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#Not too late! Reminder that you can request up to the end of the month or until all the slots are filled up! :D
sysig · 2 years
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Idk if it's too late to get a request in, but I'd love to see a Light Entertainment piece for requestober (Magnus/RGB's ship from TPoH). Or, alternately, TOby just Being Himself because he's just a cute little grump and I enjoy it greatly.
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Day 9 - Clink clink ♥
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vikkirosko · 6 months
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The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?
I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?
Headcanons CIP
🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖
You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all
Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you
Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it
Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little
📻 Alastor x Reader🎙
Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain
Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes
The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself
Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it
💀Rosie x Reader 🌹
You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried
Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts
You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful
Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍
Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you
Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened
Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die
You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it
🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕
In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to
They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds
When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried
Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul
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bakugoushotwife · 5 months
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blessing and curse
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summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here
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yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 
he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 
the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 
you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.
there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 
you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 
“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 
“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 
“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 
oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 
“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 
you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 
you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 
“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 
“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 
soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 
the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 
“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…
now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.
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monzamash · 3 months
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to be loved — carlos sainz
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carlos sainz x you — “i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.” requested by @dancininseptember masterlist
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The short stroll from your office to the apartment never really bothered you. In fact, you typically enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to enjoy the city you loved. But it was early February; rain was threatening the Spanish skies and the frost bitten breeze stung your already tear-filled eyes. It was a crappy end to an even shittier week, your energy wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.
You practically flung yourself through the door of the apartment and shed all remnants of the day – coat, beanie and scarf, all strewn haphazardly, and in that order, on the floor of your small entryway. It took every ounce of energy you had to kick off your heavy boots, each one hitting the wall much harder than you intended. Maybe it was an unconscious way for you to let out frustration, the scuff marks on the white wall a stark reminder of your last straw.
The smell of fresh bread and bolognese sauce hit you as you slunk down the hallway, your tummy grumbling on instinct. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, a terrible habit you had fallen into lately and Carlos had noticed. He was home more during the cooler months, easily picking up on your little habits that both endeared and worried him. So he made sure, while he was close to you, that you came home to a warm meal every night – because looking after you was his calling in life.
“That smells incredible.”
Carlos briefly glanced over his shoulder and gave you a bright smile before turning down the stove and grabbing a washcloth to clean his hands. You loved him like this; soft and relaxed, in his element. The kitchen was his playground and you remember the sigh of relief that left your lungs when he told you he loved to cook on your first date, because you weren’t particularly gifted when it came to the pots and pans.
“Hope you’re hungry,” He sang, circling the island in the middle of the kitchen to say a proper hello to his beautiful girlfriend, “How was your day?”
A rigid sigh fell from your lips as you fell into his arms, the loving embrace triggering tears to spring to your eyes for the third time today. Carlos held you tight and brushed his hands down your back, comforting you through the sobs wracking your aching body.
“Ay, mi amor,” He soothed, “Breathe for me please.”
Carlos guided you through a couple of deep breaths, chests rising and falling together in synchronicity until your sobs subsided, air finally filling your lungs again. A tight squeeze around your waist brought you back to the man holding you in his arms, worried eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay as you pulled back and gave him a soft smile.
“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” You sniffled, head shaking.
Carlos tutted as he thumbed away the trail of tears from your face, “Do not say sorry, my love. Talk to me…”
Anger replaced sadness as you told him about how your sister had completely disregarded your feelings for the millionth time, accusing you of only caring about yourself while she’s all alone and stressed about wedding planning. Carlos has managed to get you to sit up on the counter beside him while he finished dinner, but not before pouring you a glass of red wine to nurse while you purged all the negativity from your day.
“She called me a bitch and then uninvited us from the wedding, which by the way I didn’t want to go too to begin with,” You huffed, hands animatedly flying around while he tried to keep up with the drama.
“And all I said to her was that work has been stressful and that us trying for a baby hadn’t been… fruitful, I guess. She flipped out when I said that because her dickhead fiancé doesn’t want kids and she thinks she can change his mind…”
You took a sip of wine and noticed Carlos' eyes rolling like they always did when the topic of your sister came up. He was as sick of her shit as you were, unapologetically scoffing at her selfishness. Making you feel bad when all you needed was someone to confide in was one thing, but lashing out on you was something he couldn’t stand by and watch. He knew he couldn’t do anything right now; maybe he would make a stern phone call tomorrow once the dust had settled.
So instead of getting upset, he put down the wooden spoon coated in the most delicious sauce you had ever tasted and nestled himself between your swinging legs. His warm chocolate eyes stared into your soul as he planted his palms on your thighs, tethering himself to you.
“You know I can take care of you, mi vida,” He said, voice deep and barely above a whisper, “No matter the problem, you won't need anyone but me, I promise.” 
For the first time in weeks, you felt your heart slow down and return to a normal rhythm as Carlos pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You softly moaned in unison and gripped the grey shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders, pulling him in closer – not that he had any plan on going anywhere.
No, all he wanted was for his girl to feel heard and to be loved because all he needed was you.
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a/n — loved writing carlos again. inbox detox is still open !!
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kquil · 3 months
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JAMES POTTER | NO MORE HOCKEY PLAYERS!
REQUEST. : I think this might be too vague but can I request IceHockey!James x Reader angst with fluffy ending. I'm acc in love with the way you write him 🤍🤍 ⏤requested by anon
LENGTH : 1.9k
TAGS : modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james potter ; enemies to lovers? but not really? ; enemies by association to lovers? ; protective james potter ; precious reader ; oc!andrew ; reader in a bad relationship ; james being the knight in shining hockey gear ; angst with fluff ending
WARNINGS : toxic relationship ; mentions of mistreatment in a relationship
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You knew what was coming. It was something you were used to seeing, to dealing with in the two years you’ve been dating Andrew. As captain of the Ice Hockey team at Imperial College London and playing the Right-Wing Forward position, he was oftentimes compared to his more prominent, more celebrated counterpart, James Potter. 
James Potter was the Ice Hockey captain of his team at UCL and also played the Right-Wing Forward position. Through this similarity, they were often compared and Andrew was beyond irritated by the fact. Irritated and fed up. James never appeared to mind the comparisons, however. In fact, he took it in stride because, in his eyes, the results of a fair game will put the constant equating to rest. 
Andrew was passionate about the sport, he really was, his position as Captain was evidence of that dedication, however the constant comparisons in his ear made him highly aggressive on top of his already present anger issues. It wasn’t like this in the beginning, he was once very sweet and caring towards you, aware of your needs and was as much of a best friend as he was your boyfriend. Yes, you weren’t exempt from the occasional disagreement or shouting competition but it’s been so much worse as of late. 
Just a couple of months ago, he lost a game to James’ team and finally snapped to the point that he managed to make the usually grinning and charming James Potter flush red with anger and commenced a screaming match that inaugurated an infamous rivalry between the two. That one win against him was also the tipping point for all the whispers comparing the two to sharply peak in favour of James. Now, there was always an undertone of James being viewed as the better one of the two. More charismatic, more diligent, more empathetic, more resilient, more consistent, more respectable… more handsome. All of which fanned the flames of your boyfriend’s anger until it reached dangerous levels. 
The matches against them were, now, much more exhilarating but also much more aggressive. It frightened you the first time you saw them play against each other after that horrific encounter the previous game. This wasn’t a good display of sportsmanship. They were like two lions going after each other’s throats, pushing and shoving and colliding at top speeds, baring their teeth menacingly but neither side conceding defeat – they refused to surrender; one had to fall for the other to rise. It was horrifying to witness. You worried for Andrew but you also worried for James. They were both equal in brawn and stature so anything could happen to either side and they weren’t the least bit shy in making their belligerent intentions known. Bruises and sore limbs were expected from the sport but you feared that something more serious could be anticipated in the conflict between the two. 
Your heart was almost ready to burst out of your chest when each game began and ended. It didn’t help that you were a frequent witness to Andrew’s harsh criticism towards his own team. Due to his frustrations and boiling anger, he demanded more of himself and, by extension, demanded more of his teammates as well. Many times, you tried to remind him of the fact that he wasn’t going about disciplining or encouraging his team in the right way. A familiar confrontation once became a huge fight that his teammates had to get in the middle of, worried for you, who they had come to think of as part of their own and, vice versa. Gradually, his support from the team dwindled, which meant that, during his combative encounters with James in the rink, he was slowly being left on his own with no one to assist him. He was playing at a higher risk each game and it hurt you to watch. Your love might have dwindled during Andrew’s self-destructive tirade but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for his well-being. 
The result was inevitable. Owing to the lack of support from his own teammates and having to counter James’ antagonistic plays by himself, Andrew’s anger and jealousy grew and grew. It was a slap to the face when, at every re-match, his self-sabotaging behaviour led to James and his team’s victory. It was predictable, even for you, but you supported Andrew through it all. 
At the end of the match, Andrew sulked in the locker rooms while the rest of the team hurried away, disgruntled by their captain’s pathetic plays, selfish agenda and mistreatment towards them when pinning all the blame for their loss solely on their lack of collaboration when, truly, he was the only one to blame.
“It’ll be okay, Andy–” 
“Shut up!” his roaring shout bounced off the walls of the empty locker room. His voice echoed with mourning, betrayal and burning hot rage. It made your shoulders tense from the rising tension. 
“Andrew, the way you’re acting i-it isn’t right–!” you tried to reason with him despite his hulking form and much larger frame intimidating you. He didn’t even have to look into your eyes for a shiver to run down your spine; the slamming of his locker door, the throwing of his clothes and the reckless handling of his equipment was enough to make you flinch each time. 
“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT’S RIGHT OR WRONG!” he argues through clenched teeth, pushing the locker room doors open and letting it swing back, almost hitting you as you scurry up behind him. 
“Well, you should, at least, try!” In a moment of bravery, you puff out your chest and glare at him, your eyes shining with thinly disguised disappointment and fear. He wasn’t like the Andrew you knew at all… this horrible, violent person was nothing like the Andrew you fell in love with two years ago, “I know you can be a great captain but you’re running yourself and your own team into the ground! Learn to put your ego aside for once!” 
“WHY YOU!-- WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LECTURE ME?!” his large hand raises and comes swinging down. It’s too late to react, you can only pinch your eyes closed and wait for the impact to come with clenched teeth. 
“WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO HIT HER?!” 
The hit never came. Instead, your eyes snap open to stare in shock at James Potter gripping the wrist of your boyfriend and pushing him away as he tucks you behind him. Too shocked at the situation and the sudden appearance of your boyfriend’s counterpart, you can’t help but just gape at the situation. 
No no no! This isn’t meant to happen! You should have left the argument in the locker room! 
“She’s my girlfriend! Dipshit!” Andrew snarls and tries to reach for you again but James steps in the way, blocking your view. He’s a solid mountain between you and your irate boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. 
“That gives you even less of a right, not that you had any right to hit anyone to begin with,” James pants lightly, his heightened anger making him feel as though he’s run a mile, “If she’s your girl, you should treat her better! Acting like this after a loss is pathetic but pinning it onto your lady is disgusting!” James can handle rough play on the rink because he’s trained for it and he’s grown the thick skin to endure all kinds of impacts. But, when he sees violence like this outside the rink, it’s beyond infuriating, it makes him see red, it makes him want to throw all manner of good will out the window and go charging in like a stubborn bull.
“Fuck! Off!” Andrew shoves him away and grabs your upper arm, tugging you away without any regard for the force in his grip. It happened much too quickly that you couldn’t comprehend everything until you felt a stinging pain bloom in your arm under his grip. 
“Ow!… Andrew, stop, please! You’re hurting me!”
“I don’t care! Hurry! Up!” he gives another aggressive tug and you squeal from the pain, willing yourself to suppress it so as to not anger him further. But your cry of hurt was enough to set off an unbelievable chain reaction.
