#Captain Hook sick

[knoepfl]

The Captain’s Heart

Characters:

Captain Hook (Disney Version)

Female Pirate (Reader)

Smee (Mentioned)

Trigger Warnings:

Illness (fever, coughing, physical weakness)

Brief mentions of pain and discomfort

Masterlist

Words: 900

---

The crew of the Jolly Roger knew their captain as a man of grandeur and ruthless ambition. They feared him, respected him, but they never truly knew him. Not like she did.

She was the only female pirate on board, an anomaly in the world of seafaring men, and a mystery to all but one. Captain Hook, with his sweeping red coat, sharp hook, and dramatic flair, was every bit the fearsome leader they thought him to be. Yet, when night fell and the crew was asleep, he was hers—and hers alone.

Tonight, the ship was quieter than usual, save for the occasional snore from Smee and the others who shared the lower cabins. But up in Hook’s grand cabin, things were different. The Captain was ill, and no amount of his usual grand gestures could hide the fact that he was suffering.

Hook lay in bed, pale, his once-crisp red coat discarded, and his skin damp with sweat. His breathing was labored, each exhale rough and rattling. He wiped his brow with a trembling hand, then quickly stifled a cough that tore at his throat. He hated to admit weakness, but the fever had him firmly in its grasp.

The door creaked open, and his tired eyes, bloodshot and heavy-lidded, snapped to the entrance. He half-expected Smee to come bumbling in again, bringing more useless tonics that only made Hook feel worse. But instead, it was her—the one person who truly soothed his restless mind.

“Still playing the brave captain?” she whispered, her lips curving in a soft smile as she stepped inside, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the crew was none the wiser.

Hook attempted to sit up, but the motion sent a dizzying wave through him, making his vision blur. “Ah, my dear… I… I am perfectly—” A coughing fit cut him off mid-sentence, and he clutched his chest as the sharp pain wracked his body. His face flushed, embarrassed at his own weakness. “Blasted cough… Smee! That bumbling fool nearly drowned me in tea, yet the fever rages on!”

She crossed the room swiftly, her heart aching at the sight of him, usually so grand and composed, now reduced to a pale, sweaty mess. “You’re overworking yourself,” she chided gently, easing him back down onto the bed. “Let me help.”

Hook tried to muster a look of defiance, but he was too weak to protest. “I—cannot… allow you to see me like this,” he muttered between ragged breaths, his voice scratchy from coughing. “If the crew ever—ah!” His hand flew to his chest as another sharp pain struck, and he winced.

“Shh,” she whispered soothingly, grabbing a cloth from a basin of water she had brought with her. The cool cloth was pressed to his fevered forehead, and he groaned, his muscles finally relaxing. “You’re not as invincible as you like to think. Now, rest.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the cool cloth offering some relief, but the fever still burned hot beneath his skin. His face was flushed, and sweat dripped down his neck, dampening his hair. Every time he moved, a painful ache shot through his bones, and his head throbbed with a relentless headache. His voice, usually so commanding, had turned into a hoarse rasp.

“The blasted fever…” he muttered. “I feel as though I’m being boiled alive, yet I shiver as if the depths of winter have fallen upon me.”

She ran her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, smiling softly at his dramatic way of describing the simplest symptoms. “You’ll feel better soon, once you rest.”

“I cannot rest with Smee fussing over me like a nanny!” Hook flung his hand out, a small, exaggerated gesture despite his fatigue. “He’s more of a hindrance than the fever itself!”

She chuckled softly, wiping his brow again, her touch gentle and calming. “Which is why I’m here,” she whispered, her voice soothing him more than the cloth could. “You’ll get no rest with Smee pestering you.”

Hook gave a deep, rattling sigh, his dramatic mask slipping away as his fever-worn body could no longer maintain the pretense of strength. His eyes softened as he gazed at her. “I must appear… pathetic,” he murmured, his breathing shallow. “But I feel—better…when you’re here.”

She smiled, leaning closer, her fingers tracing his jawline tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend with me. You know that.”

He shifted slightly, his movements slow and stiff as if every joint ached. “The crew… they cannot know. They mustn’t see… the great Captain Hook brought low by a mere cold…” He let out another weak cough, covering his mouth with his hand as his body shuddered with the effort.

“No one will know,” she whispered, climbing onto the bed beside him. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. He melted into her embrace, his head resting against her chest, a sigh escaping his lips as he finally allowed himself to relax.

“You’re the only one I trust,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “My strength… and my weakness…”

She pressed a kiss to his temple, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “And I’ll always take care of you, Captain.”

Hook gave one last sigh, his feverish body finally succumbing to sleep, his breathing slowing as he settled into her arms. For now, Captain Hook, terror of the seas, was just a man who needed her.

---

Author’s Note: I wanted to bring out the softer side of Captain Hook that only his secret lover knows, while staying true to his dramatic, over-the-top personality from the Disney films. The fever gives him a rare vulnerability, but even in his weakest moments, he maintains that flair we know and love! Hope you enjoyed this, and feel free to share any thoughts or ideas for more!

[t-the-ring-master]

Me: *Likes @the-lavender-clown post*

Lav: *Texts me* Go to bed!

Me: *Explains I’m sick and have had insomnia and just wanna read Captain Hook fanfic.*

Lav: fine but you’re in thin ice!

Me:

Man wish I knew how to edit to make it have a top hat but I ain’t that talented plus it 3:15 AM- anyways yeah, pretty sure me, C and my mom got Covid-

Send help my throat hurts-

Wait a dang minute… WHY ARE YOU AWAKE-

[str8up-vanilla]

(during the missing year)

Smee *knocking on the Captain's door*: Umm sir the crew were wondering if we'd be doing any pillaging today? You've been busy the past week and we're just concerned that-

Killian: If you knock once more to ask me anything you and anyone who questions me will be walking The Jolly's lovely plank!

Smee: R-right of course captain I'll go inform the crew.

*leaves*

Killian *holding a flower*: Right, now where was I...ah, *plucks petal* she loves me *plucks petal* she loves me not

[ayyyyysexual]

Tumblr on the Seven Seas

🏴‍☠️ white-beard Follow

Can we stop all normalising the use of "sc*rvy" as a fun little thing to call people?? I literally had sc*rvy last year and it was even worse than when I got my hand cut off. Fuck anyone who uses the S word without even considering how triggering it can be to those of us who have ACTUALLY suffered though it

🌅 castedaway Follow

No wenches?

🏴‍☠️ white-beard Follow

Honestly you people are so insufferable I genuinely hope you walk the plank

🌅 castedaway Follow

AHOY???

🍑 plundermebooty Follow

Okay but OP is literally a landlubber, mateys

🌴 pegmeg

nahhh why is it literally always landlubbers faking scurvy and sending plank threats ☠☠

768 notes

🗡wagscallion Follow

everyone says "land ho!" but never "land ma'am"

💨 matelotsaboteur

Really makes you think

2,041 notes

💃 crossdressing101 Follow

this whole crew was so gullible ngl, i just cut my hair and dressed in my fathers clothes and they all fell for it, hook line and sinker??

💃 crossdressing101 Follow

honestly im surprised no one has found me out yet. surely i dont seem that much like a man? i mean it makes this way easier but like. im still a woman. obviously

🕺 crossdressing101 Follow

mateys i have come to a shocking realisation,

34 notes

⛵ privatesteer Follow

wildest argument for piracy i've ever heard was that the gold stored on government ships is dangerous cause it weighs them down, so they're just 'lightening the load'

🧜‍♀️ kiss-pretty-ocean324 Follow

աaռռa ʟɨֆȶɛռ ȶօ ֆɨʀɛռ ֆօռɢ?

⛵ privatesteer Follow

no thanks

��� monstermaterdeactivated16520210

outta my way gayboy im boutta get it

🕶 monstermaterdeactivated16520210

i have drowned at sea

36,251 notes

⚓ shiveringtimbers Follow

14,811 notes

🌏 boat-enthusiast Follow

i am SO sick of the term "ship-shape" like, matey, which shape?? Ships come in so many fucking shapes like have non of you ever boarded more than one vessel in your career???? Anyway fake ship fans DNI with this post i can NOT be bothered with your tomfuckery today

💦 longjohngolder Follow

girl its not that deep ☠

🌏 boat-enthusiast Follow

to YOU. i just get it

1,147 notes

🙍‍♂️ dudeindistress Follow

honestly being held for ransom isnt that bad. kinda nice to be held

4,733 notes

🦜 pollypockets Follow

SQUAWK

🐦 aviated Follow

CAW SQUAWK SQUAWK

🦜 pollypockets Follow

CA-CAW

790 notes

🍑 plundermebooty Follow

the cabin boy just winked at me?? after offering to help clean my gun? privately. in my quarters. tonight.

🍑 plundermebooty Follow

i think i hauve scurvy

142 notes

🌊 swabmydick Follow

mateys I SWEARR my captain and his first mate are gonna kiss before our next voyage. they literally have so much romantic tension every time i see them its nauseating

🕶 longjohngolderdeactivated16511205

wtf its so problematic and harmful to ship real people?? unfollowing rn i thought you were better than this

🌊 swabmydick Follow

i literally rob and kill people for a living?????? that's where you draw the line???

🌴 pegmeg

op killed them

🌊 swabmydick Follow

even better news mateys, they kissed ☠☠☠

96,538 notes

[muzansfangs]

i’m such a slut for ukitake and age gaps 😩

imagine him lusting after the reader, who is centuries younger than him. he’s technically old enough to be her father. he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her but he simply can’t help it. especially not after finding out she secretly has a thing for older men 😏😏

(bonus points if reader is his vice captain)

The Captain’s guilt.

Starring: Jushiro Ukitake x f!reader; mention to Isane, Rangiku, Shunsui and Yamamoto;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, language, masturbation, self-deprecating, dirty fantasy, age gaps but the reader is 21+, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, shy!jushiro, struggling with feelings, unprotected sex, pussy drunk Jushiro, praise kink, dom!jushiro, sub!reader, use of alcohol, nipple play;

Plot: Your Captain is falling for you. Jushiro Ukitake, a noble shinigami, finds himself lusting after his young Lieutenant. Hiding his feelings and the effect you have on him is getting harder day by day. Your presence is intoxicating, but he tries his best not to ruin your relationship. When you end up confessing not only you are into older men, but you also have a crush on him, things take a turn. Nor you, neither him are surprised you ended up screaming his name in the middle of the night, after you offered to help him with work.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Good morning, Captain”.

Another day, another smile of yours, another boner he had to camouflage in his baggy robes, as you cluelessly waltzed into his bedroom with a silver tray in your hands to serve him breakfast. Stunning and loving, his Lieutenant, his downfall from the moral principles he had always slavishly followed. He could not control himself around you.

Whilst you knelt next to his futon, you poured some tea in a cup and blew on it to cool it down. When your eyes fluttered closed, Jushiro clenched the sheets in his hands, knuckles whitening for the firm grip as he cursed himself for wanting you. You looked like an angel, taking care of him motherly, as if you genuinely cared for him. Actually, you did, and he was aware of that. He could see it in the way you risked your life on the battlefield to watch his back, when he needed some time to rest, or in the way you looked for the best doctors in the Seireitei to get some medications for him.

If only you were older, or he was a tad younger. Souls aged slowly and, even though you were four hundred-years-old, you still looked like a young woman in her early twenties. He was much older than you. Jushiro was around, when Captain Yamamoto was a black-haired man who had recently fought back the Quincy King. He was still a kid, back then, but he was there.

He could be your father, but the flesh is weak. Or this is what Shunsui had always told him.

He was not the type to hook-up with women periodically like his best friend did. Right now, however, he really wished he had half of the guts and self-confidence the Captain of the Eighth Division had. Why? Just to have you in his arms, even briefly, a fleeting moment of bliss to let you know how ardently he desired you. Jushiro wondered if you knew he cared for you more than a Captain is supposed to for his underlings. What if you knew? What if your heart throbbed in your chest upon seeing him just like his did, when you entered his quarters?

Illusions. He was so delusional. You drove him insane. A medicine to cure his sickness, but a deadly poison to his heart. Life was not treating him kind.

“Captain?” you hesitantly said then, head tilted to the side, a knot forming between your eyebrows.

He had zoned out once again, apparently. Awesome, making a fool of himself in front of you had become his speciality. Jushiro cleared his throat, cheeks flushing as he realized you were holding the cup of tea out for him to grasp. His fingers brushed against yours, a nervous smile curving his lips upwards.

“Oh, thank you! — the white-haired man blurted out, hands wrapping around the warm cup as he shot you a grateful glance — It looks like I’m getting deaf too. It must he a pain dealing with this old man” he jested, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a small sip of it.

You chuckled, shifting onto your seat to push the tray aside “Old man? I’m sorry to contradict you, Captain, but you’re not old at all. Or, at least, you don’t look old” you said casually, watching the way the rational and placid man at your left lowered his cup from his mouth slowly, interested in your observation.

“Care to elaborate?” he asked you softly, admiring the way some rays of the sun set off the color of your hair, the features of your face, causing a warm feeling to engulf his lower abdomen. This was not good. You were there, merely complimenting him, reassuring him, and he was thinking about folding you in half underneath him like some damn Neanderthal.

A grin spread on your face, eyes straying away from his “Well, you might be older than most of the Captains and Lieutenants around, but you are a fairly handsome man. — you said, cheeks warming up as you tried to be discreet about the topic — I heard a lot of women praising your appearence, not just your charisma”.

The world seemed to stop revolving for a few seconds, but when you decided to add some other words to your already fluttering note, Jushiro wished the blanket was tick enough to conceal his pulsing cock from your attentive gaze.

“And I agree with them”.

You agreed. You thought he was handsome! You, the pretty girl he loved, the girl who was making him question his morals, the sweet girl he wanted to spend every night with really thought he was handsome. He felt lucky. His pale complexion left space to pinkish hues on his cheeks, his hand trembling as he settled his cup down not to spill the tea on the bed.

Jushiro leaned slightly forward, hands clumsily covering the small tent visible through the layers “R-Really? I don’t know what to say, but … Thanks, I guess. A boost of confidence every now and then is greatly appreciated” he stammered, but your eyes had been faster than his hands, your lips parting as you watched your Captain attempting to hide away his need from you.

How sweet of him. Ukitake Jushiro, your Captain, a man you admired, who had kind of watched you grow and who had trained you for years, was currently hot and bothered because of a couple of compliments. Your heart melted, a soft smile on your lips as you decided to leave some privacy to him. After all, he still had to finish his breakfast and the poor man was surely dealing with a rather uncomfortable problem right now.

You stood up, bowing your head reverentially “I have to attend the weekly Lieutenants meeting, Captain. See you later” you said, sparing him a last glance before leaving his room as normally as you possibly could.

If only you knew how reddish the tip of your Captain’s cock was, how terribly sorry he felt for feeling that way about you, how much he wished the thick white ropes of cum erupting from his member, as he jerked off were painting your tongue, instead of a tissue. He was obviously not better than Kyoraku and he was terrified at the mere thought of his cheeky friend realizing he was practically dying to be squashed by your thighs.

Spring days in the Seireitei meant peaceful nightly strolls for your Captain, but also a chance for you to catch up with your friends during your days off. What a coincidence you were sharing a few drinks with Rangiku and Isane in a pub not too distant from the park your Captain chose to spend his free time at. When Jushiro caught a glimpse of you, chattering with your fellow Lieutenants, drink in hand and exceptionally beautiful, he froze solid and decided it was better to change his path suppress his reiatsu not to draw your attention.

