his own erection against your ass, his hands trailing down in between your thighs. A soft moan falls from JT as he feels the ruined material of your panties, your arousal continuing to flood the fabric as he presses his fingers against you, your movements against Mikko faltering.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he whispers, the hand between your thighs disappearing, coming to trace up your body, cupping your breast, fingers teasing your nipples through the lace.

“Told you. My girl gets so turned on from sucking dick,” Mikko murmurs, his blue eyes looking down at you with filthy admiration.

You whine, their words making you even more desperate, one of JT’s hands coming to rest on your neck. Your movements against Mikko finally stall as JT’s lips connect to the column of your throat, sucking an identical mark next to the one your boyfriend had previously left. There is a gentle tug on your hair, calling your attention back to the man standing above you.

“Need me to take over?”

You hum an affirmative, your jaw going slack as you hold yourself still – a little difficult considering the heat of JT behind you, his lips now peppering kisses against your shoulders. With a quick blink up at Mikko, you let him slide deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, Rants,” JT groans against your skin. “Can feel you in her throat.” His words are accompanied by a soft press against your neck, increasing the tightness around Mikko, making a loud moan fall from your boyfriend.

“Niin vitun hyvä,” Mikko mutters.

Your eyes stay connected with his blue ones, his hips lightly thrusting. You feel JT’s chin come to rest on your shoulder, his own gaze lifting to meet Mikko’s as his hand once again pushes on your throat. Mikko’s cock hardens in your mouth at both the sensation and the sight of two pairs of doe eyes looking up at him.

Another almost growled curse falls from your boyfriend’s lips before he pulls back, the sudden absence of him making the saliva and precum flow. You lick the remnants off your own swollen lips with a sigh as your body leans back against JT.

“She’s all yours, Comph.”

“Finally,” JT murmurs, his fingers reaching to turn your head to him, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss.

The mutual moans fall from both of you in response to finally tasting the other. Your hand finds the nape of JT’s neck, pressing him closer as you deepen the kiss, tongue gliding against his. JT’s other hand pulls your hips back, moaning into your open mouth as you grind on his still confined length.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” JT asks, breaking the kiss to thrust against you again, pulling another whine from your lips. “How long have you been wanting this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. A while?”

You couldn’t quite remember when you started to view JT as something more than your boyfriend’s teammate, when your platonic glances took on a more carnal energy.

“Still can’t believe this is happening,” you continue, voicing your disbelief. “It’s surprising.”

“Surprising that I wanted this too or surprising that it took this long to admit it?”

“A little bit of both,” you reply, your gaze dropping to his lips before looking back into his eyes. “Imagine the fun we could’ve had if we had a whole season together instead of two days.”

There is no subtlety in the way JT’s irises darken in response to your words and you swear you can see every filthy image that passes through his mind at the prospect of sharing you for more than a single night.

“It’s a shame.”

“It is a shame,” he agrees. “Guess that means I’ll have to make the most of my homecoming present.”

“I guess you will,” you whisper, lifting your head to kiss him again.

The two of you stay there for a brief moment; kneeling on the carpet, pressed against each other, bodies writhing, soft moans and whines filling the bedroom. JT eventually breaks the kiss, forehead pressing against yours as those deep brown eyes capture you in his stare.

“Can I feel that talented mouth of yours?”

Your own eyes sparkle, a smirk appears on your lips with ease. There was nothing you wanted more than to feel the weight of him on your tongue – something you were sure he knew. Yet here he was, asking anyway. What a gentleman.

“Take off those clothes and get on the bed, then you will.”

JT kisses you once more time before pulling away, following your directions. The absence of his warmth makes you pout but that disappointment is quickly extinguished when you spin on your knees to watch him strip. Your eyes stay pinned to his body, relishing in the sight of his exposed skin – a sight that you only ever imagined.

You were lucky to say that your imagination didn’t come close to reality.

His ivory pale skin a delicious contrast to the fire red of his hair and beard. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, a testament to his profession. The light smattering of hair across his chest and down his stomach, your gaze following its trail. The moan that falls from you is desperate when he takes off his pants and boxers, his hard length slapping up against his abdomen.

“Like what you see, kisu?” you hear your boyfriend ask from somewhere behind you. You glance back to find him sitting in the armchair in the bedroom corner, a hand around his cock.

“He’s so pretty, Mikko,” you reply, the words twinged with desire. Mikko just chuckles, his eyes lifting from your frame to JT’s, his own gaze raking across his former teammate’s naked form.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Your eager eyes reconnect to JT and you can see the shiver that runs through him, pinned under both of your hungry gazes.

“Fuck, you two are going to be the death of me.”

“Get on the bed, baby,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

No more encouragement is need as JT quickly climbs onto the still-made bed, resting against the pillows before his eyes return to you. You unfold yourself from your kneeling position, now standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. The power you feel, the desire that thrums through you at the sight of JT patiently waiting for you makes you wicked. You decide to tease him more, your hands reaching behind your back and undoing the clasp of your bra. The material falls from your chest and you feel irresistible when you hear two different moans fill the room – one from someone who has seen you naked a hundred times and the other from someone who was seeing you for the first time.

You step forward, crawling on top of the mattress, your knees sinking in the plush sheets. Your siren eyes look up to JT as you move closer between his spread legs.

The sight of him makes your desire swell, a carnal need to taste his skin appearing. You lean down, following a similar path up his thighs as you did Mikko’s a few moments ago. Your lips move to his hipbones, kissing the taut skin there before following the cut of his body, JT’s stomach contracting every so often in response to your soft touch. You soon reach the base of him, your tongue darting out to lick his silken skin. A moan sounds from above you, encouraging you to drag up his length to the tip of him.

You see JT’s hands bury themselves into the sheets, his chest already heaving as he looks down at you. You take pity, closing your mouth around him, moaning at the taste of him against your tongue. It’s intoxicating and you don’t stop yourself from sinking further down, JT’s moans and soft grunts encouraging you to take him deeper.

“Fuck. God, you’re so good – she’s so good, Rants,” JT whines as you work your tongue against him, swallowing him inch by inch. You hear your boyfriend’s soft chuckle from somewhere behind you and it’s only a moment until you feel his hands on your hips, toying with the waistband of your underwear.

“Yes, she is,” Mikko practically growls, fingers twisting around the lace and dragging the material down your thighs. You moan against JT when the cool air of the bedroom hits your molten core, the whines only increasing when you feel Mikko’s lips trace over the curve of your ass to the place where the muscle meets your thigh.

Your focus on JT wavers when Mikko’s large hands pull at the globes of your ass, spreading you open and you hear him moan at the sight of your soaked pussy. Mikko doesn’t hesitate, diving into your core, his lips working against you. You have to take a few deep – albeit ragged – breaths before turning your attention back to JT, wanting to make him feel good.

It was his homecoming after all.

Mikko doesn’t make it easy, his tongue alternating between plunging into your heat and flicking your clit, muffled whines escaping you. His hand once again gropes your ass, opening you more and you can feel the electric shiver run down your spine as his tongue trails up, past your core, against the small strip of sensitive skin before circling your puckered hole.

You remove your lips from JT’s cock to let out a loud unbridled moan. You look back, eyes connecting with Mikko’s baby blues, your hips rocking as he eats your ass, one hand lifting to press against your core, not neglected for a moment.

“Sweetheart,” JT calls out, your gaze returning to him. “Don’t stop, please.”

You nod softly, little whimpers and whines still falling from you as Mikko continues his ministrations. The sensation steals all your attention and that realization causes you to reach out for one of JT’s hands, practically prying it from the sheets and guiding it to your head. You preen when JT’s fingers burrow into your hair, gently taking hold and pulling your mouth back onto his hard cock. You hum appreciatively as JT’s hips gently pulse, thrusting into your mouth.

A soft sigh escapes as you let yourself relish in the sensations at each end of your body. You trace every inch of JT in your mouth while your hips move against Mikko’s tongue still buried in your ass, his fingers caressing your soaked core. Above you, JT’s moans increase and underneath you, you can feel his rhythm falter. His stuttered sounds call Mikko’s attention, his lips disappearing from you.

“Gonna cum in that sweet mouth, Comph?” he asks, his voice heavy. JT’s only response is a strangled moan, his hand twisting deeper into your hair. “Go on. She wants it. Don’t you, kisu?”

Mikko’s question is punctuated with the press of his fingers plunging into your core. You moan, your eyes darting up to meet JT’s, hoping that your silent plea is understood. JT reads you with ease, even after only a few minutes of having you in bed. His movements increase, fucking your face as his head falls against the pillows. It is only a moment before he stills, holding you in place as his release hits the back of your throat. You gag lightly, his dick twitching in your mouth as his grip goes lax. You slide your lips against him, cleaning any remnants from his skin before remove yourself from him, eyes flicking up to see his brown irises trained on you.

A soft smile appears on your face before your mouth falls open in a gasp, Mikko’s fingers still buried inside you, thumb coming to press against your clit.

“You get so wet from being a good little slut,” he mutters, his hand working against you, forcing more of those delectable sounds from you. Your head falls to rest on the top of JT’s thigh, your body rolling.

“Please, Mikko, want your mouth back on me,” you whine, one of your hands reaching back to spread yourself open, an emphasis to your plea. Mikko’s response is a dark chuckle, fingers curling inside your core, causing your walls to flutter.

“Keep your eyes on Comph, sweet girl. Show him how pretty you look when you cum.”

That demand is all Mikko says before his mouth returns to your ass. It takes all your will-power to keep your eyes open and locked on JT as the dual sensations of Miko’s tongue and fingers pull you closer to the edge. JT just watches you; the way your body writhes, the way your mouth falls open, your tongue occasionally flicking over your lips as you whine.

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

You respond with a small nod, another whine falling from you. JT brushes the side of your face, his hand trailing down from your temple, across your jaw until his thumb presses against your plush bottom lip. You easily take the digit into your mouth, noticing the way JT’s eyes darken, his dick twitching with renewed interest.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, sweetheart. Want to see it.”

JT’s quiet demand is all it takes for you to fall over that peak, your eyes finally closing as the warmth explodes from your core, the energy of your orgasm thrumming through your entire body. You can faintly hear Mikko moan, his tongue trailing down to your core to drink the sweet nectar of you.

“Such a good girl,” Mikko mutters, pressing a kiss against the base of your spine as JT removes his finger from between your lips.

Your body warms with his praise, your eyes fluttering open. The first sight you see is JT above you, his stomach clenching as he holds himself upright. Your eyes quickly dart to his length, semi-hard. Without hesitation you to reach up and grip him, your hand sliding with ease over the saliva-soaked skin. JT moans, his cock hardening again in response to your movements.

“Want his dick that bad, huh?” Mikko questions, his hand caressing the outside of your thigh and your gaze darts back to meet his blue eyes.

“Can I have it?”

“Like you have to ask,” he chuckles in response. His fingers trail down, hooking the underwear still resting in the crook of your knees. He carefully slips them off your body as he departs from the bed. “Why don’t you show J how pretty you look riding cock? What d’you say, Comph? You’d like that?”

“Fuck yes,” comes his desperate reply, your hand still working against him, a laugh falling from you and Mikko.

“Go on then, mirri. Take what you want.”

You don’t need any more coaxing, hand falling from JT as you crawl higher up on the mattress, one leg swinging over his body to straddle him. You lean down to kiss him, your hair creating a curtain your faces. JT happily accepts the kiss, moaning at the lingering taste of him in your mouth. Your hips roll, the sensation of your soaked folds gliding against him causing another moan to emanate from his chest. You movements continue until his dick is once again rigid underneath you. You tear away from the kiss, lifting your torso up, hands finding the sturdy planes of his chest.

JT simply looks up at you, pupils blown wide at the sight of you hovering above him. One of your hands traces down his body until you reach his cock. You gently grasp him, stroking him a few more times, spreading your arousal against his skin. JT’s hands find your hips, lifting and holding you steady as you align his length with your center.

The mutual moans that fall as you lower yourself onto him sound like something straight out of a porno. Your eyes roll back, chest heaving as JT sinks deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt.

“Shit, sweetheart. So fucking tight. So wet,” JT mutters from below you, his grip tightening so much that you’re concerned there might be bruises the next day. “God, Mik. Don’t know how you manage to leave this sweet pussy.”

“Knowing I get to come home to it every night helps,” Mikko replies, his quiet claim of you making your walls flutter around JT.

The two of you still, deeply breathing, memorizing every sensation, knowing that this might never happen again. The realization of limited time must hit JT because his hands start to pull at your hips, guiding you to grind against his cock. You follow his movements, gliding along his length, soft gasps falling from your lips at ever stroke of JT within you.

“You’re right, Mikko. She looks so fucking good riding me,” JT mutters, addressing your boyfriend who lingers at the edge of the bed.

“One of my favorite positions to have her in.”

The praise falling from both of their mouths encourages you more, your body moving in a more feverish pace. You lean your body back, hands switching from JT’s chest to his thighs, using that leverage to lift your hips. The new angle gives JT a clear line of sight and you hear his moan as he watches his length disappear into your center.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking perfect cunt taking all of me,” he groans, his hands lifting from your hips to your chest, fingers teasing your nipples causing more moans to escape you.

You are so caught up in JT – the feeling of him inside you, the lingering taste of him on your tongue, the heat radiating from his body – that you almost lose track of what your boyfriend is doing. That is, until you feel the mattress shift under the weight of another body. You hear the bedsprings creak as Mikko appears behind you, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Look at you, kisu. Being such a good girl for Comph.”

Your only reply is to press your lips against his, having been deprived of his kisses for far too long. Mikko kisses you back just as fiercely, his hand coming to rest on the hollows of your collarbone. You can faintly hear JT curse underneath you as he pauses your movements, holding your hips still.

Mikko breaks away from you and you whine at the loss of both sensations. Mikko only smiles, his hand moving to your shoulder before he gently presses your body forward. You let him guide you folding yourself over JT’s body until your chests are pressed together. The proximity means that you trade Mikko’s lips for JT’s, an exchange that both you and he gladly accept.

You let yourself be engulfed in JT’S cinnamon whiskey taste and his scorching warmth. Faintly, you hear the click of a cap behind you and feel one of Mikko’s hands trace the curve of your spine. Another shift of the mattress, and you unabashedly moan into JT’s mouth when you feel the coolness of Mikko’s now lubricated fingers dipping between your ass cheeks.

“You want it, kisu?”

“Yes,” you whine, the single syllable word elongated in need. “Please, Mikko. Please.”

“Hold her still, Comph.”

JT follows your boyfriend’s orders, keeping his hold around your hips tight as Mikko’s fingers circle the ring of your ass, the skin now slick with saliva, your own arousal, and lube. When he deems you ready, the tip of his index finger presses into you. You moan, breaths becoming more rapid which JT notices. His lips connect to your neck to relax you, no doubt being able to feel your pulse jumping underneath your skin.

“Good, kulta?”

You can only nod frantically, the sensation driving you insane. Mikko chuckles, returning to slowly work you open, gently thrusting his hand until another finger slips in. The curse and whimpers fall from your lips freely at the dual sensation of Mikko in your ass and JT still seated deeply in your pussy. It is so much… and yet at the same time, not enough.

Your hands card through JT’s hair, pulling him away from the column of your throat, his dark eyes reconnecting with your lust-blown pupils.

“Move, J. Please.”

You see the barest nod of JT’s head before he is readjusting his hold on you, softly and slowly thrusting his hips up to meet yours. There is no stopping the downright pornographic moans that fall from you at the sensation of being stuffed to the brim by two absolutely beautiful humans. It makes your eyes roll back, your body tremble, your pussy flood. And when Mikko manages to slip a third finger past the rim of you, you shriek, your orgasm hitting you with the force of an oncoming train. Your whole body stills, eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide as you let the waves of pleasure rush through you, groans emanating from both men at the feeling of both holes clenching.

“God damn,” JT curses. “Didn’t think this cunt could get any tighter. Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Y’gonna flood that cunt, J?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you back, his question making a new wave of heat flow through your already molten veins. You blindly start to press kisses against the column of JT’s throat, working your way up until your lips hover at the shell of his ear.

“Please. Wanna feel you. Wanna filled with you.”

Your desperate pleas make JT’s hips thrust a little faster, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your body go lax. Mikko’s hand disappears from your ass, his other hand coming to gently wrap around your throat, pulling your body upright. You gladly let yourself be manipulated, gladly drink in the sight of JT below you: his brow furrowed, his pink lips swollen from your kisses, his pale skin marked with the love bites that you had left.

You hear JT’s breath hitch in his throat, his head being tossed back against the pillows and you whine at the feeling of his warmth spilling into you. Mikko swallows your noises by kissing you, his hand staying against your throat. A possessive necklace, a reminder that just because he let JT have you, you were still his. A fact that you would never deny.

The two of you eventually break away from the each other, eyes darting down to the redhead still left panting on the mattress.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps and you let a soft giggle escape you at his exclamation.

Mikko’s hands depart from your body, his weight departing from the mattress at the same time. The lack of support causes your fall, coming to rest on the sheets beside JT, his brown eyes gazing at you, hand gently stroking the outside of your thigh.

“You are so… amazing. You know that?”

“Wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you tease, JT’s own grin appearing in response to yours. He leans in to kiss you, his movements now softer and gentler than all the previous and you can’t help the way you melt into him. A different pair of calloused fingertips appear on your skin and you pull away from JT to see your boyfriend standing over you. His hand dips between your thighs, a simultaneous moan coming from you at the feeling of your soaked core, JT’s cum falling from your folds.

“Want more, kisu?”

“Always.” 

“So needy. Ready to spread those legs open for anyone.”

“As long as I get to have you too,” you whine, Mikko’s fingers still softly tracing your pussy. Mikko leans down, his large body hovering over you as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

“You’ll always have me, rakkaani.”

The quiet testament warms you from the inside out and you feel his arms slide against your skin, one slipping under your thighs, the other under your waist. You gasp as he uses his impressive strength to lift you off the mattress, your own arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers teasing his golden curls. Mikko walks across the plush carpet before sinking back into the armchair, gently manipulating your body so your back is once again pressed against his chest.

You moan as his strong hands toss your thighs over each of his own legs, spreading you open, putting you on display. Your ass presses against the hardness of him and you shiver in anticipation when you realize what’s coming. Mikko’s hand – the one that had not been previously buried in your ass – traces down your body, coming to dance over your cunt, groaning at the ease in which his skin slips against yours.

“How does she look, Comph?”

The name draws your attention back to the bed, JT now sitting upright, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“So pretty. Love seeing that cunt drip.”

His vulgar words cause your pussy to clench, no doubt making more of your arousal and JT’s previous release seep from you. Mikko moans at the sensation of it on his fingers, gently guiding the moisture downwards.

“Ready to show J how good you can be?” Mikko mutters, his words just loud enough for JT to hear.

You watch as his eyes follow the path of your boyfriend’s fingers, his eyebrows jumping when the implication hits him. You nod your head, your own hand reaching between your thighs as Mikko lifts you up. It’s easy to find and wrap your hand around Mikko’s already slick length, holding it steady as he spreads you open, lining up before gently pressing into you. Your whole body shudders at the sensation of him sinking into you, his gentle voice reminding you to breathe. You follow his commands, forcing yourself to relax as you stretch to accommodate his considerable length, your eyes rolling back. Eventually, Mikko stills, fully sheathed inside of you, hips flush against your ass as your core clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, I can see why you wanted to keep her to yourself,” JT curses.

“Gonna be thinking about this tomorrow night during the game?” Mikko teases, the traded quips allowing you time to get used to the feeling of him seated deep within you.

“Don’t know how I’ll be able to think about anything else.”

You feel Mikko bury his face in your hair, hot breath hitting your skin, his next words for only you to hear.

“That’s the whole idea.”

A quick huff of laugher escapes you, your boyfriend’s competitive nature coming forward. You both loved JT but he was indeed the enemy now.