There was a dull but harsh THUMP as James’ clenched fist collides with Andrew’s face, sending him sprawling as two gentle hands come up to your shoulders and gently pull you away from the scene. Those same two hands turn you around and carefully move down to press against your lower back, acting as a guide to lead you a safe distance away. The girl introduces herself as Alice, the girlfriend of Frank, who was the goalie of the UCL team. She leads you with a sympathetic smile past the rest of the James’ teammates, who face forward and grit their teeth at what they were just the witnesses to, some even stepping forward. Whether they wanted to join in or not, you didn’t find out but one was tall with mousy brown hair and the other had dark black hair against pale paper skin and grey eyes – the left defence and the centre of the UCL team. 
“You’re okay…” Alice whispers softly, hurrying you along as the sound of punches begin to echo through the hallway, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” 
As tears slip past your lash line, a shaky whimper escapes your bitten lips and you accept her comfort with a small nod.
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Suffice to say, you and Andrew broke up. And for good reason. Many people couldn’t even fathom that someone as soft-hearted and sweet as you would ever give someone like Andrew the time of day when you deserved so much more. What they don’t understand is that he was never like that when you first met… but, you suppose, he finally showed his true colours. But thanks to that, you’ve sworn off dating hockey players ever again! 
“Oh!” a happy acknowledgement sounds and draws your eyes up to see a handsome, boyish grin beaming down at you, “It’s you!” His freshly washed locks drip with water and he moves to close the locker room door behind him when his words bring the attention of curious eyes from the rest of his team, all peaking a glimpse of you around his frame.
“Yeah…” you smile softly, nerves shaking anxiously as your hands clasp together for some stability, “sorry for suddenly showing up,”
“It’s alright,” James’ beaming smile doesn’t fade the slightest bit as his eyes shine with relief, “I’m just glad you’re looking okay,”
“Yeah, all thanks to you,” the compliment makes him flush bashfully as a large hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. For a guy with a bear-like frame, he pulls off the adorable puppy look pretty well.
“Did you watch the game?” he hurries to change the topic and instead of answering, you hold up a cutely wrapped batch of homemade cookies. Andrew was once the only person who had exclusive access to your home baked goodies but he lost that privilege a long time ago. It’s time to associate your baking with something (someone) more positive and deserving. 
“Wow! Thanks!” James eyes your offer with wide eyes and was already drooling from the sugary scent in the air, seducing him into taking it and having a bite. You smile at his moans of gratification and allow his free flowing compliments to boost your confidence, “will you be coming to our next game?” he suddenly asks, catching you off guard. 
“Uhh..--”
“Please come,” his eyes plead with you but when you don’t answer, he bargains, “I’ll win it for you,” 
No more hockey players be damned.
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A/N : i love writing hockey player james potter too~ he's just so dreamy! ahhhhh! it's probably one of my favourite aus of james potter! (,,o // o,,) thank you so much for the request, anon-darling! im so sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy the read!
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munsonsreputation · 4 months
Text
i'm falling in love, again
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [6.7K]
warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.
summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.
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“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.
You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.
“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.
Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.
You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.
It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.
“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.
He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.
“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.
His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.
“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”
The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.
He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.
Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and “run into you” by coincidence.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.
“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.
“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.
Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.
You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”
Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.
“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”
He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”
Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.
“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.
It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.
“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.
You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.
“Is he not funny?” He tried again.
You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.
He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.
“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.
Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.
“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.
He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.
“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.
You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.
“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.
Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.
“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.
You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.
“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.
You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.
“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.
“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.
You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.
“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.
The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.
Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.
You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.
You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.
“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.
Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.
“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.
Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”
“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.
“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.
“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.
A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.
“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”
You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.
Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.
A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.
“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”
Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.
You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.
It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.
But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.
He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.
He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.
He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.
He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.
He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.
That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.
But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.
He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.
“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.
He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.
“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.
But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.
“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.
You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.
“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”
Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.
Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.
It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.
The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.
He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.
You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.
“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.
But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.
“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”
The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.
It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.
You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.
“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.
You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.
“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.
Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.
“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.
You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.
He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”
“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.
“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”
He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”
“I wish that day would come sooner.”
“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”
“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.
“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.
“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.
“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.
“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.
You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.
“I’m following your lead, babe.”
Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.
He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.
It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.
He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.
“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”
You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.
“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.
Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.
“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”
You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”
“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.
“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.
“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.
“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.
“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.
You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”
“Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.
“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”
You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.
“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.
He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.
“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.
Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.
“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.
“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.
Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.
Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.
“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.
Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.
“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”
His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.
“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.
“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.
You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.
“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.
He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.
“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.
Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.
“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”
He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.
Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”
“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.
He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.
“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”
Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?
“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.
You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.
“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.
“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.
He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”
Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.
Break up, break free, break through, break down.
“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.
He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”
You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.
“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.
Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.
He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.
“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”
Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.
You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.
“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”
Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.
“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.
“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.
You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.
“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”
It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.
And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.
Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.
“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”
You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”
“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.
Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.
His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again.
Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again
You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.
Oh, I’m falling in love
Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.
“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.
“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.
You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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ccraccz · 19 days
Note
Hello! I'm a new follower of yours~ I may not know how much are you in the manga, so this might be a lil spoiler for you (sorry). Suo actually knows the language of flowers! Maybe this could be a req of him courting fem!reader owo
Have a nice day!
SO CUTTEE!! THANK YOU FOR BOTH THE FOLLOW AND THE REQUEST!!
Flowers for you
Suo x Fem!Reader
TW: assault, reader being used as a hostage, implied bullying? (PLease tell me if I missed a TW!!)
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The first time it happens is on a random Monday. A bouquet of different colored camelias being given to you by Suo, a sly smile and unearthly attractive smile on his face as he hands them over. His uncovered eye squinting as he watches you blush at the situation.
"For you, my lady," he says, confirming the main question that was swimming in your brain.
"But... Why?" You ask, genuinely wondering about the reason of the sudden gift. Suo chuckles as you grab the flowers in your hands and hold them closer. "Well..." He starts, turning to walk beside you, hands behind his back as usual, he looks at forward, ignoring your eyes that were intensely looking at him. "They reminded me of you, and there was a special on them, so I decided to try and make your day start in a good way."
That was a lie. Well, part of it was a lie. The beautiful, multicolored camelias did remind him of you, but the bouquet was going to be a lot more expensive if he wasn't recognized by the flower shop owner for saving his daughter from some perverted gang members. Not only was the bouquet free as a payback for saving his daughter, but as a thanks for helping around the town.
"Well then..." You pout, looking away as you arrive at the bridge that connects you to the gates of your school. You genuinely didn't want to leave him there, but you had cleaning duty to go to and if you're one minute late, your class would chew you up, especially now that you had a bouquet of flowers in your hands.
That day you started your day with a smile, and ended it with that same smile.
Suo was right, these flowers did make your day start, and stay, a good way.
The second time was the day after he, and his group, fought a group of drunken, old, perverts decided to take you and your girlfriends from your class as hostages. The glare that Suo sported that day before he quickly beat up the guys that were between him and the guy holding you was still burned into the front of your memories.
His eye seemed to glow under the street lights of the town, movements swifter than a cat but stronger than a bear. The drunken man holding you faltered at the sight of his men being beaten down, quickly seeing the disadvantage he's at. Due to that, he quickly pushes you away, having you land harshly on the ground and enraging Suo further.
After the fight, Suo was silent, too silent for your comfort as he walked you home. His arms weren't behind him, now one was wrapped around your waist and the other in his pocket.
The day after, there were flowers on your door step. Another bouquet and a plush of a fluffy puppy holding it.
The flowers were in a beautiful arrangement of white gardenias, daffodils, primrose primulas, and white heather flowers, a red ribbon tied around the bottom of the stems to keep them together. Under the plush, there is a note from Suo.
His hand writing is gorgeous, letters smooth and readable, sentences arranged in such grace it was shocking to think that this was written by a teenager in a delinquent school.
The letter said: Dear [Name],
I hope this letter finds you well and recovered from what happened yesterday night. I can only imagine how hollow you might feel...
And the rest was history, as tears bubbled up in your eyes and dribbled down your cheeks, the flowers tight in your embrace as your tears soaked into the paper and the top of the plush.
The third and last time was at the end of the day, two months after the incident, and a week before your birthday. You had been talking to some girls, who were gushing and blushing about their crushes while you stayed quiet. Walking out of the school and over the bridge, you see him.
Suo was standing at the other end of the bridge, another bouquet in his hand, a small gift box in his other hand. You paused as the girls beside you start fawning over Suo, talking about how attractive he is, and wondering who those flowers were for, and what about that box?
You were internally sweating, starting to walk behind the girls again, who were giggling and bumping into each other before you.
"So?" One of the prettier girls walks forward, having the guts to confront the delinquent. "Is that for me?" she asks, bottom lip bitten seductively.
Suo smiles at her, "Definitely..." He pauses and looks around the group. "Not," his smile drops before he walks forward and breaks apart the group, until he was in front of you.
"[Name]?" Suo smiles, eye closing with a light blush on his face.
He looked ethereal, better than any mythical, historical, or fictional character you've ever seen in your life. The sun was the perfect shade, hitting his face in every attractive way it could.
"I'm here to give you these," He speaks, his voice soft and nearly musical. He holds out the flowers towards you to take as your cheeks flush a beautiful pink as the situation registers in your mind.
"For me?" You whisper in shock.
"Yes," He nods "for you gorgeous."
In her hands was a large bouquet, filled with white gardenias, red roses, white camelias, baby's breath, and a multitude of gloxinias. "Those white gardenias represent your purity and how lovely you are, the roses represent my love for you, the white camelias describe how adorable and perfect you are, the baby's breath are a symbol of-"
You cut him off, putting the flowers into one arm as you grab him by the cheek and slot your lips onto his.
The show of affection makes the girls around swear and leave, while, somewhere in the bushes, there is a sensor going off, smoking even.
That wasn't the last time he brought you flowers, and it definitely was not the last time he described them, since every time he did, it would lead to something more.
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midnightorchids · 2 months
Note
hey babe- I sucks so much that your sick and stressed. Maybe some soft Jason HCs will help. - Jason will highlight and annotate lines or passages in his book that remind him of you. He will say them to you late at night when both of you are tucked away in bed to make it seem like he made it up himself. You know he's lying since you have read all of his books but you indulge him. That adorable proud smirk on his face is too kissable not too. - Both of you have scheduled reading dates once a month where you'll spend most of the day just reading on the couch. Your head in his lap or his head in yours. You spend supper that night talking about your separate books. - He loves it when you slightly tug on his hair or gently scratch his skin (non-sexually). It's like a reminder to him that he didn't make you up and that he can still feel you so closely. He's dead asleep as soon as his head connects with your chest and your hands tangle in his thick black hair. He'll smile and giggle like a little kid as you kiss the white tuft of hair tangled over his forehead. - If your a hero/vigilante yourself, he coordinates his patrol times so that you'll start patrol together. He only takes his mask off during patrol time when he's with you on a secluded roof-top or warehouse. The first thing he always asks is 'you ok hun? anything happen?' - After patrol, he's always antsy to pamper you first. He helps you out of ur uniform, sweeping you up into his arms to be placed in the bath. The warm water, scented at your request, settles your nerves, the tension leaving your muscles as Jason starts washing down your shoulders and chest. He settles behind you, your body trapped against his. His legs on either side of you and his thick arms holding you tightly against his chest. His chin usually rests on the top of your head as you ramble about your evening. He'll press soft sweet kisses under your ear and along the curve of your neck, making you giggle. - He'll help you step out of the bath and wrap you tightly in a towel, giving you one of his shirts to change into as he finds his sweatpants. You fall asleep on top of him, nestling into the safety of his arms. Both of you are cozy and extremely sappy. But it's just a fraction of the love that he pours into you and your relationship. Jason falls asleep smiling, knowing that he has the most important person in his life wrapped up and safe tangled in his arms.
You don’t understand, this genuinely just made my whole day, week even!! Thank you!!! These are the sweetest headcanons ever, I would die for soft Jason.
I had the stupidest grin on my face reading the first one, he’s such a loser, but in the best way possible.
And because of that, I’d also like to add on to that one…!
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You know when a song comes on that you know really well and you just can’t help but sing along? I think there would be a time in your relationship where he’d recite you a verse from his favourite poem, acting all high and mighty like this is his own work. You’ll look at him with a small smile on your face, trying to hold yourself back from reciting along with him, but you can’t help it!! Once you start, he’ll stop and get this really cute, sheepish smile, knowing that he’s been caught.
