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#prompt: locked in a trunk
gothamstodd · 2 years
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closed in (2447 words) by gothamstodd Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Jason Todd Has Mental Health Issues, Complicated Relationships, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, he's definitely having some internal conflict here but overall i would say his actions are bad, dick and jason don't get along here, Jason Todd is dramatic, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, he does not get one :'), Not Happy Series: Part 2 of bad things happen bingo Summary: Jason's still healing from their last encounter when he runs into Bruce. They fight, Bruce wins, instead of taking Jason to the cave in the backseat of the batmobile, he puts him in the trunk bthb prompt "locked in a trunk" requested by @PechoraFlow - thanks!!
"Fractions of a second pass before Jason’s back is hitting the weather-proof lining of the batmobile’s trunk with a sharp thump. Bruce doesn’t waste time closing him in. Pitch blackness falls like a pillow pressed over his face and an unwavering attacker.
“Let me out of here, Bruce!” He shrieks, punching and kicking at the ceiling of the compartment, even as it makes his shoulder scream,  “Fucking-” He can’t even get in the breath to properly shout, and he barely registers the soft rumble and vibrations of the engine starting up, “I- Please!”
And he- fuck he has to scratch through it, fucking claw at it. Because punches aren’t going to get him through the satin and pinewood that Bruce must’ve shelled out for, and the hundreds of pounds of dirt that weigh down on it. Jason screams. No one can hear him down here anyways.
He scrabbles and claws but its not working, and he’s running out of air. He's going to die a slow fucking death and no one will ever know that he even woke up down here and- oh God, what if he wakes up again? What if he can never claw his way out and he just keeps fucking dying and coming back until he either gets out or loses his mind.
There’s rain slick on his face and the smell of wet soil thick in his nose and the back of his throat. His body aches with every movement and it feels far too frail to make it out of this coffin and up to the surface."
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wolviecat · 1 year
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Whumptober and BTH bingo
Day 3 - Solitary confirment and Day 8 - I got soul but I'm not a soldier
And also prompt: Locked in trunk for @badthingshappenbingo
@whumptober
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jamiesfootball · 5 days
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🔪🩳⛓️🛌🏼
Oh man, everyone remember this cool ask game that I did? Of course you do. It definitely wasn’t almost three months ago
Three sentences for each fic, with some extra in interest
Some general content warnings for guns, referenced captivity, referenced murder, and implied future claustrophobia. A lot of things being referenced or implied here, but nothing super graphic
Except the platonic cuddles, of course. Content warning for the homie feeling like home or whatever
🔪 - Jamie Murders Zava
Maybe he should just confess.
Problem was that the more he thought about it, the less he remembered about what happened. The bit leading up to it came clear and sharp, and the aftermath — moving the body, stuffing it in between the carjack and the emergency crowbar and an old bag of clothes Jamie didn’t remember putting there — all of that sprinkled in his mind like glass crushed underfoot. Barely noticed until he stepped on a stray bit, and then he was bleeding everywhere, lightheaded and tethered to his body by only the faintest wisp. Hard to remember he was a person when he couldn’t even remember what he’d been doing, what he’d done.
But Jamie had other memories like that. No one had ever noticed or called him out on it. He could probably figure out what he’d done when confronted with the evidence, couldn’t he?
Speaking of the evidence.
He waited for Goodman and O’Brien to pass. Pretended to check his phone. When the coast was clear, he popped the boot open. Closed it.
Dead as yesterday.
He’d call for an Uber.
🩳 - Locked in a Trunk
He waited for the lads in red and white to leave. Then he made his move.
The first trunk he checked was disappointingly full, but the second one he found was only halfway crammed with odds and ends. With one last glance over his shoulder, Jamie tucked himself inside. Taking care to be all quiet-like, he pulled the lid closed and grinned to himself in the resulting darkness.
These equipment trunks didn’t even have locks on them. Honestly, it was like asking for someone to break in.