Two weeks had passed since the breakfast incident and he had tried his best not to create embarrassing situations in which you had to be stuck in a room with him alone. You had noticed he had been acting strangely, as of late, but confronting him about it was not a wise move. Who were you to make your Captain, a man you were devoted to, a man who carried himself with dignity, uncomfortable? Time would have fixed the situation, or you were confident things would have worked out just fine from now on.

Jushiro was about to turn his back and leave, when he heard the noisy Lieutenant of the Tenth Division ask you a spicy question “Kyoraku Shunsui. Smash, or pass?”.

He had no idea why he stood there in the shadows, feeling like a creep, as he awaited in trepidation for you to answer that stupid question. For some reason, though, it was important for him. He expected you to blend in with mass of girls swooning at Shunsui’s door and say you would have gladly shared your bed with him. He would have not blamed you for that. Every woman he knew had a thing for his best friend.

Still, you were his jewel. He did not want you to crave Shunsui. He wanted you to choose him. He was selfish, he knew his thoughts were impure and not appropriate. He was in no position to argue with you about the men you fancied.

“Pass” you curtly said, causing Rangiku and Isane to gasp and for Jushiro’s mood to brighten up again. He leaned his back against the wall, staring blankly at the Moon above him, electrified to hear you were not one of the numerous fangirls ready to kill to be Shunsui’s partner for the night.

Rangiku slammed her glass down onto the small table “Pass? Girl, you are the Dilfs’ fucker here! I expected you to throw your panties at him! What’s wrong now?” she piped out, voice too loud for your likings as you covered your face with your hands.

People were watching, obviously, snickering and shooting leering glances at your direction. Isane blushed, shaking her head as she snapped her fingers in front of Rangiku’s face to make her get a grip of herself.

“You drank too much! Lower your voice, people talk a lot!” Isane chided her, only for you to nod your head in agreement.

“I am not into Captain Shunsui, alright? Yeah, he is handsome and hilarious, but not my type” you clarified, folding your arms across your chest, causing the red-haired woman sitting across from you to squint her pale blue eyes suspiciously. She was not going to let this go easily. You were toasted.

She smirked “Oh, that’s interesting now… — she said, leaning towards you with an inquisitive gleam in her eyes — Who is your type then? Someone older than you for sure, but let’s see. Old man Yamamoto is decidely not on the list. May it be his Lieutenant, though?”.

Isane choked on her saké, coughing a few times in shock, while you kept an intense eye-contact with Rangiku “You are going to get us kicked out of this pub. Lower your damn voice” you warned her, as the waiter passing by your table gestured for you to restrain yourselves.

“Then speak up, girl. I have all night long and tons of important men to mention publicly. — she retorted, determined to make you confess who exactly was your crush — Say it, come on”.

“My Captain”.

You had not even realized you had blurted out that answer, until you saw your friends gape at you in genuine incredulity. It was not like they had not expected you to possibly fall for your charming Captain, but you had not been that reluctant to admit you had feelings for your superior. You did not imagine yourself having that conversation either, the urge to disappear into a black hole gnawing at your liver now. You took a swig of your drink, the burning sensation down your throat helping you to cope with your audacious confession.

“Have you two fucked?!” Rangiku inquired, only for the waiter to finally lose his temper and come at your table with a livid expression plastered over his face.

“You three! That’s enough, get out of here!”.

Giggling on your way out of the pub, you took the road opposite to the one where your Captain was finding shelter. Emerging from the darkness, he palmed his forehead, your words still ringing in his head like a pleasant song he could not stop thinking about. You liked him, you reciprocated his feelings. This did not make him less guilty for lusting after you, but it gave him the chance to act more confidently around you.

Enjoying the gentle breeze blowing through his long, white locks, Jushiro resumed his walk, head light as a feather, while relishing the thought of you in his embrace. For the night, he could forgive himself.

The next day came and with it some errands to run around the Soul Society. After being summoned by Captain Unohana, you were now entering your Captain’s quarters with a pile of documents to sign tightly pressed to your chest. Sighing, you were glad to find the door open. The fresh evening air provided a cool environment for Jushiro to work. It was not unusual for him to ask you to open the windows and leave the doors open on your way out.

Sitting at his desk, his haori draped over his broad shoulders, Jushiro was reading some reports about some Hollows causing troubles in the Rukongai. He would have not even acknowledged your presence, if you had not announced your arrival.

“Good evening, Captain! I’m coming in” you chimed, crossing the threshold with a small smile on your lips.

Jushiro flicked his eyes up from the papers, his lips mirroring yours in a soft smile that dropped at the sight of another stock of documents he was expected to check. Duties before anything, right?

“Ah, I see. It’s going to be a long night, I guess” he sadly realized, as you knelt down next to him and settled the files onto the desk.

“These are from the Fourth Division. — you explained, hands flatly splayed over the smooth wooden surface — You can’t stay up all night, Captain. You need to rest, or it might be detrimental for your health. With your permission, I would like to stay for the night and help you out”.

You were too sweet for him. He should have sent you away, denied your request, no matter how much he wanted to spend more time with you. He yearned for your company like a starving bear tasting honey and begging for more, striving to get to the top of the tree to reach the beehive and enjoy the nectar. However, it was night. Was he really ready to offer you a bed to sleep next to his one, once your eyelids were going to get heavy after tiring hours of work? He was going to die a painful death, admiring you and restraining himself from kissing every inch of your skin.

He had to refuse, but he knew you would protested. Therefore, he went to the extent to propose you a good compromise.

“I won’t let you work yourself to exhaustion. I will gladly accept your help for a few hours but, when it starts getting dark, you go back to your dorm” he suggested, tone placid but firm.

You shook your head, though, hand reaching for a brush and dipping it into the dark ink pot “I’m sorry, Captain Ukitake, but I will have to disobey your order and refuse your offer. — you calmly replied, signing the first document swiftly with your Captain sighing in defeat in the background — Now, let’s get this over with” you added, encouraging him by splitting the pile in halves and handing him one of them.

“You are way too lenient with me” Jushiro stated, before resuming his reading again.

And hours passed by. You chattered with your Captain, the pile of documents decreasing slowly but surely but you were not even close to be done yet. When dinner time came, you had a quick snack and persuaded your Captain to rest a little more than you did. Naturally, he promptly protested, but you ended up convincing him he would have been more proficient with some hours of sleep over his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he agreed and sleep found him easily.

While you worked, you lost the track of time. You forgot to wake him up as you had promised and you just kept on working until your back hurt. Glancing outside the window, the Moon greeted you and the clock indicated it was midnight. You were ready to grit your teeth and keep on pushing yourself to the limit, when you suddenly felt the familiar reiatsu of your Captain embrace you from behind. You straightened your back, eyes widening even so slightly, as his hands rested comfortably over the top of your shoudlers.

“I overslept. You should have called me” he pointed out lowly, gently, as you apologetically nodded your head and discarded the brush over the desk.

“I should have, but your health is more important than work to me” you objected, turning your head slightly to the side to meet his kind chestnut eyes. Jushiro was sitting right behind you, his large frame almost draped over your back like a blanket, as he grasped your wrist delicately and shook his head.

Goosebumps raised on the back of your neck, his chin grazing over the top of your head “It’s your turn to rest. Lean on me” he offered, causing your lower lip to quiver for the habit of opposing yourself to his kind offer.

But you were too tired to be helpful right now and you knew he was not going to let you continue for any longer.

“Ten minutes will be enough” you said, accomodating yourself, as he helped you lean your back against his chest, the sound of the fabric of your uniforms rustling in the friction was endearingly soothing. Just like his arms subtly snaking around your waist and your hands slithering over his bony ones, making your cheeks heat up exponentially.

You had never touched your Captain like that, albeit you wanted him to. You had played scenes like this one many times in your head, hoping he was going to do much more than simply hugging you. You needed more, you needed him. You wanted Jushiro with ever molecule of your body and, God, he desired you too. Your eyes fluttered close, his warm breath tickling your jawline, as his fingertips began to draw lazy patterns over your abdomen, trailing up towards your ribs and then stopping.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked you, his heartrate increasing notably. His hands itched to cup your breasts, to roll your hardening nipples between the pads of his fingers, to swallow your moans with his mouth. But without your consent, Jushiro was not going to go any further.

You arched your back, eyes opening again to peer up at him adoringly “Comfortable, you say? I’d dare to say I’m in Paradise” you whispered, smiling faintly, before your hands reached up to undo your shihakushō. Bold, you were pretty bold right now, under the gleaming eyes of your Captain.

You heard his breath hitch, his hands trembling when you grasped them to lead them to your breasts where he wanted to settle them “Don’t say a word. They’re needless. I want it, Captain. I’m tired to pretend” you murmured, head lolling back onto his shoulder as his large hands finally latched onto your mounds, gently squeezing them.

Your skin was like velvet at the touch, his own arousal causing him to buckle his hips up against your lower back. How shameful, how stupid of him to do such things to you, but you wanted it. His Lieutenant was begging him to go ahead and that night the kind and rational Captain Jushiro Ukitake lost his mind.

He gripped your hips firmly, forcing you to straddle his lap, his legs spreading yours wide, as he kept your back glued to his front. His fingers scambled to get rid of his own clothes, while you spared time by disrobing yourself too. Skin to skin, you were able to feel his hard rock abs graze your spine as he latched his lips over the crook of your neck.

You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut, while his hands went back to cup your breasts, stroking the hardening buds to elicit more whimpers from you. Your breath was uneven at this point, your mouth searching for his as you turned around and tugged down your pants, tired of waiting any longer.

Jushiro was awestruck, thumbs tracing your hipbones, as you rotated your hips over his “Kiss me, please” you whispered, your lips hovering over his, tempting the poor Captain to give you what you wanted. It was not too late to stop, he kept on repeating himself that, but he did not want to let you unsatisfied and the fire in his loins was consuming him too much to neglect his own need.

“Kissing you? I will do more than that” he whispered, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. His arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to him, were a cage you did not want to be set free from. Jushiro was gentle, handling you with a care no man had ever showed you, even when his tongue delved into your mouth and his fingers slipped underneath the waistband of your underwear, eagerly searching for your engorging pearl.

Shockwaves of pleasure made your skin sizzle, your hands cupped his smooth cheeks, as you moaned softly. Jushiro kissed your forehead, his cock twitching in his pants, when your wetness met his fingers. All of this was for him, your heat was dripping because you craved him! He was lucky, oh he was such a lucky man.

“You are … That’s for me, right? You are so good, Y/N-san, you are doing amazing for me. I will repay you for that, my sweet girl. I promise” he whispered, his hair sticking to his forehead as his fingers finally slipped into your core.

You could not talk much, babbling small words out was all you did, your lips leaving wet kisses over his neck and collarbone to show him your gratitude and love for him. Your orgasm hit you in waves, your inner muscles spasming around his slender digits as he watched your labia smeared with your arousal as you reached your climax. You were stunning, his hand glistened in your orgasm, as he quickly yanked his pants down and you crawled towards his unmade bed, panting, awaiting for him to join you.

When his member, ramrod, pulsing, slapped against his navel, you gulped down at the impressive size hungrily pointing at you. If only people knew about this side of him, they would die at his feet. Ukitake Jushiro lacked nothing that Kyoraku Shunsui had. He was just a victim of fate. If it was not for his sickness, he would have been unstoppable. Pumping his shaft a few times in front of you, Jushiro groaned softly, hooded eyes searching yours.

“Would you look at me the same way, if you knew what I did in the privacy of my bedroom when you left that morning?” he asked you, only for you to shake your head and hoist your legs around his hips.

“Nothing would ever change my opinion of you. — you replied, the tip of his cock probing at your entrance — I love you, Jushiro” you whispered, nosing his cheek when he caged you to the bed with his strong arms.

“I wish I could tell you not to love me, but I am twice as guilty. Forgive me, if you can. I love you, I have loved you for too long to keep it to myself” he said, before entering you with a smooth thrust of his hips.

You let out a strained moan, your tight walls causing Jushiro to grunt in bliss, his brows furrowed as he pressed his forehead against yours. Bottoming out took him a few seconds. Making his way inside of you, he had the care to gradually conquer inches without bruising you in the process. Tenderly, he looked at your face, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he found none, he pulled back enough to let his tip buried into your heat and slammed back into you a little more vigorously.

Melodic moans left your mouth, neck strained back, when he set out a slow and firm pace to hit the spot that made you wrap your legs tighter around him. His white hair seemed the beautiful and cold stalactites hanging from the roof of your barracks, when it snowed. Handsome and yours, Jushiro kissed the valley between your breasts, praises to your beauty and dedication rolling out of his tongue every now and then.

“Beautiful, you should have posed for a painter in the World of the Livings. — he stated, voice muffled by your skin, when he sucked onto your nipple — A pre-raphaelite, those colors would have suited you” he murmured, tongue tracing the bud as his hips snapped towards yours more urgently now.

Your moans had grown louder, sweaty skin smacking together creating a repetitive sound any passer-by would have recognized. But you were too lost into his eyes, in the way the Moon seemed to make his hair glow like an halo around his head, on the way his muscular body would have crashed yours, if he was not attentive.

“Jushiro, please, don’t stop! — you breathed out, a throaty moan leaving your lips, when he grabbed your ankles and set them on the top of his shoulders — I am about to come” you warned him, watching the man above you speed up his movements.

He should have been careful not to overdo himself, but how could he when he was literally drunk on you? Ah your words, oh God, they were driving him insane.

“Come for me, darling. Make me happy, come for me” he incited you, grasping your hands and pinning them to the sides of your head with his ones. Fingers locked together, Jushiro thrusted into you faster, hitting your sweet spot with a perfect aim. Impeccable, sinfully celestial, you reached your climax around him with a powerful orgasm.

As you twitched and tightened around him, Jushiro’s mind went blank. He was not going to be just your Captain, not anymore. His, you were going to be his, as he was going to be yours. Just Jushiro Ukitake, a man in love, not a member of the Gotei 13.

Lolling his head back, he spurted his seed into you, guttural groans erupting from his throat as he filled you. Even though he had always followed the moral codes of a noble warrior, Jushiro Ukitake knew he had to sin that night. He could not let you slip from his fingers.

Someone had told him he would have fallen for a woman, sooner of later.

Therefore, sitting on a windy hill next to his best friend Shunsui, a couple of days later, he said “I plead guilty, your honor”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Thanks to the anon who dropped this into my inbox. I did not realize how much I yearned to write for this man until I found myself writing this piece! Thanks! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are welcomed!

Until then,

x o x o

TAGS: @dehemetera @han11dh @bakugosgirl01 @silent-spirits @coowayeoo

[fandom-random-help]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Military!Reader

Let's be real, Simon didn't know you were in the military. You two met at a pub and hit it off pretty well. Granted, you were sick of him staring at you and decided to strike up a conversation. From there, it went well. He took you home after closing time and you offered to let him stay the night. He did, but you two didn't hook up. Instead, you two cuddled in the dark and told each other about yourselves. Job occupation never came up so you kept it at that. You were actually worried to tell Simon what you did for a living. You were afraid he would see your job as an excuse to ignore and cheat on him due to past experiences with other guys who were way too unstable and insecure.

Cut to seven months later, you're on base when you get called to your Captain's office. Your heart dropped because you didn't do anything to be called into his office until he slid you a manilla folder and announced you were being transferred to a different task force. You were shocked, but accepted the transfer. You were excited to go home to your boyfriend and tell him about your day. You still never told Simon you were in the military, let alone a Sergeant. You lied and told him you had an office job that requires a lot of business trips. Simon didn't care as he told you he had to leave home for long periods of time too.