You’ll both let out a giggle and to tease him further, you’ll tell him he’s an amazing writer and that you’re a big fan of his works. This will end in one of two ways, he’ll tackle you and smother you with kisses or he’ll tickle you until you’re both a laughing mess. Either way, this doesn’t stop him from reading out his favourite lines to you and pretending like they’re his own.
The scheduled reading dates one also has me on such a chokehold. I want to be bundled up in a cosy sweater with big blanket and have him lay his head on my lap, while I play with his hair and read to him (I suck at reading out loud, he’d probably make fun of me LMAO).
I also want him to tell me about the books he’s reading, his eyes wide, full of life and beaming with passion.
This is when he looks the prettiest. He’s so excited, he’s waving his hands around gesturing to things, pacing around the room, trying to explain this crucial point in his story to you. You can’t help but stare at him in awe, he’s just so so pretty like this.
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🌈CM Pride Challenge🏳️‍⚧️
Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of May AND June, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including LGBTQA+ PRIDE using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.
There are a LOT of prompts below the cut, so keep going!
(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)
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General Prompts 🏳️‍🌈
Coming out is so much harder the second time
Describe Character’s first kiss with the same gender
Describe Character(s) spending a day at a Pride parade
The team realizes that A&B were more than roommates
Penelope goes a little overboard on rainbow decorations at Characters’ wedding
Character's marriage mutually comes to an end when they come out... now what?
Character comes out at the same time they announce their new relationship to the team
Character A fears it’s too late for them to live authentically, and B assures them that’s not true
Character A gifts B something colored like their pride flag because “the colors reminded me of you”
Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it
Queer characters have a hard time deciding what their child should call them and come up with fun ideas
Character A goes to a LGBT bar with B as a wingperson (or maybe they want them, themselves?)
Anything else you can think of!
More prompts (transgender, assorted, dialogue) below!
Transgender Prompts 🏳️‍⚧️
Character A helps B get their first tailored dress/suit
Character A helps B shave and/or put on makeup
The couple is looking for gender neutral nicknames
Character A buys B specialty gender affirming lingerie
Character is casually referred to with an appropriately gendered nickname for the first time
Characters are renewing their vows and redoing their wedding photos following a coming out
Character A walks in on B wearing a new gender-affirming outfit and surprises them with an enthusiastic compliment
The team throws Character an impromptu first birthday party following their coming out (how did they get a banner so fast?!)
Character A buys B a gender affirming but stereotypical gift (sports jersey, neon pink purse, etc.) that they would otherwise hate (but find absolutely hilarious)
Specific Prompts 💝
[Bisexual] Character gets irritated when people reduce their sexuality to their current partner
[Bisexual] Character A is in a M/F relationship with B and worries that their queer identity will become invisible dating them
[Asexual] Characters explore different forms of non-sexual intimacy
[Asexual] Characters are both asexual but too nervous to tell one another. They awkwardly attempt to have sex but end up laughing at how ridiculous they feel.
Dialogue Prompts 💐
“Are they… flirting?” “Big time.”
“I got to fall in love with you twice.”
“To be seen is to be loved." "I see you.”
“Be gay, do crimes.” “Aren’t you a cop?”
“There is no heterosexual explanation for that.”
“Life is very different once you find your people.”
“Cardinals and hydrangeas can change. Why not you?”
“You're still the person I love. Nothing will change that.”
“We both wear pants. Makes it easier to kick your ass.”
“It’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.”
“I guess it makes sense now why it never worked out with my exes.”
Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at? ("She" by Dodie)
“You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling ... Well, good luck, babe. You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.” ("Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan)
Rules ❤️🧡💚💙💜🖤🤎
The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.
Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.
Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.
Have fun!
The Masterlist of fics will be posted around June 30. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!
Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️
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🌈Happy writing! 🏳️‍⚧️
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ginkgo-phyta · 4 months
Note
Can I request Spencer (later seasons, post prison era) gifting his gf an initial necklace, but the pendant is his initial?
i.e.
"This is nice, Spence, but my name doesn't start with an 'S'."
"Yeah, but mine does, and you're mine."
Feel free to take it as far as you like 😏
A/N: ehehe yes ofc, i love thissss, but also a lil funny bc my name DOES start with an S :P so imma change the dialogue a bit. keepin dis sweet- there is a lil steamy moment for like two sentences however mostly this is fluff, hope you enjoy it, my love!
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Fluff, no warnings (?), gender neutral language (im p sure, lemme know if i missed something!), 2.5k words
Spencer’s apartment is flooded with the music of joy; light jazz pours from an old style radio in the living room, your shared laughter tumbles into the rest of the place from the small kitchen, the sound of knives and forks scraping decorated ceramic plates signals the end of a well-enjoyed meal.
It was date-night for the two of you, a rare occurrence as of late due to Spencer’s teaching commitment. Initially, you were excited, thinking you would be getting more of him to yourself. You kept that thought to yourself, though, seeing how upset he initially was at not being able to help his team in the way he wanted to. That exhilaration was shut down particularly quickly as Spencer had begun bringing his work home with him. When he was working only as a profiler, sure he’d be away from you most of the time, but when he came home he’d spend all of his time present and in the moment. Now, at times, having him home almost felt worse than when he’d be away.
In the moment, however, everything was perfect. This is how you wished every night could be. The two of you bumping shoulders as you both prepare dinner; glasses of wine clinking with a cheers; old love songs serenading your flushed ears as Spencer pulls you into his arms to delicately waltz around the kitchen; his balmy eyes peering down into yours, speaking words of love and comfort. This serene feeling of domesticity was addicting. Life had been a whirlwind the past year, with it only being about six months since Spencer came home from prison. Things were jarringly different at first, both of your lives changing the way being wrongfully imprisoned changed Spencer, but you didn’t care. You could fight every battle life threw your way as long as your beautiful boy was by your side. Some days were more difficult than others, when Spencer would be reminded of the atrocities he witnessed in jail or what he had to do to survive. He’d isolate himself, snap at you, or push you away; but this evening was a good night- it almost felt like you had your old lover back.
“Dinner was delicious, angel.” Spencer beamed at you from the other side of his compact dining table, using his cloth napkin to wipe at the corners of his lips. 
“Well,” you chuckled, pushing out of your seat to collect both of your plates, “you helped me, that’s probably why.” 
Spencer quickly followed your movements, whisking the dishes out of your hands with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek before taking them to the sink. “It was all you, beautiful.” he had whispered against your skin while leaving your side. 
You silently shook your head, picking up your wine and water glasses to be washed. “Should I dry?” you questioned as he turned on the faucet, pulling a tea towel from the cabinet below you. 
Spencer shook his head, “It’s okay, they can air dry.” he spoke with a little shrug.
“Okay!” you responded bright-eyed, throwing the towel down onto the counter next to you, a bit too excited at the prospect of not doing anything. Your reaction peeled an infectious laugh from Spencer's beautifully cerise lips, his nose scrunching involuntarily. You could stand there and just watch him exist for the rest of eternity. 
And you did just that for a minute, took in the sight of him humming along to the jazz standard wafting in from the other room, engrossed in scrubbing the food stuck to the pans you cooked in. His jawline and upper-lip were shadowed in scruff, trailing down the sides of his Adam’s apple. His hair was long now, wavy and pushed back from his face, exposing his strong forehead and giving you unrestricted access to gaze into his gentle cinnamon eyes. The years passing changed his appearance in so many ways, and you loved every bit of it. Your eyes trailed down to graze over the top of his chest, exposed by the first few buttons of his deep cerulean shirt undone; they moved over the slopes of his broad shoulders, and down to his arms working steadfast to clean up the remnants of your meal. It didn’t escape Spencer how you were drinking him in without a care in the world, paying no mind to his elbow occasionally bumping into your torso.
“You having fun there?” he teased with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving the task at hand. His words spurred you forward. 
You simply hummed in response as you moved to stand behind him, your front pressing firmly into his back. Spencer’s eyebrow arched questioningly, but he kept his mouth shut, simply letting you do as you pleased. Your head peeked over one side of his arm, hands sliding down until they reached the cuff of his sleeve. Deftly, you began folding them up, “Just helpin you,” you mumbled as a throwaway explanation, moving to his other side to do the same. Fingernails scratched at his newly exposed forearms, your muffled giggle turning Spencer’s smirk into a wide grin. “Done!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his abdomen before nuzzling your face into his broad back. Over the barrier of fabric, the running water, and the sound of his scrubbing Spencer barely heard you ask, “Didn’t I help so much?”
His chuckle sent vibrations into your cheek, “Yes, honey, you were a big help. Thank you.” Content, you pushed your face further into his shirt. 
The two of you stood like that for a few more minutes, Spencer trying his best not to move too much in order to keep you comfortable. You haven’t back-hugged him like this since before he was framed, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until this moment. He washed the dishes a bit slower than normal, reveling in the heart-warming scene. Soon, however, he was done. 
As soon as he turned off the water, you were off him, moving to pick up the once-forgotten tea towel and face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “Thank you for your service, soldier.” you unseriously saluted before taking each of his dripping hands in his and patting them dry. 
A titter broke through his smile as Spencer reverently gazed down at you, the way your eyes twinkled under the soft-yellow lights of his old kitchen, your beautiful hands turning his own over to attack any remaining droplets of water, your eyebrows twitching reflexively here and there in focus. The first time he laid eyes on you all those years ago he was shot in the heart by Cupid’s arrow, and it has stayed there, firm in place, ever since. 
As soon as you were done, Spencer softly cupped your face in his palms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he tilted your head up to look at him. He leaned down, pushing a passionate, yet gentle kiss onto your mouth. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away just enough to mumble, “I have something for you.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you looked up at him in confusion as he pressed one more peck to your lips before moving into the other room, your hands chasing after him. Once his words processed in your brain you perked up, excitedly following behind him.
“You got me a gift?” You question, reaching where Spencer stood at the side table by the front door, right in front of the intricate, gold trimmed mirror you hung up just last week. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Spencer pick up the weekly newspaper, “Uh, you got me the…local paper?”
With a roll of his eyes, Spencer wordlessly pulled you to him by the waist, mimicking your earlier actions by pressing his front into your back. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your torso, holding you up, Spencer’s fingers digging into your waist. You peer at him curiously through the mirror before he whispers in your ear. 
“Look,” he motions down with his chin, and you do as you’re told. Spencer moves the haphazardly folded newspaper to the side, revealing a glimmering deep emerald velvet box. From the size of it, you could tell it was some jewelry other than a ring. You gasped in shock, not even having seen its contents. “Spencer…” your voice was meek and unbelieving. 
He watched you through the mirror, his cheek pressed against your temple as he opened the box before you. Your alluring eyes widened to their limits, hands flying up to cover your mouth. Your gaze whizzed to meet your lover in the reflection, “You got me a necklace??” your words dripped with incredulity. Spencer had gifted you generously in the past- rare books, handmade accessories, clothing you had your eye on, tickets to see your favorite artists live- but never before had he bought you jewelry. You never minded, content with wanting the first piece he gives you to be an engagement ring. That being said, this surprise moved you immensely. You took in the gorgeous necklace shining proudly up at you. A dainty chain in the metal you wore the most, in the middle sat a heart-shaped locket, no bigger than the tip of your pinky-finger. Before you could speak again, Spencer shifted to open the locket for you, revealing two pictures. One was older, taken at JJ’s wedding; Penelope had been going around taking photos of everyone and as soon as she neared the two of you, Spencer scooped you up into his arms as if you were the bride. The moment frozen in time showed you in the midst of a bellowing laugh, clutching to Spencer’s shoulders in shock, with your boyfriend looking upon you as if you were an angel incarnate, an equally wide smile plastered across his face. The second photo was more recent; you had invited the whole team out to a picnic brunch shortly after Spencer was released and this time Emily was the one taking candid photos. The two of you were cozying up at the edge of the yellow gingham blanket, Spencer's arms wrapped tightly around your figure rested between his legs. In the photo, his hand was cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to bring your lips close to his, the snapshot proudly showcasing his grinning mouth just centimeters from your own with the sunlight stretching out in the background. 