You turn your head to mouth at Mikko’s neck, muttering a quiet plea into his skin – one that Mikko hears and responds to immediately. His hands grip the back of your thighs, slightly lifting your hips as his own start to gently pulse. Your moans echo around the bedroom, every press of Mikko within you causing your core to clench, more arousal spilling from you, additional lubricant for the obscene show. Your gaze catches JT’s stare fixed on where you and Mikko are connected, watching intently like this was something out of porno – one meant just for him. Which, in a way, it was.

You whine, hand reaching out to JT. This was his homecoming after all and although you were sure he loved the view, you didn’t want him to feel left out. JT slides off the bed and walks over, his lithe frame standing in front of you.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the redhead murmurs, his hands dancing across your chest. Mikko’s teeth gently graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“He’s right, kisu. You’re always so good for me, so perfect.”

Their praise makes you moan. JT’s fingertips tracing down your body and eventually connecting to your soaked core makes you gasp.

His calloused skin collects your slick before slowly pushing into your core, moaning at the tightness of you around his fingers. Your hand shoots out, holding his wrist in an almost vice-like grip. You aren’t quite sure whether you mean to push him away, on the verge of overstimulation, or encourage him to keep going. But when you open your eyes and see those deep chocolate brown pools staring at you, you tug his wrist forward. A silent encouragement.

JT leans down, pressing his lips against yours as his fingers gently curl within you, your moans falling into his open mouth as he swallows every sound. Mikko’s breath is still hot against your skin, Finnish praise and guttural groans falling from his lips as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm increasing. Your free hand comes to tangle in his blonde curls, holding him against your neck while your other hand releases JT’s wrist, reaching further. You finally manage to grab a hold of his cock, a hiss falling from JT as you softly stroke the skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines against your lips, seemingly on the verge of overstimulation himself.

“Please J, just one more. Let me take care of you, please.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your gentle words or your movements against his erection that causes JT to nod, letting you toy with him as he continues the movement of his fingers inside you. You recapture his lips in yours, your attention torn between your boyfriend’s hands on your skin, his cock stuffed in your ass, and JT’s hand pressed against your core. The ginger doesn’t seem to mind your sloppy handjob, moaning into your mouth anyway as you kiss him.

It isn’t long until Mikko’s grip adjusts, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you impossibly closer to him as his hips find an almost brutish pace, gasps and whimpers falling freely from your lips. JT gently removes his hand from your core before gently knocking your hand away from him. He takes a single step back, eyes returning to drink in the sight of both you and Mikko as your head lolls, your third orgasm of the night fast approaching. It only takes a few more pulses of Mikko’s hips before he falters, his teeth digging into the flesh of your shoulder as his orgasm hits him. The sharp sensation of his teeth coupled with the warmth of his release spilling into your ass causes you to cum. Every muscle in your body clenches, from your jaw down to between your thighs as the waves of pleasure roll over you.

Eventually, the intensity subsides, your thighs pleasantly shaking as your staccato breathing slows. Your eyes open to see JT still standing in front of you, his own hand now pumping his length. You smile up at him, sighing when you feel Mikko’s tongue laving over the indents that his teeth left in your skin, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your hipbones.

“JT, please,” you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your previous moans. “Want you to come. Wanna feel you on my skin.”

That seems to be all the encouragement JT needs, his hand now moving faster, small hisses and groans falling from his lips. He leans over you and Mikko, his free hand gripping the back of the chair to hold himself steady, eyes closing in overstimulated pleasure. You reach your hand upwards, cupping his jaw, your gentle touch drawing his gaze to you. You let your fingers brush through his beard, a small part of you wondering how pretty it would look drenched in your release. Your thumb moves to his mouth, pink and swollen from your previous kisses. A soft press against his plush bottom lip makes JT’s mouth fall open. You smile, softly guiding your thumb in, pressing against the firm muscle of his tongue.

“Perkele,” you hear Mikko curse from behind you and watch those brown eyes dart over towards your boyfriend, no doubt staring at JT like he was a meal. There’s no telling if your finger in his mouth or Mikko’s gaze is the final nail in the coffin but you find that you don’t care when JT’s eyes clench shut, gasps falling from him as you feel the warmth of him splattering against your stomach.

JT comes down, his chest heaving as he finds the strength to lift himself upright, your hand falling from his mouth as his eyes take in the sight of his cum on your skin. You smile, fingers still wet from his spit as you trace up your stomach, collecting the creamy release before lifting your hand to dip into your own mouth. A moan falls from you at the now familiar taste of JT against your tongue as you lick them clean.

“Does he taste good, kisu?” Mikko asks and you turn your head to stare into his blue eyes.

“Mmhmm. You wanna taste?”

Your boyfriend nods his head and your fingers dip down to once again collect JT’s cum. This time however, you hold out your lifted hand towards Mikko, who gladly takes you into his mouth. A moan falls from him as he suckles your fingers, his own tongue dancing over every inch of skin.

“You two are going to be the death me.”

You giggle at JT’s words, a repetition of the statement he spoke earlier, your gaze and hand falling from Mikko. Your eyes leap up to meet JT’s, his own head slightly shaking in disbelief, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

“Welcome back to Denver.”

“Best fucking homecoming I could’ve asked for.”

Translations (from Reddit & Google) Kisu/mirri: kitten [used for very sexy women] Kulta: baby/honey Rakkaani: my darling Perkele: shit/fuck Niin vitun hyvä: so fucking good

author's note: here it is. finally. my sister fic to @comphy-and-cozy's fic Homecoming: Crush. (which if you haven't already read it, go do that.) so much credit goes to her, from this beautiful header to the entire concept of this fic. i was just lucky that she dropped it in my askbox one night and it infected my brain as well.

taglist: @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @svexhenthusiast

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[jtl07]

jt hope you’re doing well! so happy to see you back at it again and absolutely spoiling us with these shenanigans!

as someone who did MMA a few years ago, you are absolutely reigniting my appreciation for it. i did a mix of BJJ, judo and muay thai, so i am absolutely GEEKING OUT with these shenanigans! though by the sounds of it, i think you’d definitely obliterate me in a spar lol i have much respect for you🧎🏻‍♀️

since you’ve pretty much covered all the moves i would’ve requested for, my martial arts prompt is bea and ava as teachers in a dojo for kids and bea is performing a demonstration on ava (go nuts with them kids 🤭)

holy shit no way, that's so cool! there are days i miss muay thai a lot (not so much the getting punched in the face tho lol). love this idea of Beatrice and Ava as teachers and creating a fun, safe space for kids to learn martial arts <3

thanks to everyone for supporting martial arts/action week! spicy stuff coming tomorrow 👀

Lucas' partner for this round is a tall blue belt two years older than him who smiles even when he messes up the footwork for the fifth time in a row. "It's all right," Rena murmurs but Lucas can't help but feel like he's just letting her down, convinced that he's not at all moving like a 10-year old with an orange belt should be.

His stomach drops further when the head instructor appears beside them.

Lucas holds his breath but to his surprise, sensei - Beatrice, he corrects in his mind - doesn't scold him, doesn't make him take laps around the dojo. She simply takes him through the steps several more times, patient and encouraging until he finally gets it right.

"It's much harder to come from a school that does a different style," Beatrice says in that calm way of hers. "You're doing great." She leaves with a smile and Rena beams at him, making Lucas duck his head, a little flustered and a lot bewildered. Wonders: Was aikido always this …kind?

A set of claps resound through the space and Lucas at least knows this: bowing to his partner, joining the seated line to await further instruction.

"Since we have a bit of an advanced group today, let's do something a bit different." Lucas straightens a bit, both proud and surprised to be counted as advanced.

She talks briefly about exploring the concept of kuzushi. "It's often translated as 'unbalancing,' but personally I think 'breaking balance' is a bit more apt," she says thoughtfully. Lucas wonders just how much she knows; she might just be the smartest person he's ever known. "You don't want to just make the other person unstable, you want to take the other person's balance to where they can't do anything back."

Beatrice nods to the assistant instructor - Ava, his memory supplies - and simply holds out her hand. Ava's eyebrow twitches with a look that reminds Lucas of the unimpressed face his older sister sometimes gets before she moves forward.

Ava, Lucas, realizes, is good. Very good, considering that in the span of the first few seconds, he can count nearly half a dozen times where she should have been thrown but somehow recovered. They move around each other like water, flowing together in ever-moving spirals across the mat, shifting through one technique to another so smoothly that it leaves Lucas with his mouth agape.

It's not even that fast, but it's so different from all the other randori he's seen before. It's only when Ava's finally thrown, when she rolls back up to her feet with a grin that he realizes what the difference is: they were both having fun.

Lucas goes through the rest of class in a bit of a daze. He bows off the mat instinctively, reaches for his notebook but realizes he can't for the life of him remember the techniques they covered, his mind full of just how beautiful Beatrice and Ava's demonstration was, how much he hopes he can do aikido like they do.

He spots Beatrice and Ava talking off to the side and he approaches quietly, notebook in hand. Pauses when he overhears: "- to prove a point that I don't train aikido enough."

Beatrice shakes her head, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "I have nothing to prove, Ava."

Ava's grin turns mischievous. "You sure? I bet things would go differently if we went by BJJ rules."

Lucas pauses, unsure what she means. Finds himself fascinated by the way Beatrice simply raises an eyebrow and starts to take off her hakama.

"Oh this should be fun."

Lucas turns to see Rena at his side. "It's always fun when they do this."

They watch as Beatrice takes her time folding her hakama before facing Ava in the middle of the mat. "Ava said something about ... BJJ?" he asks hesitantly as they watch Beatrice and Ava circle each other.

Rena nods. "Brazilian jiu-jitsu. It's like judo but more grappling. Beatrice has a black belt in it."

Lucas' eyes widen. "She has two black belts?"

Rena grins, nods towards the mat - Lucas turns back around in time to see Ava grab Beatrice's lapel and turn sharply, leg kicking out between Beatrice's to send her over Ava's shoulder. Lucas gasps as Beatrice starts to flip over.

Only to do a cartwheel over Ava.

"Three," Rena laughs. "Beatrice is a black belt in judo too. Though, I think she might also have one in kendo, I can't remember -"

Lucas just hums, his attention trained completely on Beatrice and Ava now. They're moving faster than they were earlier, still flowing but sharper, more intent. At one point, Ava ducks low, shooting in so quickly that she's just a blur of motion as she picks up Beatrice off of her feet.

But Beatrice's placid expression doesn't change at all - she shifts as they land, palming the side of Ava's face as she starts to free herself from Ava's grasp. From the side, Lucas can hear Ava muttering things like, "Oh come on" and "that's not fair."

Beatrice, for her part, just chuckles.

Then suddenly, she frees her leg and flips herself around so that both legs have captured Ava's arm. Lucas isn't sure what's going on but Ava does, going by her panicked, "Oh no, not an omoplata…"

Ava grunts as she tries to buck and roll Beatrice off of her, but Beatrice just smiles calmly, stays attached and rides on top, like a surfer on a wave.

She reaches around Ava's neck and takes hold of the collar of her gi - which causes Ava to squawk indignantly, "That's not fair, you know I don't train in the gi."

Beatrice shrugs. "What is it you always say? Oh right: Sounds like a you problem."

Lucas hears Rena giggle from beside him as Beatrice slowly tightens her hold and Ava's face starts to turn red. She struggles for a moment more before sighing and tapping her hand on the mat.

Beatrice releases everything, unfurls with a grace that Lucas still can't believe is real. She pulls a grumbling but grinning Ava to her feet, tilts her head when she spots their audience.

Rena nudges Lucas as the pair approach. "So, what'd you think?"

Lucas blinks - twice, then twice more. "Can I learn BJJ too?"

Ava crows. "Got another one!"

Beatrice sighs but smiles. "I'll give you a pamphlet to share with your parents."

[comphy-and-cozy]

Revolving door - JT Compher

Pairing: JT Compher x Reader

Summary: JT Compher is no good for you. You know it, and though he might not admit it, so does he. But no matter how hard you try, you can't stop yourself from coming back to him every single time.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Toxic situationship, unrequited feelings, fuckboy JT. Smut (18+ ONLY). Oral sex (f + m receiving), unprotected sex.

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Your relationship with JT Compher is… messy. Not quite dating, but more than strictly fuck buddies. On paper, you’re his girlfriend; in reality, that word is completely absent from his vocabulary. Your sleepovers are regular, as are texts and phone calls, but you’ve yet to receive any outward or public indication that he knows you exist, minus your username appearing in his Following list.

In other words, a good old-fashioned situationship.

And just like most situationships, you’ve found yourself on the verge of falling in love with a man who can never, and will never, be truly yours. He’s kept you strung along, ambiguous enough that you can’t help but hang on tighter to hold out for that maybe soon, wistfully dreaming of the day that he’ll call it for what it is.

He doesn’t; he never does. Instead, you’re addicted to the rush of dopamine that hits you when he calls you “my girl”; he pulls the ring off your middle finger and slides it onto your ring finger like he wants to try out how it feels to do it, unaware of the way it tears your heart in two when he does. You can still feel the graze of his fingertips against yours, so much more intimate than all of the things you’ve done in the darkness of your bedroom in the middle of the night.

You can see the signs; you already know you’re probably too far gone. Which is why you need to tear out your own heart to cut it off now before things get worse.

Before you fall so far into the pit that you’ll never come out.

‘This is the last time, JT,’ is your reply to his text that he’s on his way over. It’s late—2am—but all things considered, this is a normal rendezvous time for your part-time house guest.

When you answer the soft knock at your door, he’s standing on your porch with his backpack slung over his shoulder, his phone held up in his hand. He’s wearing plane clothes and that soft, sort of sleepy look in his eyes he gets after a road trip.

“You said that last time,” he says, referencing your text before stepping over the threshold to your home. How many times have you let him through your door? 50? 100? 200? How many times have you stood exactly where you’re standing now, watching him set his bag on the floor while he kicks his shoes off?

“Well, I’m serious this time,” you reply, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t do this with you anymore. After tonight, I’m done.”

JT’s eyes train on you, his expression unreadable but his gaze heated. He steps forward, closing the gap between your bodies until his hands find their home on your hips. They’re warm, even through the cotton of your t-shirt, which he rucks up over your waist to grant his hands access to your backside, clad in only panties. He hums. “Then maybe you should stop answering the door in just these.”

Heat floods through you when his large hands grip at the globes of your ass, hungry. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth to stifle your moan, but he smirks knowingly anyways. No—you’re stronger than this. You can hold your ground: this is the last time.

“Maybe you should stop showing up on my door at 2 in the morning,” you manage to quip. You’re aware that the impact of your words is lessened by the fact that you’re still leading him up your stairs, flicking off the light in your living room as you do.

JT gives another assenting hum, tugging at your hand when you reach the top of the stairs to spin you around, crashing his lips against yours. You don’t have it in you to fight, not with how good he feels against you, the familiar plushness of his lips and the rough scratch of his beard against your chin. He kisses you fiercely, hands back on your hips as he guides you backward until you feel your spine bump against the wall. Trapped between it and his large frame, you’re helpless to give into the feel of his mouth, already tracking its path down the side of your neck to nip at the sensitive spot just above the fraying neckline of your t-shirt.

His hands join in his search, one trailing lower to return to your ass, the other slinking up to palm at your breast. You know he can feel your nipple against his skin; you’ll tell yourself it’s the fact that it’s the middle of the night in February, but you know it’s a lie.

A sigh falls out of your lips when he sinks to his knees, your breath hitching in your throat at the glint in his eyes when he looks up at you from between your legs. “The last time, Compher.”

JT smiles again, though this time you feel it against the inside of your thigh where he’s nuzzled against the sensitive skin. And again he repeats, “You said that the last time.”

He shifts to your other thigh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against it, never breaking eye contact. “And the time before that.”

He reaches the apex of your thighs, hot breath fanning over the damp material of your panties. Your breath catches, a whimper leaving your throat at his proximity to where you want him most. “And the time before that.”

“JT.” You’re not sure if it’s a warning or a plea, whispered when he drags the cotton over your hips and down your legs. You watch him gaze up at you, his big brown eyes seductive and sensual.

“Since it’s the last time, I better make it good then, hm?”

He knows he’s got you caught, tongue darting out to flick at your clit like a promise of what’s to come. You shiver, and he smirks in response. “Is that a yes, sweetheart?”

You bathe in the way sweetheart makes you feel, a melty sort of warmth that radiates between your thighs—he knows what he’s doing.

Knowing your voice will come out shaky, you take a deep breath in an attempt to regulate it. Apparently, you’re not fast enough, earning a gentle nip at the inside of your thigh.

When you do respond, your voice is far more desperate and breathy than you care to admit. “Y-yes. Please, JT.”

JT is nothing if not a tease, but he takes your plea seriously. His warm tongue flirts with your entrance, wet and weeping for him just the way he intended. This is what you’ll miss the most, what you’ll keep searching for long after he’s gone. It’s the same reason you always end up answering his text even after you’ve cut him out of your life; there is no one else who makes you feel the way that JT Compher does.

Almost as if he’s privy to your thoughts, to the yearning you feel in your chest, JT gives a long lick with a flattened tongue, pressing against your aching clit. A whine escapes your throat and your hand cards through his hair, flattened by the hat he threw on after his post-game shower. He hums—he likes it when you tug at his hair—and your fingers grip onto the strands, guiding him exactly where you want him.

“So sweet for me,” he murmurs against you, lapping up your arousal. “Always taste so fuckin’ good, baby. Could eat you all day.”

You smile. You know. You know because he has, an entire afternoon spent between your thighs, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you, until your body ached with exhaustion and pleasure.

JT’s lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the bud so that your hips writhe against him. He breathes out a chuckle, amused at your eagerness to ride his face; he lets you, wants you to take control of your pleasure. Your hips roll, rocking against his tongue, steady and insistent, aiding you patiently on your ascent. His breath is hot against you, hands reaching up underneath your shirt to palm at your breasts. The gentle, teasing rub of his fingers against your nipples makes you bow into him, pressing your clit against the flat of his tongue.

When your world explodes, his hands move to rest on the sides of your hips, holding you steady as the orgasm surges through you. He groans, drinking in the taste of your climax, pressing his face deeper into your center and you know his beard will be coated in you when he comes back up for air.

Brown eyes lock with yours and he rises to his feet without breaking eye contact with you. His hands return to their place on your hips, this time tugging them toward his own. You can feel the hardness in his joggers and a flare of the fire courses through your body again.

“C’mere,” he murmurs. His voice is husky, the way it always is after he gets to taste your arousal firsthand. You taste your release on his lips, embedded in the hairs of his mustache that tickle against your skin.

JT nudges your bedroom door open with his knee, unwilling to part from your lips to watch where he’s going. He’s memorized the route, knows exactly where to step to avoid bumping into your dresser. With practiced precision, he lays you back onto your mattress, his hand resting behind your head to ensure you have a soft landing. He leans over you, the shadows on your ceiling a familiar backdrop behind his head.

His smile is feline as he reaches up and tugs off his sweatshirt, then his t-shirt. Your gaze drops to his creamy skin, to the hair on his chest, smattered down the subtle cut of muscle along his abdomen. Your hand reaches out to graze against him, feeling the flesh beneath your fingertips, running over the lithe muscle.

“Not fair,” he huffs, reaching for the hem of your t-shirt—his t-shirt—and pulling it over your head. Hunger seeps into his dark eyes, roaming over your naked body like it’s the first time. Or the last time. “Fucking perfect, baby.”

There isn’t much left to say, nothing you really can say, so instead you focus on tugging the joggers down his hips. His length springs free, and while he shimmies the pants the remainder of the way down his legs, you scramble to your hands and knees, eager to get your mouth on him.

You love the sounds he makes, the groans and the sighs and the deep, lustful way he grunts out your name; it’s intoxicating, knowing that you can make him feel as good as he makes you feel, that you can reduce his smart mouth to a series of guttural sounds with only the power of your mouth.

“Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, tossing his head back when your tongue laps out against his balls—just the way he likes. You work your mouth over his length, gazing up at him while you let a drip of saliva drool from your mouth and onto his tip. He curses again, his tone approving in a way that makes your pussy throb. “That’s it. Just like that. Fuck, you’re so good at that, baby.”