It was on your two month anniversary that he confessed he was a part of the military. You were fine with that and you had a suspicion due to all the scars you've seen. Over the course of the next few months you two made it work. Sometimes your deployments lined up to where you two would both be gone at around the same time so you weren't stuck at home missing your boyfriend since you had work to do.

The next day you got on base you hid your face with a mask. No way did you want to run into Simon. You walked into briefing room and there stood Captain John Price. Introductions were made as you listened to your new Captain talk about everybody on the team. He told you about Gaz and his interrogation skills, Soap and how he's a wildcard of a demolitions expert, and that left Ghost. Ghost was a mystery, Price didn't say much about him other that he was quiet and expected a lot out of fresh meat on the team. That didn't bother you though, you were used to hardass soldiers always trying to make recruits break under pressure.

When the rest of the task force poured into the room, you froze. Ghost was intimidating yes, but there was an odd familiarity about him. You couldn't pinpoint what it was until he looked at you. You were so glad your mask covered half of your face as you could feel your cheeks growing warm. Those deep brown eyes...you knew of only one person who had those kind of eyes...Simon. "Didn't know we had a lady joining us Cap'n." Ghost says to Price. You've heard Simon talk before, but Ghost? Ghost sounded more rough and downright serious. Can't deny it made your blush deepen.

The briefing went on for what felt like forever until Price told everyone that they were scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. You got up and felt a hand on your shoulder. You whipped around to see Soap, his cheeky smile and all. "Say lass, what's with the mask?" He asked. That's when Gaz joined in, "Yeah, are you another Ghost we gotta deal with?" You straight up laughed so hard the guys looked concerned. "Like I'm that heartless." You reply. Both Gaz and Soap let out almost a sigh of relief and laugh with you. "Did you guys think I was going to be that cutthroat? Geez, I should've brought my good knife with me to show off." You kept talking to the two Sergeants and became instant friends. What you didn't know is that Ghost heard what you said, and he wasn't too happy about spending however long it was with you.

You all piled into the plane to fly out that morning. You called Simon before getting on the plane to tell him you were going on a "business trip". Ghost was still at his bunk when his phone rings. He picks it up and sees his pretty bird on the caller ID and answers so quick he almost hangs up.

"Hi lovie, are you okay?" He asks. You chuckle at how he was always so worried about you.

"Yes love, I'm fine. Just letting you know I'm about to board a plane. Got a meeting to attend in the states." You lie.

"Al'ight, safe travels baby. I'm gonna need all the luck I can get for this mission. New Sergeant is gonna piss me off." He explains.

But, you're the new Sergeant. How'd you piss him off?

"I'm sorry baby, what did he do? Also, 'going to'? He hasn't done anything yet has he?" You ask, curious to what he'll say.

"Not a 'he', love. It's a 'she'. She called me heartless." From there, he goes on and on about how she hides behind a mask like he does and how she already hit it off with Kyle and Johnny. You knew Simon was insecure, but that bad? This man has done lost his mind.

"I'm sorry love. I'm sure things will get better. I love you." You say.

"Love you too birdy. I'll see you in about a month." He says as you both hang up.

You walk onto the plane where the other guys are waiting, except Ghost. "Where is that fucker?" Soap groans. "I'm sure he'll be here soon." You say, sounding hopeful. Sure enough, Ghost practically runs onto the plane and finds a seat...right next to you. "Almost late LT." Gaz laughs. Price shakes his head and lets the pilot know they're ready to fly. On the plane, Ghost shuffles in his seat worse than Soap. You reach in your vest and pull out a small stress ball. "Here" is all you say as you gesture for Ghost to take it. He looks at you in confusion before taking the ball from your hand. It calms him down and he makes sure you get it back before you land.

On the ground, you guys make your way to the safe house. Once there, you all take time making sleeping arrangements. You offer to stand watch for tonight, but Ghost told you he'd do it and that you needed rest. You took it as Ghost paying you back for the stress ball so you let him win. Later that evening, Soap hit the ground running with questions for you. "What's your callsign lass? Sure you don't want us calling you 'lass' or 'lady' all month." You laughed and answered. "It's Grasshopper." Gaz looked up from cleaning his gun, intrigued. Soap was armed with more questions. Ghost stayed in the corner, observing. Price smiled a little as he smoked his cigar. "How'd you get that as your callsign?" Gaz asked. Soap looked at him and then nodded his head. "Well when I was stationed on my first op. We were running from enemy soldiers after a tripwire got, well, tripped. They didn't follow us though, they shot at us from a building. We hid in a field to avoid the gunshots. It was quiet, when all of a sudden I seen a grenade land in our area. I jumped over to it, picked it up, and threw it back towards enemy lines. It exploded as soon as it hit the ground in front of the building. Killed a few men that day." You explained. "Okay, but why Grasshopper?" Soap asked. You sighed. "Well, after I threw the grenade back. I was jumping up and down in celebration that My team and I didn't die. In a field. Where there was grass. Hence the name Grasshopper."

The guys looked at you in amazement, except Ghost because you couldn't read his expressions. "Good to know Sergeant." Says Price. "That's amazing! Definitely gotta see your throw in action, huh Grassy?" Said Soap as he elbows your arm. You actually laugh at the new take on your callsign.

Ghost sits quietly in the corner. He now had a name for the thorn in his side for next month or so. It's not that Ghost hates you because of small, petty things. No. He doesn't like the idea of catching feelings for you....again, but he doesn't know that. He missed his quiet, soft-spoken girlfriend, and you were making it difficult for him to even remember her. You were confident, loud when need be, and you stand your ground. Ghost didn't want to interact too much with you. Didn't want to feel like he was betraying his lovely bird back home just by talking to you.

Little does he know, you and his girlfriend are one in the same....and he was about to find out.

Part 2

[aleskie]

JUST DRINK THE DAMN WATER | Quinn Hughes x Reader

Summary: You've always tried to not be a nepo-partner. But when you're sick? Quinn throws all that out of the window. After all, you deserve only the best for your stay at the hospital!

Warnings: None!! Just Quinn being a lil (a lot) over protective when you get sick. Author's Note: Requested by my sweet @sweetestcaptainhughes MWAH MWAH

Oh Captain, My Captain Coming home late tonight.

Have you eaten?

Did you drink water at all today? 

Just so we're clear, Coffee is a liquid but it is NOT water. Same thing with tea. 

Also, get some rest. I know you barely slept last night trying to finish up work.

Take care of yourself.

I love you :)

Heart ♥️ I will drink water :D

And get some rest ;p

Thank you :>>

I love you too!

Let's be honest here.

You did not drink water. No rest either, too focused on finishing deadlines.

And that's how you ended up in Quinn's car enroute to the hospital.

You were pretty sure he broke every traffic rule trying to get you there, but you were too delirious to make sense of anything.

There were flashes—headlights streaking past, the sharp sound of honking, Quinn muttering curses under his breath. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly it looked like he was trying to keep the entire world from falling apart. Everything blurred together, a mess of fragmented memories you couldn’t quite piece together. Then—hospital lights, the sterile chill of the emergency room, the sharp sting of antiseptic in the air. Unfamiliar hands everywhere, pressing, prodding, asking you questions you couldn’t answer to, trying to assess you. 

But through it all, there was Quinn.

You could hear him above everyone else, snapping at nurses, demanding someone check your vitals. You see a brief scene of him hovering so close they had to physically push him back. He only relented—barely—when they hooked you up to an IV, but even then, his eyes stayed locked on the bag, on the heart rate monitor, almost as if he didn’t trust them to do their job fast enough.

You see him pacing, checking your chart, running a hand through his already messy hair before he all but rips open the curtain to leave the small station they’d set up for you in the emergency room. You hear faint voices coming from outside as he pries them for updates. You hear muffled sounds of him pulling rank when they enter the room. Leveraging whatever he could to get information out of them until someone actually listened. Until they moved quicker, until you got better faster.

“C’mon, I’ll get you guys good tickets to the next Canucks game—just get them in a room.”

“Sir, we’re doing the best we can, but the combination of dehydration and exhaustion isn’t something to overlook. Especially with a fever starting to set in.”

Quinn groaned, a sound of pure impatience. “Then at least get them out of this damn hallway. Somewhere quiet where they can actually rest.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

More muffled voices. A heated back-and-forth. You couldn’t focus on it, the exhaustion pulling you under.

The next thing you knew, you were moving. Or maybe the bed was.

Where? You didn’t know. But sleep was already dragging you down before you could figure it out.

Finally, finally, your eyes flutter open. The room is hazy, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above you, but you're awake. Awake enough to function.

“Quinny,” your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. He’s at your side instantly, like he was just waiting for a sign, any sign, that you were still with him.

His touch is gentle, the back of his hand brushing your forehead, checking for any lingering fever before his fingers find yours. He links them together like he’s afraid to let go, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Like he needs the contact to ground himself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his voice low and strained. “Don’t do that again.”

You blink up at him, still dazed, but the sheer worry in his expression makes your chest ache. His jaw is tight, shoulders tense like he’s still running on the adrenaline of getting you here. Like he hasn’t let himself breathe properly until now.

“Come here,” you murmur, barely able to lift your hand, but reaching for him anyway. “Please.”

He exhales sharply, like he wants to argue, but one look at you, and it’s over. He doesn’t hesitate, just climbs into the impossibly small hospital bed without a second thought.

It wasn’t meant for two people, but he makes it work, shifting until you’re tucked against his chest, his arms caging you in, careful of the IV in your arm. You feel the weight of his body, the warmth of him, and suddenly, everything feels a little less cold.

“They didn’t even want to give you a proper bed,” he huffs against your hair, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again. “Had to make a fucking scene.”

You smile weakly, pressing your cheek against his hoodie. “Of course you did.”

Quinn lets out a breath, finally, finally relaxing for the first time since you collapsed. His fingers trace absentminded circles on your back, soothing, grounding. “Next time, just drink the damn water,” he mutters, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice.

“And get some sleep,” he adds, softer this time, like he knows you’re already slipping under again.

You hum, your body melting into his, exhaustion pulling you under. But as long as his arms are around you, you figure you’ll be okay.

[idrkwhatthisisimsorry]

Gold Rush

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve and reader are just two idiots in love who doesn't think the other one likes them back

Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, slight angst, slight reader insecurity

Word Count: 3,406

A/N: okay so i haven’t written in a REALLY long time, but i’ve been on a steve kick lately and just wanted to write something so 😍

You were tired of it. So sick and tired of it. You’ve been alive for over two full decades and you still have never managed to have a boyfriend. Not that you were particularly desperate for one, but when everyone around you managed to have been in a relationship at one point in their life, it made you feel a little left out. It’s gotten to the point where everyone just kind of assumes you aren’t interested in a relationship, which isn’t true. You’re just bad at finding one. You’ve had small one-night things, but it seems like every time you get close to a man beyond a hook-up, you somehow manage to make the conversation utterly and completely platonic to the point where you’re just always the best friend. And this is where Steve Rogers comes in. 

You’ve known Steve for about 3 years, ever since you joined the team. Steve, to say the least, is a pretty intimidating guy when you first meet him. He’s super tall and sweet and cute, all the things you would want in a guy. But because he’s so perfect, approaching him seemed way too scary. For the first couple months of knowing him, the two of you would only exchange simple pleasantries as you crossed paths. A nod of the head, a wave, or a quick “hi” was all you were able to get out. But you wanted more than that. 

Eventually one day, you got the courage to say something to him. 

You were sitting in the kitchen, reading a book and sipping your coffee when Steve walked in. It looked like he had just gotten out of the gym, he was wearing some athletic shorts and a Dodgers tee that was entirely too small on him, but it gave you something to talk about. 

“Dodgers fan?” You asked him, hoping it would start some kind of conversation. He turned around, looking almost shocked that you said something to him that wasn’t just hi. He chuckled a bit before saying, “Yes, ma’am. I do miss them being in the city, but you’ll never catch me trading them in for the Yankees.”. He smiled at you, obviously expecting a response. You panicked. You hadn’t thought this far. He was supposed to ask you a question or something. In your idiotic panic, all you could manage to get out of your mouth was, “I’ve honestly never watched a single baseball game in my life.” Which was true, but why did you have to say that now? But apparently Steve wasn’t as offended by this as you thought he would be, and he tipped his head back and just laughed. Steve Rogers was laughing at you. With you? You had no clue. You just dropped your head into your palms, expecting him to walk out at your comment. “No offense, doll, but you don’t exactly strike me as the baseball fan type, so I’m not entirely shocked.” He said, just smiling at you. You were absolutely not going to open your mouth again, because obviously it wasn’t attached to your brain and you didn’t want to look even more idiotic in front of  literal Captain America. It got to the point where both of you were just kind of staring at each other in silence before Steve finally broke the tension. “So… reading is more of your style, then?” He said, gesturing to the book you had sitting in front of you. “Uh, yeah, pretty much. It’s like all I do in my free time.” You said, with a slight smile on your face. “I love reading, too. Kind of hard to adapt from books from 70 years ago to the books now, but I’d say it’s definitely one of my favorite pastimes. What are you reading?” You were kind of holding a conversation with Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers. Your kind of crush. You don’t know if you can even call it a crush when the longest conversation you’d even had with him was currently happening, and so far was only about 5 sentences long, but it was happening. “Oh, um, it’s called Daisy Jones and the Six. I've actually read it a few times already, but it’s my favorite so I felt like reading it again.” You said as you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Oh, I’ve actually heard of that one. Good enough for multiple re-reads, huh?” “Oh, one-hundred percent. It takes place in the seventies. Such a shame you missed out on that decade, it would’ve been interesting to see you in bell bottoms.” And there it was again, that laugh. He tipped his head back once again and just laughed. “Is that a good laugh or an ‘oh my god this girl needs to shut up laugh’” Steve stopped laughing, and looked at you confused. “No, of course not. You’re funny.” A confused smile spread across his face. “Sorry, it’s just kind of weird figuring everybody out here and making friends. You’re all way too cool for me, I feel like I’m trying to fit in with the popular kids.” You gave a shy laugh, and he returned it and then crossed the kitchen in front of you. “Well you’ve got one here. Being a tiny kid in Brooklyn, I get how weird it is to go from being on the outside, to being right here on the inside. Wanna make a deal?” He said, holding out his hand. You looked down at his outstretched hand, and then looked back up at him before asking, “What kind of deal?” He just smiled before saying, “A friendship deal. Whenever you need someone to talk to or to hang out with, or just someone to read in the same room with, you’ve got me.” You smiled even brighter and took his hand and shook it. “Done. And this deal includes you not judging my weak handshake.” He just threw his head back again and laughed. And that’s when you fell in love with Steve Rogers. 

Being in love with Steve Rogers was a problem. Being in love with Steve Rogers for three years and only being a best friend was an even bigger problem. Steve was the perfect guy, which was the issue because everyone else had the same sentiments, but you were too scared of rejection to do anything about it. You knew everybody wanted him, but last year was when it really hit you. 

As you finished getting ready, you picked up your tote bag, ready to go to your favorite bookstore. You thought it might be fun for Steve to come with, but as you headed for your door to go ask him, there was a knock. You opened your door to see Steve standing outside of it. “Hey Steve, what’s up?” You asked him, a smile on your face. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to do something?” He said, looking down at your outfit, seeing you were already dressed to go. “But if you already have plans, that’s totally fine.” He said with a small smile on his face. “No, I was actually just about to come ask you if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me?” You gave him a small smile back, and raised your eyebrows in question. A big smile spread across his face as he nodded and gestured his arm in front of you, suggesting for you to lead the way. You smiled up at him and stepped past him through the door. 