He settled in, making himself cosy amidst the spare gear, and waited for the others to come and find him.
⛓️ - Muzzled
No.
Someone's standing over him.
Roy snaps his eyes open. A black hooded figure stares back.
A strangled noice curls from his throat. He tries to throw himself back, and hits human hands and human heat and a very human knee that digs into his back and pins him to the fucking bed.
Something cold and metal presses into his hair, flush against his scalp, and clicks.
"Good morning, Mr. Kent,” the hooded figure says in smooth, faintly accented English. “I am going to start by asking for your cooperation."
🛌🏼 - Secret Nap Club
He cracked open his eyes and groaned.
This was much worse.
This time it was Roy who’d crossed the equator line of pillows, crushed right over them so that he could spoon against Jamie’s back. His arms were tucked tight around his middle, crossed possessively over each other like he was afraid of someone stealing his teddy bear.
Meanwhile Jamie slept on, his arms flopped innocently over the edge of the bed, as far away from Roy’s side as he could get without rolling onto the floor. He inhaled in quiet, wheezy little breaths, dead to the world while Roy seethed into the crook of his neck.
Even his snoring was inoffensive. What a fucking prick.
From the looks of it, Jamie had done everything right this time. He’d even worn a T-shirt, a thinning grey scrap that did nothing to spare Roy from his sleep-warmed skin. Or the not completely inoffensive scent of body wash, which was a sort of mix between woodsy and citrusy. For some reason, it brought to mind his host family’s kitchen, and the box fern that used to hang in the window, catching the morning light while the kettle steamed under it.
God, this was the worst fucking start to his day.
He was so busy composing an argument in his head for why this was still Jamie’s fault that he lost track of time, his eyes slid shut, and he fell back asleep.
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suffercerebral · 4 months
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me having gone to bed at 6 am every day for the past week and generally spiraling mentally while rotting in bed waking up this morning: a 4 mile hike in the heat is a really good idea right now, and while we're at it let's start like 3 art projects
#maybe my mom was onto something all these years telling me i'm bipolar#no i don't think i am but i do technically have a bpd diagnosis so like. mood swings up the fucking wazoo are not new#but i am not one to be like 'exercise will fix me'#i've also just come to terms recently with the fact that i didn't kill myself already so might as well start thinking of the long term#so not being in constant pain when im older is something im actually thinking of now#so like. gotta move more which i was doing during this semester! walking like 3 miles a day which didn't help brain but#it's gotta be good for you anyway even if i don't get the endorphins everyone says you get when working out#that's neverrrr been me bc also chronic illness w exercise intolerance#so it's like. wah i have a desire to move my body more and know it's beneficial#but chronic illness + mental illness + trying not to think about exercise in terms of weight loss bc i'm trying not to make that the goal#although certainly wouldn't be mad if that was the result but if i prioritize it over just overall health it's gonna make me obsessive#i'm saying a lot of words. i have no one to really talk to so i once again come to tumblr as a public diary#ANYWAY. trying to find balance with wanting to exercise for overall well-being but dealing with other factors like chronic illness#which has actually been under the most control it's been in years i barely even consider myself (physicslly) disabled these days#and also balancing the fact that while my disordered eating has never recovered and i still have extremely bad relationship with myself#im in a relatively better place with that. i'm not starving myself and im not going through binge/purge cycles#but my relationship with food and eating is still very much unhealthy#and i don't think that will ever really change bc it's so ingrained in the everything about me#i don't really know what i'm talking ahout anymore or what prompted this#i can't simply just say 'i'm gonna go for a hike today' and be normal about. always gotta psycho analyze myself#im in a very weird stage in my life where i feel like i have control over nothing and i barely even exist in my own body#im just like a cacophony of voices trapped inside a meat suit but im not in the drivers seat im stuffed in the trunk and tied up#and the guy driving is an old blind mind who should have lost his license his ass is NOT road safe!#so it's like i have all these ideas and desires and feelings and ahh!! but hey i'm locked up here let me out please#and also the state of the world. so bleak and hopeless and paralyzing that i've just kind of shut my feelings off so i'm rapidly switching#between numbness and overwhelming agony#what the fuck am i talking about
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slu7formen · 6 months
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MDNI. luke x fem!reader
you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.
warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.