“Oh, Spencer,” you were at a loss of words, your fingers hesitantly tracing the silhouette of the pendant, “It’s so beautiful, my favorite pictures…” you murmured. 
Spencer hummed and nodded in response, setting the box down to take the necklace out of its confines. He straightened behind you, stretching the necklace out in front of your face, “Let me put it on you, baby.” he whispered, mouth barely moving. 
You happily obliged as he brought the chain closer to your neck, moving your hair to one side to better allow him to clasp it behind you. Spencer watched you the whole time through the mirror while your eyes were fixated on the necklace. The cold metal of the locket hitting your warm skin caused a minuscule gasp to part your plump lips, but Spencer noticed it all. The way your chest rose and fell faster, chasing after your quickened heart; the way you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth; your uncertain hands grasping at his trouser legs behind you. Once the chain was secured, the locket resting perfectly in the dip of your collar bones, Spencer placed soft, warm kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, holding eye contact with you with each; even as he moved your hair to dutifully pepper the other side. You sighed as his arms returned to engulf your waist, tighter than before, your hands moved to rest on top of his. He noticed your eyelids flutter close just for a moment, taking him in, before they opened again and your gaze shifted back down to the reflection of the necklace. Your eyes glinted with uncertainty upon noticing the engraving on the locket you hadn’t fully processed earlier. 
“‘S’...” you spoke, reading the letter dangling from your neck. You kept your inflection steady, trying to make it seem like you knew exactly what it stood for, but Spencer knew you better than that. Before you could make any assumptions, he spoke up.
“For ‘Spencer’.” he stated matter-of-factly, his face moving up from your shoulder to rest against your temple again. 
You smiled at him, more confused than before, “But aren’t you supposed to put my initials on it. You know, cuz it’s my necklace?”
“No,” he murmured sternly against your hair. Spencer’s left hand slipped down to grab onto your right hip, his right hand traveling up your sternum to thumb over the locket before splaying out to rest just below your throat, the heart pendant resting on the back of his hand.
Another, louder gasp sucked through your lips as Spencer tugged you closer to him, your back arched a bit as it stretched, bum pushing into his groin. 
“I put my initial,” he started again, heading dipping down to mouth against the shell of your ear, his eyes looking at you in the mirror through his cocoa lashes had you biting your lip, “Because you’re mine. And now everyone will know it.”
Suddenly, you whipped around in Spencer’s arms, throwing your own over and around his neck, hugging his body close to yours. He stumbled back a bit in shock, grabbing onto your lower back to steady himself before a laugh shook through his shoulders. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you enthusiastically repeated, pressing kisses along his stubbled jawline with every word. “I love it so much, Spencer.” you pulled back all the way to stare up at him, gaze filled with genuinity. One of your hands remained on the back of his neck, the other coming down to fiddle with the locket, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” 
His previously mischievous demeanor melted off his back as Spencer drank in how you dripped sweetness. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, honey.” His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I know things have been…complicated lately. I’ve been distant and cold, which I want to apologize for, but you’ve been beside me through it all. You’re my rock, and I just wanted to show you a bit of my gratitude.” 
You shook your head as you pushed up onto your tippy-toes to kiss him again, the hand on your locket moving to lightly scratch at the side of his neck.
“I’m all yours,” you muttered against his lips, tilting your head to the other side to slot yours upon them again. You pulled away after a couple seconds, “You don’t have to thank me, my love. I know you would do the same for me.” You pressed a few more kisses to Spencer’s supple lips before pulling back again, causing him to huff. “Are you mine?” you whisper.
Innocent doe-eyes coupled with a small pout had a quiet groan dragging from Spencer’s throat. He brought a hand up to trace your bottom lip with his thumb before tangling his fingers in your hair, 
“I’m yours, baby.” he nodded. “Only yours.” With that, he pulled you back in for a sensual kiss.
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A/N: omg sorry if this sucks im so sleepy right nowwwww it took so long to write this for some reason i cant process words properly but i wanted to finish this! i loved writing this piece, and i hope y'all like reading it. ANON! how'd i do?
311 notes · View notes
cottonlemonade · 1 month
Note
Hello, may I please have a small mocha late for here for Oikawa please?
Celebrating An Anniversary
warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing once
request: spicy, celebrating an anniversary with husband Oikawa
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“You ready, babe?”
Tooru buttoned the cuffs of his evening shirt when he came back into the bedroom to check up on your progress and let out a low whistle at the sight.
You grinned at him in the reflection of the mirror as you smoothed out the little black dress clinging to your curves.
“You look phenomenal.”
“You clean up nicely yourself.”, you winked at your husband who was not even hiding the fact he was ogling the matching set of underwear clearly visible in your state of unzipped.
You reached around and grabbed the zipper to end the preview but it got stuck halfway.
“Mind helping me for a sec, honey?”
Only too readily Tooru came to your aid and didn’t miss a beat, setting a kiss on your shoulder, then your neck.
“Mmh, new perfume…?”, he said quietly into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.
You nodded and met his eyes in the mirror again. You knew the look and one of his hands was already giving your butt a good squeeze when you reminded him, “The zipper, please?”
“Ugh.”, he groaned dramatically and got to work. But the dress became looser again and threatened to fall.
“Up, Tooru!”, you laughed.
“Oh sorry, got confused.”
He finished the task assigned to him, then hugged you from the back, placed his chin on your shoulder and took in the reflection of you two.
“Shit, how did I ever get you?”, he said suddenly, letting his large hands roam over the soft body he loved so so much.
“Yeah, how did the volleyball star ever get that chubby girl?”, you asked sarcastically.
He pouted.
“You had me from the very first day, y/n-chan.”, your husband said and you scoffed as you remembered his pre-dating antics.
“I mean it.”, he slowly spun you around so you would face him, keeping one hand on your hips while the other went up to cup your cheek.
“You were - and are - beautiful inside and out.”, he said simply, “I never had a chance.”
He lovingly ran his thumb across your lips and his eyes widened ever so slightly when you opened your mouth to suck it. Letting your warm tongue dance for a second you released him a few moments later with a soft plop.
“And there is that…” Tooru’s voice was lower now.
He led you backwards towards your bed and gently pushed you down on it. As he hovered over you, you attempted a feeble protest, “Baby, we waited months for this reservation.”
“We can still go to dinner.”, Tooru said sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck and pushing his knee up between your legs, “I’m just getting a jump on dessert.”
As he grabbed handfuls of your breasts and hips, you tried one more time, “I spent so much time getting ready…”
He slowly brushed the hem up over your thighs and then went to unbuckle his belt, “That’s fine, my love. You can keep the dress on.”
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a/n: thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoyed it 🌱
for requests see here
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hgfictionwriter · 1 month
Text
Mending
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Despite how great a girlfriend Jessie is, old hurt bleeds into your relationship with her and threatens to dismantle it.
Warnings: Mentions of emotional manipulation and abuse.
A/N: Bit of angst and hurt as reader recalls past experiences, but very much a comfort and reassurance fic. Happy ending. Based on this request.
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"Hey, change of plans, instead of going out for dinner after the game on Saturday, Becky's invited us all to go to her house instead." 
A heavy pit immediately formed in your stomach as you read Jessie's message. You totally forgot about dinner with her and the team on Saturday. Suddenly, the memory of you agreeing to come to dinner to celebrate Becky's milestone caps was vivid in your mind, unfortunately too late though.  
You chewed the inside of your lip as you stared at her message and fret about what to do.  
"Jessie, I'm so, so sorry. I completely forgot. I have [y/best friend]'s birthday that night. I didn't realize when I agreed that there was a conflict. We have reservations and tickets to an event that night. I'm really sorry - I don't think I can go to your game or to Becky's after. I wish I could though." 
"I can't believe I didn't notice sooner. I promise I will make it up to you. I know you have plans the next day already, but maybe we could grab breakfast together?" 
"All good. I have errands to run in the morning, so can't do breakfast." 
You stared at Jessie's message. It wasn't warm like her usual texts. And she didn't offer an alternative or continue the conversation. Your chest tightened.
"That's okay! I wanted to offer. I'm really sorry, Jessie. I promise I'll pay closer attention next time. Maybe I could meet you after my event is over?" 
"Or maybe I can skip part of something and join you for a bit that evening?" 
A couple of hours passed - no response. 
You stared at the messages with Jessie and fidgeted anxiously. You were supposed to be focused on a project right now, but you hadn't typed more than 50 words since Jessie texted.  
You checked your phone incessantly. Your mind knew no new texts had come through, yet you checked with blind faith and hope that you'd see a message from her.  
Logically, you knew she was probably just busy. She was at training, after all. But she'd made time to text you earlier. And she'd texted at various points of training before. 
Your stomach churned, a heavy, deep pit inside of you, as you wondered if Jessie was mad at you for cancelling. And did she actually have errands that morning – or was she just upset with you.  
The anxiety and unrest building inside of you was a feeling that was all too familiar and it hit you hard because of it. 
You tried to remind yourself that Jessie wasn't your ex. Nor was she like your ex. She wasn't someone who would manipulate you, punish you with mind games and emotional warfare, and dangle her affection above your head as a reward you may receive if you were perfect enough.  
At least Jessie wasn't like that so far. It had only been a couple of months. And you've seen people take great care and patience in slowly reveal who they are – and not for the better.  
You sighed and felt a lump form in your throat. You hated being stuck in this state. You finally worked up the courage to leave your ex – and she didn't make it easy – but you wanted a better life.  
You didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore. You didn't want to analyze every little action and word. You didn't want to try to anticipate your partner – doing your best to ward off her bad moods and brace yourself for when you weren't successful.  
So, could you cancel on [y/best friend]? Well, anything's possible. But, you didn't want to. You gave up so much of yourself and your life on account of your ex and you swore you wouldn't do it again. Not even for someone as incredible as Jessie. 
Yet, here you were making unprompted, borderline-desperate accommodations. The way you fell into old, bad habits left you dejected and ashamed. It felt like no matter how hard you tried to break cycles or damaging mindsets, simple things pulled you right back.  
Several hours passed and you felt like you were going to be sick. Your mind was noisy with self-reprimanding thoughts and endless theories. 
On your way home, you were looking at your messages with Jessie again when the typing bubble came up. Your body stilled and your breath hitched in your chest. You mouth was dry as you waited.  
"You don't have to do any of that, Y/N. Seriously. Go to your friend's party!" 
What did that really mean? Maybe it should've made you feel better, but instead you felt your worry grow. 
You chewed your lip and typed out a reply. 
"I can do both! I want to make it work. I'm sorry – that's what I should've said from the beginning." 
"What? No. You don't need to. Go to [y/best friend]'s party." 
"But I want to support you. And I don't want you to think I'm not prioritizing you." 
"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's happening. I think I've said something that's come across wrong. I'm not upset or bothered at all. I know you support me and prioritize me. And to be clear, you shouldn't prioritize me above yourself or everyone else." 
You read Jessie's message. While you were dissecting everything she said, this message made you slow down and take a step back. It felt genuine – as far as you could tell. Maybe it was real. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I guess I was just reading into things and getting in my head. I'm sorry." 
"Baby. Are you okay? What's going on?" 
Without warning, you felt tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You really wanted this relationship to be different. For you to be different, and you were ruining things anyway.  
You were lost in your thoughts when your phone began to vibrate in your hand. You stopped in your tracks as your eyes shot down to see Jessie's name and picture. Your pulse quickened, but in a way you weren't used to with Jessie. Normally, it was excitement and anticipation, but in this moment you felt trepidation. You started walking again and reluctantly picked up. 
"Hello?" 
"Hey." Jessie's voice was warm and despite your concerns, immediately comforting. "I was going to wait for your text, but I thought maybe phone would be better. Things can get misconstrued easily with text. So...what's going on? Are you alright?" 
"Yeah, I'm great." It pained you to muster up the false levity in your voice. "I'm sorry to worry you." 
"You know, I'm the Canadian here, and yet you are doing an awful lot of apologizing. And you really don't need to," she offered with a soft laugh.  