You don’t have him in your mouth for nearly as long as you’d like, protesting even as he pulls himself out of your throat with a groan. “If this is the last time, I’m not going to come down your throat, as tempting as it is.”

His words send a flare of heat through your body, feeling a pulse between your thighs at the filthy promise. With a gentle nudge from him, you’re settling back against the mattress, his gaze pinning you in place. He glances down, between your thighs, at the wetness leaking from your folds.

“Dripping all for me?”

“Don’t tease me, Compher. Fuck me.”

JT smiles, amused at your bluntness. “Aren’t you gonna ask me nicely?”

“Who said I want to be nice?”

This time, he laughs, running a fist over his length in leisurely strokes. “I love it when you’re feisty, baby.”

You huff, eyes glued to the pretty pink flush of his head and the sheen your saliva gives the skin. “What does a girl gotta do to get some dick around here?”

“Alright, no need to beg,” he says with a shit-eating grin. He brushes at your clit with his tip, wiping the smirk off your face and replacing it with a sigh. “Like that?”

“More, J,” you whisper, no longer in the mood to banter now that he’s almost where you want him. You roll your hips to entice him, brushing yourself against him and sighing out a moan. “Please.”

He tsks. “Aw, now you’re asking nicely.”

The first press into you is always the best, that first initial stretch and fit of him snugly inside of you, like he was molded just for you—it’s sinfully, lasciviously delicious. And it’s your last time feeling it, so you’re going to cherish it.

You cry out when he bottoms out, his hips snug against the backs of your thighs. Strong arms bracket around your head and suddenly, he’s there, with his molten chocolate gaze and a smile on his lips, shrouded by an auburn beard. It’s your favorite length, full and thick but not overgrown; just enough to give you scratches between your thighs.

His mouth slots against yours, swallowing your sigh when his hips begin to move. He thrusts deep, slow, the kind that sucks the air from your lungs and leaves you scrambling for purchase on his shoulders. Though it earns him some chirps in the locker room, he likes when you leave scratches down his back; since it’s the last time, you’re determined to leave marks that will outlast his scent in your sheets.

“Never get tired of this pussy,” he murmurs, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “So tight. So wet. So hot. Every time I’m away I just think about how long it is until I can be back here, inside this perfect cunt.”

JT’s words make your heart soften and ache all at once. They’re the same honeyed praises he always uses, the ones that have watered the seeds of hope in your chest and given them just enough nourishment to sprout. You know he can’t give you what you want—what you really want from him—which is why you know you need to give him up like a bad habit.

So you savor it, savor him, relishing his musk and memorizing the low sounds of his groan in your ear while he moves over you; he’s practiced, steady, drawing out long moans from your throat with each press of his hips. He whispers promises he can’t keep, drawing constellations over your skin with his tongue and teeth and lips.

When he leans back to look at you, his molten eyes melt your skin, scorching it, he watches the way your body reacts to his thrusts. His hands grip your sides, pulling you onto him while his thighs slap against the back of your legs.

“Think you were made to take my cock, baby,” he murmurs. His eyes remain glued between your legs, watching when he slowly drags himself out and presses back in. “Look at you—look so fucking pretty, taking it so good for me.”

JT isn’t a fool; he knows what his filthy, whispered praises do to you. You’re sure he can feel the way you squeeze him tightly, knows the way your breath hitches, hears the whimper you let escape when he presses up against the fleshy spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.

“Come on it,” is his low, purred command. “Wanna see you come for me.”

Between his low purrs and the thumb he circles over your clit, you have no choice but to spiral into a release, letting out a litany of moans and nonsensical mumbles of his name. Your hands grip onto his toned shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the wave washes over you. JT follows soon after, pulling out of you with a grunt and spilling onto your stomach.

He sits back to admire his handiwork, eyes raking over your panting, blissed-out body covered in his cum. “Sure that was the last time?”

Your heart cracks at the hope in his voice, the unspoken promise—I’ll do better, I mean it this time—lingering there. But even that slight acknowledgment that he doesn’t want to lose you makes your head spin. It’s enough to force your gaze down, away from his dark eyes; you’re afraid if you keep looking into them, you’ll cave and fall right back into him.

But then you think about the hurt in your heart. You think about that night in Boston, about the way he can never really seem to commit to you despite the pretty things he says to you in the middle of the night. How many times had he given a vague promise? A noncommittal response?

It’s a target you’ll never reach. You could spend your life trying and fall short every time, like Sisyphus and the boulder; “JT” and “relationship” simply don’t mesh in your world.

With those thoughts echoing in your head, you nod sadly. “Yeah, J. I’m sure.”

Ten weeks later

A frustrated sigh huffs out of your mouth, leaning against your front door. Another failed first date. This one had questionable political beliefs and didn't ask you a single question about yourself until you were halfway done with your entree.

Your side table drawer has seen plenty of action given your unsuccessful dating life and the fact that your body hasn't quite caught up with your recent lack of redheaded companion. It’s not the same; nothing will ever quite match the flex of his hands and the tickle of his beard on your skin.

And yet you keep trying. It’s been nearly three months since you last saw JT, the bruises he left on your skin long faded and his scent now completely washed out of your sheets. After the first bad date, you were hopeful it was just bad luck; after the second, you felt the first flicker of despair; by the third, the resentment had already set in.

Even from the grave, JT Compher was still finding a way to ruin your life. Even now, the memory of his touch and of his voice murmuring your name haunts you in your sleep, a gentle reminder from your subconscious that he’s changed you irreparably. That you’ll be comparing every other future lover to him.

And then you realize that, contrary to your belief, your disappointment hasn’t disappeared at all, but rather changed forms; instead of being hurt by JT, now you’re continuously let down and unimpressed by the abysmal dating pool. By the men who simply don’t match up to how he made you feel, the way he made your body sing.

You pull your phone out, your fingers typing his name like muscle memory. The cursor flickers, your thumbs hovering over the screen—a moment of deliberation. You blink, and the moment is gone.

Then you text him.

‘You around tonight?’

Author's Note: C is writing toxic JT?! Who is she? I figured it was time to experiment with a different side since I have about 490382 other fics of sweet, sexy ginger boy. Lots of Taylor references in here. Not sorry about it. As always, thanks to @senditcolton for encouraging the toxicity. 😘

Taglist (message or comment to join!): @lam-ila @ashloveshockey @cellythefloshie @smileysvech @senditcolton

@fallinallincurls

[bonsiii-art]

Just watch your wip while listening to "FANF movie rap by JT music" And please give it a listen from part 3:24 to 3:53

It gives out the menacing vibes but it's so cool!

I had to plot ideas from it:

Plot one: it's obviously FANF movie - haven't watched it yet, and i don't know the plot much, am a coward - and thought "what if Longan was in foxy's place?" Like they're forgotten from the stage and watch everyone from behind the curtains.. Planning the downfall of anon or player. The fact they're forgotten it give them the benefit to watch and plan while making everyone think they have to deal with 3 or 4 dragons (if lychee cookie count) not knowing there's a 5th dragon doll to deal with.

Plot two: It's about the 3 longans going yandere/possessive mode. Because there's 3 longan and one anon and they're like to each other "I deserve anon. Back away you two".

Very cool beats! >:P I've seen the FNAF movie and it was pretty good! Not too scary imo so it's a good watch if you're a scaredy cat like me! :> It's really funny you talk about the dragons being in a fnaf-scenario bc I had read a post that was exactly this so I went looking for it! It's a fun read! o((>ω< ))o I enjoyed Brittle's gameplay mechanic ideas for all of the dragons! The way you described Longan's place in the first plot gives me more golden freddy vibes! 🤔Like they could do the same thing as Gold does and suddenly appear in your office to jumpscare you 👁️👁️- Still comes with the plotting and scheming, just more like a phantom! It's not that I'm terrified of the idea of Longan running down the hallway to get me, no- For that second plot, imagining it as a whole "Emperor and Warlord got briefly sent to the main timeline", I think they would cooperate with each other at first. I mean, they're all Longan, Longan can trust themselves! It's only when Warlord gets overtly affectionate with Anon that nerves start to get frayed. Warlord is happy seeing Anon in the good ole days and Anon is getting flustered from the sudden treatment with someone who looks exactly like their stoic partner. Then Emperor tries to act like the voice of reason here, inadvertently charming anon with smiles that seem almost mythical in rarity.

Needless to say, Longan was more than happy when they no longer had to share with two dragons who were more open than they ever want to be.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Big Sea: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: This case brings up old wounds in Derek's life when an ocean floor of bodies comes washing ashore. Meanwhile, Frank is nearing the end of his ride before he comes for the one thing he wants, the one thing he's always wanted. You.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"The sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness." - Joseph Conrad

"So, did you ever figure out who put the syringes there?" JJ asks over FaceTime.

"No." You screw in the last camera and climb down from the ladder. "It's so weird..."

"Why?"

"I would have seen their energy. I didn't see anything."

"Did you tell me that you don't see the energies of people you know?"

The thought of someone you know doing this puts a chill on your spine. Does someone hate you so much that they want to scare you? That they want to hurt you?

"I really don't want to think about that, JJ."

There are two cameras in the apartment. One in the bedroom and one in the living room. No one will be getting in here again without you knowing it. You've always been able to rely on your gift to tell you things, to show you people's secrets. Someone you know was in your apartment and you don't know who it is. How can you ever rely on your gift again?

Still, if something happens, you'll be the first to know about it. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, your cameras will always send you a notification if they notice any movement from inside your home. Like now, you're in Florida with the team because bodies are washing up through the seater system, faster than the local police can handle. So many bodies that the local police had to close off the beach to set up shop there.

Bodies were buried under the ocean floor and have recently started coming up due to the shifting tectonics. By the time you get there, there are already half a dozen tents with bones laid out as well as a section for lab personnel to test the bones.

Two men were flushing out the sewer pipes when bones rushed through it, and Hotch is talking to them.

"How deep is the water that this sand is coming from?" Hotch asks.

"About one hundred meters. The pump spews out all kinds of stuff from the ocean floor."

"Do you do this every year?"

"Yes, but it's the first time in Jacksonville. We just moved the barge here three days ago."

"Thousands of miles of open water and blind luck uncovers an unsub's graveyard," Rossi sighs.

"I had them stop the pump once I realized what this was."

"We're going to need you to turn the pump back on. If we don't keep digging, we're not gonna know how many bodies there are down there." Penelope calls Hotch. "What'd you find?"

"A scary math problem. I just finished doing my Jacksonville missing persons sweep. There are six unresolved cases, three of which are kids, and you have nine adult bodies already."

"Then he's not hunting here. Widen your search."

"Yeah, I will do that. Just remember, it is difficult to get an ID match to a thigh bone or coccyx."

"Agent Hotchner." Hotch hangs up and turns around to greet the detective. "Detective Foreman. Call me JT." He gestures to the tents. "Not the most cushy arrangement, but it'll keep your team close to the crime scene for now.

"Well, thank you for setting it up. This will help us preserve what we can. Excuse me."

You and Hotch slip inside the tent where Spencer is. He's examining the bone fragments under a microscope to see if he can determine a timeline, if there is one to be found. Even from looking at it, you can tell some of these bones are really, really, old.

"You know, based on the parasites on the most recent kill, the unsub killed as recently as a month ago, which means he's still active."

"How did you establish a timeline so quickly?"

"By reverse engineering mother nature. Each year, sand and sediment cover up the remains, creating layers on the ocean floor."

"That makes sense," you say. "The deeper the pump dug, the older the remains. Nine victims in nine years means that he's in control of his urges."

"Did you make any sense of victimology?"

"Only that he likes variety. Pelvic bone width indicates that he kills both men and women, and skull structure says he crosses racial lines as well."

The sides of the tents are clear so you can see JT approach with a grim look on his face.

"Agent Hotchner, excuse me. We found three more remains."

"If he's been dumping this long, it's not just out of convenience. There's got to be an emotional tie as well. He'll change his MO because he has to, but he won't be happy about it."

"Then he'll have the entire Atlantic to choose from."

You snap some gloves on and pick up two bones. Even if a person has been dead for decades, you can still connect to their energies. It won't be as strong as someone who recently died but it'll be there. Energy clings to every single dead person no matter how long they've been gone.

Since the energy is mid at best, only flashes of images come at you instead of a movie about their lives. Images of boats and fish. It's not surprising given where you are. 

"There's a lot of fishing boats around here. It's not that surprising," Spencer says when you tell him.

You leave the tent and find Derek and Ashley talking with the detective. When you told Derek about the syringes, he just about flipped his shit. He doesn't like to see you hurt and the thought of someone you know might be doing this, it pisses him off. He smiles when he sees you but continues talking with them.

"You know, that site is known for record catches of yellowmouth. So, the unsub was smart enough to dump during the off-season and avoid fishermen. He could be local."

"I'm afraid to ask this," JT sighs, "but could this be one of my guys? We run interdiction exercises around that spot."

"No, it's most likely another fisherman."

"How could you know that?"

"I'll show you." You follow Derek into one of the tents where bones are laid out on tables. He grabs one with a gloved hand. "See, he disarticulates the bodies at the joints. It helps them sink. Now, that's a skill that only an experienced butcher or fisherman would have."

"The bone nicks indicate this guy inflicted a lot of pain on his victims, which means he's a sadist," you add.

Derek pulls out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Enchantress of all things possible. Use your imagination."

"Can you enchant me with a list of boat owners in Jacksonville?"

"You know I can, baby. Okay, in Duvall County, we're looking at over thirty-one thousand registered boats."

"Limit that to the boats that can only be operated by one person."

"Okay, I'm going to need a lot more than this to do that. It's still looking like a list that makes War and Peace read like a comic book."

Derek is about to respond when he notices one of the cards that's laid next to a heap of bones. Once they were able to confirm that certain bones belonged to each other, they started putting cards with as much information as they could get about the bones. The one Derek sees says "Victim #5 African American female approx. age, 20s. Died in 2004. Derek goes ashen.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He speaks to Penelope. "Keep me posted."

"Why wouldn't he be okay?" Ashley wonders.

"It's just in cases like these where there are only pieces, it's tough. The best we can do is catalog them and wait for the unsub to screw up somewhere else."

"Do you think he's moved on?"

"If he's smart, he has to. So far, this guy seems really smart."

You look behind you at Spencer who looks more stressed than the last time you saw him. This is an unusual case, you have to give him that.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you ask Derek. "You were looking at the card as if you knew who it could be."

"Don't worry about it, okay?"

You nod in surprise. "Okay. I'm going to see if Spencer has anything." You leave the tent and shuffle over to his at the same time as Hotch. "Have you nailed down the victimology?"

"I found a unique evolution, actually. The earliest victims appear to be high-risk." He shows marks on the bones. "These lesions are consistent with syphilis, most likely a prostitute." He points to a skull. "This one has severely ground and missing teeth, commonly seen in excessive methamphetamine abuse. Then all of a sudden out of nowhere, healthier and stronger victims all the way through to number twelve."

"Who do we know about the first victim?"

"That one's tough. He or she has been in the water so long, they're mostly bone fragments. I can attempt to reconstruct--"

"You've got three hours," Hotch cuts him off.

"I can do it in two."

"Make it one."

You pat Spencer's shoulder as a way to comfort him, but if anyone is going to get this done in an hour, it's Spencer. You and Hotch join Rossi's side who is staring at the news vans on the other side of the beach. They essentially haven't left since the police department decided to make the beach their home base.

"How much has gotten out?" you ask.

"Can't tell. Some of these news crews are national. If the unsub doesn't know we found his graveyard yet, he will soon."

"Then we'll hear from everyone who's ever filed a missing persons report."

"Maybe we can use this to our advantage. I could talk to them. It might feed his ego and take the sting out of him losing this site. It could keep him in the area."

Hotch calls for a press conference which is pretty easy since all the news reporters are already in the area. It's not hard for them to air what Hotch has to say.

"At this moment it would be premature to comment on the details of the case. Our goal is to identify the recovered remains as quickly as possible for the families involved. In order to expedite that, we're asking that the families or friends of people who went missing on the East Coast of the United States since the year 2000 come forward. We'll be matching DNA to the remains, and it will be helpful for us to have a personal item from each of the missing persons. An article of clothing, a hairbrush, a blanket, a pillowcase, photographs, or medical or dental records if you have them. We're also looking for items of significance to help us determine the last known whereabouts of each of the victims. Correspondence like letters or emails will be helpful."

Derek's phone rings and he takes the call off to the side. Normally, this wouldn't get your attention but you can feel the disappointment rolling off him in waves. Whoever he is talking to, he doesn't have good news for him.

"Is he okay?" you ask Rossi. "I saw him looking at one of the cards by the bones like he might know who it is."

"Some years back, Morgan's cousin fled a stalker. She made it to South Carolina. She was never seen or heard from again."

"Was it the stalker?"

"He killed himself two weeks later, so we never found out for sure, but Morgan's profile led straight to him. So, whenever unidentified female remains turn up... He gets that call."

You wait until Derek is off the phone before you approach him.

"Hey, slugger." He looks at you. "How are you doing?"

"I could be better."

"Can't you run the DNA of your cousin to confirm if that's her or not?"

"It's not," he shakes his head. "My aunt is in denial. She was her child, and she refuses to think anything else. She still thinks she's alive."

"She might be. A mother just... knows sometimes." Derek nods and sighs. "If you want my help, I'm more than happy to look into it for you."

Derek pulls you in for a hug. "Thanks, mama."

Due to the press conference, a ton of people came forward in the hope their missing loved ones were one of the ones who washed up. Derek and Ashley go to the station to talk to them while you check to see how Spencer is doing.

"How are you doing?"

"On this first victim, the more I work on this skeleton, the more I question its condition. The ocean floor preserved the other remains remarkably well. I think something else caused this."

"Could this be the age of these bones as opposed to the others?"

"Well, he's significantly older. Arthritis in the joints puts him in his late fifties, but that doesn't account for this degree of breakdown. In fact, nothing in the ocean would."

"If the unsub's responsible, maybe he didn't disarticulate this victim but tore him apart instead."

"Look at this." Spencer picks up a bone. There are several knicks on it like it was hit by something. "This bone has a defensive wound like he held it up before the blow came down. I think the bone-smashing occurred while the victim was still alive. He worked out a lot of aggression on this victim. He didn't do that with the others. That would indicate a personal relationship."

"Maybe a father?"