And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.
Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.
He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.
"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.
You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."
"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.
"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.
"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"
With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.
He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.
The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.
"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.
Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.
With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."
Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.
The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.
"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.
As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.
Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.
But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.
You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.
Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."
“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.
The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.
You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.
"We'll take them" you declared.
The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.
As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.
Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.
"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."
Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.
The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.
A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.
"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.
Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.
The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.
Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.
Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.
One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.
"Hilarious" he remarked.
Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.
The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.
The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.
As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.
Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.
Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.
There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.
He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.
“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."
Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.
"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."
You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.
Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"
You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.
Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."
“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”
There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.
You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."
Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.
Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.
"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"
"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.
The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.
A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.
Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.
Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.
A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.
“Seriously!?”
There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.
You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.
"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.
Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"
His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.
"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."
The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?
You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.
"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."
He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.
A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.
"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.
The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.
A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."
Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.
You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.
"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"
You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."
Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.
A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.
He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.
"Are you a virgin, Luke?"
The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.
"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.
A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.
Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.
His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.
He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.
You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.
"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.
Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.
"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.
Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.
"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.
The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…
"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”
Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?
Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?
But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.
"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.
His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.
"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.
Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.
Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.
But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.
Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.
You know, the classic shit.
But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.
So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.
But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.
He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.
You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.
“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.
He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.
You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.
He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.
All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.
He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?
He had to thank the gods for his luck.
“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.
He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”
Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.
“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.
You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.
“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”
Now that was new.
If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.
“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.
“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”
He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.
The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.
The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.
In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.
It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.
Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.
“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”
“What do you think?”
part two <3
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cregansdingdong · 1 month
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ɢᴜᴀʀᴅᴇᴅ.
Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Wife!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: he does get snappy for a second so very slight angst, his boo thang doesn't tolerate that so don't worry, period-typical misogyny, gets a tiny bit suggestive at the end but nothing crazy hes eating her coochie out off camera; lovers spat but he can't resist her this is so Honeymoon by lana del ray also love and war by Fleurie
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Aemond was not a man of many words. His wife knew that upon their marriage. She knew he had a fortress around his heart and his mind in order to better protect himself, and it wasn’t something she took complete offense to—there was no point in taking it personally; the walls would not come down because they took vows in front of the High Septon. Day by day, she would have to chip at him, speck by speck, brick by brick, until all that was left…well, she had yet to figure that part out. But still, she persevered. Their nuptials were built on a political agreement in the night—like everything else among the highborns—her father brutally negotiating his terms to bend the knee to King Aegon. She remembered what it felt like being stirred out of her sleep by her handmaiden, dressing in the dark to make an appearance for their princely guest. There had been little explanation at the moment, and even her sisters hadn’t a clue.
Until they saw him. One-eyed and formidable; standing there, the silver-haired Targaryen Prince didn’t need to do much to strike fear in the hearts of Borros Baratheon’s five daughters. Lined up like prized cattle, they waited for him to take his pick. She thought he’d pick Cassandra—the son they’d create together would most likely be the heir of the Stormlands. That was the smart choice. Instead, as she stared ahead humiliatingly, a gaze of amethyst locked onto the slope of her shoulder, trailing the silhouette of where her jaw met her neck. Her throat. It was predatory, almost, the way he inspected her. A viper choosing the most appetizing little mammal it could find. Then he approached her, somehow even taller than he seemed—he stood close enough that she could feel the heat of him emanating into her chilled skin, his even breath fanning lightly against her cheek. “This one.”