"I'm-" You stopped yourself with a near flinch before the word 'sorry' came out again. You took a quick breath and spoke evenly. "I'm okay. Really. Like I said, I was just getting in my head. It's all good though. Thanks for clarifying." 
"Okay," Jessie said slowly, clearly not fully convinced. "I mean, can you tell me what I said that caused that? It definitely wasn't my intention." 
You couldn't prevent your frustrated sigh from escaping you. You quickly spoke up to prevent Jessie from thinking it was about her. 
"Honestly Jessie, it's okay. It's not on you. I just wanted to make sure I didn't upset you." 
"Why would I be upset? I-" Jessie's tone was curious and not accusatory, but you cut her off. 
"I wasn't paying close enough attention and I had to cancel on you. And I know your team was expecting me to be there too, so now you have to make an excuse for me." You swallowed and took a short breath, unsure if you wanted to go on or not. "And, I don't know. You seemed kind of curt? Or not that warm when you first responded? And then I didn't hear from you for a while..." Your voice wavered and trailed off as you heard your own words, a sense of anger rising inside of you at how pathetic you sounded. 
"Baby," Jessie said affectionately, though you heard a faint laugh coming through the phone, "I'm really sorry. I was rushing to text you before we went out on the pitch, so that's why my texts were a bit more curt or blunt than usual, but I wanted to reply to you before I'd be gone for a while. I guess I didn't think about how that might be worse."  
You listened to her reply, still feeling small, and failed to come up with a response before she spoke again.  
"Are you free tonight?" She asked. "And by 'tonight' I mean in like an hour." 
You stammered briefly, skepticism and confusion clouding your response before finding your voice. "Yeah." You let a beat pass. "Any reason why?" You asked tentatively. 
Jessie laughed gently. "Because I'd like to come over and bring you dinner if you're up for it." 
Your jaw clenched subconsciously. This didn't feel right. But still, you nodded. "Sure. That'd be nice." You couldn't stop yourself before you continued. "But you really don't need to. I've already caused issues today. Like, you don't need to change your plans or go out of your way. I'm totally fine." 
"Sushi or Vietnamese?" She asked you undeterred. 
"I-I don't know. Up to you." 
"I would like your opinion," she continued lightly. It took you a couple of seconds to reply.  
"Sushi." 
"Done. I'll be at your place in about an hour, okay?" 
"Jessie..." You weren't even sure what you were protesting anymore. It just all felt unfamiliar.  
"I'll see you soon, babe." 
True to her word, Jessie showed up at your apartment an hour later, sushi in hand.  
"Hi," she said with a warm smile as she stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. Even though your reciprocation was delayed and mild, she pulled back and still smiled at you sweetly.
"Thank you for having me over. I got you an extra order of those dragon rolls you like," she announced as she walked further in and set the bag down on your kitchen counter. She started retrieving plates from your cupboards. You stood passively behind, watching her move through your apartment leisurely.  
"What can I grab you to drink?" She asked over her shoulder as she carried everything over to your table.  
"I'm fine. I have some water," you told her, feeling like your voice was disappointingly meek. You refocused a moment later and straightened, taking a step towards your fridge. "What can I get you?" 
"I've got it," she assured you lightly, holding up her hands, gesturing for you to relax. "I'll grab water. Take a seat. Dig in." 
You slowly made your way over to the table. Your eyes remained fixed on her as you sat down. By the time she took her seat, you hadn't even retrieved your chopsticks off the table. She held your gaze and took a sip of her drink. She set the glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  
"I was going to dig into things after dinner, but I get the sense it's heavy on your mind, so, if you're okay with it maybe we can just talk right now." It was more of a statement than a question, but she did leave the door open for you to object. When you didn't, she stood up slightly and shuffled over with her chair to sit right in front of you, your knees nearly touching.  
"Is this okay?" She asked as she took your hands in hers. You gave a few faint nods and she offered you a small smile. "Okay. I guess I can start by clarifying – I didn't mean to sound curt or cold at all. I was in a rush and didn't think about how my words could come across via text. I'm glad you told me though, because now I know if there's something bigger going on I can approach things differently.
"If I don't have time to fully respond, would it be okay if I just tell you that I'm short on time but will answer you more later? And as part of that, tell you things are okay – I just want more time to give a full reply?" 
Your posture straightened and you blinked as you processed her words. It just felt so strange.  
"Y-yeah. That'd be totally fine." You shrugged before shutting your eyes and rethinking things. "But, that's silly. You don’t need to do that. I just should know and be able to not spiral." While you felt nervous and uncertain a few seconds ago, you now felt a wave of internal disappointment going through you. She brought you back to the moment by stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.  
"I can communicate more clearly and intentionally," she assured you gently. "And you don't have to 'just know' - you're not a mind reader." She paused, holding your gaze before visibly exhaling. "But that does make me wonder. Why do you feel like you have to be a mind reader?" 
You could almost feel yourself shrink under the weight of her question. You averted your gaze and could feel your hands starting to get clammy.  
"Hey," she said softly, urging you to look back at her as she lifted her hand and gently cupped your cheek. "It's okay. I don't want to push you, but, I feel like there's something more going on here, and...I care for you so much. I want to better understand. Better understand you, where you're coming from, and how I can be a better partner to you." 
You don't know what happened. All of a sudden you felt your face screw up as tears started to form in your eyes.  
"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out strained.  She shuffled in closer and cupped your face anew.  
"Hey, hey. Don't apologize. It's okay to cry. Take your time. I'm here." She caressed your hand and though you couldn't hold her gaze for long, you felt her caring eyes upon you. "You can talk whenever you like – if you like." 
A few stifled sobs snuck out of you and you rolled your eyes at your lack of composure. She waited patiently and laid a lingering kiss on your forehead. You took a few deep, steady breaths and began to speak. 
"I-I don’t know where that came from," you explained, forcing a mild laugh. She didn't return your laugh and you grew serious once more. "I," you spoke and your words faded. You took another quick breath and set your shoulders back. "I'm just not used to being treated like that. Like you did just now. And," your gaze flicked away out of guilt, "I don't know what to do with it. And I have a very hard time trusting it." 
Jessie pulled her hand away from your face to take your other hand again. "Okay. Um. Well, first off, I'm really sorry that you're not used to being treated that way. You deserve to be treated with respect and care." She exhaled quietly. "Can I ask how you're used to being treated?" She rushed to explain. "It's not really my business – and I don't want to open old wounds, but if I knew, it would help me ensure I don’t inadvertently make you feel that way again." 
You sighed wearily, blinking back new tears. "Well, I guess they're clearly not old wounds since they flared up again so easily." You pulled your hands back and brought them up to your temples. "I'm so sorry. This is such garbage that you're having to deal with this. I thought I was better." 
"Baby," she coaxed gently, placing her hands on your legs and leaning in slightly, hoping to catch your eye. "Please do not apologize. Your feelings are totally valid. And we all have our pasts, and we each have unique hurt and pain from our experiences. And some things are not easy to heal, and I think it's fair to say that in some cases, some things never do fully heal. But, I'm here to help you navigate anything you may be going through as best as possible. I'm here to care for you, not hinder you." 
You dug your fingers into your face briefly before dropping them to your lap with a breath that was half sigh, half laugh. You looked at Jessie, taking in her soft brown eyes that searched yours with compassion and sincerity. How did she choose you? 
"Oh my gosh." You sniffled. "No one's ever said anything like that to me. Certainly not my ex." 
Quiet realization dawned on Jessie's face before she settled back in, remaining focused on you. She waited wordlessly for you to go on. You scratched the back of your head briefly, eyes trained on the floor before you forced yourself to look up at her. 
"Remember how I said things with my ex were rocky at times? Well. That was putting it lightly, really." You took a breath. "She could be so affectionate and loving one moment – like I was the center of her universe, and then cold and cutting the next, like I was some burden she had the unfortunate task of dealing with. And she never meant what she actually said – I always had to read between the lines. She'd tell me things are fine, but," you laughed ruefully, "they were not. She'd be withholding, and curt, making passive aggressive remarks. But anytime I tried to address things or call her out, she would insist that it was just me and everything was fine.  
"That is, until we'd inevitably have a blow out of some kind, and she'd make it very clear that it was always my fault. That I was being difficult and if she was being cold or mean, it was to protect herself and it was my fault for making her feel or act that way. " 
Jessie let out a brief laugh of disbelief, looking at you in mild shock. "Are you serious? That's-" She caught herself mid-sentence, exhaling momentarily before continuing. "That's unacceptable. So she gaslit you and made you feel crazy." 
"All the time." 
Jessie sat back briefly, slapping a hand on her thigh as she shook her head. "Wow. That's so horrible." She leaned back in and grabbed your hands. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. None of that sounds fair or right. That would've been so hard to navigate." You wiped at a stray tear and let out a short, bitter laugh.  
"It wasn't fun. And as you can see, it's royally messed me up." Your lip trembled. "And now you're dealing with the fallout. It's not fair to you." 
"Y/N." She said your name tenderly and gave you a reassuring smile. "There is no 'dealing' here – I...I really care for you. And I want you to know that you're safe. I want you to be open and honest with me anytime something bothers you or hurts you. I want to build you up and make sure you see yourself the way I see you." 
"See?" You asked, giving her a look. "I’m having a hard time reconciling these two experiences. Realities." 
Jessie sighed softly and nodded. "I can understand that. I can only imagine how hard it would be to be with someone who is supposed to care for you and have your best interests in mind, but they're unpredictable or inconsistent in their feelings and actions. It would be hard to adjust after being in a relationship where your partner shows up differently depending on the day. Or uses their affection as a weapon or a bartering tool." She sighed again and lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles before clasping your hand between hers. "I'm so sorry, babe. You didn't deserve any of that." 
You shook out your shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Except I thought I did for so long. And – I don’t know – I'm scared, I guess. She treated me so well at the beginning. And then over time things changed. Sometimes it's hard to believe that I didn't cause it in some way." 
Jessie gave you a frown of concern. "You didn't. I promise you that. Everyone is accountable for their own actions – you shouldn't take responsibility or blame for her behaviour. We can all get frustrated or upset with other people – it's inevitable, but that doesn't give someone the right to mistreat anyone else." She frowned further, her tone now lowering slightly. "And she's an adult – she should be able to express her wants or needs without playing mind games with you." 
You looked at Jessie, your eyes glistening with tears. You shook your head.  
"Why are you being so good to me?" You looked away, frowning as your own frustration bubbled up once more. "I'm not even mad about it these days. Because I can't change the past, and I learned a lot about myself, what I want, and what I won't put up with anymore. But the worst part is that despite how much work I've done and how far I've come – you're sitting here, being incredible, saying and doing everything I ever dreamed of and all I can think is how long is it going to last until you change." You went on adamantly.  "I know you're not her. At all. But, I've been burned before by someone who claimed to care. And apparently I can't seem to get over it."  
Rightfully or not, you expected Jessie to get frustrated with you or even insulted by what you said. Instead, she studied you quietly and eventually her expression softened even further and she gave you a faint smile. 
"You're right. I'm not her. And I hope I never meet her, because it breaks my heart to know that she hurt you so deeply. I really hope you know, or will know, that someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did."  
She took a small breath, readjusting her position in her chair and grabbing both of your hands again. She stared down at them and started to speak.  
"There's been something that I've wanted to tell you, but I haven't known when the right time would be." 
She looked to you with a soft smile.  
"I know someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did – I know that for sure - because I love you." She let the declaration hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I love you. I have for a while now. Each day I wake up missing you if you're not next to me, and when I think of you I think of all the ways I want to love you – show you I love you. I want to make your life even better than it is today and do that for the rest of my life.  
"Today, even with just the thought that I'd hurt you or upset you, I wanted to see what was wrong, what I did and how I could fix it so we can move forward together. I wanted to know how I could make you feel better. And then learning that you maybe didn't feel safe – I 100% wanted to reassure you that you should always feel safe and comfortable to feel your emotions and express yourself. I would never want you to have to edit yourself or hide. 
"And I don't expect you to just 'get over' things. You are free to feel the way you feel, even if it means you can't fully trust that I'm being honest when I say these things. I hope you don't have to question these things forever, but I need you to know that I will always reassure you. And maybe even more importantly, that my actions will reflect my words." 