"That would be my guess and not a good one based on the low calcium levels consistent with alcoholism."

x

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[mapofyourstars]

@uniquecellest replied to your post:

They're switches but Charles tops more Despite coming from wealth he and Raven have shopped from like Dollar Tree/ .99 cent and similar stores for food, it's a trait they've carried over with their romantic interests as well Charles's love languages is gift giving and words of affirmation Erik's love languages are baking/cooking (i think that counts as gift giving idk) and acts of service (jm so bad with describing love languages lol)

In mafia aus Charles should be the head boss not bc of wealth but bc he does things differently and he and his crew are so discreet no one knows what they really look like. Most people confuse Erik for being the head when really hes Charles's right hand and/or civilian partner that knows about the mafia In pregnancy aus (at least the ones that follow the 2010 movies) I don't think either would a) know they're pregnant if jt happens right before cuba (we can talk if it's like months before) but even then they wouldn't use the pregnancy to get the other on their side. They'd let bygones be bygones (Hank runs the school, Raven the brotherhood, these two fucked off to the countryside somewhere to raise their kids) Hank and Darwin are more Charles's kids, Angel and Alex more Erik's, Sean was the kid that would've kept them together I think Shaw should've caused more angst for them by meeting Charles earlier. Maybe bringing stuff about Erik where Charles would've punched him (Erik: I'd hate to be on the side of Charles's right hook. *Erik 11 yrs later) Alpha Charles Omega Erik Moira knew about them. She did. And she kept it secret bc 60s. They would've been at the frontlines at Stonewall Nina and Peter love Charles to a point Erik thinks they favor Charles over him (it's okay. Jean does the same thing makes Charles think she prefers Erik over Charles) They're audhd4audhd Bad guys need to learn if you want to take over the world you kidnap them both but keep them separate. Real good torture. (Also you're dead in like 5min if you kidnap one and leave the other roaming around) Charles reintroduced Erik to some of his Jewish heritage by doing small things with him (i forget the name but I know there's one thing where Jewish people don't eat or drink from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday) eventually Erik reached out to a rabi (idk how it's spelt) and they start celebrating every Jewish holiday together Bc of his upbringing Charles has a complicated relationship with religion via his parents. He'll celebrate Christmas and Easter but not much else. (He mainly just celebrates Christmas the more he gets older) Theyd run the US for 16 yrs (2 terms Charles 2 terms Erik while the other is vp/first gentleman) Erik thinks Charles has fine china, and tries to make any metal plates form back together if broken (Charles doesn't care.) Living together outside the Xavier estate they have a small cottage that looks like it's at most two bed on the outside but it's super spacious inside and hosts all of their kids and friends in their own rooms Scalp massages help Charles with any headaches (regular or chronic) Erik is more than happy to give

I have things to say because you fed me with these head canons. in order are my responses:

agreed. both switch, but yeah, charles tops more.

raven, in my mind, would be more prone to shop at places like that, and over time, charles just gets used to it because his sister drags him there enough for random snacks and drinks. and honestly, who wants to pay loads of money for basic essentials.

charles dotes on erik, it's disgusting.

erik helps charles out whenever he knows he needs it most without having to be told, and charles fawns over it.

love that. it's because erik is scary to most upon meeting them, but charles running things is great.

so what you're saying is that once charles/erik tells the other of their pregnancy, both would cave and just give up their goals to raise their babies together? I'm soft, I love that.

ooooh, spicy thought. always thought of alex as charles' kid, very interesting. though sean definitely would have kept them together - he's like the baby.

in what way do you think charles would have met shaw? just sometime before cuba? or entirely different circumstances? (I imagine you're keeping to the movie-verse, so I assume before cuba.) charles would have taken one look in that man's mind and severely debilitated him.

praise alpha!charles and omega!erik. (I'm going to get around to writing a fic with that, I swear.)

agreed, and love the concept of it. moira really is a great friend.

YES. with raven alongside as well, I feel.

ooooh, you think jean has a very strong relationship with erik, nice. I feel like that's not common, but maybe I'm just a jean-hater from time to time. I'm learning to love her and her relationship with her dads though.

yeah, I think erik definitely has some neurodivergency there, but charles is definitely autistic in my mind. his telepathy alleviates his autistic tendencies, but when he's without it, he's fully unmasked and unable to gather the social cues he gained by his telepathy. though, it does make me wonder if he has relied on his telepathy for so long that he naturally is unable to do x, y, and z without it, and his mannerisms, actions, and thoughts appear to align with autism. kind of like what came first, y'know?

oh, yeah - erik can hear charles' getting tortured in the other room and vice versa. definitely affects them psychologically and emotionally.

sabbath and rabbi, right? and yeah, I love the idea of reclamation of erik's ethnicity and religion. however, I also feel that erik might have difficulty doing so and tends to abstain from jewish tradition because he feels slighted by whatever higher power might be out that there chose to do those atrocities to his people. I've seen both sides from older jewish people who survived the holocaust, and I think both ideas could apply to erik. the first one is beautiful though.

agreed. I just tend to look at charles as an agnostic atheist. I see him too involved with science to believe in anything else other than the absence of a god.

could you imagine charles and erik as presidents? the things they'd get done? the stark differences between how they run the country? oof, incredible.

lol, kind of love erik just not knowing but thinking it's important to charles.

yeah, them having an alternate house is definitely a big head canon of mine. the house will be a little cottage or cabin with tons of books and two chess tables and barely any metal around, and they go there whenever they just need to get away or spend time away from technologically advanced world. after all, they are old men.

erik giving charles a scalp massage is the cutest thought ever. he'd do anything for his man.

[irlpaulmatthews]

heh.. you write x readers . Heh.

give me emma pls

pleas

headcanons work

sfw and not

im a freak for the crabby bitch

[ DEFINITELY NOT MEL. DO NOT @ localcrabbybarista / melthe-greatesttt / thelord-ingr33n OR INFORM ME ON DISCORD IF YOU DO JT ]

i mean, if ur not mel then okay! you’re very welcome for this random anon i definitely do NOT know! /sar

Dating Emma Perkins Hcs

tw/cw: emma might be ooc?, weed mentioned, x reader obvi, nsfw :3

a/n: i’m not the best with NSFW hcs or just in general, seeing how im asexual💔 but i tried…

SFW

she never really thought she’d be in a relationship, nor did she think it would be this important to her

she’s 100% sarcastic 24/7

always making small remarks about something, her tone always have some form of sarcasm to it

she (steals) brings you free coffee from beanies but you don’t have the heart to tell her to stop because it taste like shit

you definitely met AT beanies, kinda like a paulkins situation but this time you actually had the balls yo make a move (cough PAUL cough)

DEFINITELY SMOKE WEED TOGETHER

you don’t do it fairly often but once in a while

relax together on the couch, a few snacks laid across the coffee table as you’re curled into each-other and watching some dumb movie while high off your rockers

average date night ⬆️

you don’t go on many REAL dates, she’s more of a stay at home date kinda person

most of your dates consist of what i had said before or naps tbh

she isn’t big on physical touch/affection but doesn’t push you away if you initiate it.

she also isn’t big on words, doesn’t really know how to express her TRUE love since she’s never really been this way

she’s okay with gifts, doesn’t do it often since she’s fairly tight on money, but when she does it’s always the thought that counts!

100% prefers quality time over any of the other love languages

doesn’t matter if you’re yapping her ear off or just sitting in silence in the same room, she loves being with you (yet doesn’t really express it)

prefers holding hands rather than hugs or even kissing sometimes

just likes a distraction for her hand as she multitasks

you come visit her at work sometimes! order their shitty coffee and just talk for a moment as she pretends to clean the counters

she invites you to the back of beanies to definitely just talk more privately, defo not to make out… that’s insane… (you definitely make out.)

NSFW (read at ur own risk!)

her sex drive isn’t that high tbh

you guys have sex every once in a while but not as often as you’d think

semi into public stuff? you tried to do it in a family bathroom but someone knocked and you got embarrassed… never again you swore

into some type of role play stuff (as seen in forever and always)

but that normally ends in either a fit of giggles at your guy’s horrid acting or just it doesn’t do her horniness justice, dropping the mood entirely

a masochist. no comment needed

she talks a lot of shit about sex but has barely any idea on what to do

more into vanilla sex than anything, she doesn’t really know much so you’re slowly working into other stuff

isn’t that big on like hardcore dirty talk but isn’t against it if either of you use it.

also doesn’t really know what to do for aftercare, but she tries

she cleans off the bed, helping you put on some new clothes (if preferred) before herself, and just relaxing with you until you both fall asleep

[emilyy-jt]

First post!

My friend and I have started to write a collection of Lockwood & Co. one-shots, below this text is one I have wrote. I'm happy for some suggestions of what I am to write next (they don't have to be Lockwood & Co.). Whenever I write a new story I'll be posting on here, and on Wattpad. (Wattpad user: Emily-JT)

Word count: 1671

Lucy x Lockwood

A few minutes before, I had been forced by George to get his favourite biscuits (Jammy Dodgers) from Arif’s because he had been too lazy to get his precious behind off the lounge, normally I would politely tell him to ‘go jump off a cliff’, but I had decided against it as Lockwood was sitting in the lounge room reading when George asked and politely offered to come with me. Lockwood had been pissing me off lately, not just from his stupid smirk but also the fact that he always jumps into things without thinking. This leads to how Lockwood and I ended up getting into a little bit of a dispute.

We were walking down the pathway that connects the businesses beside us to the ongoing traffic when Lockwood abruptly stopped in front of Arif’s, we had been bickering the whole walk. 

“Why does everything I do seem like the end of the world to you? Honestly Luce, I’m just trying to help. If I didn’t ‘jump’ into cases, like you say, we wouldn’t be a company anymore” he rolled his eyes, “If we took every precaution we would be just as stupid as those Fittes kids-”

I cut in “But those Fittes kids are successful, Lockwood, they don’t live in fear of debt all the time-”, 

“So what you’re saying is that you want to leave again, is that it, Lucy?-, I was taken back by him calling me Lucy and not Luce, “I’m trying my best and if that means that I have to ‘jump’ into things, then I will take it. Don’t you realise that everything I do is for you…” he took a long pause, “for George, and for Holly.” I take a deep breath. “So that's it?, that's all you’re going to say?. I’m so sick of you starting to bicker with me at every chance you get, to just stop when I’m correct.” he yells, loud enough for the whole street to hear. 

“Fine, if you really want me to go I will.” I yell back at him and storm towards our home. A few seconds after I walk away I hear some mumbling from him but I decide not to walk back over to him as it would cause more of a scene.

“Lucy, dinner!” I hear George yell at me. Dinner is what I have been dreading. I don’t want to see his stupid smug face pretending everything is ok, when It’s clearly not. 

“Lucy I swear, If I have to wait one more second!” George yells again. I get off my bed and walk down the staircase, as I reach the second floor I see Lockwoods door open with a warm light inviting me in but I continue down the stairs and into the kitchen. As I step into the kitchen I am greeted with Lockwood sitting at the head of the table like usual.

“Ooo heres the girl everyone has been waiting for” The skull twists his ectoplasm into a stupid face, “what’s wrong now, boy problems?” I ignore the skull’s remarks and pick him up regardless of his protests, I drag out my chair slowly staring at Lockwood while I do it, I place the Skull on my chair, twist the lid shut so I don’t have to hear it’s teasing and walk over to the chair opposing Lockwood and sit down, Lockwood raises an eyebrow at me and George gives me a stare. While we’re eating I exchange dirty looks at Lockwood, he ends up looking anywhere but me when I look at him for too long.

“I don’t wanna be in the middle of this, can you at least just talk normally during dinner and start staring at each other when I’m gone?” George says, killing the complete silence.

“I’m not doing anything until he apologises” I snap maliciously, my voice getting slightly louder.

“Are you kidding me, you want me to apologise?” Lockwood matches the tone of my voice, “I’m not the one who decides to complain about everything I do, I’m not the one who decides to be petty and switch their chair just to stare at me all dinner. I’ve had enough of this!” He gets up from his chair making it screech loudly, leaving his dishes on the table and walks out the door. 

“Great going, Lucy,” George grumbles, I get up just like Lockwood and walk out the kitchen leaving George with the mess. 

I hear footsteps climbing the staircase and a sudden stop at my door, I groan. “Luce?... Could I come in?” I hear Lockwoods voice call out from the other side of the door.

“Ok.” I say coldly as I adjust myself to sit on the end of my bed. I hear my door open slowly and shut, his feet climbing the stairs that lead up to my room. As he gets to the landing he stays there standing still.

 “Hi.” He says in a serene voice.

 “Hi.” I reply quietly as I look up at him. 

He then begins to speak again, “I had thought about our… discussion just now and realised that I was being unfair to you, I get that you were worried about me but you don’t need to be. I can manage myself.” He said sincerely, still it made me frustrated but I didn’t let that take over as this was just how Lockwood apologised.

“I know.. But you saying that doesn’t change anything-” He takes a seat next to me on my bed and looks straight ahead instead of at me,”I care about you and I-I don’t want you to end up like Norrie.” I look at my best friend's photograph on my mirror.

“I know..” He replied quietly looking at the ground, then back at me “I won’t end up like that, I swear, Luce.” He takes my hand reassuringly and gives me a slight smile although I can tell he feels sympathy for me.

 My heart feels like it’s going to shatter like a porcelain doll, I know he means it… I do, but even if he does, it doesn’t mean that he won’t end up like her. I can’t bear the thought of him being like that. “You say that, but don’t make an effort to change, George told me-” he butts in, “whatever George told you doesn’t matter,” I look at the floor “I’m telling you that I won’t end up like that.”

 He looks intently into my eyes, “Luce-” he squeezes my hand “please, look at me”. I look at him expecting to see his ‘I’ve got this handled’ expression, but instead he looks truly worried; his eyes flickering up and down my face. 

“I know you miss her.” he breaks the silence that fell between the two of us, my eyes start to tear up so I look back down to the floorboards; tracing the intricate details with my eyes.

His fingers unlink from mine, I think I did something wrong, instead he moves his hand to my cheek and makes me look back up at him. He starts to speak again, his eyes never leaving mine, his hand still resting on my cheek “I get what you’re feeling, more than anyone in this house” he says softly; his eyes piercing every fibre of sanity I have left, I feel myself slowly lose control; I start to cry, my sobs silent. He doesn’t waste a second to pull me into his arms, his head resting atop mine.

“You’re okay…” he whispers to me. My head is buried into his shoulder, I can’t stop crying. All my emotions that I’ve been carrying for quite some time now pour out. It's as if I have no self control when I’m in Lockwoods vicinity. 

I hold my sobs back and pull back, I go to speak but he doesn’t let me, “Feel free to hold a grudge against me, I get it. I just want you to know that when you joined Lockwood and Co., my life actually felt worth it. I feel so selfish for suffocating you like you can’t have a life of your own, I was so utterly terrified of you leaving me- when you did it felt like my whole life collapsed, I didn’t have you to fill in the emptiness of the home-” he started to ramble on, “ of course there’s George, but you know how he is in the morning, I can’t say a word to him without getting glared at. 

“Lockwood-” my hand made its way to his, “I promise I won’t leave you, if you promise to not end up like Norrie.”

“You promise” he says in a voice, just barley louder than a whisper

“My solemn and binding promise.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me” George groans from the hallway, I look at Lockwood, and he looks at me, Holly seemed not to have noticed George as she swept the floor. Lockwood and I are both slightly confused at what George is going on about but we end up going back to what we were doing before: me, writing down groceries we needed on the thinking cloth, and Lockwood making all four of us tea.

George makes his way through the kitchen doorway and drops a newspaper on the table right in front of me. “You two really need to keep your stupid bickering to the house, as much as I hate it-” Lockwood cuts him off,

“What are you even going on about” he retorts, clearly annoyed at George’s tone.

I read aloud “‘Dispute between two Lockwood & Co. members. Will the company's biggest asset, Lucy Carlyle, be leaving the agency again?’”

 Lockwood snatches the paper up and reads through it. “They finally got my name right!” he exclaims, “no more of that bloody ‘Andrew Lockwood’ nonsense” he says in a mocking manner.

“Bloody hell, Lockwood, that’s what you’re worried about?!” George exclaims. I can hear Holly snickering in the background, I can’t help but raise my eyebrows at Lockwood.

[fictfrenzy]

ok genuinely level with me here

magical drop is such a small fandom it kills me

like for one WDYM THE NEW UPDATE CHARACTERS AREN'T ON SPRITERS RESOURCE??? HEY GUYS??? id put them on myself if my laptop wasnt slow as fuck, since it's unity it's just opening it in an app and finding the images

LIKE GOD I WANT JUDGEMENT......

also ALSO don't even get me started on MDV being LOST MEDIA (sort of)

cuz like. it's on archive.org yeah BUUUT. i swear virustotal marked the .rar as a Trojan virus like DUDE??? magical drop 5 was so bad basically that it got delisted from steam in 2020 and any legitimate ways of having it is whittled down to Buying A $125 Steam Key From G2A What The Fuck

or playing that xbox 360 prototype that never saw the light of day which apparently it does exist?? idk the game was consdidered so bad that THAT fell through but dude that wouldve been so fucking cool......

there's actually a lot of lost media surrounding magical drop in general like guys what the fuck don't we know better ??? ARCHIVE ARCHIVE ARCHIVE ESPEEESCIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO MAGICAL DROP BECAUSE AINT NO WAY *squints at "who the fuck owns md's copyright rn" sign* *i don't have my glasses on* G-MODE CARES ABOUT MAGICAL DROP!!! THE SERIES DOESNT MAKE SHIT!!!!! EVERYONE'S JUST PIRATING MD3 ANYWAY WHY WOULD THEY CARE!!!!!! ok well alright i did buy MD6 like. um. 3 times. BUT THATS NOT THE POINT MOTH WHO OWNS MAGICAL DROP ON A FUCKING CALCULATOR IS AN OUTLIER AND SHOULD NOT BE COUNTED

fuck what was i on qbout..... Oh Yeah Have You Heard Of Judgement X Death

i don't understand half this ramble but i get the other part & its like. holds your paws. i get jt

[senditcolton]

Homecoming: Craving (bonus epilogue)

a/n: had this planned out. decided not to add it to the original fic. but then, a conversation i had with @comphy-and-cozy about a week ago made me think, "i have to post this now" because it definitely sets up a... few potential sequels (that i may have already created a word doc for). so... enjoy! word count: 1.9k warnings: references to everything that happened in the original fic plus some other... activities. high level of embarrassment as well - you'll understand.

The coolness of the painted concrete walls seeps through your sweater as you linger in the tunnel underneath Ball Arena. Your eyes glance over each Avalanche player as they filter out of the locker room, greeting their significant others, a celebratory mood in the atmosphere.

And there was a strong reason to celebrate. The Avs proficiently beat the Red Wings, a final score of 7-2 wowing the home crowd. You – of course – cheered with every fan in the stands and gladly joined in the celebration here in the bowels of the stadium.

You happily join in with Tracy, the two of you jumping and screaming as Cale appears in response to his first ever career hattrick, before you let the two lovebirds embrace in their own personal celebration.

You see the blonde hair and impish smile of a Finn that wasn’t your boyfriend as Artturi walks up to you. The forward had always been a mainstay in your life, thanks to your relationship with his childhood best friend, but last summer in Finland the relationship between you and Artturi grew exponentially. You easily throw your arms over his shoulders, murmuring a small congratulations for being credited with the game winning goal. When he breaks you embrace, you see his cheeks flush pink, causing you to giggle before you wish him a soft goodnight, Artturi disappearing down the hall.

It was a great night all around. Especially for the Colorado Avalanche, their players, and their fans.

But for you, the highlight of the game was watching the entirety of Ball Arena stand and cheer for JT, welcoming him back Denver. Your eyes tracked him and the small circle he skated by his new team’s bench, his hand on his heart as he takes in sight.

You weren’t about to lie and pretend like tears didn’t well in your eyes. You would lie if anyone asked if moisture pooled somewhere else in your body.

You shake the images from your head, not ready to get lost in the events of last night – at least not here surrounded by other wives and partners and children. It does prove difficult. You can feel the ache still lingering in your thighs and it’s easy to picture JT’s lust-blown pupils, feel the phantom sensation of his body against your skin, remember the scent of his cologne.

Something that you could smell even now.

The explanation as to why comes in the sound of an all too familiar deep voice speaking close behind you.

“Fancy running into you here.”

You turn your body, eyes flitting over and landing on JT now leaning against the wall next to you. Your gaze rakes over his face, his hair still damp from his shower, gameday suit returned to his body.

“Sorry about the loss,” you say, keeping your face as passive as possible. It doesn’t quite work, JT reading you easily, that crooked grin tugging at his lips, the sight of which causes your own lips to twitch.

“No you’re not,” he quips.

“You’re right, I’m not,” you reply with a playful shrug, angling your body back towards the Avs locker room. Only a few bodies still lingered and the vacancy allowed you leeway to whisper your next words.

“Seems like last night was a pretty effective distraction.”

“So that was you and Mikko’s evil plan all along?”

“Guilty.”

The teasing edge paints your words, making it clear that you were only partially joking. That wasn’t the whole reason you invited him into your bed. Hell, that wasn’t even a thought that was in your mind until Mikko voiced it. You simply wanted JT and were very happy that the fantasy that had only existed in your mind finally became a reality.