The words were so final. There was no arguing, no further negotiations to be made. He’d chosen her. That was all. A year passed, and it was a long one. His betrothed did her best to ignore the whispers of the men of her father’s court. One-eyed Kinslayer, they’d say, the youngest is his bride. He’ll come to claim her soon. The day did arrive when the Targaryen prince returned on dragonback to collect what he was entitled to. There had only been the bare warning of a raven just a day before, leaving her enough time to decide what she wanted to take to King’s Landing and send her trunks ahead. Vhagar arrived after dawn, her rider as stoic and unyielding as he’d been the last time they met. Saying goodbye to her sisters was difficult, but she managed, remembering the very firm prompt Lord Baratheon had given her about crying in front of the prince. And she didn’t, despite the indignation that came with being sold like a broodmare. Her entire life she’d known her birth would only be useful as a bridge between Houses—but being a bride of war felt shameful, vile, and held no pleasantries.
Meeting the dragon churned her stomach terribly. Other than a few of the quiet shushes in High Valyrian, Aemond hadn’t said much during the exchange. The ancient beasts hadn’t cared to eat her, thankfully. The first hurdle was over with. She rode on the back of Vhagar that morning—which was somehow more terrifying than it sounded…and a tad humiliating for how long it took her to actually climb to the mount. She’d expected him to rush her, to make a comment, but he remained silent and unusually patient. The journey itself felt longer than it was, her fists clenched around the hem of his doublet, but it was over soon enough. They’d married within the week, barely having said a word to each other. Every day after that was a power struggle. Aemond must’ve thought she’d be meek, or perhaps quiet, but he’d been either sorely mistaken or genuinely misled. But the deed was done, the marriage consummated thoroughly. He made his bed and he had to lie in it. Whatever the case was, their shared chambers—his idea—worked dually as a bedroom and a battlefield. While she was successful at times in penetrating his armor, the circumstances did not change even after half a year of marriage.
“What is wrong now?” She hummed, watching him stare down into the flames of the lit hearth, hands pensively behind his back. She knew his habits like they were imprinted in her skin. He only stood like that when something was bothering him. Her embroidery was paused in her lap as she waited. Aemond turned his head slightly, his eye flicking over to her. He said nothing for a few more moments, as if he was debating entertaining such a question at all. Sometimes he liked when she pushed at him. She wasn’t sure if this was that sort of evening. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, wife.” There wasn’t as much bite to his words as she expected there would be, but if he wanted to start, she would finish. “I would like to concern myself, thank you, lest you go blind staring into the fire before our anniversary. What has you in such a foul mood, husband?”  She puts her craft down on the table, staring at him impatiently. He stiffened at her words, and she knew then that she struck a nerve. It seems to work though. Aemond’s features harden, the slightest bit of the real him seeping through his endless stoicism. “Small Council.” Was all he said. She gets the gist of it. “I see. Would you like to share anything else?”
“No.”
Something about the blatant rejection thrilled her. She was no fool as to what probably happened—the King was drunk, angry, or plainly at odds with whatever it was that her husband and the rest were trying to suggest to him. She’d heard from the Dowager Queen they had begun talks of making a match for young Jahaera. Aemond was a hard man to read, but he wasn’t completely indecipherable. “I’m going to offer you my council then.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, legs uncrossing upon her standing. He doesn’t move as she strides toward the fireplace, as unyielding as she’d been the moment she entered the sept and became his wife. “His Grace, the King, is courageous and inspiring. He’s a man of the finest breeding and a formidable, yet merciful, attentive ruler–”
“If you’re going to give council that I did not ask for, at least speak plainly.” He grumbles, irritation emitting from his poreless face. “In this room, it is only you and I, and neither of us wish to lie. I care not to hear compliments of my brother fall from the lips of my wife.” She considers her words for a few moments. “Alright. The King is a drunk who lives in his own world—but he is still the King, and that means the ideas of his advisors can be very easily dismissed by a mere word if he so wishes. Attempting to speak sense into him, or to convince him, will never work when he has such power.” 