Walking with Steve was always nice because it meant you had something to do while you talked. You and Steve had grown pretty close since your conversation you had in the kitchen a couple years ago, but you still got nervous and fidgety sometimes when you were around him because, well, you were still in love with him. So walking and talking was just easier than sitting around and talking. “So why do you need more books?”He said as the two of you walked down the sidewalk. “I always need more books, you know this, Steve.” He gave a small chuckle and turned to look at you, stopping on the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, and just looked at you. You gave him a look, confused why he was putting your walk on a halt. You raised your eyebrows and asked him, “What?”, laughing a little bit. “You’re just so b-” Before Steve could finish his sentence he was interrupted. 

One of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen just so happened to walk up to Steve, not even glancing in your direction. She was tall, blonde, beautiful, and more confident than you could ever think to be. Before you even had time to react to her, she was beaming up at Steve and talking to him. “Hi, sorry, I know this is kind of weird, but I just saw you from across the street, and wanted to come introduce myself. I’m Jen.” She said, batting her eyes up at him. “Oh, um, hi, I’m Steve, this is y/n.” He introduced the two of you, and smiled over at you as he said your name. Usually you loved when he said your name. The way his deep voice came out as he said ‘y/n’ always gave you butterflies in your stomach, but hearing him say your name because he was introducing you to a beautiful girl, who was so clearly interested in him, just made you feel like the gum on the bottom of your shoe. When Steve introduced you, you put on a fake smile that wasn’t even seen by her, as she clearly didn’t care about your presence, and kept her gaze focused on Steve. “Well, if you’re free sometime, call me.”She put on a sweet smile and grabbed his hand to put a small slip of paper, most likely with her number on it, in his hand. Before he could even respond, she turned away, but not before throwing a wink over her shoulder at him. And that’s when you realized if Steve Rogers could have girls like her, why would he want you?

“Nat. I need you to set me up on a date or something. I need serious romantic help, I’m tired of it.” After battling with your feelings for Steve, you figured it was finally time to move on. You and Steve were as close as you could possibly be at this point, and you hadn’t made any progress past friendship, and it was breaking your heart. You kept holding out hope, but if Captain America wasn’t going to make a move on you, it was never going to happen, and he just clearly wasn’t interested. You couldn’t keep pining over a man who didn’t want you. You were tired of setting unrealistic expectations for yourself, and decided to finally take Nat up on her offer of setting you up with someone. 

“Finally! I’ve been trying to set you up for years, what finally cracked you?” She said excitedly. Nat had been trying to set you up pretty much since the day you stepped into the tower. Once you and Steve started becoming friends, he helped you get more acquainted with everyone else on the team, and Natasha was one of the first. Which was another reason you fell in love with him. He cared so much about your wellbeing, and he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable and welcome where you lived, and you would be forever grateful for that. But that’s what friends do, and in your lovestruck haze, you decided to see it as him caring about you the same way you cared about him. 

“Nothing in particular, I think I just need a change, I guess.” You said, trying your best to give her a genuine smile. She just beamed back at you, “Well, I’m super happy you’re finally giving in. I will find the perfect guy for you, I promise.” She said, hopping off the stool she was sitting on and walked away with her eyes glued to her phone, typing away. 

–

Later that night you were sitting on the couch reading, while Steve sat on the other side of the couch with you. You heard him close his book and sit it down on the table beside him. You looked up from your book to him as he opened his mouth to say something. “Hey, uh, what are you doing tomorrow night?” He asked you, a shy smile on his face. Most of your plans consisted of spending time with Steve, and as you were about to tell him that, Natasha bounded into the room.

“I can tell you exactly what she’s doing tomorrow night.” Nat said, with a mischievous smile on her face. You had a feeling you knew exactly what she was going to say, and even though you asked her to set you up on a date, the last thing you wanted to happen was for her to tell you about a date she set you up on in front of Steve. “She’s going on a date. With Jack from the 7th floor. He’s so cute, y/n, you’ll love him. He loves books, and you guys have the same taste in music, I can’t wait.” She said, almost giggly. “You can’t wait for my date?” You said, laughing at her last statement. “Well, I’ve been trying to set you up for years, god forbid I get excited you finally said yes.” She said, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re going on a date?” You looked at Steve as he asked the question and gave him a nervous smile. “Um, yeah, I am. I finally took Nat up on her offer.” You said, throwing in a small laugh, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. “Thanks, Nat, I appreciate it,” You smiled up at her as you said it, and started to stand, “I think I’m going to head to bed now, though. Goodnight, you guys.” You smiled as you walked away, not able to stand being in the same room as you and Steve both found out you had a date for tomorrow. 

–

You couldn’t sleep. Of course you couldn’t sleep. All you could think about was Steve and what he might be thinking about your date. Did he care? Was he jealous? Was he just happy his best friend was finally going on a date? You didn’t want to be thinking about Steve, you wanted to be thinking about your date. Something you should be super excited for, but all you could think about was a certain captain. 

In the middle of another battle with your blankets while tossing and turning, you heard a soft knock on your door. You’d been in bed for hours trying to sleep, so you thought you just imagined it, but you heard the same soft knock again. Curious who could possibly be knocking on your door this late, you finally got up to answer your door. You opened the door to see a very distressed looking Steve in your doorway. “Hey, what’s up?” You asked, concerned. “Can I come in?” You nodded, and opened the door wider for him to come in, and closed it behind him. “Is everything okay? I thought you’d be asleep by now.” He didn’t respond and just started pacing back and forth in front of you. “Steve?” Hearing his name made Steve stop his pacing, and turn to look at you. “Why are you letting Nat set you up on a blind date?” He asked, with an almost frantic tone to his voice. “What? Do you have an issue with blind dates or something?” You were insanely confused. Steve was the kind of person who was always happy for you no matter what, so him practically barging into your room to ask you why you were going on a date was really out of character for him. 

“No, of course I don’t have a problem with blind dates. I have a problem with you going on a date. Y/n, I-” He cut himself off, looking down at the ground. You had no clue what to say, so you just stared at him, hoping he would finish his sentence. He looked back up from the ground, meeting your eyes. He walked towards you and didn’t stop until he was only a few inches away from you. “I can’t let you go on that date without telling you how I feel first.” As the words left his mouth, your eyebrows raised farther up your forehead than you thought possible. “W-what? What do you mean?” You asked, starting to think you were going crazy. This was starting to sound an awful lot like a confession, but Steve didn’t feel that way about you. There was no way. He saw you as his best friend, and that was it. He dropped his head down to his chest again, running his fingers through his hair as he let out a sigh. He slowly lifted his eyes again to meet yours. “Steve-” you began, but he cut you off. “I’m in love with you.” He said, sounding out of breath. Your eyes flew open. If you weren’t able to sleep before, you didn’t think you would ever be able to go to sleep. You couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t actually happening was it? There was no way Steve Rogers, Captain America, just told you that he was in love with you. It just wasn’t possible. You had to be dreaming, maybe you really did manage to fall asleep after all. If this was a dream, this was just cruel. “Y/n. Say something, please. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, and we can pretend like this never happened. But I need you to say something. Please.” You stared at him for a second, almost paralyzed. “I- really?” was all you could manage to get out. It felt like the first time the two of you ever talked again. You were that same girl you were three years ago when you were stumbling over your words, trying to find the right thing to say to him. 

“I’ve been in love with you from the second you walked in the tower. Of course I’m in love with you, y/n, how could I not be? I’ve fallen in love with every single part of you. Your laugh and how you make me laugh. I love how sometimes you almost seem embarrassed when you laugh, like you think you shouldn’t be laughing. I love when you smile at me, and I love when you say my name. I love seeing you fight and how powerful your mind is. I love your obsession with books and your need to buy ten more every time you finish one. I love that I’m the person you come to when you need to talk, or rant, or cry. I love being that person for you like you are for me. You’re so amazing, it almost hurts me, because I know that there is someone better out there for you. Hell, it’s probably that guy that Nat is setting you up with. But I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I let you go on that date without telling you how I feel. So yes, y/n, I really do love you.” Halfway into Steve’s talking tears began to form in your eyes. Not only did the man you’ve been in love with for years tell you he felt the same, but he did even more than that. He told you everything you’ve been longing to hear for years, and then some. 

“Oh, Steve.” You said, with a shaky voice. And for the first time, you made a move. Steve put his heart out on the line for you, and all you wanted to do was kiss him, so you did. You closed the distance between the two of you and put both of your hands on either side of his face, and crashed your lips to his. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. 

You broke the kiss, pressing your forehead to his, and sighed. “I love you more than anything, Steve.” You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips. This time, it was Steve who initiated the kiss.

[arelliann]

Wiggly Wednesday Friday 🧠🪱

I was tagged by @penny00dreadful a while ago, oops

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation’s Stobin cruise ship entertainers has thoroughly wormed its way into my brain and refuses to leave

Bonus point, when the Captain Hook actor is off sick Eddie has to take over and goes completely ham, very nearly leading a child army to mutiny the actual captain of the actual ship

[nadvs]

omg what if basketball!rafe takes reader out to dinner after a game or something, from sleeping with the enemy’s pleaseee

AHH SO CUTE YES OFC 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic

they keep hooking up after their first night together and rafe is in shock over how good the sex is and how much he enjoys her company. he’s a ‘hit it and quit it’ type of guy but he cannot get enough of her to the point where he can hardly wait for games against her college’s team because it’s a promise that he’ll see her.

one night a few weeks after they start being friends with benefits, his team suffers a loss by a few points against their worst rivals. he’s seething. the result of a game has a crazy effect on him. it always does.

he finds her courtside and while everyone around her is celebrating, she goes still once she notices him approaching her.

“close game,” she says, tilting her head while she looks up at him. at this point, she knows well enough how hard losses hit him.

eyes are on them. she can feel people judging how close she’s gotten to her side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete, but she doesn’t care.

rafe can tell she’s trying to make him feel better. underneath their usual harsh sarcasm and jokey insults, they’re two people who have a friendship built on sincere compatibility.

“your refs should be fired,” he mutters, pissed at how many calls against his opponents were missed. he’s sweaty and breathless from the game, his chest rising and falling at full tilt.

“oh, i’ll personally see to it,” she jokes. he scoffs, hating that he can’t stifle his smile.

“be ready in an hour,” rafe tells her. “i’ll pick you up from your dorm.”

“for what?”

“dinner,” he says assertively.

before he leaves, he pulls her in for a kiss. it’s a bonus that her ex sees. when she told him she wasn’t interested in max anymore, rafe couldn’t believe how relieved he was. he may have lost the game, but he won the girl.

rafe typically lays into his teammates after a bad loss. he’s a harsh captain but the guys respect him for it. but that night, he’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room. he’d never admit it to anyone, but knowing he’ll see her after this makes his anger lose its power.

she’s surprised that the restaurant he picked is as elegant as it is. she knows he came from money, but this place is nice. as they settle across from each other in a booth, she’s glad she dressed up.

“i didn’t say this,” she says, looking down at her menu, “but you’re right. the refs missed a lot of travelling on our side.”

“what?” rafe says, amused. “whatever happened to loyalty?”

“i told you i didn’t say anything,” she reiterates.

he taps his knuckles on the tabletop lightly, studying her.

“you don’t have to bullshit me,” he tells her.

“rafe,” she says seriously. “when do we ever bullshit each other?”

he meets her gaze, taking in how pretty she looks tonight. they’re just friends but on the outside, this looks like a date. he doesn’t mind.

“and you need to chill with the pushing,” she tells him. “you almost got fouled out.”

“did i?” he says with a laugh. he knows he did. he finds quite a lot of sick satisfaction in shoving his opponents.

“shut up,” she chuckles. “you won’t be laughing when you get benched.”

“don’t want that,” rafe mumbles. “who will you stare at then?”

“you stare at me,” she replies. “you said it yourself the first night we hooked up.”

“why are you thinking about hooking up right now?” he says, looking around the room. “this is a classy place.”

“you’re annoying as hell,” she laughs. “and for that, i’m ordering the most expensive thing. unless you’re not paying?”

“i’m paying,” he confirms. he doesn’t even want to joke about that. “and i’m coming over after.”

“depends on how this date goes,” she quips, looking back down at the menu.

rafe loves how laidback she is. how she can call it a date, but not expect him to be her boyfriend. it’s so easy with her. no expectations. just fun.

he never felt this good this fast after a loss. he doesn’t ever feel this relaxed with anyone. she may just be his best friend at this point.

she looks up, noticing his eyes on her.

“staring again?” she teases.

just a few seconds ago, she asked when they bullshit each other. they never do. he’d like to stick to that.

“yeah. you look good,” he tells her.

her skin flushes hot. she eyes him, the way the dim lighting washes over the planes of his face, the way he put an effort in tonight, dressing in a button-down instead of the usual t-shirt and sweats he wears whenever they meet for a booty call.

“at the risk of stroking your ego, so do you,” she replies.

“what else d’you wanna stroke?”

“jesus christ,” she laughs, nudging his knee under the table. he smirks.

whatever tense feelings were left over from tonight’s loss are gone now. he’s good. happy, even.

[seaslugfanclub]

These Aren’t the Candy Stripers, but They’ll Do

Hades, Jafar, Captain Hook x Sick!Reader

————————————————————————

“Uuuuughhhh”

“Wh- ew, the hell’s wrong with you?”

Hades stared down in mild disgust at (Y/N)’s collapsed body, Hook who was knelt besides them petting their hair, looked up at the god,

“The poor dog’s sick, that’s what. Pallor as a corpse and twice as clammy.”

“Oh. Yeeesh kid, why even bother showin’ up today?”

“Well I asked them the same thing, and all I got in response was them mumbling something about ‘attaining bread’… their fever must’ve made the poppet delusional.” Hook lifted (Y/N) up from beneath their shoulders, their body now limply resting against his own.

Hades rubbed the back of his neck, a slight pang of worry sparking in his chest as (Y/N) hacked into their arm. He remembered how mortals used to keel over from these types of things….

“Searching for sourdough aside, they can’t be here.”

“You don’t say?” Hook cooed sarcastically, “well what do you suggest we do?”

The flames atop Hades head flickered, the god hemming and hawing, before snapping his fingers.

“Why, we take ‘em home of course!”

Hook stared, his thin mustache twitching as he tried to conceal the sneer threatening to overtake his face. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably at Hooks tightening grasp.

“Blow me down, that’s just a marvelous idea! We’ll just tell the management that we’ll be leaving company grounds, driving a car that neither of us know how to use to (Y/N)’s home that we don’t know the location of! Brilliant old sport!!”

Hades looked down at the foppish pirate, nonplussed, before spreading his arms out

“James- pal—“

“You don’t get to call me James.”

“…James, pal— I think you forget the company that you’re in. We just happen to be amongst some of the slimiest, conniving, intelligent schmucks ever dreamed up. Here- pick ‘em up and walk with me.”

Against Hooks better judgement, he obliged to the god. Lifting the delirious attendant in his arm and following Hades down the hall.

“Me and a few others ‘ave been speaking about this for a while, y’know— letting bygone be bygones and getting our Σκατά together.”

“And why haven’t been included in these… ‘discussions’?” Hook asked, feeling slightly offended at being un-included

Hades waved his hands, “Ah, not important! This isn’t about you, it’s about our sweet (Y/N) getting proper home rest.”

Looking away from Hades after his dismissal of Hooks question, he realized where the god had been leading the trio, the door to Jafars room slightly open.

Hades, not even considering knocking, swung open the door to reveal Jafar, who was sat at his work desk and buffing his turban.

“WHA— Do you ever knock!?!?”

“What are you, a teenage girl? C’mon. (Y/N)’s sick and we’re taking ‘em home, time to do what we talked about.”