Only a moment of silence passes before Mikko appears from the doorway, his eyes quickly finding you. The trill in your heart only increases when you see his expression brighten exponentially at the sight of JT standing behind you. He jogs towards the two you, his body now clad in your favorite pair of sweatpants and compression shirt. There’s no stopping the giggles that escape as he easily scoops you up into a hug, burying his face into your neck as you laugh. He sets you down, kissing you so deeply that your knees weaken. You could chalk up his passion to being high off the win. But you know better, the clearing of a throat behind you only emphasizing your suspicions.

Mikko breaks the kiss, his hands staying on your hips even as you turn around, the two of you facing the ginger still lingering in the hallway. You feel Mikko’s chest raise, his mouth surely falling open to speak, most likely to give JT sympathies for the loss. Although, anything he was going to say is silenced by JT raising his hand.

“Don’t bother,” JT says. “I already know what you’re going to say and I already know you don’t mean a damn word.”

You look back at Mikko, his eyes widening in surprise at JT’s words before he glances back down to you. Your only reply is shrug and a softly mouthed ‘sorry’ which makes Mikko grin. Both your and his attention turns back to JT, that easy smirk now plainly painted on your boyfriend’s face.  

“You’re complaining?”

It makes you feel both wicked and weak when you see JT’s eyes subtly darken, his gaze darting between you and Miko. You are positive that you know the images dancing through his mind – mainly because they were also dancing through yours.

“Not at all.”

The silence falls, the three of you standing in the now abandoned hallway, the tension between you three satiated… at least for now. You’d be a fool to think that it had disappeared. Now that you’ve had a taste of JT, you would never deny yourself more. If he offered.

“Do you really have to leave?” you ask, trying – and failing – to keep the twinge of desperation from painting the syllables.

“Gotta catch a flight to Arizonia,” he sighs, his eyes still glued to you.

You nod, your body subtly wilting. JT Compher was once again leaving Denver and he most likely wouldn’t be back until next season.

Mikko’s grip falls from you for a moment as he steps around, pulling JT into a hug before separating and returning to his sentry behind you, his hands finding your hips again. You let your eyes drag across the frame of the redhead in front of you, drinking in the sight of him and letting your desire clearly shine through. JT observes you similarly until you step forward. Your arms lift to wrap around his shoulders, fingers deftly gliding over the exposed skin above his collar. JT’s arms loop around your ribcage, his fingers stroking a similar pattern against your spine.

“We’ll see you next season, JT.’

“Maybe next year, you can come to Detroit,” he murmurs.

“Gonna give us a tour of your apartment?” you question, the innuendo clear.

“If you want it.”

You smile, the knowledge that he still hungered for you making you feel insanely desired. Your gaze departs from him but only long enough to make sure that the hallway that the two of you were standing in was indeed empty. The confirmation comes quickly and you turn your attention back to JT. The hand on the nape of his neck pulls him down the same time you lift your body up, pulling him into a final kiss.

The sigh that escapes the two of you is content, happy to memorize the taste of each other one final time. JT’s lips move against yours and you let him deepen the kiss. You can feel Mikko’s hands subtly tighten around your hips as he steps closer, the weight and heat of two strong bodies enveloping you.

God, you were going to miss this.

“Well.”

The sound of a voice echoing down the hallway immediately breaks through, you pushing away from JT like you’ve been burned, Mikko’s arms wrapping entirely around you to help pull you back. JT reacts similarly, practically leaping fully across the hallway. Every eye turns to look towards the source of the voice and find Gabe Landeskog standing a few paces away.

The heat floods your cheeks as your eyes dart down, avoiding his gaze. You had never really understood the term ‘deer in headlights’ until now because you truly did feel like you were facing something that would kill you. Maybe not literally but you might definitely die of embarrassment. Mikko’s arms wrapped around you are the only thing that keeps you from melting into a mortified puddle on the floor.

You finally gather enough courage to look back up at Gabe, expecting to find his face screwed up in anger or disgust or – best case scenario – shock. But it turns out, shock appears on your face instead because Gabe is staring at the three of you with his arms crossed, the expression on his face more akin to a disappointed father catching his crazy kids doing something they aren’t supposed to. Which… is pretty applicable.

“Well,” Gabe restates with a sigh, walking towards you three. “I was trying to find you Comph to say goodbye but it seems someone already did that.”

“You…” JT stutters out, the shock of both the situation and Gabe’s words making his sentence falter. “You seem very casual about this.”

“Eh,” Gabe says, now standing in front of JT. “Seems pretty on brand for these two,” he explains, with a nod of his head in your and Mikko’s direction. His eyes dart over in your direction, clearly registering the confusion now mixing with the initial shock.

“Artturi got drunk one night and told me about a similar experience he had.”

Your eyes can’t help but widen, your face now burning with embarrassment. The steady gaze of Gabe, now coupled with the puzzled gaze that JT is giving you proves to be too much and you turn your body completely, burying yourself into Mikko’s chest. He pulls you closer and you aren’t sure if he’s feeling the same level of embarrassment as you. If he is, he’s doing a great job not showing it.

“I didn’t really need to know that I don’t need to know about this.” You can hear Gabe clap his hand against JT’s shoulder in a departing hug. “Good luck the rest of the season, Compher.”

Gabe’s footsteps start to fade, him surely walking up the tunnel towards the parking lot. The soft kiss Mikko presses onto the crown of your head signals that it’s okay to remove yourself from the safety of his chest. Your eyes find JT, still standing there bewildered before some thought breaks him out of the trace. His head swivels towards the retreating form of Gabe.

“Thanks Cap,” he calls out.  

“I’m not your Captain anymore!” Gabe calls back.

It might be your imagination but you swear you hear a muttered ‘thank fuck’ echoing down the hallway before the sound of a door opening and closing confirms Gabe’s departure. That noise makes JT turn back to look at both you and Mikko, an eyebrow raising in curiosity, and you can feel your cheeks blaze once again.

“Artturi?”

“It was his birthday,” you mumble, the only reply you can think of as JT’s brown eyes flit from you to Mikko. Behind you, you can feel Mikko shrug his shoulders.

“Told you; I like to share.”

a/n 2: the sequel word document is titled "Mikko Shares Series?"

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[sarahsmi13s]

Lavender Kisses

(not my gif)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x sarah grant (fem!oc)

characters: jake seresin, sarah grant (fem!oc), paisley seresin, alyssa bradshaw and natasha trace (mentioned), the dagger boys

warnings: fluff, domestic hangman THIS CONTAINS SMUT 18+ MDNI (you’ve been warned), smut contains: pregnant sex, lingerie kink, oral (female recieving), fingering, slight mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink (implied but not explicitly stated), unprotected p in v (don’t be dumb, please), if i missed any please let me know

word count: ~6.5k 

a/n: this story is inspired by ‘His Little Girl’ (bradley bradshaw x reader) by the lovely @roosterscockpit​​  ( @milesdickpic​ ) and characters from this story are mentioned. also, yes, the oc is based on me lol (well a fantasy version lol)  

PLEASE READ: this piece is not entirely smut, there is Valentine’s Day fluff in this as well. so if you want to skip over the smut -- that is perfectly fine. 

also lightly proof read and there are most likely mistakes

pt 6 in the j and s series

loose summary: sarah and jake celebrate valentine’s day together

***********

Sarah knocked gently on the guest bedroom door frame.

Paisley looked up from her suitcase, “Hey girl, what’s up?” Sarah smiled and leaned against the door frame, “Nothing really, I was just coming to ask if you and Tyler were doing anything for  Valentine’s Day?”

Paisley nodded and continued to pack, “Yeah, he knows I’ve been wanting a new hat. So, he’s planned to take me hat shopping and then we’re going to a nice dinner and then I think he planned a walk in the park.” Sarah nodded and walked in to sit down on the bed. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear?” Paisley shrugged and sat down, “Not really. I want to maybe wear something new, I’ve worn basically the same thing for the past few years.”

Sarah grinned, “Does this call for a Saturday Shopping Trip?” Paisley mirrored her best friend’s expression, “Have we ever needed a reason, my dear?” Sarah stood and pulled her up, “Let’s go!” “Right now?” “No time like the present PT,” she pulled her out of the room.

“What about Jake?” Paisley asked as they touched up their hair and make up. “He’s going to the driving range with the guys today,” Sarah said, swiping on lip gloss. “So he’ll be busy all day.” Paisley nodded and screwed her mascara closed.

They walked out and past where Jake was on the couch, “Woah, hey! Where are you two going?” “Shopping, need something special for Tuesday,” Sarah sent him a wink as she slipped on her shoes. “And Paisley leaves tomorrow, we wanted to have a trip to the mall before she left.”

Jake’s eyes widened and he reached into his pocket.

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed his credit card, “Here, get yourself whatever you want. On me, Sugar.” “Does that go for me too, JT?” “Uh, no,” Jake shook his head, a teasing smirk on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, you two have fun. Babe, send me photos of what you try on,” Jake said, sliding his wallet into his pocket while holding out the card.

Sarah took it and kissed him on the cheek, “Thank you, Love. What time are you gonna be home?” He shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. But when I get an estimate I’ll let you know.” She hummed and kissed his lips, “Have fun. I love you.” He pecked her lips again, “I love you too.”

*********

Paisley and Sarah walked into their last store of the day.

“Okay, last store because I’m certain Jake is going to have a heart attack when sees how much we’ve spent,” Sarah laughed as she looked around the store. Paisley scoffed, looking at a rack of jackets, “He said, ‘get yourself whatever you want. On me, Sugar’.” Sarah laughed at Paisley’s impression of Jake. “Those were his exact words, so he can’t be mad.”

Sarah shook her head, giggling at Paisley as she made her way to the bra and panty section of the store.

She took out her phone and sent a quick text to the group chat she had with Phoenix and Alyssa asking for their opinions.

Then she browsed the section, pulling out four sets to try on.

But to be perfectly honest, she was gonna buy all four regardless of whether or not they would be worn on Valentine’s Day. She’d find an occasion to wear it.

Grabbing the four sets she went up to the desk and asked for a fitting room, getting led to one immediately.

She took a photo of all four hung up and sent them to the group chat. She quickly tried them on, checking how each of them fit. Surprising they all fit her pretty comfortably and she liked how the colors complemented her skin tone.

After she had gotten redressed and hung everything back on their hangers, she looked them over, along with the pictures she took. She put her hands on her hips, “Okay, which one of you would really get Jake’s motor running?”

A knock startled her out of her thoughts.

“Yes?” “I’ve been looking for you.” “Oh sorry Pay,” Sarah gathered up her things and the sets before stepping out, only to find Paisley leaned up against the wall with her arms crossed.

“What were you doing?” Sarah furrowed her brow, “Um, trying on somethings. That is what you do in a fitting room PT.” The blonde pushed off the wall, “Why didn’t you tell me?” “You were looking at something, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

A ding interrupted the conversation.

Sarah pulled her phone out, receiving another message in the process.

“Who’s that?” “Alyssa and Phoenix, I need their opinion on something,” she answered, looking at the text. She sighed, “Damn it.” “What?” “They said two different ones.”

Paisley gestured to herself, “Maybe I can serve as a final opinion?” Sarah laughed, “No, Paisley, I can’t ask you to pick.” She walked out to the floor and towards the register. Paisley followed her.

“C’mon, Sarah! I’m your best friend, you know I’ll be honest with you,” Paisley whined as Sarah put the items on the counter..

Sarah sighed and turned to Paisley, “Okay, best friend.” She grabbed the two options given to her by the other girls, “Which one of these would make your best friend look hotter so your brother would wanna do her?”

Paisley drew back, frowning before sighing, “The lavender one.” “Thank you.”

Sarah paid for the pieces and they both left the mall.

*********

Jake swung his club, rolling his shoulders as he watched the ball fly off.

“So, what’re you guys doing for Valentine’s Day?” Fanboy asked as he sipped his beer.

“Penny, managed to get someone to work the bar on Valentine’s day so I think we’re going to go for a ride,” Mav said as he lined up his shot. “Motorcycle or plane?” Coyote asked as he leaned on his club. “Probably both.”

Payback gestured toward Rooster, “What about you and Alyssa?” “I’m taking her and Leia to the beach for a picnic, and I’m sending something to school for Leia and to work for Lyss.” Jake turned to Bradley, “And you’re not getting me anything for Valentine’s Day?”

Bradley tried not to laugh and opened his mouth to speak but Jake cut him off, faking crying. “I thought we had something special, man.” Rooster rolled his eyes and pushed him, “Oh, shut up.”

“Oh, hey, what are you and Sarah gonna do Tuesday, Bagman?” Bob asked. “Shockingly, we don't have any plans. Since she’s on her feet all day, I don’t know if she’ll want to do much. But I’ve got flowers to send her and I’ve got a few gifts hidden in my night stand.”

Jake swung his club again, turning to the guys, “Honestly, we could play video games and bake cookies for all I care. I just want to spend time with her.”

Mickey grinned, “Awe is Hangman going soft?” “Around Sarah-” “Javy, don’t finish that sentence,” Jake laughed, shaking his head and walking over to sit down and take a break.

He checked his phone and noticed Sarah had sent him a few outfits so he took the time to react and reply to every single one.

******** When Jake got home later noticed both Sarah and Paisley in the living room.

“You girls have fun?” They nodded and Sarah stood up.

She went to her purse and retrieved Jake’s credit card. “Thank you for letting me use your card, Sweetheart.” He smiled and gave her a kiss, “Of course, Darlin’.”

He walked towards the stairs, “I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can do games and movies.” “Games about movies,” Paisley added in jest. “We do have ‘Blockbuster’ and ‘Movie Movie Game’. I’ve been dying to play those with the squad,” Jake said before he went upstairs.

He got to the bedroom and went to grab some comfy clothes for after his shower and he noticed two bags that Sarah had attempted to hide.

Jake didn’t even try to fight the urge to peek inside, but when he did he noticed the note taped to the bags. “Jake, if you peek at what’s in these bags – you won’t get to see them until I see fit.”

“How would she even know?” He thought before reading on.

“You probably just asked yourself how I would know, because I just will Jake. I’ve got my methods. And even if you don’t believe me – do you really want to take that chance?”

He sighed and decided to wait it out.

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

Jake’s imagination could only run so far with what could be in those bags, and when Monday rolled around – he had to ask.

He rolled onto his side in the bed, “Baby, I saw the bags in the closet. What’s in them? I’ve been going crazy trying to figure it out.” “Part of your gift, Honey,” Sarah giggled a little, turning to face him.

Jake scrunched his nose, “C’mon, please!” He pulled Sarah closer, “I’ll take just a hint.”

She held his eyes, challenging him just a little.

“Please?”

“Ugh, fine.”

He fist pumped, “Yes!”

Sarah rolled her eyes and got out of bed and went to the closet.  “Wait, Sweetheart, I just wanted a hint, you don’t have-” She walked out with a wrapped box. “This is another part of your gift, I meant to give it to you when you got home but I got distracted with dinner.”

Jake sat up, a curious look on his face as he reached out for the box.

He tore off the brown paper and opened the box to reveal three pairs of boxers. He took them out and read what was on them. “I’ve got a heart on for Sarah…” He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand the pun. “‘A heart on’? What the he- Oh!”

Jake and Sarah started laughing.

“I love these, I’m wearing them to work tomorrow.” “No! Jake, what if the guys see those?” “That’s the point, Sugar.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head before going to her side of the bed, “That’s also a hint as to what’s in those bags.”

She could tell that even with his back to her, his brows shot up in shock. “So, now that you have wet dream material, can we go to sleep now?” “You’re mean.” “I love you too, Honey.”

***********

For Jake, the next day could not have gone any slower.

But there were things that made it worth the wait:

When he left that morning, his steering wheel had a note taped to it and a flower fell out of the visor. Jake smiled as he twisted the stem between his fingers.

It was a singular Fall Aster. His favorite.

He had the biggest grin on his face when he walked into the hanger. He put the flower in his book to flatten it and help preserve it. which he put in his cockpit next to his photo of her.

When he began to change, Jake did get teased for the underwear, but he didn’t care; he loved them.

“Nice boxers, Bagman,” Fritz had commented. “Thank you, Fritz. Sarah got them for me,” Jake grinned, pulling his flight suit up his legs.

Later that day at lunch, he opened the one Sarah had packed him and found another note.

“Guys! Guys! Guys!” Jake said, excitedly as he waved for them to come closer.

“Wait, did Sarah pack you lunch?” Payback asked. “Of course she did, because she’s fucking awesome,” Jake bragged as he pulled out a note. “And she wrote me a note! I’m the luckiest man on the planet right now!”

Coyote leaned over, “What does it say?”

“Hi, Love! Happy Valentine’s Day! I can’t wait to sit around the house with you! The Minecraft house has been needing renovations, so I hope you’re ready for that. I love you so much! Fly safe- Love Sarah (p.s. you have a nice ass 😙)”  

“You guys have a Minecraft house?” Fanboy asked, brow arched in question. “Yes we have a Minecraft house Garcia. You don’t?” “No,” the WSO chuckled. “Well I think that says more about you than it does me.”

Rooster then walks in with his lunch.

“Rooster!!!” Jake shouts. “What?!” “Did Alyssa write you a note too?”

**********

Meanwhile with Sarah, she felt her day went by too fast.

She had woken up that morning to put both the note and flower in Jake’s truck and then the one in his lunch. And then crawled back into bed and pretended she never left it.

Jake brought her breakfast and sat with her as she ate before he went to work.

The day was a fun day in all her classes, except they still needed to practice.

They had cookies and cupcakes, and they played games. It was a day practically designed to go by quickly.

When she came back to her room after seventh grade practice, there were flowers on her desk and a giant stuffed lavender cow in her desk chair.

She giggled and shook her head before going over to her desk. Smiling at the stuffed cow, she moved it and sat it on the floor.

She sat in her desk chair and looked at the flowers on the desk. From a distance she hadn’t noticed that they had a hand drawn cow print design on the petals. There was a card propped up against them.

“Hey Sugar, Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you like the flowers, and the cow (her name is Vandy, btw). I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a real cow and that the flowers are fake. I will make up for it at home though, I promise. 😉 I love you so much and the little rascals too. Check your fridge, there’s a treat for all of you in there. Forever and Ever, Jake ♥️ (p.s. I can’t stop thinking about tonight, you’ve got me all riled up at work – I hope you’re proud of yourself)”

Sarah smiled and opened her mini-fridge to find a box of chocolate dipped strawberries. “I’m so lucky,” she whispered to herself as she pulled them out.

She quickly took a video of herself doing a happy dance while eating a strawberry to send to Jake.

**********

By the time Jake got home, Sarah had been home for an hour.

He walked up to the front door and unlocked it before going inside.

“Honey, I’m home!” He cheesily sang out, sitting his bag down before going further into the house. “I’m in the living room, Babe!”

Jake smiled and jogged around the corner and into the living room.

Sarah stood up straight from her position in front of the TV where she had turned on the console. “Hi, Sweetheart, how was work?” Jake shrugged, “It was okay. Day drug on if I’m bein’ honest.” “Oh, I’m sorry Baby.” “It’s okay, I’m home with you now, so it’s much better.”

She walked up to him and kissed him, “Well, I’m happy to hear that.” She noticed that only one of his hands found its place on her hip. She stepped back, “What ya got behind your back there, Cowboy?”

Jake smiled and revealed a bouquet of real flowers.

Sarah gasped a little bit, reaching out to gently take them from Jake. “These are beautiful, Jake. You didn’t have to. I loved the cow print ones.” Jake smiled and placed both hands in their rightful places, “I’m glad. But I told you I would make up for the lack of real ones and I’m a man of my word, Darlin’.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

“Thank you, Jake,” she whispered against his lips, looking into his eyes. “I love you.” He smiled down at her and kissed her lips before wrapping his arms around her, “I love you too.” “Go get changed, and then we can get started on dinner.”

**********

After eating dinner and playing video games, Sarah and Jake decided to exchange their serious gifts.

They sat criss-cross on the floor with their backs against the couch with a rom-com going on in the background and switched gifts.

“You go first,” Jake said, gesturing to the jewelry box. Sarah untied the ribbon and opened the black velvet box. 