“If you’re suggesting I play into his drunk delusions, I will not.” He scoffs, eye narrowed in reproach. She tries not to get angry right away. “That is not what I’m suggesting. Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was going to say that your best chance is convincing the second highest person in the realm. The Queen.”
“This is a matter between men. Helaena is just as much in her own deluded world as he is—worse, even. She is dreaming her life away. Speaking to her is not unlike catching a cloud, wife.” Aemond says, walls coming back up to ignore her again. His coldness returns in an instant. “Your council has proven useless as I knew it would be. You should return to your embroidery.” And now she was angry. “We’re the perfect pair then, aren’t we, my prince? You dismiss me as Aegon dismisses you.” Her words came out like a challenge, daring him perhaps to actually consider what it was she was trying to say. He reacts accordingly. A long, slender hand wraps itself around her arm in an inflexible grip, yanking her to him seemingly to remind her of their roles. It didn’t hurt. The words were gritted from between his teeth. “What did you say to me, wife?”
“You heard me. Your unwillingness to accept another perspective of how to get what you want will be your downfall. And to think I was almost about to offer to speak to Helaena on your behalf. Perhaps she is a cloud to you, husband, but she’s quite tangible if you treat her like a human being.” She huffs. Aemond pauses at that, in thought as his hand loosens ever so slightly. “I should bend you over my knee for speaking to me that way—you’re lucky I’m not in the mood for it. Talk to Helaena then. Tell her Aegon is behaving like a stubborn fool and convince her that the Lannisters are the strongest choice for Jahaera if she cannot produce another male heir—I’m not asking.” His gaze stared down into her face, imploring her to refuse and see what was going to happen.
“Is my husband demanding my help?” She grins, something absolutely infuriating to him. Help. He loathed that word. “You said it yourself. You’re not asking. My idea must truly be valuable to you—my bond with Helaena even more so. I thought it was a matter between men?” The taunt in her voice was exhaled against every nerve in his body urging him to act. To show her how maddening she was. To fuck the teasing out of her right there beside the fireplace. He was itching to have her do as he wished, and to do with her as he wanted. “You’re testing my patience.” He warns, something uncompromising burning behind his eyes. So different, and yet exactly the same. His wife leaned in closer, undeterred. “If you’re not willing to say please verbally, husband, you can do it another way. Or, of course, you can hurry along to the next council meeting if you’re so eager to be at Aegon’s mercy. What will it be?”
“Another way?” He murmured, eyes locked down at the juncture of her throat. “Hmm. It seems we’ve come to an understanding, wife. Lift your skirts.”
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hongcherry · 9 months
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stuck with you || c.sc (m)
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Your road trip takes a turn for the worst and leaves you stranded during a winter storm. It's not long until the car gets chilly, but luckily for you, your boyfriend has an idea to keep you both warm.
❄️ Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)
❄️ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff; Established relationship
❄️ Warnings: Pet names (baby, baby girl, princess, angel), unprotective sex (dont be like them), fingering, breast play, creampie, dirty talk, car sex so technically exhibitionism, reader is slightly inexperienced/shy (not a virgin tho)
❄️ Word Count: 3.7k
❄️ Project: @k-vanity's event. Prompt is "snow day/snowed in".
❄️ Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one aha. This was meant to be posted last holidays, but I never got it finished in time. Now, I rushed it to meet this deadline sdfk;bjfdlsk. So... Please be kind 🥲
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Your idea of a mini road trip was going well. You were sharing memories with your sweet boyfriend, who you had dragged with you, filled with laughs and a few forced smiles. Sure, Seungcheol was grumbling fifty percent of the time, but the other fifty percent was genuine happiness… Well, he slept for fifteen percent so that other fifty wasn’t accurate. Nevertheless, you weren’t going to let his party-pooping butt rain on your parade.