Jafar looked past Hades broad figure at Hook, then down at (Y/N) in his arms. Even in their feverish state, they managed to raise their arm in greeting. The irritated look across his face softened a bit.

“Ah, well then. Give me a moment”

Jafar stood from his seat, grabbing his turban off its stand and placing it back on his head. He then reached down to pick up his staff that rested beside him.

“Who is it we need to persuade?”

“Persuade? Just what in Neptunes name are two blithering about!?” Hook finally interrupted, his patience already strung thin.

“Patience Captain, it will all be explained in a moment~ Now Hades, please lead the way.” Jafar walked toward the trio, joining them in the hallway. He leaned over (Y/N), eyes furrowed as he watched sweat roll down their forehead.

“Oh, they really don’t look good.”

“Exactly, that’s why we need to have a talk with their shift supervisor about taking them home.” Hades began down the hall, not waiting for the others to catch up.

————————————————————————

“Are you two positive this will work?”

“I didn’t become the royal vizier through sheer luck. It’s best you have some faith in me.”

The group stood outside the (Y/N)’s shift supervisors office. Hades rested against the wall with (Y/N) in his arms, Hook needing a break after carrying them for at least an hour.

“They’ve been here long enough, let’s get them the rest they deserve.” Jafar said, rapping his knuckles against the door, “Watch a professional at work.”

The office door opened, the supervisor failing to hide his shock at the sight of the villains.

“Oh! Uh—Jafar? What’s up?”

Jafar gestured towards (Y/N) with his staff, the motion hiding the ruby eyes of the cobra beginning to glow.

“Your hardworking employee, (Y/N), has fallen ill. You will let them off early and give them a fully paid sick leave.”

The supervisors eyes glazed over, the red glow from the staff reflecting off his irises.

“Sick?….of course…they deserve rest..”

Hook stared in shock, having never seen Jafars powers up close before. Hades didn’t care to look, a satisfied smirk growing on his face as he used his heat to keep (Y/N) from shivering.

Jafar grinned, stifling a chuckle as he held his staff closer towards the shift supervisor’s face,

“We will also be taking our darling attendant home, so clear our schedules as well.”

The man muttered something incoherent, turning stiffly towards his work computer, most likely to log (Y/N) sick leave.

Jafar closed the door, turning around to the mildly horrified Hook and a very pleased Hades.

“Look at you, stretch face! Seems like you still got it!” Hades praised, adjusting his hold of (Y/N) to give the sorcerer a flaming thumbs up.

“Yes, now that the… ‘official’ side of this has been dealt with, let’s get the dear home. Are their keys in their locker?”

“Ooh~ way ahead of ya!” With a flick of his wrist, plumes of smoke accumulated in his palm, before disappearing to reveal (Y/N)’s bag.

“Here, catch.” Hades threw the bag at Hook, who fumbled to grab it with his hand, still very much in shock.

“Wha— how- You can use your magic!?” Hook manage to get out, following behind Hades and Jafar towards the exit of the studio. “I thought they left your magic behind when they brought us all here!?”

“Yeah, so did we. That was actually true for a while, but a few weeks back Maleficent sprouted a thorn bush through the floor during one of her fits.”

A slightly yellowed exit sign hung over the back doors of the studio, the employees parking lot visible through the glass of the doors. With a push, Jafar opened the exit doors, letting Hades crouch through the doorframe, Hook following suit, the pirate quickly thanking Jafar.

“So— of course she told us all, and after a few tests ourselves, some of our magic was returning.”

“But not in full, that little trick of mine back there used up all my energy. But it was more magic compared to a few weeks ago,”

Jafar turned to look at Hook, a near manic smile on his face,

“We’re getting our power back.”

————————————————————————

They made their way down the rows of cars, each of them still unfamiliar with modern day technology.

“So, which one of these machines belongs to (Y/N)?” Jafar asked, playing with the feather atop his turban

“If I had to guess, it’d be that beast there.” The Captain gestured with his hook towards a specific car. The car displayed a strange custom license plate, with stickers of (Y/N)s favorite media covering the sides of the trunk window, one specific sticker proudly reading ‘I❤️dilfs’.

“Yep, that’s the one.”

Hook opened (Y/N)’s bag, rummaging around before pulling out a lanyard at least 2 pounds heavy with the amount of keychains on it.

“Oh, for the love of—”

Combing through the keychains finally reveals a set of car keys.

Hades took the keys from Hook and pressed the button to unlock the doors.

“Alright get in. Here—Jafar, you sit with (Y/N) in the back. James, you get passenger seat.”

After some glorified hot potato with (Y/N)s body, everyone got into their seats. Their attendants head resting on Jafars lap as Hades and Hook fiddled with the dashboard. Hades put the keys into the ignition like he’d seen on Tv, but anything after that stumped him.

“This isn’t like any boat I’ve ever steered..”

“No kidding, this isn’t exactly a chariot ride either. But that’s where I put my title of god to good use.”

A look of concentration passed over Hades face, his brows furrowed as he gripped the steering wheel. After a minute, tiny blue flames traveled down Hades arms and across the steering wheel and dashboard. In a flash of heat, the car started, engine rumbling and lights on.

“YES! Hades rules!!” The god cheered, pumping his fists and singeing the roof of the car.

Hook flinched at the sudden movement, gripping the leather seat and slightly tearing it with his hook.

Hades turned towards the men, moving his eyebrows,

“Check this out~”

The car began to slowly reverse, Hades hands nowhere near the wheel. The car steered itself out of the parking spot and began to drive out of the employee lot.

“Incredible…” Hook whispered to himself, even Jafar was silently impressed.

Somehow, (Y/N) broke through unconsciousness, looking around blearily,

“I didn’t buy a plan ticket…?”

“Don’t worry (Y/N), this puppy already knows where to go. Just hold tight and rest up.”

“Ah.. just wake me up when we land..” they mumbled as their fever overtook them.

“I forget (Y/N) has a life outside of us,” Jafar mused, “I wonder what little hovel they call home..”

————————————————————————

When Jafar called (Y/N)s home a Hovel, he had only been partly joking, he didn’t expect his darling to live somewhere like…this.

The car had managed to drive the forty five minute long journey to (Y/N)s house without incident, save for the confused looks from drivers in passing cars. But as closer the car grew to (Y/N)s home, so did the men’s concern.

“Blimey, I’ve seen pirate coves in better condition..” Hook grimaced.

“Yeah no kiddin’… I thought for a second that this car took a wrong turn into the underworld.” Hades chuffed, squinting out the window at a raccoon making off with what seemed like full pack of beer.

The car slowly pulled into a parking lot of a dingy apartment complex, stopping neatly between some other cars and turning off.

“Well— let’s get ‘em home.” Hades ordered, everyone getting out of the car and walking towards the complex. It seemed like no one was outside their apartments, but the villains didn’t want to take any chances, quickly hurrying to a partially covered area.

Hades looked down at (Y/N)s body, which was now being carried by Jafar, and began to slightly nudge their shoulder.

“Babe— Kid, wake up.”

(Y/N) coughed, blinking away sleep to look up at the god.

“We’re here. What’s your apartment number?”

It took a few minutes for the question to be processed before (Y/N) finally responded, the number just barely being whispered out before falling back asleep.

“I don’t like how unresponsive they’ve been, we need to get them to bed.” Hook murmured, taking the lead.

Hook read each individual address before stopping at the correct number. Hades fished the keys out of his chiton, and unlocked the faux wooden door, revealing (Y/N)s home.

The men gaped at the interior. The inside of (Y/N)s apartment was a polar opposite to the filth and chintzy neighborhood. Sure—the apartment was a glorified broom closet, but (Y/N) had managed to work with the space, decorating the interior as tastefully as their budget allowed.

The walls were covered in art prints and photographs of (Y/N)s family, and every surface was covered in trinkets. Even the air smelt like them, a mix of natural musk and their favorite detergent.

For a moment, the villains felt like they were intruding on some sacred space, never having been surrounded by so much… (Y/N), before.

Jafar pushed past the others, walking towards (Y/N)s unmade bed. The rested the attendant down on the mattress, taking their shoes off and pulling the covered over their body.

“Well at least they’re in a proper bed,” Jafar mused “I’ll check the washroom for anything to break their fever.”

Hook looked down at (Y/N), whose pained expression had now softened at being in bed. He strained his mind to remember what his mother had done when he was sick, everything before Neverland was a blur, but through hazy scenes and faces he remembered a blurry bowl of soup being presented to him.

“They’ll need something to take the medicine with. I’ll look through the dears kitchen for something to cook up.” The pirate spoke up, looking up at Hades for confirmation before walking into the small kitchen across from (Y/N)s bed.

That left Hades alone, standing at the foot of (Y/N)s bed. For a moment he just watched the rising and falling of their chest, the sight of a living body being almost uncomfortably unfamiliar.

A shine caught Hades eye, his attention turning towards the picture frame on (Y/N)s bedside table. Other than an empty glass and some medication bottles, the photograph was the only thing noteworthy near his park attendants bed.

Hades leaned down, taking the photograph into his hands for a closer look, only to nearly drop it when he realized what this photo was.

It was the picture that (Y/N) had taken of all the Villains in the studio, after the 100th year anniversary celebration. Each Villains expression a range of confusion and joy. Thinking back to that day, Hades was sure that was the first time any of the Villains were actually happy since they were brought to ‘life’.

And here it was, neatly displayed in an expensive looking frame.

“Geez kid… we-” Hades paused, for the first time in his miserable existence, he was at a loss for words.

“We really mean something to you, don’t we?..”

————————————————————————

The feeling of something cool against their head was what woke (Y/N) up. They cursed at their consciousness, being met with a headache.

For a moment they just stayed still, trying to remember why they were asleep in the first place.

They knew that they woke up with a fever, and tried to push through it, but everything after that was a blur. All they remember was the sensation of being carried, and….being on a plane?

(Y/N) opened their eyes, rubbing the crust away before reaching towards the wet sensation on their forehead. Pulling away the object, they saw it was an old washcloth.

“What…”

Groggy and a little anxious at not being able to recall most of their day, (Y/N) sat up, now realizing they were in bed…back in their apartment.. still dressed in their work clothes..

“Poppet!”

(Y/N)s eyes darted towards their kitchen, mouth falling open in shock at the sight of Hook in their apron, holding a ladle. The man had a rare smile, furthering (Y/N)s confusion.

“James? Wh—am I still dreaming?”

Hook gave them an odd look, before shaking his head and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Oh no, dear. This is actually the first time you’ve woken since we brought you home.” Hook spoke before calling out, “They’re awake, men!”

Shuffling was heard beyond (Y/N)s bed, Hades and Jafar rushing towards their attendant.

“Kid!! How’r ya feeling?”

“You had us worried half to death, I had half the mind to begin blood letting to release the bad humors myself.”

(Y/N) just stared at the men, processing everything that is happening before croaking out,

“I’m pulling through…but what the hell??”

“You collapsed at work (Y/N).” Hades spoke, using (Y/N)s real name to relay his seriousness. “Hook found ya in the hallway with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. We took it upon ourselves to bring you home!”

“…Okay…” (Y/N) nodded, “how?”

“We drove you home, of course!” Jafar grinned. “We’ll tell you all the details later, long conversations aren’t fitting for a fever.”

“Aye, that’s why we’re here, who best to take care of you than the greatest minds ever drawn?” Hook finally walked into the bedroom, holding a steaming bowl. He cut through the others, placing the bowl into (Y/N)’s hands.

“Here, love. You need something in your stomach to for the medicine to take effect.”

(Y/N) managed to break their eyes away from the men, taking the bowl and bringing it to their lips, lightly blowing before taking a long sip.

The soup was… edible. (Y/N) could tell Hook had used measly ingredients left over in the kitchen. The soup being a strange amalgamation of tinned fish and wilted herbs, but still, it sat warm in (Y/N)s stomach.

“Thank you for the soup, James” (Y/N) spoke, their voice now clearer from the warm broth, “I’m already feeling better.”

Hook preened, ignoring the withering looks from Hades and Jafar.

“No, seriously. Thank you, guys. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up, I know I’m not that popular amongst the rest of the staff, so if it wasn’t for you I think I would’ve driven my self home. That, or crawl my way to your lounge like a leper.” (Y/N) looked down at the bowl, a little embarrassed at their genuineness.

“If I didn’t have snot running down my nose right now, I’d give you all kisses to show my thanks!” They grinned, trying to break the tension.

The men all had varying degrees of reaction, each of them shifting between flustered and disgust.

“Save the sap for later, kid. We’ll figure out how you can repay us tomorrow, as well as give you all the exhilarating details on how we got you here.” Hades ruffled (Y/N)s hair, ignoring their groans in protest.

“That’s right darling, just worry about breaking that fever. We’ll be here until you’re well again~” Jafar mused, giving a wave of his hand and turning towards (Y/N)s couch, planning on making the most of their extensive movie collection.

“Aye, especially since our schedules have been cleared! We might even have us a day for you to show us around! I’ve always wanted to see the beaches here…” Hook readjusted the covers on (Y/N)s body.

Hades and Hook left (Y/N)s side, going to join Jafar on the couch, leaving their attendant tucked into bed.

…

“Wait—what do you mean our schedules are cleared? WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO—!?”

————————————————————————

Yay!! This has been in the works for a while! I’ve been wanting to iron out the timeline of the Villains, and if they still had their powers after being brought to reality. I headcannon that Disney took away there powers, but after a while the Villains got them back.

I had Covid a month ago (The day I had to help my sister move), and when I was sick in bed all I wanted was to be doted on, so this is super self indulgent

[frudoo]

Two days too late, but here’s Price in lingerie ;)

Warnings: SMUT. John is bound by ropes. Humiliation/degradation. Ball gag. Lingerie, obviously. Boot grinding. Orgasm denial. Ass eating, anal fingering, prostate milking. Mentions of cunnilingus but no scene of it. Dom/sub dynamics. Fem!Reader.

MDNI

“On your knees, Captain.”

John’s bushy eyebrows furrow with disdain as he looks up at you from the ground, thick ropes tied taut around his biceps and forearms, wrists intertwined behind his back. Decorating his furry torso is a brown leather corset with mesh straps that fall off of his shoulders, and a matching mesh g-string that’s practically glued to his crotch, soaked through with his precum. It’s obvious by the pinprick size of his pupils that he’s ready to cuss you out—pity, given that he can’t speak around the ball gag you placed in his mouth.

“Look at you, fuckin’ slag. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You tease, reaching down to gently scratch the underside of his chin where drool is pooling in his beard. “Wearing your wife’s lingerie like a cheap whore.”

John growls in annoyance, and you cock an eyebrow, wrapping your hand around his throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure. It does nothing to settle his bratty attitude. Scowling, you push the toe of your boot onto his throbbing dick, fingertips hooking on either side of his jaw so that he’s forced to be still and maintain eye contact with you.

“Keep it up and I’ll put you outside, you old mutt,” you hiss, smirking when you see the slightest resignation in his crystal blue eyes. “Yeah? Gonna behave, now?”

Your husband nods, and you pat his stubbled cheek in approval. Slowly, you rub your boot along his shaft, biting your lip at the sound of the paper-thin fabric of the panties squelching with every move. You tut down at him with a faux pout tugging at your bottom lip.

“So wet for me, baby,” you coo, watching the slow burn of his skin rising up, cherry-red arousal showing itself in his flushed neck and rosy cheeks.