Inside was a necklace and a key ring. “Awe, Jake, these are so cute. I love them, thank you!” She leaned forward and kissed him before sitting back. “I take it the key ring is yours?” Jake nodded and pulled both out. 

He slotted the heart charm into the heart-shaped hole, “See, it fits perfectly. Completely fills the gap.” He looked down at her, his green eyes gentle and full of love, “Just like you and me.” Sarah smiled and looked up at him, her brown eyes warm and full of adoration for the man next to her. “You’re a dork.” “Eh,” he shrugged. “I’m your dork, though.” 

She rolled her eyes and sat her gift on the table, “Open yours now.” 

Jake smiled and opened the box, finding two necklaces. “So, whose is whose?” Sarah shrugged, “I wanted you to pick. I’m okay with either.” Jake nodded, “Okay, I think, you should have the key. I know guys traditionally have the key, but I was a pretty tough nut to crack in the beginning; you deserve it.” 

He closed the box and sat it next hers on the table. “Thank you Sugar,” he kissed her temple and pulled her into his lap.

He wrapped his arms loosely around her as she relaxed onto his chest, her head falling into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sarah inhaled through her nose, smelling Jake’s cologne. She hummed to herself and placed a few kisses on Jake’s neck.

Jake took a sharp inhale when her lips met his skin and his arms tightened around her. He felt her smile against his neck as she continued to kiss it.

She kissed whatever skin she could find, pulling breathy noises from Jake. “You like that Jake?” He nodded, “Mmhhmm~” She found his sweet spot and felt him tense under her. She gave that spot extra attention while planting her knees into the carpet and grinding down against him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” his hips jutted up and his breath was shaking. He moved one hand to the back of her neck and pulled her into a heated kiss.

Sarah was whimpering into his mouth, pulling back to catch her breath. Jake began kissing her neck, his hands moving underneath her sweatshirt. His hands roamed her skin as his lips trailed all over her neck. “Are you ready for your surprise?” She asked, instinctively rolling her hips.

Jake groaned against her neck, “Hell yes.”

She got up and helped him up, dragged him by his hand to the stairs.

He was kissing her up the steps, pressing her against the wall a few times and kissing her senseless.

“Baby, the more stops we take, the less time we have for the surprise,” Sarah giggled, head tilted to the side as Jake peppered her neck with kisses. “I mean we can always just do it against the wall. Go at it like animals.”

She moaned, “Holy shit, Jake.” She thread her fingers into the hair at the top of his head and pulled him away. “Do you want to see the lingerie or not?” Jake dropped his forehead against hers. “God, yes, please.”

Sarah smirked, “I thought so.”

She grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled him the next few feet to the bedroom.

When he closed the door, she turned to him and pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re fucking perfect,” she said, running her fingertips over his abs before palming him through his sweatpants.

Jake moaned lightly, jaw clenching as his hands twitched. “Please, Sugar~” “Get undressed down to your boxers and sit on the bed.” She pecked his lips before going to the ensuite bathroom.

“Yes, ma’am,” he did as told and waited patiently.

Sarah changed into the lavender piece, quickly touched up her make-up and fluffed her hair a bit before walking back into the room.

Jake’s eyes lifted the moment he heard the bathroom door open. He moved to get up but she held a hand out to keep him seated.

She walked up to him, tilting his chin up more with her finger, “What do you think, Love?” Jake gulped and his eyes dilated more. “Can I touch you?”

Sarah glanced down to see his fists knotted in the sheets, “Thank you for asking Baby. Yes, you can touch.”

Jake’s hands cupped the back of her knees before trailing up the backs of her thighs. “You look gorgeous in this color, Sarah.” He gave her butt a little squeeze before moving to the front of her body. “Thank you, Jake.”

He gripped her hips, fingers lacing in the straps there. “I wanna rip this off of you, but I need to see you in this again.”

His voice had significantly lowered and became slightly raspy.

Jake began placing kisses all over her stomach, moving up to kiss where the tops of her breasts were exposed. His hands had followed and cupped her chest.

He pulled her down to straddle him, making her gasp as her clothed center pressed against his cock. “Fuck, Jake.” He groaned against her neck, the desperate tone of the two words going right to his dick.

Jake’s right hand found its way between her thighs, giving her feather light touches. “Is it my turn, Sugar?” “Yes, Jake, please,” she whined, hips jerking slightly at the graze of his fingertips.

He quickly reached behind her and unclasped the bra, standing only to turn and lay her against the pillows. He pulled her bra off and tossed it behind him.

Jake sat back on his heels and looked at her, taking in everything. From the way her hair fanned out around her, and the glow of her skin in the lamp light. All the way to the baby bump he loved to see.

“You’re such a pretty mama, Darlin’,” he gruffed out as he reached forward and ran his knuckle along the side of her face. He smirked when her eyes closed and she inhaled shakily, “You like it when I call you that don’t you, pretty mama?” She nodded, rolling her hips slightly toward him and whimpering a little.

Jake smiled and ran his hands over her legs, spreading her knees to make room for himself.

He shifted forward to press his clothed crotch against hers. “Jake, don’t tease, please. I need you,” Sarah begged, her knees trying to close around his hips while she shifted her own hips to create friction.

“And you’ll have me Sugar, I just need to make sure you’re ready.”

Jake’s fingers danced up her sides before cupping her tits, enjoying the weight of them in his large hands. “Sweet Jesus, are they bigger than they were last time?” Jake groaned out, grinding his cock against he cunt.

He dipped his head to give proper attention to each breast. He kissed, massaged; nipped, licked. Her chest was his canvas and he loved seeing her in purple; marking her chest with his lips to create purple dots.

Beneath him, Sarah was gasping and humming with pleasure. She held his head and her arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Fuck, Jake~” She was grinding her clothed pussy against the hardness pressed against her, searching for any relief.

“I know ~fuck~ I know, Princess.” Jake’s hips rutted against her, craving the stimulation himself. “Jake, I need something, anything.”

He kissed down her torso, his fingers lacing in the bands of her panties.

As he pulled them down, he planted kisses on her legs – making sure to give the plane and hourglass tattoos on her thigh attention when he came back up.

Jake got comfortable on his stomach and her legs naturally fit over his shoulders. He made eye contact with Sarah as he flattened his tongue against her slit. “Oh shit~” Her right hand gripped at his hair and tugged a little, instructing him to move.

Slowly, he licked a fat stripe up her cunt and made eye contact as he re-positioned to do it again.

He repeated the action a few more times before she started to twitch. “Okay, I’ll give you more. You want my fingers Sweetheart?” “Yes, fuck yes~”

He smirked against her pussy before pressing his middle and index fingers against her lips for her to take into her mouth. When she did, he sucked her clit in between his lips and felt her moan around his digits.

She worked faster to prep his fingers, but when Jake’s mouth moved to her entrance and his tongue circled the area, her mouth fell open and he brought the digits down to her clit.

He rubbed slow, feather light circles around her clit as he dipped his tongue in and out of her.

Sarah's grip on his hair tightened as her breathing quickened and short, delicate moans slipped past her lips. He groaned as she tugged, sending delicious vibrations through her nervous system. “Jake, oh my- fuck, Baby.”

Then he switched; moving his mouth back to her clit and his fingers to her entrance, spreading the mixture of slick and spit before pressing his middle finger past the threshold.

“Fuck, you’re tight, baby,” he huffed out, blowing cold air against her cunt. “I gotta warm you up. Just relax for me okay?” He curled his finger, pressing perfectly against her walls. “There you go, Sweetheart.”

“Jake, please,” she didn’t even need to say it. He knew she needed his mouth again, the subtle push of his head was only confirmation. He dove back in, creating a vortex around her clit as his finger curled up.

The moan it drew was throaty, almost surprised, and it made Jake grind his hips down into the mattress.

With her chest heaving, Sarah needed to ask for more; she wanted more. “More please, Jake I need more.” He pulled back, looking up into her eyes, “You think you can handle more?” She nodded, words leaving her and coming out as a high-pitched whine. “Okay, I’ll give you more, pretty mama.”

He pulled his finger out, spitting on her pussy before adding the other and scissoring them slowly as he worked his way in.

Sarah could feel her walls flutter as she accommodated the stretch of the two digits. “Oh my God~” Jake smirked, curling his fingers and making her back arch as she tugged his hair. He repeated the motion while lapping at her pussy.

He felt the grip on his hair disappear and her hips buck against his face. He looked up at her and he wished he had a camera. Her head was thrown back, desperate pants and moans falling from her lips, her eyes squeezed shut. The hand that was in his hair had found purchase on the headboard and the other was twisted in the comforter. She was right there and he wasn’t gonna leave her hanging.

Jake twisted and curled his fingers, alternating how his tongue worked her bundle of nerves. He could hear her moans get louder and closer together.

But then they were muffled and he looked up at her face, seeing that she had covered her mouth. He brought his free hand up and tapped her elbow to get her attention.

She looked down at him and he turned his palm up for her to hold. She grabbed his hand and he gave it a small squeeze.

“Come on pretty mama, cum on my face. Don’t be shy about it,” he grunted out before going back to his ministrations.

“Fuuuuck~ Jake don’t stop,” she moaned out, her left hand pulled at the sheets and her legs tightened around Jake’s head.

It didn’t take long after that for Jake to feel the pull against his fingers and the pulsing of her cunt as she came. “Oh fuck~ hooooly shit!”

He worked her through her first climax and slowed down as he pulled back. He removed his fingers and licked them clean, groaning at the taste of her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how good you taste, Sugar.”

Sarah giggled, still in her post-orgasm high. She brought her left up to caress his face. Jake takes the hand and plants kisses on her palm before kissing her ring. “Come here, Baby,” she cooed and beckoned him closer.

Jake grinned and moved up to her lips, kissing her sweetly as he pressed their conjoined hands into the pillow.

His free hand buried itself in her hair as the kiss turned hungry and desperate. Her free hand drug down his torso, nails gently scratching over his abs. She made it to his boxers, slippy beneath the band to stroke him.

Hissing against her lips, his hips involuntarily jerk forward. “Fuck, Sarah~” His head fell to rest on her shoulder as he moved in time with her strokes. “That’s it – holy shit~”

His nose was pressed into the soft point below her jaw, inhaling her perfume. He whimpered as her thumb ran over his tip, spreading the precum that had beaded there. She pressed a kiss to his temple, whispering in his ear, “Mama needs your cock Jake.”

The growl he let out was both desperate and primal. “Fuck, Sweetheart,” he pulled back, hips still rocking against her palm. “Is that what you need, sweet girl? Daddy’s cock?” “Yes, I need it, please,” she begged, craning her neck up to kiss him.

She removed her hand and snapped the band of his underwear against his Adonis belt. “These are in the way.” Jake chuckled against her lips and pulled away to remove the offending article.

He came back and positioned himself at her entrance, bracing himself on his hand. “You ready, Princess?” “Just fuck me, Jake.”

He chuckled and slowly pushed into her. Sarah’s eyes screwed shut as he stretched her pussy and she wrapped her arms around him.

“Jake, fuck, you’re so- oh my God~” Sarah moaned out. “You’re doing great, Honey,” he praised, shifting to brace himself on both forearms.

When he bottomed out, both of them were breathing shallowly. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Jake gave her a second to get comfortable.

He felt her walls flutter before they relaxed. Her breath shuttered against his neck as she spoke, “Move, please.”

Jake started out slow, pulling out halfway at first before pulling all the way out.

He did that a few times before she started to move with him. That usually meant she needed him to speed up. So, he did.

His lips met hers as he picked up the pace, catching the moans that spilled from her lips.

Sarah hooked a leg over his hip as she buried a hand in the short hair on the back of his head. “Fuck, Jake!” She cried out when he angled his hips up, hitting her g-spot just right.

Jake was pressing kisses all over her neck and face as he thrust in and out of her. His words were incoherent, being so lost in the feeling of his fiancé wrapped around him. But that doesn’t mean he was quiet.

With each roll of his hips, each clench of her cunt and drag of her nails, he was panting and moaning.

He pulled away to watch Sarah as he fucked her. Her tits were bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts and her back arched when he hit those special spots inside of her.

“Holy shit~” He ran a hand through his hair before cupping her jaw.

Sarah made eye contact with him as she wrapped her tongue around his thumb and closed her lips around it. “Oh fuck, Sugar.” After a moment she released it and he brought it down to rub her clit.

Jake watched her face twist in pleasure, “Oh, fuck Jake, I’m gonna cum.” “I can feel ya squeezin’ me Darlin’. Let go when you’re ready, I’ll catch you,” he encouraged, pushing one of her legs up to adjust the angle.

Sarah took the hint and grabbed the back of both of her knees. “Oooooh, that’s it Sweetheart,” he groaned out, rubbing faster circles around her clit.

He got an idea and removed his thumb from her clit, stopping the movement of his hips. “Jaake,” she whined, her hands slipping from her knees in frustration. “Hold on, sweet girl,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up into his lap.

She moaned at the change in position, arms wrapping around his shoulders and her head falling into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Jake, oh my God.” He chuckled and held her head against his shoulder before he started thrusting again.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” she moaned out, arms tightening around him. He smirked cockily, spreading his knees a little further and he thrusted up a little harder. She yelped and bit down on his shoulder, in a futile attempt to quiet herself.

Jake grunted, threading his fingers in her hair and pulling her head up. “No, let me hear you. Let Daddy hear you.” He pressed her forehead against his. “Fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” Jake nearly whimpered but he stopped it from escaping by pressing his lips on hers.

Sarah started to meet his thrusts again, grinding down against him. “I’m so close.” “Let go for me, come on Sweetheart.” He sped up slightly and increased his power.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, Jaaake~,” her entire body tensed as she panted against Jake’s lips.

It took everything in Jake not to cum right then as she looked him in the eye when she reached her peak.

He gently laid her on her back, gradually slowing the movement of his hips until he stopped completely but staying buried deep inside of her.

“Ride me?” Jake asked breathlessly. “Gimme a minute,” she responded, even more breathless. He chuckled and held his weight off her. “Okay, roll over.” Jake maneuvered onto his back, trying his best to stay inside her, and held her against his chest for a second.

When she caught her breath, Sarah circled her hips and he let her go.

She sat up and started to rock, lifting her hips up and sinking back down. “Fuck,” she panted out, her hands bracing themselves on Jake’s chest. His hands came to her hips to help her keep a rhythm. She pressed her knees into the mattress and started bouncing.

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride it like you own it.” Sarah smirked and leaned down next to his ear, “I do own it. This cock is mine.” Jake grunted as his hips canted up to meet hers, “Holy shit, Sarah~”

She propped herself on his chest again and Jake brought his head up to close his lips around her nipple. “Oh shiiiit.” His hand came up to give attention to the other breast, before he switched.

His thrust became erratic and sloppy, signaling he was close; but she started to slow down, her legs shaking with the exertion. “Fuck, Baby, I-I can’t-” He pressed a kiss to her lips, “Shhh, it’s okay. I got you.”

He flipped her back onto her back and picked his paced up.

“Fuck, I’m so close Sweetheart. Are you with me?” She nodded, tears brimming her eyes as she reached overstimulation.

Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as possible as he reached his climax.

“Ooooooh my God, fuuuck, hooooly fuck~” He buried his face into her neck as his entire body shook along with hers.

Feeling Jake’s cum coat her walls, sent Sarah over the edge for the third time. She could only wrap herself tighter around him as she shook and came with a weak cry.

****

It took a few minutes before both could make coherent thoughts again.

Jake swallowed and pulled out slowly, hissing when his soaked dick met the chilled air. He fell onto his side, pulling Sarah close to his side.

“I love pregnancy sex,” she muttered, still slightly in a post-orgasmic haze. Jake snorted slightly, kissing the top of her head, “Me too, Sugar, me too.”

It was silent for a moment, then light snores filled Jake's ears.

He nudged her awake, “Hey, no, we need to get you cleaned up and change the sheets.” She grumbled in protest before sighing in compliance, “Fine.”

Jake got up and went to the bathroom and turned on the bath, adjusting the temp before walking back out to see Sarah shoving the pillows off the bed. “What are you doing?” “You don’t need to change the pillow cases, just the comforter and the sheets.” She wadded up the comforter, looking at the fitted sheet, “Actually, just the comforter. We can change the sheets tomorrow.” Jake shook his head and laughed before scooping her into his arms, “Whatever you say.”

He had sat her on the toilet before plugging the drain and letting it fill up.

As it filled up, he grabbed a rag and got it damp to gently wipe her clean before doing the same to himself.

Once it was full, he put bubbles in it and some salts. He stirred them in with his hands.

“Alright, pretty mama, your bath is ready,” he helped her into the bath and then tied her hair up. “Are you okay? Is the temp okay?” She nodded, rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her wrists. “I know you’re sleepy, but this will help you feel better in the morning. I promise, once the water is cold, we’ll go right to bed,” he kissed her cheek before standing.

She pouted, “Are you not staying?” “I’ll be right back. I need to make the bed. I’ll leave the door open.” She still pouted but nodded and rested her arms and head on the edge of the tub.

It took Jake no more than 7 minutes to come back and settle in behind her in the tub. “Alright, c’mere,” he fondly said, pulling her to his chest. She hummed and relaxed back against him.

They sat in a comfortable silence, Jake caressing Sarah’s bump under the water. “I love you so much. Happy Valentine’s Day, Sarah,” he kissed her forehead. She hummed, tilting up to kiss his jaw, “I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day, Jake.”

When the water started to chill, Jake helped her out of the bath and toweled them both off.

He carried her into the bedroom and slid a fresh pair of boxers up her legs and one of his old shirts over her head and tucked her in before he got dressed.

Once Jake also had a fresh pair of boxers on, he slid into bed next to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Goodnight, Baby. I love you,” Sarah pecked his lips, humming in sleepy amusement as he chased her when she pulled away. “I love you too, forever and ever. Goodnight, Honey.”

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

thank you for being here!

i hope this was enjoyable, both the fluff and the smut. next up is the twins’ gender reveal!!! what you think the twins are gonna be?

I do have a pinterest board set up for this, just to help me get into the vibe (one is to help with future parts, one is only for the current parts)

SO

if you want to check it out and get more of a feel for the dynamic going on---- you can click right --->   here

like mentioned in the last one, feedback is greatly appreciated!

and my asks are open, feel free to request what you would like to see next while i’m working on the next part!

tags <3: @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​

thank you my lovelies <33​

[comphy-and-cozy]

must've made a mistake - jt compher

Pairing: JT Compher x Reader (f)

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Suggestive/adult content (18+ recommended), discussions about sex/sexual implications, alcohol use/consumption, even more insanity than last time. Still a medium burn/banter that's basically foreplay but no actual sexy times (sorry I know it hurts me too).

← LAST PART | → NEXT PART ← BACK TO SERIES MASTERLIST ← BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

August 2023

The dull roar of people chattering surrounds you, speakers lowly playing some top-100 hit with a beat. It’s ignored, just background music amid the dusk sky and twinkle lights strewn among the rafters above you.

It’s August in Detroit, meaning the air is sticky and humid, and everyone is on some form of patio or rooftop drinking on this Friday night. You’re at your favorite local watering hole with a few friends, celebrating the end of another work week. The cowl neck tank you have on is thin, but your skin is still hot beneath the silk fabric. Fortunately, the sangria in your glass is perfect and the very light breeze wafting through the patio feels like heaven.

You’re on your way back from the bathroom when you see the flash of auburn hair. Your heart does a flip, suddenly pulsing faster in your chest, and you slip back to your table with a smile. With a glance back to confirm the ivory skin and thick, russet beard, you feel your heart flutter. Of course you saw he signed with the Red Wings; how could you not? His name was one of the hottest to come out of free agency, all of the chatter and podcasts hosts repeating his name over and over again to make sure you never forgot the time that JT Compher bought you a drink. 

It also brought back memories of the time you drunkenly told JT Compher that you wrote fanfic about him. Smutty fanfiction. And then left him standing helplessly in that Denver bar, running away with your heart pounding in your chest. 