She gave a light shrug and continued, her voice now playful. "And if you didn't notice, I'm a very patient and tenacious person, and it just so happens I'm very set on loving you for as long as you'll let me." 
By the time Jessie finished speaking your lip was fully trembling and the tears were you fighting back were rolling down your cheeks. She was watching you calmly, waiting, and you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook with a couple of soft sobs as you absorbed everything she just said.  
She rest her hands lightly on your legs and idly caressed your knee with her thumb while she waited.  
"Please don't hide," she coaxed gently. "Take your time, but you don't need to hide." A few moments passed and she added with a chuckle. "And I'm hoping those are good tears." 
You laughed through your tears and lowered your hands to give her a watery smile.  
"Of course they are," you told her, your voice thick with emotion. She cracked a smirk, sitting there so relaxed. You smiled further. Even if it didn't seem like it in the moment, being around Jessie always had a way of calming you and making you feel grounded. You launched forward and pulled her into a tight hug, which she readily returned with a soft laugh. She turned her head towards you to kiss the side of your head.  
"I love you, too," you whispered as you gave her a squeeze and she clutched you tighter. She pulled back enough to look at you and this time she had tears in her eyes as well.  
"You mean it?" She asked with a crooked and hopeful grin. You gave her a little disbelieving frown as you laughed.  
"Of course I do. Jessie, how could I not love you? You're everything I could ever want," you assured her. She leaned in and gave you a soft kiss.  
"I just want you to know that even though I said it, it doesn't mean you need to. If you aren't quite there yet, that's completely okay. I'm not leaving until you tell me to." 
You rolled your eyes in ongoing disbelief and gave a light shake of your head. "You can't be real." She scrunched up her face at you playfully and you leaned in, holding her face in your hands as you kissed her slow. "And for the record, I am very much in love with you." 
When you pulled out of the kiss, Jessie was beaming.  
"Then I'm a very lucky woman," she said decisively.  
290 notes · View notes
sc0tters · 11 months
Text
Owed It | Jack Hughes
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summary: you’re less than happy with how things ended between you and Jack so when the Devils come to Vancouver to play you decide to give him a piece of your mind, but what happens when he has the same idea?
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, face riding, use the of the word slut once, swearing.
word count: 2.25k
authors note: I sort of merged a request of some prompts for Jack and a part 2 of Misconceptions and Confrontations. Although I have left it on a cliff hanger I’m not going to make this into a full blown series which is why there hasn’t been a Masterlist made for this.
pt 1 | pt 3
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To say you were surprised when he showed up at your door it was an understatement.
After your conversations died down in December you pushed him to the back of your mind. Sure it was hard at first as you missed staying up until the late hours of the night giggling as you would be on FaceTime with Jack. But when Tito moved to the Canucks within a month of things pretty much ending with Jack you didn't complain. The Quebec native was fun, sure you two hadn't done anything under your clothing yet but that didn't mean that there weren't a few shared kisses when you two got far too drunk for your own goods or after big games as your own celebration for him.
The Canucks player had come over to grab his suit jacket that had he had left after you two went to watch a movie "thanks again," he smiled as you walked him to the door.
The gesture was innocent as he placed his hand on the small of your back "don't mention it," you shook your head as you opened your front door "Jack?" Your eyes went wide as the two of you were met with the middle Hughes boy.
Jack mirror your reaction as he looked at Tito. The boys had met each other on numerous occasions when the Canadian was still with the Islanders "Beauvillier," he scowled as he sent the older boy a glare.
The creased shirt on the Canucks player was not helping your cause, because to the untrained eye it seriously looked like you were letting him out after you two spent the night together.
Tito wasn't one to be scared of Jack or most players for that matter but the look that he was receiving would have made him a dead man if looks could kill "I guess this is my queue to leave," he murmured as he gave you a side hug before the older boy scurried out of your apartment.
The Devils player was still trying to comprehend what he had just seen "what the fuck?" Jack let out an exasperated gasp as you pulled him into your apartment.
You let out a growl "keep your voice down," you grumbled as it was barely eight o'clock in the morning.
It caused the boy to scoff "so now you care about if others can hear you?" The hockey player shook his head as he placed his hands on his jean pockets.
The comment caused you to grow irritated "last time I checked you are not in the position to parent me," you shot back as your eyes went into a glare.
It pissed you off how nonchalant the boy was "you're the one who left me on read," Jack had been left hurt after you ignored his question asking if you were planning on joining Quinn for the Hughes Christmas family dinner, an event that she was always an honorary guest to.
You grabbed the orange juice from the counter that you had been drinking "you're the one who decided that you wanted to see other people," you pointed out as you waved your finger at him "and I'm not one for sharing." Your voice was a low grumble as you brought the glass to her lips.
Jacks once irritated look was now a smirk "were you jealous?" He asked as he knew you were talking about the rumours that he had gotten back with his ex girlfriend.
The reminder of what happened lit a fire beneath you "you know I actually missed you," you scoffed as you couldn't believe that you wanted to see him.
You saw why you hated him so much back then.
The devils player rubbed his hand against his jaw "I missed you too," he blurted out as he walked over to where you were in the kitchen
"Bullshit," you blurted out as you sent him a glare.
The Hughes brother placed his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer to him "come sit on my face and I'll show you how much I missed you." He murmured as his lips were a mere few inches from your own.
Darting your eyes from his down to his lips your voice went croaky "Jack," you mumbled as you kissed him.
Oh how you missed the feeling of those lips on yours. Weirdly enough though the the amount of hatred in it was next to nothing when compared to the first time he kissed you, dare to say it but it was almost like there was a hint of love in this kiss.
As Jack pulled away from you he caught your lower lip in between his teeth as he gave it a small tug "where's your bedroom princess?" He asked as he cocked his head.
Your furrowed your eyebrows almost like you were confused by what he was hinting at "end of the hallway," you let out a soft gasp as you realised what he was hinting to.
So like any horny girl, you locked your hand with his as you pulled him in the direction of your room "you're so eager," the hockey player teased as he reached under your baggy shirt that was clearly one of Quinn’s as he helped you out of your panties.
As you stepped out of them you couldn’t help but roll your eyes "fuck off," you warned as you shook your head.
Jacks lips turned into a pout "that's not very nice," he had this shit eating grin as he sat on your bed bringing you closer by your shirt.
With his other hand he let it trail over your slit "god Jack just," your voice was breathy as you tried to grind on the individual finger.
The boy lay down flat on your bed "come here," he motioned for you to join him on the bed.
But when you only sat next to him he wasn’t happy "up here honey," Jack tapped his lips as he hooked his hand behind your leg helping move you closer.
As you hovered above his face you couldn’t help but remember why you were so irritated "you got a lot of ner-" you were quickly cut off when Jacks tongue darted inside of you.
You never really thought that Jack was the kind of boy to be a munch but god were you wrong "right there," you groaned as his nose continued to knock your clit.
The sensations were something that you weren’t used to. Sure you had been eaten out before but never like this "fuck!" Your one had gripped at the headboard as your other locked onto his hair.
Jacks eyes never left yours “so good," you moaned as you continued to grind on his face.
His lips moved with a pop as he replaced it with his fingers "you like this don't you?" He asked in a teasing tone.
You nodded as you watched him move back to his original position "yes Jack," you repeated your words as he kissed your clit "fuck yeah I do," your voice was broken as you tried to remain calm.
The smirk on his face was clear and you had to break him "this is what you've been missing out on," your comment drew a moan from his lips.
Playing with fire seemed to be your forte "what Tito had been getting whenever he wanted." You cooed as you forced him by his hair to make him look at you.
You got your wish of pissing him off "off," Jack tapped your thigh as he pulled his mouth away from your clit.
The build to your high was quick to become unraveled "wha-" you grew surprised.
He repeated his words "get off.”
Not wanting to piss him off you listened "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget that guys name." Jack warned as he sat up to kiss your lips.
You loved the way that you could taste yourself on his lips "you want me to forget Tito?" You asked making sure that you put more effort into the boys name.
It caused Jacks eyes to grow dark "see that you've still got that mouth on you," he murmured as he ran his thumb over your lower lip.
Nodding with a smirk "would never lose it for you," you explained as the boy pulled your top over your head.
Jack let out this guttural groan "missed these," he reached out to cup your bare breasts.
It drew a giggle from your lips "just my boobs?" You asked as the hockey player got up.
The boy tucked your hair behind your ear "missed all of you," he placed a kiss on your lips.
You watched as he grabbed a condom from his jeans "you knew what was gonna happen didn't you?" A scoff fell from your lips as he nodded.
He smirked as he pulled his shirt off of his head "cause my baby is my cock hungry slut," Jack rolled the condom over his cock “want you on all fours," he added as he motioned for you to flip over.
Your lips form a pout "got a thing for not seeing my face?" You teased as you let out a giggle.
Jack was surprised that you made that comment no matter how playful your voice was "thought you didn't want me to see your face when you came.” He explained as he pulled you closer now deciding that missionary was going to be the preferred position.
His cock teased your clit before he thrusted inside of you “you gonna be a good girl and take it for me?” Jack asked as his thumbs teased your breasts.
The moan you released was your worst enemy “not a big challenge,” you were proud of yourself for getting the words out.
They seemed to egg Jack on as he pulled your legs over his shoulders. It gave him access to fuck you in a much deeper angle “you liking that don’t you?” He smiled when your face scrunched up as his hand went to your clit.
You wanted to reach up to hit him but as he increased his pace it caused your hand to land on your boob “god,” you groaned letting your fingers tease the nipple.
Jack loved the way that you were so responsive to his actions. Sure other girls had been like that in bed with him before but this all felt different.
The girl that he had been pining over since he was a kid. Yes you thought he hated you but of course your mothers were right, Jack had liked you from the moment he saw you on that swing. The reason why he pulled you off of it? That’s simply because you weren’t listening to him.
You let out a moan “you’re so good Jacky,” you cried out as you made grabby hands at him.
It might have been a childish gesture but you missed the feeling of his lips on yours “my little girl wants a kiss?” He asked as he let his lips hover above yours. The angle that he was now thrusting into caused him to be best friends with your g-spot.
Given the new level of pleasure that you were felling all you could do was nod. And luckily for you Jack wasn’t in the mood to tease you. So his lips went on yours as his tongue swiped across your lower lip as he wanted to feel the feeling of his tongue fighting with yours.
When you let out a moan you granted his wish. Jack swore that the moment forced your head into the mattress that he loved you. Seeing you in the position that you were in made him feel like he was on cloud nine “I’m gonna come,” you announced as the boys motions on your clit quickly sped up.
He wanted you to see reach your high first because Jack was literally seconds behind you “go on my pretty girl.” The hockey player smiled as he kissed your neck.
It was crazy how that little moment caused your orgasm to not only come but also it hit you like a truck.
You repeated a string of “oh my gosh” as your pussy almost suffocated his cock “this pussy was made for me fuck,” Jack cursed as his high was met shortly after yours was.
The boy let out a soft laugh as he took in your sensitive state, it was like that simply didn’t change from the previous time you two spent together.
As he slid out of you your body shuddered “sorry honey,” he apologised as he hook his fingers under your jaw so that he could place a peck on your lips.
But when your phone went off you two each looked at the other with wide eyes.
Quinn x: I’ll be up in three minutes
Quinn x: Got you breakfast.
Sure you shouldn’t have been surprised by this, it was your tradition before every home game “fuck,” you groaned as you quickly got up.
You didn’t seem to care that your legs felt like jelly as you quickly tried to get ready “what?” Jack asked as he hadn’t gotten a chance to see the messages.
You didn’t get a chance to answer his question when you heard the front door open “I’m here!” Quinn called out as he shut the door behind him.
You and Jack were now truly fucked.