John whines, hips bucking erratically in an attempt to get more friction on his leaking cock. His jaw is clenched tightly—you’re positive that when this is all said and done, the ball gag will absolutely need to be trashed, chewed up and destroyed like a dog’s favorite toy. His chest is puffing out with every heave, the leather creaking as it pulls tight around his torso, furry belly threatening to break loose.

“Gaggin’ for it, aren’t you?” You mock, grazing your fingertips over his scalp as he looks up at you with glossy eyes. “Oh, I know, honey. I know you need more.”

Your man nods, huffing through his nose as he leans forward to rub his cheek against your thigh. It’s pathetic—he looks like a kicked puppy, and you almost feel bad. Still, the past week of him being home from assignment had been nothing but John being an irritable bastard, taking his anger out on you in screaming fits, and you finally got sick of it. This is his punishment. You let him work himself up until his eyes are rolling back into his skull and you know he’s about to cum, then take a step back, watching as he stumbles forward and lands face-down on the rug. He grunts in pain and you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Cap, didn’t mean to make you lose your balance,” you snicker, striding around his tense body so you can see where his ass is in the air, completely exposed to the cool air of the bedroom.

“I was gonna have you lay on the bed before I play with this perfect fucking ass, but you just look so good down there, don’t you, baby?” You suck your teeth and give his right cheek a sharp smack, watching the way it ripples and rubbing the mark in a soothing motion.

John groans, the muscles of his biceps flexing so hard that you think he might hurt himself. You get on your knees behind your husband, leaning forward to press a couple of teasing kisses against his white-tinged knuckles where his fists are strained against the elaborately tied ropes. You leisurely kiss your way down to his hips, then the small of his back, until you reach the thin strap of fabric between his ass. You pull it back and snap it so that it hits his puckered hole sharply, making him whimper.

“That the spot?” You keen, repeating the action to watch as he shoves back against you, desperate for more.

Wasting no more time, you pull aside the flimsy g-string so you have complete access to his ass. You can hear John exhale heavily when you lick a long stripe up between his cheeks, flattened surface wet and scalding hot against his tight ring. He lifts his head as best as he can in an attempt to see you, huffing in defeat when you push him back down so that his cheek rests against the carpet.

“You don’t get to look at me,” you inform him bluntly, biting into the flesh of his inner thighs, then back up to your intended target. “Just take what I give you.”

John’s eyes roll back at the feeling of you spitting a glob of saliva onto his hole, allowing the tip of your middle finger to spread the fluid and prod his insides just slightly. It gets him moaning, though, and the sound is divine—enough to make you slowly insert your entire digit into the hot clutch of his ass, knuckle deep.

“So tight,” you mutter breathily, curling your finger downward the way he would if he was the one fingering you in this position.

Your husband pushes his hips back in silent invitation once again. A second finger makes its way inside of him, stretching the ring of muscle deliciously. You pump back and forth steadily, curving your fingers to press right up against his prostate and get him whimpering beneath your ministrations. He’s already pent up from earlier when you denied him his orgasm, clenching pathetically around the digits in his ass, unsure of what to do with his hands although they’re still bound. You shush him gently.

“Be good for me and I’ll give you a treat, yeah?” You bargain, scissoring your fingers inside of him. “Cum all nice for me and I’ll let you lick my pussy, that sound good?”

John nods frantically, squeezing his eyes shut tight as your fingertips relentlessly massage the sensitive patch inside him. There’s a squelch and then a milky substance coats your digits, creamy and slick as you fuck it back into him.

“Creaming all over my fingers, baby, you gettin’ close?” You purr, reaching your free hand around to cup his aching cock.

He ruts against your hand in response, more precum leaking from his slit into the crevices of your palm.

“That’s right, my big bear, cum for me. Show your wife how fucking capable you are of following orders. Yeah, you got it- yes!”

His gruff voice breaks when he reaches his peak, growls dissolving into soft little whines as hot semen spurts from his prick, seeping through the mesh fabric of the panties. His arms tense and rip the sleeves of the corset, making you laugh as you work him through the high. Once you feel his cock twitch and his body relax, you gently pull your fingers from his ass and give him one last spank for good measure.

“Did so good for me, John,” you praise with a whisper, helping him sit up before untying the ropes and removing the ball gag from his mouth.

John stretches his body as soon as you untie the corset, groaning low in his throat when his joints pop. He stands and removes the rest of the outfit before wrapping his burly arms around your waist and pulling your plush body down on top of him. You giggle, bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He pulls you down into a heated kiss, wide palms splaying across your hips to drag you further up his body. He grunts when you hesitate.

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Never gonna yell at you again, swear it, just- please, sweet’eart, I want my treat.”

He begs so prettily with those baby blues, and it doesn’t take much convincing for you to oblige. After all, he was good for you. You go to slip off your boots, but-

“No. Leave ‘em on.”

Maybe you’ll need to put him in his place more often.

[leiswxrld]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❥)

pairings: ellie!williams x fem!reader

sypnosis: it’s Valentine’s Day, a special day to spend with your loved ones right but what if a slasher is going around killing only once a year on this special day.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, college slasher, anal fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), top ellie and bottom reader, face riding (r receiving), reader giving ellie a lap dance, weed and drugs, praises + degradation (mama, slut, baby, whore), ellie calls her strap her dick, strawberry vape supremacy, graphic content, college au

a/n: happy valentines my lovelies, I know this is a day late but I had to touch up a few things before I could post this and I’ve also been so busy yesterday so it had to wait till I got home, not proof read so there might be a few mistakes, low-key inspired by scream.

credits: @magicalboything @cafekitsune for line dividers ❥

'Good evening folks, this is Heather Gale reporting live from channel 5 with tonight’s news, it's that time of year where couples, friends and family around the world express their love and affection towards their loved ones but one striking question has our community in constant fear and paranoia, will the valentines day killer strike again ?'

'Today marks the death of late cheerleader captain Melissa brown who was found brutally stabbed over 20 times in the chest and stomach in her college dorm room a red rose left on her chest, police say she was returning from a party when she was viciously attacked by the killer, friends and family say she was a bright student, kind friend and positive role model for those who admired her, the community are desperately fighting to get Melissas killer found and behind bars.'

'Police ask that if you have any leads or tips that could potentially catch the Valentines Killer, they urge you to either report it to the police station or to anonymously send in your information, this is Heather Gale on channel 5 and I hope you all stay safe and well this Valentines.'

- -

"Really a valentines party" you reply in disbelief at the instagram post one of the boys from the football team had posted, you couldn't believe they were throwing a party when you were all advised not to throw any especially when the valentines killer could strike again.

"Yeah sick right I was thinking of going" your friend amarie says, scrolling onto the post and liking the picture. you throw her a dirty look, "amarie you know the college advised us not to attend any parties especially after what happened to heather she was killed straight after the party we went to last year" it felt so surreal when you found out she had been stabbed to death just after returning from the college party you attended that year, you remember being in your room when it came up on the news that starville's captain cheerleader was found dead.

"cmon y/n don't be such a whore, we'll all be together and we live in the same dorm room besides I'm pretty sure the killer only kills cheerleaders" she replies and you roll your eyes, "it's not just cheerleaders amarie it's anyone who goes to this fucking college, we're all at risk and were at a higher risk if we attend that stupid party"

amarie turns off her phone paying all her attention towards you, "think about it when was the last time you actually went to a party and got laid no offence but bitch I feel depressed just looking at you"

you cross your arms, "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"it means I feel like I'm living with a christian.. your sex life is drier than a fucking desert" she remarks and you scoff, really.

"difference christians wait till marriage... reminder I have already lost my virginity" you remind her, the last time you really had sex was with a boy you hooked u with a few weeks back but you really didn't get the time to find someone and the only thing keeping you satisfied was your vibrator which was in dire need of some batteries.

"more of a reason for you to come to this party and get laid come on think about it, so many of the girls in our dorm are going we can't miss out on this opportunity besides I hear charlies going to be there" she replies, smiling to herself. Charlie was the star quarterback on the football team and one of the many boys she was frequently hooking up when she got the chance too.

"and that has something to do with me how" you reply and she shrugs her shoulders, "it means that there might be a chance you might meet someone you actually like" she replies, you ponder for a second..it could be a chance to finally hook up with someone.

"fine but I’m only going because I’m getting sick of using my vibrator plus there will be free drinks" you finally decide and she throws you a hella side eye, "girl tmi…” she says and you laugh, “now I need to go freshen up" she says, doing a little victory dance while looking at herself through her phone camera.

it was a good thing that the boys house was a 15 minute drive from your college building which meant you only spent around 5 dollars each for an Uber to get there. the house was the hotspot for most of the college parties that were thrown, a big estate with a pool and 3 floors meaning you could fit over a hundred people inside, "this thong is digging into my ass it feels like I've got carpet burn" amarie says, picking at the bright pink thong underneath her pink skirt.

You both choose to go all out, you in a red boob top and black skirt whilst amarie was wearing a pink corset top with a pink skirt. "I told you to choose the black one at the shop" you remark and she smacks her lips, "it wasn't going to match the cute pink corset top and skirt I've got so I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up" she replies, applying a thin layer of lip gloss on.

You both walk into the house, people stood near the entrance either drinking or getting smoking. you could see the inside of the house bathed in colourful lights, music blaring out into the cold midnight air.

Your strawberry flavoured vape clutched in your right hand as the stress began to creep in, your couldn't imagine that the valentine's killer could possibly strike again this year but the idea of it scared you shitless. You bring the vape to your lips inhaling the vapour as you taste the strawberry fumes enter your lungs, "I didn't expect for the party to be this fucking packed" you admit as amarie nods her head, "yeah seems like the whole campus" she pauses, "and a few other people from nearby attended"

you make it inside, pushing past your way through the sea of people making your way towards the kitchen, "You guys actually made it" Stacy another one of your friends says, going to hug you, "I mean I was expecting amarie but y/n that's a first" you give her a face that screams 'girl really' and she laughs, "no hard feelings babe but I never see your ass outside of your room except if you have class"

"none taken" you reply, manoeuvring around her so you could pour yourself a drink. you decide to do a classic vodka cranberry, basic but could easily get you drunk. "y/n pour some vodka in my cup" amarie says, holding the red solo cup towards you. you grab the bottle, pouring it until it hit the middle line, "girl quit playing pour me some more"

"You want to drink straight vodka"

"I'm trying to get shitfaced not drunk" she replies as if she was pointing out the obvious, you pour some more until it was nearly full. You down the vodka cranberry, putting down the bottle of vodka as you make your way onto the dance floor. the music blared through the speakers as you and your friends danced in the living room, grinding against amarie as she used her free hand to smack your ass.

You felt the unwanted and lustful eyes from every boy in room, ignoring them as you continued to grind against her taking a swig of your drink. Your eyes wandered for a second until they landed on a girl just poarched up against the banister of the stairs, talking to boy you recognised to be Charlie.

You'd fancied girls in the past but never took it further than just straight crushing but she was different, you don't think you'd ever seen her before on campus otherwise you wouldn't forget such a beautiful face. The mysterious brunette was dressed in a white wife beater, blue baggy jeans with a pair of retro red jordan's, the girl takes her eyes off of Charlie to look at you for a second, licking her lips before looking you up and down, not missing the long stare on your half exposed ass.

She had a blunt in her hand, taking a few drags from it before taking her attention off of you. You stop grinding and turn around to face amarie who's looking at your confused, "bitch why did you stop"

"who's that girl over there" you say discreetly pointing in direction of the staircase, "what girl" she replies, squinting her eyes to get a better look.

"that one with the tattoos going all up her arms" she looks once again before grinning, "ohhh that girl"

"that's ellie I only know her cause she normally sells weed to Charlie when we’re together I forgot how fucking fine she was" she adds taking a swig of her vodka, "shit I need another drink I'll be back"

amarie makes her way to the kitchen leaving you with a few of your other friends who were busy dancing on each other, thinking about it now you needed another drink.

You noticed that Ellie had moved to the couch some girl chatting her up as she seemed to not be listening, blunt in hand. she notices you right away, eyes lowered a fraction and manspreading with one leg propped up on the couch. a surge of confidence ran through you as you decide to go sit yourself next to her, she licks her lips turning to face you.

"why'd you stop dancing" she starts, offering the blunt to you as you happily accept it. you laugh, "what did you like my dancing" you reply, taking a drag before handing it back to her.

"I mean I liked what I was seeing" she admits boldly, making you shuffle nervously under her intimidating gaze, "if you'd like I could give you a lap dance" you offer and she raises a brow.

"you want to give someone you just met a lap dance huh" yes and no but this was the alcohol talking.

"yeah if you want I know a few things" you state and she thinks about it for a sec before standing up, "ok follow me doll" you blush at the nickname, taking ellies hand as she leads you upstairs, you look at amarie who's still in the kitchen pressed against the counter as she made out with Charlie, her hands wrapped around his neck as his were around her waist, typical amarie.

you passed so many people, a group of people doing drugs on the floor and the others doing dares on eachother on the other side of the room. her grip on your hand tightened, trying to avoid stepping on the people sat on the stairs to prevent yourself falling. there were many occupied rooms passing through all of them till you found a vacant one, ellie allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you.

the rooms quite big, a double bed with a lamp on each side with little side tables and a vanity behind you with picture frames on top, "you nervous" she asks almost taunting, sitting on the edge of the bed. the new found confidence from earlier was replaced with anxiety as it began to seep in, you've only jokingly given your friend a lap dance but that was only because you were dared to do it but that was out of the question now since you were sobering up and doing it for real.

"yeah" you admit and she chuckles, "don't worry I won't judge beside who's going to complain when they've got a pretty girl grinding on their lap" she grins and you roll your eyes with a smile as you remove your shoes.

the tension in the room was thick, Ellie's hands pressed against the sheets, the overbearing loud music coming from downstairs giving you a headache and the sounds of moans emitting from the other side of the walls, "remember no touching me this is just a dance" you emphasise, going to straddle her lap.

"I got you" she says, keeping her hands to her sides. you start by whining your hips against her lap, hands slowly brushing over her thighs feeling her tense up beneath you. you twisted around, moving to rhythm of the music each movement against her lap making you feel the unsuspected bulge tucked underneath her jeans.

she knows you felt it, fighting the urge to just scrap the lap dance and touch you, the friction against her strap rubbing up against her aching clit, pussy wet just watching you. she instinctively swallowed as your grinding increased, practically fucking her with clothes on, your red laced panties soaked in your own arousal, biting back the urge to moan.

Ellie mumbles in cohesively, her voice low and hoarse as you lift up off of her, seductively moving your hips towards the floor whilst your skirt rode up your ass, exposing the red lace that sat perfectly around your waist. you turn back around, the dim light in the room showing Ellie's eyes that had now darken in colour, her fists locked up tight that they turned red.

You kiss your way up her clothed body, seating yourself back onto her lap as you continued till you reached her neck, leaving love bites all over until you reached her cherry red lips, hovering over them before teasingly backing away, "I know you feel it.... pull it out" her voice low, looking up at you.

"feel what" you innocently tease, gasping when she grips onto your hips, "h-hey I said no touching"

"don't act smart with me...pull.it.out" she tells you and you give her a hesitant look, "what you never seen a dick before"

"no dumbass I have but I've just never done it with a girl" you shamefully admit and she just laughs, "I guess I'll be your first" her hands wrap around your back so that your laying on top of her and gently wraps her hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

her lips were addicting, not like the many boys you've hooked up with who just kissed for the sake of it but she took her time with you, it's almost like having sex but with her mouth allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth as you moan, your hand going under her top rubbing up and down her stomach.

she pulls away, helping you remove her belt, quickly pulling her jeans down showing the very prominent bulge through her black calvin klein boxers "before you sit on it, I want you to fuck my face with your pussy" your face heats up at her words, embarrassment flooding through your body leaving your clit throbbing.