You regretted it as soon as the door shut behind you, the opportunity already vanished like it never existed in the first place. Still, you never forgot a single detail about that night, about the way he gazed at you and the low, sultry purr of his voice; you’re pretty sure if you hadn’t been an absolute coward, it would’ve been one of the best nights of your life, and, quite possibly, the best sex of your life. The thought still brings a dull pulse between your legs, kicking yourself for ruining a literal dream.

But there he is, in the flesh, and for a moment your mind flits to wonder if this could be a second chance. It’s been almost two years since your run-in, an entire championship under his belt in that time. Not only will he surely not remember you, but who knows what’s changed for him—things have certainly changed for you. 

Except your burning desire for him. That has never wavered; if anything, it grew, once you learned what his hot breath felt like against your skin and the way it felt to make him laugh at something you said. Even though your following of the sport diminished due to shifting priorities, you’ve found those warm, hickory eyes appear in your dreams just often enough to ensure that he’s never too far removed from your mind.

Unfortunately, there’s also the regrettable factor that you wrote—with vivid detail—about having sex with him. He’d said he was flattered, but was he just being polite, not wanting to embarrass you? You remember the way his eyes poured into yours, the flash in them when he probed for more details, the way they warmed you from the inside out, and the flicker of hope flashes ever so quickly. He’s here, in Detroit, for five years, you think, so there’s plenty of time to see what might unfold.

You don’t have to wait long to see, for not an hour later he’s sidling up next to you at the bar with a look that tells you he remembers exactly who you are. Like maybe he never forgot a single detail about you, either. 

“You stalking me now?”

A smirk forms on his face at his own joke, and you return a smile, adding smoothly, “I was here first, Compher. So I could ask you the same question.”

He laughs at your quip and shrugs noncommittally. “I plead the fifth.”

“You’re the one who signed in Detroit. Long-term. After I told you where I was from.”

“You caught me,” he says, a faux confession paired with hands held up. But then, his cool demeanor flickers ever so slightly as his third seltzer starts to hit his system. “I’m not—I wasn’t stalking you, but I have been hoping I’d run into you.”

Your heart flutters at his admission. “Is that so?”

He pauses as he debates what he wants to say next, and your eyes are drawn to the way his tongue darts out to run along his bottom lip, a shine remaining even as his tongue disappears back into his mouth. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you can’t remember how you got here. You really can’t remember much outside of the thick, red beard, perfectly manicured, shrouding around his perfect, full lips—

“I found it.” His voice pulls you from your introspection, and you’re thankful and simultaneously hopeful he didn’t notice you staring. 

Stealing one last glance at his lips, you rack your brain to conjure whatever it was that he said to you a moment ago. If he notices your pause, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Found what?”

“Your—what is it called?—your fanfiction.”

Your heart freezes and sinks in an instant, mortification settling into your bones. You weren’t expecting that to come up so quickly into your reunion, foolishly hoping that maybe he’d forgotten about that detail. Surely, you think, he’s about to pull a restraining order out of his pocket and ban you from ever coming to a Red Wings—no, scratch that, any NHL game again. 

JT chuckles; your face must have betrayed your emotion. “Relax. I’m not mad or weirded out or anything.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, your brain entirely short circuiting as he thrives off of your discomfort, leaning in closer until you can feel the whiskers of his beard tickling the shell of your ear. 

“Actually, I thought it was really hot.”

He what?

You swallow, hardly believing what you heard come out of his mouth; in fact, you’re sure that you misheard him, the noise from the patrons around you drowning out his voice. Words have completely slipped from your mind, the ability to speak vanished in an instant. Surely this is all just a horrific prank and he’ll laugh at you for even believing it, hidden cameras ready to embarrass you into oblivion.

But the laughter never comes, nor the cameras, instead a gentle but confident touch to the back of your arm that lights you on fire. It’s only when your breath hitches in your throat that a smile forms on his face, lips curling upward against your ear. 

“You—you did?” you finally manage to choke out, only then realizing that you haven’t actually responded to his admission.

He hums and nods, pulling away as you do your best to gasp for air without it being obvious that your lungs are screaming, heart thumping rapidly against your sternum. “But I do have to say, you got a few things wrong.”

“W–wrong?”

The color of his eyes have turned into the most delicious shade of rich brown, swimming with warmth and no shortage of hunger. He holds your gaze intently, as if he wants you to see, and get the feeling that he’s reading into your soul. It’s unnerving and incredibly sexy, joke or not.

“I would use my fingers and then my mouth to make my girl come,” he says, as smoothly as if he was asking you to pass the salt at the dinner table. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head before he adds, “But you were right that I would make sure my cum is dripping down her leg.”

At that moment, you’re positive that your brain stops working altogether. The drink you’re sipping on goes down the wrong pipe, and suddenly you’re spluttering in shock. JT hardly reacts, just chuckles slightly to himself, almost like he’s expecting your reaction. In fact, he seems to be flourishing under your bewilderment.

A few loud, embarrassing coughs later, all you can manage is, “Oh.”

“And before you ask, it wasn’t necessarily a factor in my signing with Detroit, but I won’t lie that I did think about you afterwards. Wondered if I’d see you again, somewhere.”

A second bullet, straight to your chest, shock blooming in its wake. He had thought about you? He remembered you?

“You’re cute when you’re confused.”

A third bullet. Call the ambulance. Alert the authorities. Cardiac arrest is surely not far away, not if he keeps making admissions that are more shocking than pigs flying. 

Finally, your senses find their way back to you, like a cold splash of water to pull you out of your daze. “Okay, so when does Ashton Kutcher come out?”

He laughs at your Punk’d reference, all teeth and the sound syncing with the beat of your heart. “Why do you think you’re being pranked?”

“Because guys like you… they don’t–” you stutter, gesturing lamely between the two of you in lieu of saying, ‘Guys like you don’t go for girls like me.’

“Why not?” he poses, as if he’s privy to the thoughts in your head, and another wave of embarrassment washes over you as you imagine him reading all of the explicit thoughts running through your mind. “You’re beautiful.”

“Okay, first off, you’re not supposed to have this much rizz,” you say. “It’s not fair.”

Another laugh that cuts at the edges of your soul, simmering the heat in your chest. There’s a beat of silence, a pregnant pause that holds so much more than you can even fathom. 

“You gonna come home with me this time?” he asks. His eyes glitter as he teases you, subtle and comfortable.

“Do you even have a home yet?”

Maybe—okay, definitely—you’re deflecting, but you’re enjoying the banter, liquid courage giving you more confidence to tease him back. Even more than that, you’re enjoying the feeling of making him laugh, prepared to say anything to keep his eyes on you, enveloping you in warmth that you’re pretty sure has nothing to do with the sangria. The look in his eyes makes you shiver, wanting to bathe in the feeling it casts over you.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

You look at him, eyebrow raised, expectantly waiting for more. Then his expression turns bashful, and he says, “Okay, so I’m staying in Larks’ spare bedroom while I wait for my apartment lease to start next month. So technically I didn’t lie.”

“Big bucks Compher can’t cough up the cash to buy a house, huh?”

He snorts into his drink, shaking his head as he laughs. “I don’t know the area outside of Ann Arbor and where I’ve stayed for games. Could use a tour guide, actually.”

The implication is clear, hanging like a big, shiny mistletoe between you. He looks at you hopefully, waiting for you to take the bait.

“And you want me to be your tour guide, I’m guessing?”

JT shrugs, sending you the most innocent look he can muster. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to having a pretty girl show me around my new city.”

You shake your head with a laugh, doing mental gymnastics to come to terms with what he’s saying: he wants to see you again, wants to spend time with you outside of a dimly-lit bar or a sterile, modest fan event. You’re not even going to address him calling you pretty for the second time. 

“I’ll consider it,” you reply in your best nonchalant attempt. Against your better judgment, unable to resist, you ask, “What’s in it for me?”

He smirks, and you can practically see all of the filthy thoughts running through his mind. He holds his cards close to his chest, though, instead tossing the ball back in your court, like he’s testing to see if you’ll play. “What do you want?”

At his question, your mind is surely echoing the same ideas he has: flashes of bare skin, heated kisses, whispers of his name in the darkness. You feel another pulse between your legs at the mental image it draws. “What a loaded question, Compher.”

JT smiles into his drink, debating his next step. There’s a beat while he waits for you to contemplate, but no words come out—you can’t give in, not yet.

“Would it help if I told you something I’m embarrassed to admit too?”

Oh. He’s good. And it would, you admit, help to even the playing field. So you nod, yes, and he smiles in a way that tells you he was hoping you’d agree, that he has something he wants to share with you.

With a dramatic glance around, he leans in closer to you, the scruff of his beard sliding against your cheek. His cologne is the same, that same delicious and woody scent that instantly has moisture pooling between your thighs. It’s the depth of his voice that nearly makes your legs buckle first, and then you’re registering what he said.

“I jerked off to what you wrote.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, belly doing a triple-axle flip before heat courses through your body. The sound of his low chuckle is in your ear, and you realize your hand is gripping his bicep to hold yourself upright. And damn, if it doesn’t feel even better than you expected beneath your fingertips; strong and firm and something you want to see bracketed around your head while he— 

“Can I tell you one more?” he asks, and you’re nodding so fast you want to kick yourself, but you can’t help it. You’re completely under his spell, all willpower marching out the door; you’d jump off a bridge if he asked you to. 

“I thought about you.”

The whimper that leaves your throat is involuntary, stomach lurching, and you can feel the way his lips curl on his face at your reaction. 

“So is that a yes?” he asks. Then his confidence falters slightly, his eyes darting around. “You don’t–you’re not–you’re not seeing someone, are you?”

It takes you a moment to regain the strength of your voice, still completely struck by what he said. How could he possibly behave normally when he’d just flipped your entire world upside down and set it on fire?

“No,” you shake your head after a moment to get your words together. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

JT hums in approval, his hand lingering on your waist even when he pulls away to sip at his drink. The fairy lights on the patio have turned on, glowing in the now-dark sky, and the hue illuminates the gold in his hair. He’s handsome, even more so now than he was before, maybe now that he has the confidence of winning a Stanley Cup. Or maybe it’s just the way he’s looking at you, like he’d devour you right now on the spot if you let him. You would, if he asked. 

Another beat passes before you’re nodding, finally, agreeing wordlessly—to everything. For real this time. “I do have one caveat, though.”

“What’s that?” There’s a flash in his eyes, brief, that says, anything.

“Your tour of Detroit starts tonight, because, no offense to Dylan, I’m not going back to his house to… well. I’m just not.”

He grins, filling in the blanks of your pause, pleased that he’s been successful in his endeavor; you try not to think about the last time you agreed to leave a bar with him. “Deal.”

A little while later, your drink is finished and your heart is beating in your throat at the prospect of the rest of the evening, half expecting him to bail on you, the way you bailed on him. He doesn’t, instead introduces you to the guys he came with, and you smile shyly, hoping that he didn’t tell them everything. The look on Dylan’s face when JT tells him he won’t be home tonight makes you want to hide yourself behind his large frame, allowing the heat in your cheeks to consume you until you melt into the floor. His eyes flick to yours with a knowing smirk, all too pleased that his friend is getting a proper welcome to Detroit.

Your friends react less, a nod and a practiced smile after you give them the code word for, ‘I’m going home with this guy and I’m good.’  You watch Kelly’s eyes flick to JT standing behind you, closing his tab, and she sends you a glance of approval. 

It isn’t long before you’re on the sidewalk, the door closing behind JT in a strange display of finality as the loud chatter from inside the bar gets shut in. Suddenly, standing beside him is so much more intimate in the quiet street, without the other people and noise surrounding you in a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. 

JT pulls out his phone, seemingly unfazed by the change. “Should I call an Uber?”

“I’m actually only a few blocks away,” you explain. “Besides, you asked me to be your tour guide, didn’t you?”

His phone is pocketed with a smirk, and he gestures for you to lead the way. You’re nervous, more than you were inside, feeling the way he steps into stride beside you. His feet are heavier on the ground than yours, his gait much wider, though he slows his pace to match yours.

Unable to bear the silence—comfortable though it is—you point to the buildings around you, showing him where some of the best restaurants and bars are, briefly touching on some of the history of the city with your explanation. His eyes take in everything you’re showing, listening attentively, and you almost stop dead in your tracks when you feel his hand graze yours, loosely entwining your fingers together. The action nearly makes your heart melt, suddenly faced with an onslaught of not just lustful feelings, but romantic ones as well. 

This bitchy ginger is going to be the death of me.

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is pleasant, nice even, though it affords you the opportunity to fantasize what it’d be like to do this with him every night, his warm hand in yours as he tells you about his day. 

As you step in front of him to badge into the door to your apartment, feeling his gaze on your ass, you remind yourself that there won’t be an every night; there’s only going to be one night, so you better make it one to remember.

Tag list: @somuchf4rstardust @smileysvech @senditcolton @fallinallincurls

[catonthesideoftheroad]

tags: drug deal, sinclair!reader, not edited

word count: 1.3k

a/n: request for stranger things are open

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

THE STORY OF US- EDDIE MUNSON

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

part one | part two | part three | part four

masterlist

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚. ༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

"What are you doing after school?" Chrissy whispered as she sat beside at the lunch table

"Nothing,"

"Can you come with me to meet up with someone?"

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"It's nothing bad, it's just-" She was cut off when Eddie Munson hopped on top of his table with one of his monthly speeches about high school and "forced conformity" and whatever else he decided he just needed to get off his chest.

"- Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!" Eddie yelled over to our table

Chrissy's boyfriend Jason shot up from his spot, having taken some offense from the weak insult.

"You need something freak?" Jason called out as Eddie just point his fingers by his ears to make horns and hissed, turning around and going back to his group shortly after.

I rolled my eyes at the interaction and turned back towards Chrissy, "Yeah, I'll go with you,"

"It's just a little further," Chrissy said as we walked through the woods behind the school

"Jesus, Chris. I would've said 'no' if I knew it was out here,"

"I'm sorry, (Y/N/N)," Chrissy stopped, "You can go back if you want. This is probably stupid anyways," She mumbled

"It's okay.” I rested a hand on her shoulder and started walking again until we saw a wooden bench a couple feet away.

I shoved the crushed up beer cans off the table and sat down on the old wooden bench and smoothed out my cheer jacket, making sure to wipe off any dirt before tonight's game. I noticed Chrissy staring at an old tree with a scared expression on her face.

“Chris,” I put a hand on her shoulder and she whipped her head around to look at me, her curled ponytail swinging

“You okay?” I asked

She back at the tree then at me, “Yeah. Di- did you not hear that clock?”

I shook my head ‘no’ and lead her back to the picnic table, “Maybe you should just sit down, yeah,”

She nodded and played with the hem of her skirt.

I backed away from her slowly, getting closer to the tree before I ran into something.

I turned around to see Eddie in his infamous Hellfire shirt with his hands up in surrendering motion, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,”

"Why are you here, Munson?" I put my hand over my heart

Eddie held up his black metal lunchbox and placed it on the picnic table before sitting down, “I’ve got a new client Sinclair,” Eddie said

I’ve been buying from Eddie since last summer. I was talking to a couple guys on the baseball team and they all told me where they get their weed from and I knew I needed something to help with the anxiety I got after Starcourt.

Lucas and his little friends dragged Erica and I into defeating the ‘Mind Flayer’ as they called jt. Explaining what had actually happened to Will in the years prior. How they thought they got rid of in ‘84 only for it to come in it’s physical form the next summer and take over Billy and have him control a large army of Hawkins residents. Then I saw Billy die. I didn’t feel bad, he’s was a racist piece of shit, but no one should have to watch someone get killed. Especially by a inter-dimensional monster.

I looked at Chrissy and she stood up, walking over to me, "I know you smoke sometimes an- and I just need something to help with-" Chrissy whispered, playing with her hands and looking at the ground

"The nightmares, I know," I looked back at Eddie who was playing with his watch, “C’mon,” I walked over to he table and sat down, Chrissy taking the seat next to me.

“You’re okay.” I assured her, noticing how tense she was, “No one ever comes out here,”

Eddie nodded while taking off his leather jacket and jean vest combo before sitting down again and opened the metal box.

“So how does this work exactly?” Chrissy asked

Eddie propped his head up on his hand, “Uh, like any other old sale, except, uh, cash only, and for obvious reasons, no receipts.” He pulled a bag of weed out, “I’ll do you a half ounce for, uh, 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last you a while,” He hens the bag in front of us

“That’s good,” I mumbled and went to take the bag from him before Chrissy turned around at the sound of a squirrel running up a tree.

“Hey, uh, we don’t need to do this. Just give me the word and I’ll walk away,” Eddie put the bag back in the box and closed it

“It’s not that. I don’t want you to go,” Chrissy started

“She’s just nervous, Eddie, give her a break,”

“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?” Chrissy asked

Eddie’s eyes darted between us, “Just on a daily basis. I kinda feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High.” He looked at, “Of course, I also felt that way when I dealt to (Y/N) here,” A shit eating grin took up his face as he tapped on the table

“Shut up, Munson,” I groaned

“You know, me and Sinclair here used to be best friends,”

Chrissy gave him a questioning glance and looked at me.

“Yeah, until she was taken by the dark side,” He rolled back off the bench causing Chrissy to gasp and me to roll my eyes at his dramatics, “Just like her brother,”

“Dark side?” Chrissy asked

“He means being popular,” I explained

Chrissy nodded and gave her attention back to Eddie.

“Do I have stuff in my hair?” He asked as he brushed through his hair with his fingers and Chrissy laughed

“Middle school. Talent show. You did the cheer thing,” He shook his imaginary pom poms around, “You know, the thing you do,” A small smile swept across my face at the memory, “And I- we with our band,”

“Corroded Coffin,” I said

“Oh my God! I remember that!” Chrissy laughed, “You played the drums!” She exclaimed and pointed to me

I shook my head with a large smile on my face

“You look so different,” Chrissy said

“Yeah, it was like five years ago. I was a lot more…” My voice fell off trying to find the right word

“Angry. She was a lot more angry back then,” Eddie spoke up

“You looked so different too,”

“Yeah, well my hair was buzzed, and I didn’t have the sweet ol’ tatties yet,” He pulled down the collar of his shirt showing off his chest tattoo

“You played guitar,”

Eddie shook his head, “Still do. Still do,” He looked at me, “And Sinclair kills a drum solo,”

The grin on Chrissy’s face was still going strong, “I didn’t know you guys were friends,”

“Yeah, well. Life happens.” Eddie shrugged

I clicked my tongue and looked at the ground

“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be like,” Chrissy said

“Mean and scary?” Eddie asked and put a piece of his hair in front of his face

Chrissy nodded

“(Y/N) tell you that?” Eddie asked, humor laced through his voice

“No, it’s-“

“I’m kidding,” Eddie said, “To be honest, I actually thought you’d be kinda mean and scary too,” Eddie walked back up to the bench

“Me?” Chrissy giggled

“Terrifying, but then I saw Sinclair so you couldn’t be that bad compared to her,” He poorly whispered

“Ha-ha,” I said

Eddie pulled his lunchbox out again and reopened it, “Uh, so I’ll give you a 25 percent discount for the half.” He looked over at me, “I call it the Sinclair Special but flattery works with me so. It’s 15 bucks. You’re robbing me blind here, you know,” he drops the bag in front of Chrissy

Chrissy hesitated for a second, “Do you have anything, maybe, stronger?”

“What do you mean stronger?” I asked

“Just something more I guess,” Chrissy mumbled

“I got some Special K back at mine,” Eddie offered

I looked at him with wide eyes, “Chrissy, I don’t think this is a good idea,”

She looked at me with sad eyes, “I know, but I think it’ll help for a while,”

“Chris-“ I tried to reason

“Please, (Y/N),” Chrissy begged

“Fine,” I sighed

“What are you doing tonight?” Chrissy asked Eddie

“Uh,” He looked at me then back at Chrissy, “I have my club tonight but it should end about the same time as the game,”

Chrissy nodded, “Okay, I’ll meet you after the game then,” She said and stood up, “Thank you, Eddie,” She said and started walking away

Eddie started closing his lunchbox and putting his jacket back on

“Thank you,” I said

“What for?”