However, what did ruin your parade known as a road trip was when your car started to break down in the middle of a snowy night. Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol let a few expletives slip from his pout. His hand was wavering in different directions as he lectured the car for being “a complete waste of a fucking car.” You would have found it amusing if it weren’t for the fact you were about to be stranded in a deserted area.
“Hurry and call for a pickup before either of our phones dies,” Seungcheol instructs as the car begins to slow to a stop.
You oblige quickly, looking up a local towing company and giving them a call. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a couple of hours to arrive due to the bad weather. Seungcheol curses once more before locking the already-locked doors, yanking out the keys, and tossing them onto the dashboard.
“We should have stayed at the hotel one more night like I said,” he huffs with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring out into nothing. Both of you are sitting in the dark as you let the situation sink in. Guilt is forming in your chest.
“I just wanted to get to the next city by the morning so we could see the festival,” you mumble. Seungcheol knows this already, but you feel it necessary to explain again. You didn’t anticipate or wish for this to happen.
Hearing your dejected voice, Seungcheol’s body relaxes as he turns to look at you. “I know, baby,” he sighs.
“Let’s move to the back so that we can be more comfortable,” he suggests. You’re about to open the door when he stops you suddenly. “Climb in from here. We don’t want the cold air in.”
“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly. It’s warm now since the heater was on before the car shut off.
Carefully, you squeeze through the seats to sit in the back. Once you’re seated, Seungcheol follows suit. He reaches back into the trunk and digs out the blanket you had packed.
He pulls you into his lap, wrapping the blanket around you. You tuck the ends of it behind Seungcheol so he can hold it in place with his back.
“I’m sorry I made you feel bad,” he speaks softly with a deep exhale.
You shake your head. “You didn’t—”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your clothed thighs. “I’m just tired and grumpy.”
“Hm,” you hum and give him a small smile. “You are tired and grumpy.”
“Tired and grumpy Seungcheol is sorry,” he says, lips pursing in a tiny pout and voice slightly higher.
Giggling, you hit his chest playfully. “You’re forgiven.”
“Good. I hate when my baby’s mad at me.”
“I wasn’t,” you reply. “Now, go to sleep, Cheollie,” you smile.
Seungcheol nods, bringing you down for a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around your body. You lean forward to lay against him. With the warm air, blanket, and his heated body, you’re feeling hot; however, you know the temperature is going to drop soon.
As expected, the car grows chilly within thirty minutes.
You wake from your slumber with a shiver. Seungcheol’s head is leaned against the headrest, breathing evenly as he sleeps. You reach up and softly graze his cheek. It’s cold under your touch. Frowning, you cup his face to heat his skin. He stirs for a second and then flutters his eyes open.
“Are they here?” he questions, referring to the towing people.
Shaking your head you say, “No, you were just cold.”
“I’m okay,” he replies even though his body shivers as soon as the words come out. “You’re cold?”
“A little,” you confess. You let your hands leave his cheeks and land on his shoulders gently.
Seungcheol’s eyes roam your face, taking in the occasional shakes of your body from the low temperature.
“I have an idea,” he replies belatedly.
“For?”
“To make you less cold.”
“Oh?”
You stare at him in confusion. You figure he’s going to grab the second blanket in the trunk, but instead, he grips your hips and slides your body against his crotch.
“Oh,” you gasp, face warming at the implication. “But we’re in public.”
Seungcheol shrugs. “In the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm. I doubt anyone is going to come this way.”
You hold his shoulders firmly when he rolls his hips under you. The action has him rubbing your clit briefly. You tighten your grip on him.
“The towing people,” you explain, trying not to focus on Seungcheol’s movements.
“You said they’d be here in a few hours. I don’t need a few hours to get you to cu—”
“Cheol!” you scold his language. Seungcheol just smiles. “I thought you wanted to get warm. Not… that.”
He clears his throat and stops grinding against you.
You bite your lip to suppress the whine that wants to come out. His actions had felt good, and you admit silently you were feeling warmer as your body became aroused.