946 notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 2 months
Note
Bucky x reader where they get reunited after he gets back home, Mabye a very sappy and fluff and him getting back into demestic like w his girl and Mabye she’s like a clothing maker or m clothing mender/ tailor and that’s how she stay afloat while he’s gone and had no idea she was able to create things like that.
hi, babe! 💕 this is my first Bucky request – I believe I have at least one more in my inbox – and as I have promised, I gave it a chance to write for him 😅 I hope it's good enough because it felt totally different to write for him than for Buck lol 😁
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Bucky was a never ending trouble in the best meaning of this word. He was loud, funny, playful, teasing and full of energy. Life with him was a rollercoaster you never wanted to get out of. When he went to Europe, it was as if he had taken all your sunshine and happiness with him.
The days were long and grey – boring. It was all about going to work and coming back home to listen to the radio and read all the letters you had received from your fiancé. That was for a few first months but then you found a hobby.
It had started with looking at the magazines and wanting those colourful dresses and skirts they had there but you couldn’t afford them. So you had bought a fabric and dug out your mother’s old sewing machine from the attic. Using her old books about making clothes on your own, you had managed to create your first floral skirt. Your very first rush of dopamine and colour after Bucky’s departure.
When your neighbours had noticed your skirts and dresses, they wanted them, too. It had quickly become your additional source of money, but most importantly – it was grounding you. You had spent endless nights listening to the radio and working on the fabrics, humming to yourself and trying to stay hopeful instead of constantly worrying about Bucky. You would go to sleep so tired that you couldn’t even stare at the ceiling and be anxious about his life. Sometimes it had been making you feel guilty that you were distracting yourself so much when he was a prisoner in some camp an ocean away from you… But you wanted to remain being yourself as much as you could. You didn’t want him to be greeted back home with the shadow of a woman he had once known.
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Seeing him again felt odd. For a short while you hesitated from running into his arms and just stared at him as if he was a ghost. It was Bucky who ran up to you and picked you up to spin you around with that wide grin of his. You cupped his cheeks and smiled back, leaning in to rub your noses together and then join your lips in a sweet kiss. His moustache tickled your face as you wrinkled your nose with a giggle.
“My sweet girl,” he greeted you. “Sorry for being late. They didn’t want to let me go,” he made a joke as usual.
“Oh, how I missed you, John,” you kissed him again and he put you down on the ground.
“I see you’re all dolled up for me,” he pointed out and your eyes sparkled at that comment. You liked it when he was giving you compliments like that, it was making you feel confident and seen.
“Well, I tried,” you smiled.
“Where did you get a dress like that?” He asked, looking you up and down in a manner that brought heat to your cheeks. You already knew what he was thinking about.
“I made it,” you shrugged your arms and walked inside the house. 
“What do you mean you made it? You can create such things with those pretty little hands?” He was visibly impressed.
“Yes, I can show you after dinner,” you nodded at him.
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After dinner, you brought all the dirty dishes to the kitchen and let them soak in the water before taking your apron off and joining Bucky in the living room. He was walking around and looking at the pictures of you two that you had on display.
“I liked to have you around,” you told him as you leant on the doorway. “A reminder that my boyfriend was not made up.”
“It feels so odd to be here,” he admitted and you smiled sadly at him. “Are you sure you want me to move in? I can rent a room in town.”
“I want you here with me,” you assured him.
“People will talk,” he pointed out. You knew that he didn’t worry about his reputation at all. But he worried about yours. You were always his first choice and his most important person. Alongside his best friend Buck.
“To the hell with them,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled before approaching you and placing kisses all over your face.
“That’s the spirit. That’s my girl,” he teased. “I’m gonna marry you soon anyway and fill this house with a bunch of little babies. Daughters as beautiful and sons as smart as their mother,” he booped you on the nose.
“Girls can be smart, too,” you reminded him. “And boys can be beautiful,” you caressed his cheek.
“Yes, yes, of course… Now, show me the dresses?”
You nodded with a smile and held his hand to lead him upstairs.
“It’s not only dresses, you know… Skirts, too. A few blouses. I dug out my mum’s old sewing machine and started to make them. Half of the street wears them now. I earned quite a lot,” you admitted and Bucky whistled in admiration.
You opened the door to your bedroom. The sewing machine was standing by the window where the vanity table had once been. And on the chair next to it there were many colourful fabrics.
“Will you make something for me, too?” Bucky touched the fabrics delicately with his fingertips.
“I can surely try,” you chuckled. “But I will have to buy a new fabric.”
“No, no, look,” he pointed at the material with flowers, “a shirt like this,” he said and you laughed. “I’m being serious,” he winked at you. “I’d wear that. And I’d proudly say my wife made it when people asked or laughed.”
“Well, alright then, I’ll make you one like this but if you don’t wear it, I will never make anything else for you ever again,” you stuck your tongue out.
“Fine,” he stuck out his, too and you both laughed.
Bucky turned his back on you to keep admiring the fabrics and the neatly folded dresses and skirts inside your half-open wardrobe and you bit on your lower lip, trying not to make a sound as you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want to alarm him and to worry him, so you tried to hide your emotional reaction but eventually, you let out a sob and hid your face in your hands.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Bucky turned around and approached you quickly to put his arms around you. You shook your head, refusing to speak. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“It’s just… It’s just… I’m so happy you’re back and I can joke around with you again and…” you looked up into his worried eyes. “And making these clothes… It was everything keeping me alive when you were away. It was the only thing that helped me to stay sane. And now… Now you’re back, you’re really back and I can’t believe how happy I am… All that tension is just… gone,” you sniffed your tears back.
“Hey, baby,” Bucky wiped your tears off of your cheeks gently. “You should have known I wouldn’t let them kill me, right? And that I’d come back to you. I was planning to escape every day, hell, I would have escaped a hundred times but Buck was stopping me from doing something stupid. And I am grateful because in the end I am here with you. I just wish I could have been calling you from there to hear your sweet voice, to let you know I was okay. I hated to think how worried you had to be, little one,” he cupped your face and pulled you closer. You hugged him and rested your head on his chest. Bucky kissed your forehead and rubbed your back.
“I want to show you something else,” you whispered after a while and he nodded silently, still looking at you with worried eyes.
You approached the wardrobe and stood on a stool. Bucky followed you and stood behind you to make sure to catch you if you would fall down. You reached out to the top shelf and brought down a box. You put it on the bed and opened it, shyly looking at your fiancé.
He looked inside and widened his eyes at the sight of a collection of baby clothes.
“I made them for the future,” you told him quietly. “For our babies,” you added. “And I decided that if you don’t come back… I’d have them burnt. Even if I married someone else and had children with him, they wouldn’t be our babies. So, yeah… I was making them some nights, smiling to myself, hoping that some higher power sees that and thinks that now they just have to spare you,” you confessed.
“They’re beautiful,” Bucky picked up one of them and smiled widely. “I think they are my favourite creations of yours,” he admitted and you laughed through the tears.
“Thank you.”
Bucky put the clothes back into the box carefully and then he moved the box away to remove it from the bed completely.
“We should get to work then,” he winked at you and you furrowed your brows at those words but after a while you realised what he had meant.
“Oh, no, no, no, don’t you dare, Major Egan!” You giggled. “People will talk enough already about the two of us! For that we will wait until the wedding.”
“Let’s get married tomorrow then,” he grinned at you.
“You can’t be serious,” you sighed.
“Why not?”
“Because… I won’t be able to make a wedding dress overnight. In three days,” you reached your hand out with a playful smile.
“Three days, let that be. A man can wait,” he shook your hand as if you just had made a business deal and then he pulled you back into his arms again.
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MASTERLIST
260 notes · View notes
nanaomei · 3 months
Note
Hello again :) im the anon with idea for a request. What I had in mind was something a bit angsty with a *happy ending, of course, along the lines of reader who is pregnant and something happens to her that she gets hurt/injured and Gojo flips out. Nothing tooooo bad happens to the resder but she needs apecial care or extra attention after. Thank you again for accepting this a giving it a try💙💙💙 you are the best and can't wait to read whatever you put out next🤗🥺
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“Toru im fine, really” it’s a phrase you catch yourself repeating too often as of late. But oh, you don’t think he actually believes you. Because every step you take, he’d be there, and in a way, he can’t bring himself to relax.
“I know, baby girl. I know,” he’d reassure, but do anything but leave you alone. And he’s got a nerve to call you ‘baby girl’ again, as if you were helpless. Well, in his eyes, you are.
You’ve got him kneeling at 7a.m to help you put on a pair of tights, gently rolling them up your calves, your heel resting on his thigh as he kisses your own, kneading your plump flesh while pulling the waist band over your overflowing belly until it’s safely secured in its place.
“I’m gonna crush you” you scoffed silently, masking your worry under a layer of annoyance as your brows furrow at his act of care.
“Nah” He actually enjoys it and you don’t know why, your weight must be heavy as you lean your whole body with your hands on his shoulders, but it’s never a problem “I’m the strongest, don’t you know it by now, pretty thing?”
Toothy grin send your way, so cocky it makes you roll your eyes. Sure, he is.
Getting ready to work is hard, especially 8 months pregnant. You could easily stop working, you should, but you never want to. It both worries and amuses Satoru to no end “are you sure you’ll be able to handle today?” asking almost sickeningly sweet, your husband couldn’t help himself from making sure, just one more time.
It makes your nose twitch in annoyance, brows scrunched as you let out a frustrated sigh “Yes, thank you very much” your response is nothing short of sarcastic but that didn’t do much to deter him from worrying “and I mean, I’ve been handling you, a literal man child since forever, so I think I’m fine dealing with a bunch of teenagers for a day”
He knows you're capable, but he's also aware of the newfound boundaries your pregnant body can't deal with. You're creating another life and in all of this he's got to be the one reminding you to take it easy.
Smirking, he continued adjusting your tights up, pausing for a brief moment to let the baby kick his hand. He loves your spunkiness, your determination. It reminds him of your high school days when you'd fight hell and back to prove your worth.
"I learned my lesson,” he replied lightly, that teasing glint back in his eyes, throwing a playful glance towards you before standing up, helping you find some stability. "You're damn stubborn, but that’s part of your charm I suppose."
You let him capture your lips in a soft kiss, thumbs absently rubbing circles on your cheeks, a gentle reassurance and encouragement etched in his gaze "just try to take it easy today. If possible, give me updates in between for a good measure, alright?”
Your gaze narrowed on his, but the corners of your mouth twitched up into a small smirk. With his help, you stood up straight and tall, teeth clicking together as you adjusted your clothing one last time.
"I can't promise anything” The warning is lighthearted, your palm patting his cheek before picking up your bag ready to leave, so there’s no more talking about it.
As you head out, his arms naturally circle around your waist, supporting your heavy body with an ease that only he can manage. A cute grunt escaped him, but his smile never falteres. “Well then,”
"You're gonna be late if we don't hurry," he mumbled against your ear, gently tugging the shirt to make sure everything was even.
"And when you’re at it,” Satoru said once you were hopping into the car, straightening up and gazing down at you, hands resting on your belly, caressing it gently, "don’t make me regret sending you off alone."
He really hopes you won’t. Your husband, always the busy, had a lot to do throughout the day, and you knew so.
Although frustrated he couldn’t accompany you to school every single day, it was something he had to make peace with.
In the end, he needed to accept that he couldn't hold you back. But that didn't mean he'd stop worrying about you.
In the breaks, Satoru caught himself checking his phone frequently, waiting for a buzz with a text from you. A small smile graced his lips, a bubble of joy filling his chest as he read the message: "Tea is good," along with a photo of a fancy cup
It was not much, just a small digit of information, but it helped ease his mind for a while. At least until he got not as pleasant phone call from Shoko, making him cut short his mission and rush back asap.
He could recall only glimpse of it. Accident. Infirmary. You.
He shouldn’t have let you go there. He fucking shouldn’t. Guilt eats at him with each step, heavy and ground, echoing through the small corridor. Anxiety chips at his sanity, bubbling along with frustration and worry; a mix of emotions Satoru isn’t good at surpassing.
The last time he’d seen you was at home, and he curses himself out for not making you stay, when you quite clearly shouldn’t even be near this damn building.
Satoru isn’t angry often, but when he is it’s undoubtedly a scary experience, and everyone knows so. He’s aware he’s projecting now, panicking and probably overreacting but how could he not?
You’re his wife, his love, the mother of his unborn child. Of course he’s crazy about your safety.