"you want me sit on your face" you ask almost astonished, "yes is that a problem?" she questions, "well no-

"then sit this pussy on my fucking face" she interrupts and you quickly follow, removing your black skirt and red lace before throwing them into a random corner of the room. you slowly, hover your cunt over her face scared that you might accidentally suffocate her.

she slaps your ass, "lower yourself down more" she growls, gripping your legs and pulling you onto her mouth. you slowly rock your hips against her mouth, ellie pressing her tongue against your clit, flicking her tongue up and down your vulva making your legs tremble, a whimper leaving your glossed lips.

Ellie’s sucking and biting, her nails digging into the fat of your thighs, your juices mixing in with her saliva that dripped down her chin. Your legs shake and ellie gets more faster, your head fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving, you felt like screaming covering your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans.

You never imagined you'd be getting head by girl at a college party whilst there were hundreds of people downstairs, the thought of it made you even wetter and you were fucking thankful you decided to come.

you finally come with a silent scream, gripping onto the headboard as she continued to go down on you until she was done, adding onto the best fucking head that you had gotten in ages. she taps your thigh, allowing you to raise up off of her face, your face heating up at ellie's wet face.

"you taste so good mama" she says, licking her lips and sitting up on the bed. she cracks her neck, giving you a kiss allowing you to taste yourself. "but I'm not done with you" she says, slapping your inner thigh.

"I want you to get on your knees and suck this dick baby" she moves her self to the edge of the bed, giving you room to get on your knees. you follow, getting in between her legs, she opens your mouth with her fingers and slips them inside until they were coated in your saliva before using them as lubricant to stroke herself, tapping the tip against your wet lips.

"say ahh..." you slightly open your mouth allowing her to slip her dick into your mouth, it's been a while since you've last given head, slowly bobbing your head up and down her length, she's just watching you using her fingers to tilt your head up so that you could make eye contact with her, her hands grip onto the back of your messy hair, helping you to go down on her faster your eyes filling up with tears, trying to open up your throat more so that you wouldn't gag.

"fuck..." she whispers, fumbling with something on the bed before pulling out her phone. your pace doesn't falter, watching as she presses the record button, the flash brightening up the dim room. you moan, trying so hard not to choke as you sloppily bob your head up and down faster, eye contact not ceasing.

you felt ashamed yet turned on at the same time at being recorded, ellie stroking your hair back to prevent it from falling into your face. your surprised you had been going on for this long, feeling the evident tiredness in your jaw, drool seeping from your mouth and lubricating her dick. she stops you, slowly pushing you off her, allowing you to catch your breath.

"I love watching you suck my dick baby but I wanna see how well you can take it" she admits, camera still recording. "get on all fours mama" she says standing up as you get up from your knees. she waits for you to get on all fours, arching your back as she climbs onto the bed behind you phone in hand, positioning herself.

she spreads your ass, spitting onto your gaping hole allowing it to drip down over as she uses her thumb to rub it in before prodding her tip against your glistening cunt, slowing pushing herself into you. you gasp, your mouth widening into an 'o', the feeling of her dick stretching you out, but before she could even move there's a sudden knock on the door.

"Room is occupied" Ellie yells, awaiting for the person behind the door to move along but the person on the other side doesn't go, knocking once again, "I said the room is occupied asshole go and fuck some place else" the person on the other side get's the message, walking away from the door.

"some fucking people" ellie whispers to you which makes you giggle. she starts to rock her hips into you, putting the palm of her hand against your back helping you to fuck back onto her. she fucked into you so lovingly but so fucking rough, hitting your g-spot that had you gasping and cursing, biting on your lip and your hand going to grip onto the sheets, "shit"

Ellie doesn't stop recording, one hand gripping onto your hips whilst thrusting into you, cursing at the way your ass moved against her hips. you turn around to look at her, her hair falling into her face as ellie looked back at you. she looked so fucking sexy in just her wife beater, showcasing all the different tattoos she had to offer... you don't think you've ever been this fucking whipped for someone with the way she had you acting.

"you should see how fucking perfect you look on camera...should turn your slutty ass into a fucking pornstar shit" you moan in response to her words, fucking yourself back onto her. your pants get louder, the squelching noises from your gushing cunt getting louder every time ellie pulled back, she slaps your ass watching how it jiggled under the camera light. "fuck.....elsss"

your cheeks were flushed and your forehead was lined with sweat, feeling ellie get deeper every time she pulled you back onto her, receiving cute and desperate moans from your lips as your tits bounce with every rough drag of her hips.

You practically trying to pull away, begging ellie to let you come as she pounded you into the bed, her thumb pressing against your labia, rubbing against it.

You gasp again, feeling her finger slowly slip into your exposed hole the uncomfortable feeling making you clench around her fingers, she curls her fingers almost doing a ‘come here’ motion, whispering for you to relax so that it wouldn’t feel as painful, she gradually builds her speed making you feel lightheaded, this new fucking feeling making you dizzy.

"so fucking tight" she fists her fingers into you, the rings around your walls clenching around her skinny fingers whilst pounding into you as your eyes rolled shut.

You start to spasm around her strap before you know it your creaming around her dick, your climax riding out as she continued to milk you, her pace never faltering, “f-fuck stop els it’s too much”

“be a good little whore and cum for me again” that alone sends you over the edge and your cumming again, not believing you could even come more than twice as she lazily gives you a few more thrusts before pulling out her dick coated in your sweet juices, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, allowing you to catch your breath.

you could hear your heart beating out of your ears, laying there slumped on the bed before ellie stopped the recording. you remain motionless, trying to catch your breath as ellie helped you up from the bed. You both messily get dressed in silence, your back turned as you applied your strawberry lipgloss that had smeared off before a notification on ellie's phone catches her attention, "I-uh gotta go- something I've got to take care off, I guess I’ll see you around y/n" she says, quickly buckling up her belt and stepping into her shoes.

she gives you one last kiss on the lips, savouring the sweet taste from your scented lipgloss before disappearing into the hallway. you look for the red lace underwear that you had thrown into the corner of the room earlier but it was nowhere to be found, you curse yourself deciding to wrap a jumper you found in the closet around your waist to prevent flashing anyone, before swiftly leaving the room.

you make your way downstairs, people screaming and left in a state of disarray , how did you not hear this before……did you miss something ?

a frantic amarie rushes to you, "where were you we were looking for you" she yells, bringing you into a death-crushing hug leaving you confused. "I-i was in the bathroom why what happened" you inquire, pulling away.

"the killer striked again, charlies dead"

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

REQUIEM.

PAIRING — captain hook!bucky barnes x fairy f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot; alternate universe—neverland; inspired by peter pan; fluff; angst; past character deaths.

SUMMARY — A fairy without her wings and a captain without his crew—two misfits manage to find each other in the cruel dark world that is Neverland.

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

The forest is a cold and desolate place at night. During the day, when the sun is shining, Neverland is breathtaking. But that’s part of the trap, you see. 

And once you fall in, you can never leave. 

Peter Pan would never allow it. 

The boy who never grows up floats in the inky sky above you, unmoved by the fact that you’re alone in the forest this late at night, having been cast aside by your own kind. You would almost find him beautiful, flying amongst the stars, a trail of fairy dust trickling behind him, if you didn’t know him for who he really was. 

The only thing that saves you from his sinister motives is, despite your lack of wings, you are still a fairy. Tinker Bell made a pact with him all those centuries ago; she will help him take as many lost children as he wants—but her family, her species, is forever off limits. 

A part of you believes Pan really does love Tink in his own sick and twisted way. It’s why he’s kept his promise thus far, even as his glowing eyes find you on the forest floor. You think you see a flash of sympathy in Tink’s eyes as they fly overhead, and shame, red hot and suffocating, spreads through your veins like wildfire. 

You curl up into a ball in the grass, as small as you can, hoping it will provide some relief from the chill. Despite the painful memories, you remember home. It is never cold in the kingdom of fairies, only ever full of sunshine and blooming flowers. 

As is the norm with your kind, you were supposed to come of age at twenty years old, sprouting wings, finding a mate, and finally taking flight. Instead, you watched year after year as the people you thought were your friends left you behind, their colourful wings sparkling in the golden sunlight. 

You reached twenty-five and your wings are still nowhere to be seen. The taunting soon began; there hadn’t been a wingless fairy in existence in millennia. The children called you a freak, the adults shook their heads in shame. Some of them pitied you, most were disgusted by you. You turned to your parents, hoping they would still love you despite your differences.

You had been wrong.

Your mother, at the very least, tried not to let it show that she was ashamed of you. But perhaps that was worse, knowing that she was trying to love you in spite of it all but couldn’t quite manage it.

Late in the night, you decided to leave the only place you had ever known and loved. You took nothing with you.

Perhaps you would die in the forest, surrounded by plants and flowers, underneath the winking stars. You close your eyes, still shivering, thinking that perhaps it wasn’t the worst way to go.

There are fates so much worse, as you would soon discover.

He had woken you up maybe minutes, maybe hours, after you had fallen asleep. When you opened your eyes, it was still dark. By all logic, you shouldn’t have been able to see his cerulean gaze against the navy blue sky, but there he was.

A human loomed over you, unsmiling and silent. He crouched in the grass next to you, sending you scrambling away as fast as you could. It only took him two strides to reach you again, his palm open and faced up on the dirt right next to you.

When you didn’t move, he gingerly picked you up with two fingers, lifting you all the way to his face as you twisted and struggled. Your tiny little fists did absolutely nothing, no matter how hard you threw them against his skin.

With a yelp, you were unceremoniously tossed into the air before he caught you in his open palm. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped you.

Warmth. He was so warm.

You curled up on the rough calloused skin of his hand, unable to fight the lull of sleep until you woke up again in the morning. This time, you were aboard a ship, bobbing slightly with the gentle waves of the ocean.

The stranger had placed you upon a wooden table in what looked like the captain’s quarters, a handkerchief draped over you as a makeshift blanket. You could see him standing outside the doorway on the quarter deck, telescope stretched out in front of one eye, as he searched over the horizon.

It was only in the morning light that you realized he only had one good arm, that you realized who he was.

In the stories, they called him Captain Hook.

You had heard of him in tales of a villainous pirate that had reached your kingdom long ago. He was said to be cruel, even sadistic; you never thought you would ever meet him, or that he would take you in.

For the first few weeks, he downright refuses to speak to you. But the rules of decorum no longer apply here; after all, he is a pirate and you are no longer amongst the fairies. Unrelenting, you pester him with questions.

Why would he save you if he doesn’t want to be friends? You didn’t have any friends back at home… well, not anymore. You would like to know what true friendship looks like before you die.

How come he leaves the candle lit all night for you, even though it disturbs his sleep? Some nights, after some considerable effort, you blew out the flame just to see what would happen. He would calm, his tossing and turning would cease, as if he were more comfortable in the darkness. Hidden. Obscured. Safe.

Where was everyone else? Is a captain really a captain if he has no crew? There are signs that people have lived here. Markings on the walls, drawings on old bits of parchment hidden haphazardly between the pages of a book, clothes that are either too small or too large or too feminine for him, a hairbrush with long strands of red hair tangled in the bristles.

Unable to fly, you could not venture far from the captain’s cabin. That is, unless you grabbed onto his sleeve as he passed by. He tutted at you in disapproval once he felt your weight on his shoulder, but he silently allowed you to sit there for as long as you liked.

Sometimes you would sing to yourself, old songs your mother used to sing that used to bring you comfort. Sometimes you watched the sun set over the horizon. But today, you played with the chain of a necklace that rested around his neck, hidden underneath the collar of his loose-fitting shirt, tugging at it out of curiosity.

The shift in movement revealed a set of tags with names on them. Steve, Sam, Sharon, Joaquin, Tony, Natasha… but was is the last one that has you reeling in shock, dropping the chain as if it burned your palms.

Peter.

Peter? 

Peter Pan?

The nameless captain reached up to grab you off his shoulder and marched back to his cabin to practically toss you down onto the wooden table. You tumbled out of his grasp, surprised and breathless at his sudden harsh treatment. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when he took out a glass jar and placed it upside down on top of you, rendering you trapped.

You cried for hours until he finally set you free, something akin to shame and guilt in his eyes.

When you didn’t forgive him for days, because he hadn’t even so much as asked for your forgiveness, he took you out of the ship for the first time, out onto the beach where the ship was docked. He placed you gently onto the warm sand, and your anger was washed away with each lick of the waves. You rolled around in the sand, shrieking with laughter as you ran and frolicked, squealed with glee as the water lapped at your feet.

You had never been to the ocean before, you told him. Again, he didn’t speak as he picked up a pretty pink shell and handed it to you. You held it above your head on shaky arms in what you hoped was a display of strength, and you swore you saw the smallest hints of a smile in his chiseled features. You ran around with it held above you, waving it back and forth and relishing at how the air suddenly cooled when you were underneath it.

When he finally took you back to the ship after you grew tired, you insisted he bring the shell with you. You laid down next to it, smiling at the way it sparkled and shone, at how you could still hear the sounds of the ocean as you fell asleep beside it.

You finally found the courage to ask one day. Why did Peter Pan hate him so much, enough to spread such wicked lies about him? He still didn’t answer you, but he didn’t get angry this time. Instead, he looked at you with such sad eyes, you decided not to ask anymore.

His pain was now your own. You lay your head on the fingers of his flesh hand as he grasped the railing, closing your eyes when you felt his knuckle-white grip loosen.

How did he lose his arm? Another touchy subject, but you’d always been a curious little bird. He didn’t seem to mind your questions anymore, but he still did not answer.

It was alright, you told yourself. You’d speak for the both of you. He moved to take his false arm, the one with a hook for a hand, away from you. But you leapt onto it, wrapping your arms around it as best as you can. Your arms didn’t even reach halfway around him, but he gazed down at you in what you believed was shock. You fell asleep there that night, waking up to the sight of his face in front of you, having fallen asleep at the table himself, evidently not wanting to wake you.

Who was Steve? You’d heard the name sometimes in his sleep. It was one of the names on his necklace. It was the name signed onto the drawings that litter the ship. Drawings of flowers, trees, the sunset, the ocean. Drawings of what Neverland could be. And of him, of your captain.

What was his name? It was this question that finally allowed you to hear his voice. As you gazed at him, instead of the evil, instead of the sin you had always heard about in those tales about him, you saw only yourself in his steely blue eyes. You saw your own loneliness and longing reflected back at you, and you knew for certain right then that the tales were untrue.

You never hoped to leave the ship.

You had nowhere else to go, after all.

But the real reason you stayed was because there was warmth there, a kind of warmth you’d never felt, even before you were an outcast.

You prayed you’d never have to.

“James,” he finally answered. His voice melted into your skin, seeped into your veins, and traveled straight to your heart.

Magic eluded you for years. You thought it had forsaken you. You thought it had deemed you unworthy. Turned out, magic came to you in the form of a lonely captain on a deserted ship, himself nothing but a lost soul that Peter Pan could not—or would not—touch.

They called him Captain Hook.

You would only ever call him James.

James would never tell you that finding you on that forest floor was what saved his life. He would later learn what you were, but even without fairy wings you remained the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in Neverland.

For a moment, he thought he had been hallucinating. There was no way a cursed being like him would find a solace like you after centuries of sorrow. It must be a trick. He must have finally lost his mind from grief. You could not be real.

But then you opened your eyes and the rest was history. James knew he needed to protect you then. Although, if he were really being honest with himself, he wasn’t doing it solely for you. The last time he had allowed to care, to love, Pan had taken everything from him. But you were off limits. The boy who never grows up was not allowed to touch you, not unless he wanted to hurt the only person who’d been loyal to him for as long as she had.