“Right. I mean, I don’t need a few hours to get you warmed up,” he corrects innocently.
“I’m not sure,” you answer hesitantly. “Cuddling works too.”
You’re not too experienced—Seungcheol having been your first a few months ago—so having sex in such an exposed space feels like you’re skipping some imaginary steps.
He gives you a reassuring smile. “Then cuddles it is. Let me get the other blanket.”
Seungcheol moves to reach backwards. With his back no longer holding the blanket, it pools around the both of you. The cold air hits your body, causing you to shiver again. Even with the second blanket, you will only be warm for a little bit before the coldness consumes you again. You could say the same about what Seungcheol proposed, but at least you would have more fun.
You stare at him as he gathers both blankets and wraps them around you again.
“What?” he asks when he sees the flint in your eyes.
“M-maybe I’ve changed my mind,” you say a little nervously.
“Oh?” he wonders. “You don’t have to. I’m really okay with just cuddling.”
Your hands on his shoulders slowly slide down until they rest flat on his chest. You can feel his heart pumping quicker as the seconds tick by.
“I-I just don’t want to go to jail,” you say.
Seungcheol grins, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them. “Like I said, I don’t think anyone is going to catch us, and the snow will slow down the towing people. Plus, I’m sure Soonyoung and Seokmin will come bail us out.”
You huff at his last sentence. “Why them?”
“Because if they can’t do it the normal way, at least they can cause a big enough distraction so we can escape.”
“Babe,” you whine. You don’t like the thought of being a fugitive.
“Relax, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles. “It’ll be fine, but you don’t hav—Hmph!”
Not wanting to repeat the conversation, you lean forward as he’s talking and press your lips on his.
Seungcheol grips your arms in shock but soon eases his hold once he gets his bearings. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer until your arms fold against his chest from the close proximity.
With a surge of boldness, you wiggle your arms away and readjust to grab onto the seat behind him for leverage. He moans into the kiss when you start circling your hips against his.
“Just shut up and get me warm,” you mumble into the kiss.
Seungcheol smiles against your lips as he nods. His cold hands slip under your shirt to push your bra up. He doesn’t want to get you completely naked since it’s cold, so this will do.
You sigh softly when he gropes your breasts, massaging them gently. The contact heats your body blissfully.
He pulls away from the kiss to look at you. “Feeling better already?”
“A little,” you reply meekly.
Seungcheol gives one last squeeze to your breasts before pushing your shirt up. A gasp leaves your mouth when the cold air hits your bare torso. You try to pull the material down, but he keeps a firm grip on it.
“Kinda wanna press you against the window like this,” he murmurs.
“C-Cheol!” you scold.
“What?” he asks, suppressing his wicked grin.
“People will for sure see us then! Plus,” you begin to pout more, “it’ll be cold.”
“You’ll warm up when I start fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”
Your face heats at his vulgar words. You’re not used to people speaking in such a way, but you can’t deny the way your walls tighten in anticipation.
“Think about it,” he suggests, then leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.
Your lips part at the sudden difference in temperature on your chest. Seungcheol’s warm mouth feels so good.
Your hands move to play with his hair, fingers tugging on the strands occasionally.
Seungcheol pulls you closer to him as his eyes flutter close. He’s licking and sucking your nipple like it’s his favorite way to pass time. The sight itself makes you moan.
You can feel Seungcheol’s bulge press against your core, which makes your arousal pool in your underwear more. Hesitantly, you start grinding your hips against him. Though when Seungcheol hums against your chest and pulls away with a soft pop, you stop moving. Your hands fall away from his hair to land on his shoulders.
“Don’t be shy, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he reassures, giving your lips a quick kiss for encouragement.
“I-Is this right?” you question, moving your hips again albeit a bit slower.
He grins. “Whatever makes you feel good is right. Do you feel good right now?”
“I—kinda.”