“Calming her down. She’s just been having a hard time lately and it’s just been a lot for her,”

Eddie looked at me with a small smile, “It’s what I do best,”

“I’ll see you after the game,” I said and waved goodbye

[jostystyles]

the futures better than yesterday | tj

a/n: here’s a soft josty fic to fix the pain I caused with the last one <3 this can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but as a stand alone is fine! this is heavily inspired by this tiktok. title comes from best years by 5sos! enjoy and let me know what you think as always <3

warnings: fluff, lots of it. swearing

word count: 2.4k

The universe works in mysterious ways. Some people believe in destiny, some in luck, and some not at all. In (Y/N)’s case, she didn’t really know what to believe. All she knows is that someone on the other side is looking out for her. If we’re talking fate, then it must’ve been fate that she moved to Denver for school. And it was fate that she became friends with Susanna. And it was fate again that allowed the love of her life to manifest in the form of Tyson Jost.

Two years ago, (Y/N) was just a heartbroken soul who gave up on finding true love. Then she was a nervous wreck on a blind date. But now, she thinks she would relive every single heartbreak she’s ever had if it meant she was where she is today.

Her relationship with Tyson has been nothing short of a whirlwind. And it isn’t the kind of relationship that fades: she knew they were in it for the long haul. They had both mutually agreed that the future wouldn't be worthwhile if they didn’t have each other in it. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. They were long past the phases of puppy love and honeymoons, and had their fair share of arguments and self doubts. But it was their own version of perfect. No one understood (Y/N)’s need for quiet nights to herself with a romance novel and a candle like Tyson did. And no one understood Tyson’s love for self care nights and pink moscato like (Y/N) did. There was a level of mutual respect that existed between them, and a series of actions that said those three little words more than they needed to be spoken.

Just over 3 months ago was when they made the leap to move in together. The lease on (Y/N)’s apartment was coming to an end, and her old sedan was starting to require more trips to the shop due to the excess driving between places. Not to mention (Y/N)’s neighbor was probably getting sick of babysitting her dog so often. So, one morning after (Y/N) had slept over Tyson had woken her up with breakfast and a handwritten letter asking her to move in with him.

Now, when Tyson arrived home from a rough game or a roadie, he didn’t have to sleep in a cold bed. His home was much lighter now, and he could see in every room the touch that (Y/N) brought to it. Like his couch, that was now decorated with throw pillows and blankets to match. The picture frames that were empty on his walls now hung filled with pictures of him with his family, Kacey’s graduation photo, memories from their relationship, some of him and the team, and even some of (Y/N)’s niece. It was no longer his “sad bachelor pad” as deemed by EJ, it was a home.

The only downside to living together was the fact that he had to leave her for roadies. Many mornings he would wake up, limbs tangled with hers and his head in the crook of her neck, listening to (Y/N)’s soft reprimands telling him he has to pack. They would spend too long saying goodbye, sharing sweet kisses and laughs until Tyson’s phone would buzz repeatedly with texts from JT complaining they’d be late.

Yesterday was one of those days. Tyson left for his longest roadie of the season and he’d be gone for almost 2 and a half weeks. They’d been apart for much longer, especially the first summer they were together. Now, they spend their summers in Alberta, Denver, and visiting (Y/N)’s family. But that didn’t make being apart any easier.

(Y/N) woke up to heavy breathing in her face. Opening her eyes, she was met with the scrunched face of her bulldog, Pickles. “Jesus, P. You sure don’t wake me up as romantically as Daddy does.” She remarked, swinging her feet off the side of the bed. Grabbing her phone, she saw a few texts from her coworkers detailing the day’s work, some notifications from instagram, and then a few from Tyson. A smile found it’s way across her face as she opened them.

Tyson🥰

Good morning lovebug, hope u slept well. Facetime me when u get a chance, wanna see ur beautiful face :)

She laughed before locking her phone and exiting the bedroom. She grabbed her headphones and Pickles’ leash before taking him for a quick walk so he could do his business. The sounds of Tyson’s playlist titled “lovebug” filled her ears. He made her the playlist for their first anniversary, and she's pretty sure there’s not a day that goes by that she doesn't listen to it. Returning to the apartment, she started up her work computer and took a quick look at some emails, before starting the iced coffee maker and pressing the camera button on Tyson’s contact. The familiar jingle of Facetime’s loading call rang for about 3 seconds, before she was met with the smiling face of her boyfriend.

“Good morning, lovebug!” He exclaimed. The dark wood of the hotel bed frame was seen behind him as he was propped up against it, his one arm thrown behind his head. His mop of unruly curls fell into his face and his brown eyes were lively, but full of sleep. (Y/N) could tell he had just woken up, and she tried not to make it to obvious when her eyes ran over the bit of his bare chest she could see.

“Good morning handsome, how’d you sleep? Are you feeling jet lagged at all?” She questioned.

Tyson’s camera moved as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. “Sleep was fine, not the same without you though.” A disgruntled gag sounded from behind the camera. “Comphs don't let me cuddle him like you do unfortunately.” Tyson said with a smirk.

“He just wails in his sleep about how much he misses you!” JT joked from across the room.

(Y/N) laughed, knowing full well they were both liars because she had caught them in a very cuddly position many times after a few too many drinks.

“You guys are dorks. What’s up for today?” She asked, sipping on her coffee.

“Gonna go grab some grub with the boys then head out to morning skate. Gabe wants to do some team bonding too so we’ll see what that entails, eh? What about you? Lotsa work?” Tyson said, running his hands through his curls.

“Not really, just gonna finish some reports and I have a couple meetings and an interview lead.”

As she finished her sentence, she heard a knock on the door. Pickles let out a small woof but not at all moving from his bed.

“Hold on babe, there’s someone at the door.” She said, taking their call with her.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be, Kind of early.” Tyson said calmly, but (Y/N) was too focused to have any suspicion.

She looked through the peephole and saw no one, but noticed a package outside the door.

“Hmm, that’s strange. Someone left a package though.” She told him.

“Oh, really? Interesting.” Tyson said. (Y/N) stopped for a second, and narrowed her eyes before saying, “What.”

“Nothing! Just see what it is.”

She let out a huff before opening the door and grabbing the package. It wasn’t too heavy, just kind of bulky. Balancing her phone on top, she walked back towards the kitchen, her suspicion growing that her curly headed boyfriend on screen had something to do with it.

“Tyson, do you happen to know anything about this?” She said, grabbing the scissors to open the package. Her phone was propped up so Tyson could see her opening it.

“No, not a thing. Let’s see what’s inside though. I gotta find out who’s dropping off secret gifts to my girl.” He replied.

She giggled, “Yeah, because I’m the one in this relationship who’s got secret admirers.”

As she opened the package, she let out a gasp. The first thing she laid eyes upon was a letter, and a bag that was an oh-so-familiar shade of blue.

“Tyson….” She let out, her heart suddenly bursting with more love than usual.

On the other side of the screen, Tyson felt his cheeks grow hot as a goofy smile drew across his face. “Surprise?” He said letting out a chuckle. “Go one lovebug. Read it.”

Opening the letter, (Y/N) recognized the chicken scratch as her boyfriends, and she smiled as she began to read.

My dearest, (Y/N):

When I leave for road trips, there’s nothing I miss more than you. I know it must suck to not have me there, because without you beside me I am lonely, and each time I leave I look forward only to returning to you. (Ok, and maybe our little pudgeball son too.) Since you’ve come into my life I’ve never known how much you can miss another human being. I appreciate everything you do to work your life into my lifestyle and everything you’ve had to sacrifice to do so. I promise that the rest of our lives will be worth it. Since I am gone for a while, I figured I’d leave you something to keep you company until I return, for this and every road trip ahead. I love you so much my lovebug.

Yours forever,

Tyson

Tears filled her eyes now, and she choked on a sob while letting out a laugh.

“Josty, you sap. I love you so much. Fuck, I miss you.” She said, looking at him through the screen.

“I love you too and I miss you so fucking much. Go on, keep looking.”

Setting down the letter, (Y/N) grabbed the blue bag, and pulled out another blue box and a notecard.

“Tiffany, Tyson seriously? This is too much.” (Y/N) said.

“Nothing is ever too much baby, stop it.”

Opening the note, it read a single sentence: “Call It What You Want. T Swift. 2:09.”

She was confused for a second, but then she realized. That song was on their playlist, and she immediately knew what lyric he was referring to.

I want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck. Not because he owns me, but because he really knows me.

She pulled the whte ribbon off the box, the pulled the pouch out of the box. Tyson’s breach hitched as she began to take the necklace out. A Tiffany heart pendant hung from a silver chain, with a second pendant behind it, engraved with what (Y/N) read to be “TJ” and on the other side “17”.

“Tyson…”

“Do you like it?” He said, softer than he intended.

“I love it so much. It’s beautiful.” She replied.

“Put it on, let’s see.” He told her. As she put the pendant around her neck, he admired just how beautiful she was. Bare faced, in her pj’s, in their shared kitchen, sporting a necklace with his initials. He was sure that not even the gates of heaven could compare to that sight. Until he could put a diamond on her finger, the necklace would do.

“It’s so pretty baby, thank you.” (Y/N) said.

“I knew you’d love it. I know how much you love that song too. That’s not it, keep looking in the box.” He said eagerly.

“Ok pretty boy, if you say so.”

Removing a layer of tissue paper, she was met with the cutest thing, and so unexpected. A brown build a bear sat smiling up at her, sporting a grey Colorado Avalanche hoodie.

“Oh my God, Tyson, he's so cute!” She exclaimed, taking the bear out of the box and squeezing it close to her.

“I knew you’d love him. Go on and squeeze his paw, eh?” Tyson said.

“Oh, ok!” (Y/N) said, and her jaw dropped once she did it. The sweet sounds of her boyfriends voice filled her ears, and it wasn’t coming from her phone.

“I love you! See you soon lovebug. I miss you.” said the bear. In that moment, (Y/N) could have died. Nothing could’ve ever prepared her for that. There was also no person on earth who’d ever done something for her like this other than Tyson. Looking up from the bear, she was met with Tyson's smiling face.

“Do you like it? I figured you could use something to cuddle when I’m not there. And I know how much you miss my voice when I’m not there. You told me when you were drunk.”

(Y/N) threw her head back laughing. “I love it so much. Thank you, Tyson, seriously. You have no idea how much this means to me.” She said, now holding the phone closer to her face, the bear still in her arms.

“You’re welcome lovebug. I hope this helps you get through the roadie a little better now.” he said sweetly.

“It will for sure. I love you.”

“Love you too bug. ‘M glad I got to see you open it. Gotta go now thought before Nate knocks the door down, he’s been looking for me. I love you and I’ll talk to you later ok?” He said, standing up to find a change of clothes.

“I’m glad I called. Have a great day and tell the boys I say hey, ok? Love you mister. Be safe babe.” (Y/N) said, having moved to sit at her desk in the corner of the kitchen, bear still in tow.

“I will. Kisses.” Tyson said, blowing her a kiss.

“Kisses,” (Y/N) returned one back, “Bye my love.”

“Bye pretty girl.” He said before hanging up.

(Y/N) sighed, grabbing the pendant and swinging it on the chain a bit and smiled. She really wondered how she got so lucky. She made a mental note to send Susanna flowers or something. Glancing down at Pickles in his bed, she said: “Your dad’s a good guy, P. We’re lucky.” Obviously, Pickles didn’t respond but it’s the thought that counts.

As she started her days work, she did so with a love drunk attitude.

Tyson was built like a daydream. He knew her soul and body like no other. And as she recalled from that very first day in the cafe, he was a ray of sunshine in her usual cloudy sky.

For now, she’d count down the days until he came home to her.

(With the help of the bear of course.)

taglist: add yourself here @comphybiscuit @stars-canucks @fallinallincurls @2manytabsopen @hollyjollyjosty @tysonjost-taylorsversion @sorryjustafangirl @hotanddistraught @hockstuff

[hugheshugs]

joker street | q. hughes

prompts: #13 — "call me right fucking now." // #73 — "your hands are shaking." // #78 — "don't fucking scare me like that."

summary: you go to the scary part of town and are being followed.

pairing: overprotective!quinn x skittish!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: creepy dude, reader being followed, creepy dude approaching reader.

note: jt miller appearance !! also, i might do another fic w these prompts, i was working on one but scrapped it so idk when it'll be up but ya, incase this one flops lmao. this one was requested by boestie simmy, thank u my love !! i hope u enjoy this one <3

taglist: @heatabovejakey @boeswhore @calemakarjuice @pandas-daisy @rainysuitcaseprunegiant @1-800-iluvhockey @owennpower @drei-mrssvechii @idfan21 @thescooby-gang @owenpowersglasses @owenpowerstapejob // join my taglist here :)

to say quinn is an overprotective boyfriend would be an understatement. you have no words to describe how much he hovers over you and eyes you like a hawk but to be honest, you enjoy it. you like the feeling of having someone care so much about your safety, no matter how much it irritates you sometimes.

taking that into account, no one can blame you for not telling him about your whereabouts. obviously he didn't need to know your location 24/7 (and he doesn't care to either), but telling him about your current location probably would have helped you out a little.

you and quinn had a small argument last night about you being too careless (which you knew he was right about, you just didn't want to admit it), and now you're scared out of your mind because you refuse to call him for help. you don't know why you thought this was a good idea. there's a really good donut place on the rougher side of the city, the side your parents warned you about growing up, and you wanted to try it. so here you are, all by yourself, alone and struggling to find the place.

an eery feeling crawls up your neck as you notice the sun setting. it probably wasn't the best time to come either, because when night falls from day, the jokers come to play. it also doesn't help that you're a skittish person and are very fearful of bad people (which is basically what you're surrounded by).

"hey, pretty. nice hair."

you turn around abruptly, pulling your hair out of the mans grasp. your eyes widen as you realize how close he is to you and you stumble backwards. how had you not noticed him behind you?

"um, t-thanks."

you keep walking, faster than before but more alert as well. your gut tells you the man hasn't stopped following you and a quick glance to the side confirms your suspicions. your palms begin to sweat and tears pool at your eyes. quinns words from last night ring in your ears.

"you're too fucking careless, y/n! you're gonna do something stupid one day and i won't be there to protect you, what'll you do then?"

what will you do? you can't even think straight at the moment.

unbeknownst to you, someone else is watching you as well. that someone being the one and only, jt miller. he had come here for the same reason you did, only he was able to actually find the place. then he saw you, the girl he knows shouldn't be out here by herself, and grew concerned.

he wants to walk up to you, he really does, but he wouldn't be able to handle whatever breakdown he knows you're going to have when he confronts you. calling quinn is his best option. the phone only rings a couple times before he picks up.

"hey, quinner.. you busy right now?"

"no, why?"

"i came to joker's and saw y/n roaming around all by herself. there's someone following her, i got an eye on her though. you mind getting here quickly?"

quinns heart drops at his words. "there's someone following her?"

"yeah but he's a bit far away. i'm following them right now," jt confirms.

"i'll be there in like.. 6 minutes," quinn says hurriedly before hanging up and rushing to grab his keys.

quinn: call me right fucking now.

you see the text immediately and hesitate, knowing he'll probably be on your ass, and because you don't want the man following you to take advantage of your inattentive state. pushing those thoughts aside, you call quinn anyway.

"where the fuck are you?"

he doesn't say hi, only greets you with that angry, rough voice you've become a bit familiar with.

"i'm.. i'm, uh.." you struggle to tell him your whereabouts, heart pounding rapidly against your chest as you realize it's now dark.

"don't lie to me," he gritts through his teeth and you hear a car starting.

"i'm at joker street, but please don't be mad—"

"and why the hell didn't you tell me you were going there?"

"well, you were the one who said you don't need to know where i am all the time!"

"yeah but i'd like to know if you're paying a visit to the most dangerous part of town, thank you very much. where are you? send me your location."

you do as he says and sigh shakily, looking back to notice the man is gone. okay, great, one less thing to worry about. now the only things on your mind are quinn and donuts.

wrong.

you shriek as the man from earlier stands in front of you, towering over you with a mischievous look on his face.

"hey there, pretty girl. wanna play?"

swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head rapidly, salty tears falling from your eyes. "n-no. no, i don't."

"well, that's too bad."

your heart thumps rapidly against your chest, almost painfully when he grabs your arm and you shout again, sending quinn into absolute distress on the other side of the phone. he rushes to you as quick as he can, using the location you sent him.

what quinn doesn't hear is jt practically beating up the man who touched you and you being ushered to safety. and by safety that just means back to his car.

"y/n, you okay?"

you stay quiet but nod your head, a bit overwhelmed by the enounter. it doesn't take long for quinn to park his car beside jt's and run to the passenger seat where you're sitting. he opens the door aggressively and fails to meet your eyes because you won't look at him.

"hey, baby, how are you feeling?" he murmurs softly, cupping your cheek with his hand.

"scared," your voice cracks and he pulls you out of the vehicle as gently as possible.

after thanking his friend, quinn walks you back to his car and waits until you're both settled down before driving off. he doesn't want to say anything, not wanting to make you feel worse than you do, so he doesn't. he waits until you guys get to his apartment before speaking up.

"love, you okay?"

"mhm," you lie, finally making eye contact with him.

he shakes his head. "your hands are shaking."

"i-i was just really scared," you walk towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. "you were right. i'm stupid, i did something dumb and you weren't there to help me."

quinn feels some wetness on his neck and realizes you're crying. he wraps his arms around your quivering frame, rubbing your back soothingly.

"shh, it's okay, don't cry. you're okay, you're safe. i'm right here, i'll always be here."

he continues uttering sweet nothings into your ear until you pull away, eyes puffy with a reddening nose.

"i just wanted the donuts," you tell him, voice wavering. "i didn't think that would h-happen, also i don't really think i'm the most pretty girl in the world. you know that guy, he wouldn't stop calling me pretty, i mean he only said it twice but it was still a little weird. and he even touched my hair, he was twirling it around his finger! i yanked it away from him though."

quinn feels his anger towards the unknown man dissipating but only for a moment. his lip curls upward as he notices a spark in your eye, the storytelling almost diverting your attention from the emotions you're feeling. quinn doesn't realize how much he needed to see that, to hear the change in your voice until he actually did, and he feels his heartbeat steadying.

"you are pretty. you're the most beautiful girl in the world and please don't fucking scare me like that ever again," he says sternly, pointing an accusing finger at you.

"hey," you grab the finger and rest your head on his chest once more. "technically, i was the scared one, not you."

"that's true but baby, you don't know how scared i get when you're not safe."

"well, i'm the one that's not safe so that means i'm more scared."

"okay, i'm stopping this conversation before we start arguing again," he narrows his eyes at you and nudges your nose with his, making you laugh and hug him once more.

he rests his hands on your waist before eyeing something on the table behind you. "also.."

he walks the short distance to the table and toys with a bright pink box, opening it up and peaking inside. he lets out a sound of approval and you look at him confused before rushing over.

your eyes widen at the sight. "oh my goodness! quinn, where did you get these?"

the donuts. you see a dozen donuts, the ones you wanted to buy but failed to. they're colourful, beautiful, everything you hoped they would be.

"jt gave them to me before we left. you weren't even looking at me so you didn't notice that i had them and brought 'em in," he chuckles at your expression.

"i have to thank him.." you bite your lip in thought. quinn doesn't let your mind wander, grabbing a donut and shoving it in his face to grab your attention.

"hey! you were supposed to wait for me," you pout.

he brings it to your lips and you open your mouth, biting into the fluffy dough. you let out a satisfied hum as you chew and smile at quinns sprinkle covered lips.

"do my lips have sprinkles too?" you ask, not wanting to wipe them away. he nods and you look at him playfully.

he sees the gears turning in your head but they're too fast for him to catch on. before he knows it, your sprinkley lips are on his, the warmth melting the sugar into your mouths.

"you taste good."

"you taste better."