It’d been a very long time, and Pan is no longer the Peter that James remembered and loved, but there were still pieces of Peter in there somewhere—the traces of a boy who loved just as fiercely as he desperately wanted to be loved in return. It was why no matter how hard he tried, James could not bring himself to end the tyranny. Because to kill Peter Pan would be to kill the boy he used to be.

It would mean killing Peter Parker, the very last of James’ crew.

And if James had walked away from you that night, then he could bid what remained of the already shattered remnants of his soul goodbye. You were such a tiny little thing, but somehow you already took up more room in his life than anything else had in years.

“Why did you save me if you didn’t want to be friends?” You asked him one day, sitting at the table in his cabin, tiny legs dangling off the edge. You kicked them underneath you innocently, eyes hopeful as you asked the question.

He did want to be friends, but he didn’t remember how.

He didn’t want to be friends, because his heart longed for something more.

“How come you leave the candle lit all night for me, even though it disturbs your sleep?” He thought you might have been cold, but honestly this wasn’t just because of you. He left a candle lit at night even before you ever came along, as sleep had been the one to disturb him. Most nights, it eluded him. But on the rare occasions it did come, it was almost never peaceful.

And perhaps it was his way of atoning, of trying to guide other lost souls away from the darkness.

“Where is everyone else?” They are all dead… except one. Rage flooded into him when you found the tags with the forbidden names engraved on them. It had been a very long time since he’d had to share space with another living being, and sometimes he forgot how delicate you were.

His anger lashed out then and he cruelly trapped you underneath a jar, hating himself for it when he heard your crying and sobbing into the night. Your little hands bang—tinkle—against the glass, begging him to let you out.

You withdrew from him after that.

He wanted to say sorry. He wanted to tell you he’d never do it again. He wanted to promise to cut off his other hand if you didn’t believe him.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t find the words important enough.

So, he took you to the beach, watched as you played and jumped and leapt. The happiness that radiated from you when he gifted you a tiny pink seashell is debilitating. The water splashed at your feet, and when you looked up at him, smiling, it took everything for him not to weep.

When was the last time he found joy—pure unadulterated joy—in Neverland?

He found it in your eyes then. He silently vowed to do everything to keep it there.

“Why does Peter Pan hate you so much?” Hate was perhaps not the right word, because Pan had never taken the chance to kill him either even though he’d had plenty of opportunities.

But Peter was drunk on power and fairy dust, allowed it to turn him into the tyrant he was today, luring the lost and terrified spirits of children under his spell in a misguided and twisted attempt to build some kind of family.

He might sympathize with Pan, if it hadn’t turned him into a bully. And he never liked bullies; neither did the rest of his crew. They fought alongside him, determined to free Neverland and return it to the utopia it once was. They did not succeed.

“How did you lose your arm?” The stories told that it was bitten off by an alligator. But in reality, he’d given it up. Peter wanted to know how badly he wanted his friends back.

I can return them to you, but you can’t have something for nothing.

He should have known better than to make a deal with the devil; he never does give you what you wish for.

I never said I would give them back alive.

“Who is Steve? I hear you say his name sometimes.” This was the name that always hit him hardest. It belonged to his first mate, his best friend, his brother in arms. He was half-surprised when he had to blink away tears, astonished that the grief he had grown so comfortable with still had the power to bring him down under again.

Tiny, stubborn, and hot-headed Steven, who always chose to do the right thing, no matter how hard it would be.

He remembered cradling Steve’s small body in his arms, burying him under the sand along with the rest of his friends. He had kissed them all goodbye, clutching at their limp hands as his lips caressed their foreheads before he walked away, but he would leave a part of his soul with each of them.

“What is your name?” He looked at you then, and centuries of ache compelled him to tell you. It was a gift, one’s own name, and to share it with another person was sacred. It was an act so simple, but it was capable of forging a bond. When you told him yours, he craved it—that connection to another creature he hadn’t had in so long.

“James.”

It was a word he hadn’t spoken in years and it sounded strange on his tongue, like it didn’t even belong to him. But then you repeated it, slowly, one, twice, three times, and he knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.

You called to him that night, sounding happy to be able to do it, to say goodnight to him and follow it with his name.

“Good night, James.”

The fog suddenly lifted. The name that had been so foreign to him suddenly belonged to him again. He remembered James Barnes, the person he used to be, the person he needed to rediscover.

He remembers the person he must remain. 

fin.

AFTERWORD — i’ve always thought about writing a sequel or rewriting this as a miniseries, and i’ll never say never when it comes to this story, but i’ve yet to be struck with any kind of inspiration that could possibly do this fic justice. maybe one day? who knows.

© 2024 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please please Shanks or Law taking care of sick!reader

Ouuuu I always wanted to do headcanons based on sick!reader!

Law and Shanks Taking Care of You When You're Sick

GN!Reader x Trafalgar Law and GN!Reader x Akagami no Shanks (pre-established relationship)

SFW!

Your immune system is usually strong, so you usually don't get sick

But one day, you suddenly fell ill, like super SUPER ill and you're bedridden

But you don't let the others find out, and everyone thinks that you're sleeping.

But once the crew finds out you're down with a sickness for the first time they freak out and tell their captains.

Trafalgar Law

Once he's alerted that you're down with illness, he heads straight to your room

He's pissed that you didn't say anything to him but he couldn't stay mad once he saw how sick you really were

He's a doctor so of course he knows what to do! He comes back to your room with a blood pressure monitor, thermometer, and an IV

Yeah he kind of goes overboard

But I think he would have an innate fear of his loved one getting sick or ill because of what happened to his family and friends with the White Lead disease and it triggers him

So he does everything under his power to make sure you're okay

"Hold still I'm trying to take your blood pressure"

"Law, this is fourth time you've done this in the last hour"

He would make sure that you're well fed with hot soup

Makes sure that you're taking your medication even though they taste terrible

"I don't want to take it"

"(Y/n)-ya, I will literally cut you in half and place that pill directly in your stomach so help me God"

He would refuse to leave your side and will sleep on a chair next to you

Will make sure that you're hydrated

Expect a 2-litre jug of water in your room and he will make you finish one a day until you better or else he threatens to hook you up to an IV

"How many times did you pee today? If you pee a lot it means you drank a lot of water which will help you recover"

"Uh I didn't go yet"

"You have 1 minute to drink 1 litre of water or else I'm hooking you up to this IV right now"

Once you're better he will force you to do checkups with him every month from now on

"I hate the infirmary I refuse to do monthly checkups. Also, isn't supposed to be annual?"

"I don't trust your immune system anymore"

He may be overbearing and too much but that's because he loves you very much and hates to see you sick <3

Akagami no Shanks

The man beelines it to your room as soon as Benn alerts him that you're down with an illness

He starts freaking out because he thinks you're dying because you've never been sick before until now

"Omg please don't die yet we have to get married first"

"Shanks, darling, I just have a flu"

Y'all know that scene where Luffy tries to make Nami feel better on Drum Island when she was sick and he makes a silly face

Yeah, Shanks does the same thing

His face is scribbled with blank ink and his hair is tied up into two ponytails as he tries to make you laugh. Hongo walks in on him and accidentally stabs Shanks with one of his needles in shock

While Hongo does the actual healing since he's the doctor, Shanks tries his best to assist him even though he was no help

"Captain can you not use my stethoscope on their asscheeks please"

"Sorry I was trying to see if I could hear their heartbeat from there"

Shanks would try to cook soup for you but for some reason it tasted like beer

"Is it delicious? I tried to make soup for you so you'd feel better!"

"Why does it taste like beer? And is that a dead fly?"

While you're sleeping, he'd put cold damp towels on your forehead and change them every hour on the dot

Shanks will also refuse to leave your side as well. He will be glued next to you until you got better

He'd give lots of forehead kisses and will cuddle with you, much to your dismay

"Honey, it's getting too hot"

"I know, it's cause I'm here"

"No you loveable idiot you're hugging me too tight, let me go before I cough on your face"

Once you're fully recovered the man is stuck to you like velcro and smothers you with his love and kisses

"Shanks stop it you're going to make me sick with all of your germs!"

"Then let's both get sick!"

He may be clueless but he does his best to take care of you because he loves you <3

------

LOL this was fun to write

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price is hurting. Nikolai drops everything to be there for him.

CW: aftermath of torture, vulnerable John Price, somewhat tough love Nikolai. They're in love, your honour.

Price needs you.

The lieutenant had always been a man of few words and so he used them wisely. He knew those three alone would make Nikolai drop whatever he was doing, wherever he was in the world, and move heaven and earth to reach the captain's side. His reply had been brief:

Where?

The next text contained the address. Landstuhl. An American-run Level 2 trauma centre, perhaps the biggest outside America itself. Within the hour, Nik had filed his flight plan and was on his way to Germany, stopping briefly to grab some supplies from a local corner shop on his way to the airfield. His final message to Lieutenant Riley had been his ETA.

As he flew over the base, he watched groundsmen scurry around on the tarmac to guide him down. They were expecting him. He left his Heli in their capable hands and hopped into the back of the jeep waiting to take him straight to the hospital.

A familiar mask greeted him at the entrance and the lieutenant filled him in as they walked the corridors. "There was a mole that leaked just enough intel to set an ambush for us. He dropped a building on his own head to cover our escape. Presumed K.I.A," Ghost paused as a trolley rattled past them, the patient hooked up with IVs and tubes, the nurses exchanging hurried updates. Nik felt numb in the silence, selfishly relieved that he had been spared those few days of mourning. "A few days later Laswell picked up chatter that they had a British soldier in captivity. Hoping to get intel out of him, but he was putting up a fight. They couldn't break him with usual methods."

Nik couldn't help but smile ruefully at that. He had been captured with John only once, back when he had first turned for NATO. The scars from that encounter spidered over John's lower back and hip like lightning. Nik kissed them every time they made love; a reminder of just how much they had survived. "How long?"

"Three days with them before we knew, two days to get us in there and him out. It was enough time." They stepped into a lift and it carried them up to intensive care. It ground to a halt with a soft groan, doors sliding open to reveal bleached white halls and a reception desk. "He's in bad shape. They hurt him, in more ways 'n we can see."

They drew to a stop three doors down the corridor and Nik peered through the glass into the dimly lit room to John's prone form, before grabbing the clipboard tucked into a plastic sleeve to the right of the windowpane.

Two bulging disks, dislocated shoulder, four fingers broken on the left hand, fracture in the left tibia and fibula, broken ribs, missing lower left first and second molars, lacerations and stab wounds to the torso...

"He must be in agony," Nik said, his voice thick in his throat. The end of the list made him feel sick with anger and sadness, and he reread it twice more through the mist in his eyes. The risks were part of the job. The world they inhabited, the path they walked, it was a cruel one full of pain and danger. It could snuff them out at any moment. Knowing that, understanding it, didn't make this list any easier to digest.

"He won't take the pain killers," Ghost murmured, his eyes not on Nik, but studying his captain through the hatched window. "They hooked him up with a button so they don't need t' keep offerin' only for him to tell them to piss off, but he won't press it."

Nik looked up into the intense stare Ghost levelled on him. None of the 141 could, or would, go against John's wishes. He had ordered them to run in whichever hellhole they had been operating and they had, despite every part of them revolting against the idea of leaving him to die. Now they fought the same battle with his orders to leave him to fester in his own pain, except this time Ghost could call in back up.

Nik could see the exhaustion in Ghost's eyes, red and watery, and pictured him pacing up and down this corridor like a caged animal as he had waited for Nik to arrive. All his training didn't prepare him for this; the anxious waiting in the aftermath, powerless to help or do anything but watch his captain suffer. Nik slid the clipboard back into place. "Get some rest, lieutenant. I will take this watch."

Ghost nodded and turned back towards the lift. Before he walked away, he glanced one last time into John's room, as if to assure himself his captain was still there. Still breathing. Nik hefted his overnight bag higher up his shoulder and walked through the door.

One of the machines was beeping, reading John's heightened heart rate and each panting breath that rattled from his chest. Nik nudged the window open, letting in the cool spring air, and dumped his bag and jacket on the nearby chair.

"Hallo, solnyshko," Nik said softly as he stepped up to the bed, his palm smoothing John's damp hair from his face.

John looked up, bright blue eyes swimming with pain, and still managed a faint smile at the sight of his favourite Russian looming over him. "Nik, when'd'ya arrive?"

"I landed ten minutes ago. I came when they said you had been hurt."

"Not... in great shape, it'll..." John squeezed his eyes shut, face creasing in a deep grimace, as one of the machines woke in a flurry of beeps before quietening again.

"The lieutenant said you are refusing treatment." Nik continued to gently pet John's hair, but studied the rest of him, like Ghost he needed to drink in the sight of a living John Price, even one battered, bruised and hurting.

The medics had shaved patches off his chest to stick the monitors to his skin, the blankets pooled down to his waist, revealing heavy bandages with dark bruises colouring anything they didn't cover. Nik saw the button Ghost had mentioned on the bed near John's right hand, and carefully gathered it into John's fingers.

John huffed. "Don't... It... It makes my head go, I can't..." Another soft pant, another grimace.

"You need to rest, John. You need to sleep."

"N-no, Nik... Nik..." John's voice cracked around Nik's name the second time as Nik gently squeezed his fingers against the button. He tried to pull his hand away, but Nik's grip was firm, unyielding despite its tenderness. John looked panicked, frightened, as the medication curled through his body and began to take effect. Nik could imagine how he had warded the others off with anger and waspish dismissal, but now he writhed and twitched helplessly, pleading. "Please, mmph... Nik, n--"

"It's okay, it's okay, I am here, ssshh, it's okay, forgive me," Nik whispered gently, still stroking John's hair as blue eyes became unfocused, blinking slower with each passing second despite desperately trying to stay open. "That's it," Nik wiped a tear from John's cheek as it slid free, and then leaned down to kiss his forehead, whispering against damp skin, "sleep, beloved. I will be here. You will not be alone, I promise."

John's eyes blinked for the last time and stayed closed, his body, pulled taut briefly in panic, now relaxed, his head tilting into Nik's palm. His resistance had kept him alive through the interrogation and subsequent imprisonment, and letting it go felt too much like surrender for a man as obstinate as John Price. Even when all that was left to fight were the shadows in his head. Perhaps he was scared of them most of all.

The machines calmed after their flurry of activity, the beeps silencing now that they weren't alerting anyone to a potential problem. Nik stood there for some time once he had released John's hand, still stroking his head, even when he leaned down to kiss him. He kissed John's face, his chest, his jaw, tender to avoid aggravating the cuts and bruises marring his skin, but lingering each time to feel the warmth beneath his lips, to smell the deep scent of him; living, breathing. John.

Once he was certain of John's comfort, Nik dragged the chair over to sit close to his side, enveloping John's fingers, occasionally lifting them to his lips for a kiss before returning them to the soft blanket.

The recovery for this one was likely to be long, and John was stubborn. Stubborn in his demand for control, stubborn in his refusal of help. It was a toxic coping strategy born from necessity and trauma. Unhelpful at best, self destructive at worst.

Sometimes John needed tough love and there were few people in the world willing to administer it to him, or able to push through the abrasive defences he put up to ward them off. Ghost had called Nik because he knew he was the man for the job; he would stay until the bitter end, refusing to abandon John no matter how loud he brayed or how viciously he snarled.

Nik closed his eyes as he brought John's hand to his lips once more, drawing in a stuttering breath as he took a moment in the quiet to come to terms with just how close he'd come to losing him forever.