Hurried steps carried him closer to the three students sitting on the bench, all looking up the moment they heard him approach. Yuji was the first one to try and talk, but quite clearly, his teacher had none of it. “Sensei-“
“Silence.”Satoru glared at the trio, his eyes sharp and cold, demanding obedience through voice and sheer presence.
Finding his breath trembling with anger, a rarely shown emotion from him, he crouched in front of them, and even with eyes covered his frustration was palpable. "Didn’t I clearly say to keep an eye on her?"
Accepting nods from each of the first year's with their heads hung low in shame was still not enough to calm Satoru down "so why the hell didn't you?" he bellowed, snapping their heads up, the guilt in their eyes doing little to placate him.
"We thought she could handle herself” Megumi stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper. It truly was a misfortune, if that makes it any better, and in this case it doesn't seem important; you are, and the thought of anything happening to you, unacceptable.
Satoru's eyes narrowed, taking in their pouty faces, looking like they had just seen a ghost. "You thought wrong" he spat, standing back up immediately, taking a step back.
"Whose idea was it?" his chest heaved, each breath an effort as he tried to calm his nerves, pushing his palms into fists. His hands trembled as if all of his anger and frustration were physically manifesting as is fearing the answer, although knowing well enough whose idea it was. He couldn’t even be mad at the kids for long, he firsthand experienced how stubborn you can be.
Surprisingly, all three stayed silent accept for murmurs of ‘we’re sorry’, not daring to look up and acknowledge his question. Still, by the looks they were sending one another, he by now figured it must have been you.
It warmed his heart a little, knowing how devoted they were to not snitch even in face of consequences. With a heavy sigh, Satoru rubbed his temples with his index finger and thumb, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
"Alright, we'll discuss this later," he said calmer than before, his voice laced with both resignation and acceptance. Turning on his heels, he started walking away, stopping short after a few steps.
“I’m going to deal with you three in a moment. Stay put” seeing his students so remorseful stilled his anger, forcing a deep breath out of him as he nodded for them to follow his orders.
The frustration he had moments ago dissipated, replaced by a heavier, more solemn feeling. He knew he shouldn't be mad at them, but the thought of you in danger because of your own stubbornness made him feel like he was suffocating.
Gathering his thoughts, Satoru headed toward the infirmary, the sight of you on one of beds meeting his gaze, talking casually with Shoko as if nothing happened- when it did.
Taking a moment to tone down on emotions before closing the door behind him, he made himself known, and from his face alone, it was obvious your husband was worried sick.
Your own face scrunched in an apologetic pout the moment you registered his familiar presence, and you even put on a sweet tone he knew you always used when you felt bad.
“Satoru, please don’t start...” of course you’d say that, he couldn’t help but scoff as he inched closer, watching as you put away the small container of fruits onto your belly- a comical sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to it now.
"Start? Start what?" He replied, glaring daggers at you, your pacifying actions seemingly going unnoticed.
“It was a misfortune-“
"A misfortune that led to you fainting. It’s not ‘nothing’, you’re pregnant for Christ's sake” his voice was unusually cold as he cut you off, but the underlying love and care for you shone through.
Despite feeling a pang in his chest, a sliver of guilt for the situation, he knew he couldn’t let it go, not today, not with you right in front of him and clearly went against his wishes when you were supposed to take it easy.
His voice was stern now, worried yet firm, his blindfold long pulled from his forehead to let his gaze search for answers in yours. He didn’t want to scold you, but he absolutely had to get to the bottom of this. Turning to Shoko, he let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice gravel as he spoke “Shoko, how is she?”
The woman hummed softly, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes before glancing at Satoru "Not as bad as before, except for some minor cramps from overexerting herself. Heart palpitation, it’s a good thing those kids brought her here. But please, she insists on going back to teach tomorrow."
Satoru's nostrils flared,m, shaking his head in disbelief. A nervous laugh escaped his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Absolutely not," he replied firmly, turning back to address you sternly. "You heard her. You're not going back tomorrow. You’re not coming back at all. I’m putting you on bed rest from now on"
You expected much, sure, but home jail? An exaggerated gasp left your mouth, hand reaching to squeeze his arm, a gesture of pleading and disapproval as you tugged on his sleeve, puppy eyes trying to guilt trip him into letting this go but the frown remained on his face. “b-but Toru-“
"No," this time, there was no place for discussion, his mind already set on things and completely convinced. "you stay home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Satoru quickly raised a hand. "I don't want to hear it," he said decisively, already feeling a headache form from the nerves "How is it looking?”
“I’d prefer this cutie stay here for an observation, at least till tomorrow” the brunette’s words carried tingle of amusement seeing your face contract in betrayal as the two seemed to have a silently gang up on you “S-shoko!”
"It's settled then. I won't let you go anywhere,” he declared, turning to the woman. “Make sure you put your foot down if she tries to argue.”
"You really underestimate me don't you?" You retorted back, your voice rising slightly as you pointing an accusative finger at both of them. "I am fine, really! I've been through worse, remember?"
You placed a hand on your stomach, giving it a gentle pat as if trying to reassure yourself. "I promise, I promise I will be careful next time. Really, really!"
“No do, you’re staying.” Satoru once again, was quick to shush you down, taking a seat on a chair next to your bed, not stopping himself from feeling your stomach, as if to reassure himself you were once again safe and sound, like he wanted you to. “Now take care of those grapes, and I don’t want you leaving any behind”
Your eyes landed on Satoru's concerned expression, softness creeping into your voice, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for upsetting him.
After all, he was merely trying to protect you.
Defeated, you sighed softly and relented, a small frown tugging at your lips. Crossing your legs, you resulted in taking one of the fruits from the container, clicking your tongue in displeasure, but what could you do? It was quiet clear by now that you lost this argument.
“Fine then. I’ll be lying on the couch like the fat potato I am” you whined but frankly, today had just been wearing you out. Regardless, it was clear you understood why he was upset. It wasn’t common for you, but with your current state, it was due to accept the defeat as it was.
A small sigh you, and you found it all frustrating and sweet enough to just roll your eyes. “You're way too overprotective, you know that?”
Your smile softened when he laughed along, letting his hand rest on your knee. "you expect any less from me?" his gaze drifted towards you affectionately, the tension starting to dissipate, replaced by the usual comforting warmth you shared.
Taking a deep breath, Satoru’s worries seemed to calm. "I mean it though" he said it gently, trying not to scold, but inform. Seeing the examination records, the earlier imprints of distress and worry still evident in his eyes, Satoru tried to take a deep breath. "no more working for you, little lady"
You gave him a small nod, a sweet, apologetic smile brushing across your lips. He knew you'd be stubborn, always had been, but he also knew you'd try to make it up to him. And perhaps, to some, it was a surprising sight—the way you’d try to comfort him in this situation.
“You’re always worried” muttering softly, you laced your fingers with his in an attempt to take away his worry.
“I guess I am” humming softly, the anger he felt previously was distant now as he leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand sneaking teasingly towards your chest-
"you guys are gross" shouting from the other side of the room, Shoko’s voice broke you two off in an instant "either stop mingling in my infirmary or i'm banning your husband from visitng"
"hey, no fair-"
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munsonthings86 · 3 months
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hello, can I request a Steve Harrington fic where r working too hard for school and has been pulling all nighters frequently to keep track. R ends up being too tired and falling a little sick and not leaving the house except for when she has to go to school and her friends notice, Steve notices. Steve comes over, tries to help her and something along those lines. You can write it however you want, you can change it up if you want. Thank you :)
thank you for the request! tweaked it just a tiny bit, hope you enjoy :)
contains: cursing, fluff, overworked reader, soft!steve harrington, forgotten date, 1.0k words
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School. Study. "Sleep". It was an endless, mind-numbing cycle that you were convinced was spiraling you into borderline madness. The condition of your bedroom was identical to how your brain had been feeling for the past week: cluttered and chaotic. With empty coffee cups littering your small floral desk, and your blush duvet covering more of the carpeted floor than your actual bed, you could hardly even recognize the room anymore.
The dirty laundry strewn across your floor would often trip you when you walked, but the assignments that you were practically drowning in made it impossible to shift your focus onto tidying the place.
You'd become a hermit; only leaving the comfort of your home to go to school and occasionally, the library, on the days that your room felt like more of a prison than a place of rest. Robin and Nancy, along with your boyfriend Steve, were certain you were avoiding them like the plague. They'd beg you to hangout with them, even bribing you by offering to treat you to lunch at the local diner, but the only thing you could say in return was a dry, "maybe later".
You didn't mean to be cold to them, but you were laser-focused on your agenda, determined to work first and play later. It's what led you to where you were now: head buried in your third textbook of the night, butt aching from being sat on your wooden chair for far too long.
On a Friday night of all.
From your window, you heard people, around your age you assumed, parading the streets and laughing loudly– enjoying their simple, young lives. Something you wished you could be doing too. But your work wasn't going to do itself.
You were color-coding the notes on your flashcard when three knocks sounded at your door, to which you mumbled a soft, "Come in," that even you barely heard. Your mother walked in, a mess of flour and an assortment of seasonings splotched on her apron from cooking dinner. "Honey, Steve's here," she smiled softly, though it was evident on her face that she was biting back the urge to tell you to clean your room, bless her.
The yellow highlighter you had was soon forgotten as your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what Steve was doing here. He usually called first.
Steve gave her a sweet grin when he passed her, leaving the door slightly cracked open, per your mothers request. In his hands he held a large box of pizza and a bouquet of pink roses; looking as dashing as ever with a crewneck and blue jeans adorning his body, with his hair being the perfect kind of messy.
You can't help but smile when you see him.
"Well, this is a rare sighting," he laughed, referring to you, "Should probably get this on camera." He kicked his white sneakers off where your own shoes were piled at, setting the pizza box down on your dresser.
"Very funny," you deadpanned, arms crossed on top of your chest. "What're you doing here?"
Steve approached you, something like a frown weighing on his lips. He taps the bouquet against his chest a couple times when he gently reminds you, "It's Friday."
You almost want to reach into your own body to catch your heart when you feel it completely sink. Friday's were you and Steve's designated date nights, never missing one since the two of you began dating a couple months ago. With the way you'd been so stressed and busy lately, it had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty.
"Fuck," your head fell into your hands as you rubbed at your tired eyes, harshly. Your words were muffled when you continued, "I'm sorry, I'm the worst."
Steve shook his head almost instantly, gently resting the flowers down on the desk next to you. "Hey, c'mon," he started, moving your hands from your face, standing you up in front of him. "It's okay, I know you've been busy lately."
He rubbed at your shoulders tenderly and the warm touch melted you. It was the first time you truly relaxed that whole week. "You're not mad?" You asked the question in a hushed tone, looking up at him with glittering eyes that were a bit red, your nose a similar hue. You must've been getting sick. His poor baby.
"Not even a little," he gazed at you with heated, sincere brown eyes and you couldn't will yourself to look at anything else. He kissed your forehead, and it's a bit salty with sweat, but he doesn't mind. "Just worried, is all," he murmured, adjusting the pendant on your necklace that had somehow found its way onto your back.
"Can I help at all?" He nodded at the books on your table.
"Steve, no offense but it's AP Calc," you smiled, lightly scratching at his scalp when your arms found their way around his neck. You laughed when his eyebrows raised as if he was startled, slightly shaking his head. "Christ," he says through clenched teeth, though he doubles down on his offer, "well, then I guess I'm learning AP Calc today. No biggie," he shrugs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"You don't have to do that, Stevie," you spoke against his lips, admiring how unbelievably sweet your boyfriend was. You knew how much he hated school, especially math, so you were more than grateful that he was willing to put himself through quite literal torture, just to make your night a bit easier. "But I want to," he kissed your nose. "Dinner first though, 'cause I know you skipped out on lunch."
Squinting your eyes, you released your hold on him. Sometimes it scared you how well he knew you. "How-?"
"I have eyes everywhere, love," he answered your question before you could even get it out. You rolled your eyes, a smile playing at your lips, already knowing that his "eyes" in question were just Robin and Nancy looking out for you.
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💌 1 new message from jojo: writing this while procrastinating on like ten assignments was so funny lol. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! inbox is open!
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