“Kinda? Is there something else you want?” he asks, carefully pulling your shirt down and cupping your face.
Your eyes dart away from his brown ones. It seems you used all your bold moves earlier.
Seungcheol begins to glide his thumb across your cheeks lovingly.
“Show me what you want,” he instructs gently and offers one of his hands.
You glance at it. Seungcheol has used this tactic several times in the past. It’s a way for you to take charge in your own way. It isn’t that he makes you uncomfortable, but it takes time to get used to things you’ve never experienced before.
You’re grateful Seungcheol is so understanding. Some of your exes became exes for being the opposite.
Taking his hand, you push it down until it rests against his crotch.
Seungcheol smiles. “My good girl just wants to get to the main course, hm?”
His light attitude lessens your nervousness.
“Need to feel you,” you murmur.
“I need to feel you too, baby girl,” he agrees and leans up to capture your lips.
You lax at the feeling of his plush lips, hands sliding down his arms to play with his shirt. Seungcheol eases your mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside as he grabs your wrists. He guides your hands under his shirt slowly. You feel his abs tense momentarily at the cool touch of your skin.
Once your hands are settled against his chest, he releases you. You take the opportunity to rub your hands along his torso, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath your palms.
After a while, you finally pull away with a gasp.
“You give the best kisses,” Seungcheol compliments.
You grin. “I’ve gotten better?”
“You were never bad to begin with,” he chuckles. “But yes, you have improved.”
Your smile grows at his words.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he huffs as if it’s too much for him to bear.
“Now, we better hurry before help arrives,” he says and gently lays you back on the car seats.
The blankets get tangled, but Seungcheol pulls them away and leaves them on the floorboard. You supposed you don’t need them at the moment anyway.
Seungcheol nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing your skin. His hands grab ahold of your sweatpants and pull them down. Before you can complain about the coldness, one of his hands slither between your legs to circle your clit.
“Gotta’ prep you a bit, okay? Then I’ll give you want, angel.”
You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders.
Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses against your neck, but you can tell his attention is elsewhere.
His fingers glide down and slip between your folds.
“I could slide in so easily right now with how wet you are,” he moans.
“T-then do it,” you say,
He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Carefully, he slides one finger inside your dripping hole.
You bite your lip and remind yourself to relax.
Seungcheol stops kissing and simply rests his head against your shoulder. His eyes are closed as he pumps the single digit a few times before adding a second. You moan softly, legs spreading a little wider despite the small space.
“Doing okay?” he asks after a while.
“Yes,” you reply. “More, please.”
Seungcheol nods and slips in a third finger. However, not long after, he adds a fourth. He moves them slowly, not seeing the need to speed up when he’s saving that for later.
A gasp escapes at the stretch. It feels good, but each pump of his fingers makes you eager for his cock.
“Cheol,” you beg.
“Okay,” he says and removes his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and licks up your arousal. The lewd sight makes you want to look away, but you’re also mesmerized by how satisfied Seungcheol looks.
“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to eat you out for hours. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, then pushes his sweatpants down.
You turn your head and bite your lip. Seungcheol laughs and leans over you, arms caging you in.
“That a yes, princess?”
You peep at him and nod. “Yes.”
“That a girl,” he praises and pecks your lips.
“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he asks while aligning his tip to your entrance.
You nod, used to him saying that, but you know he means it.
Seungcheol waits for a second before easing inside. He slides in smoothly from how soaked you are. A small mewl comes from you. Although he prepped you, he’s still big and stretches you more than his fingers did.
As usual, the first few seconds are… indescribable. It doesn’t hurt as much, but you still need to get used to his size. The stretch is a mix of pleasure and pain—though the pleasure is more prominent.
“Oh, fuck,” Seungcheol curses while pushing more of his length inside.
“Feels good, Cheol,” you moan when he presses himself fully against you.
Seungcheol eyes flicker from where you’re connected to your eyes.
“Tell me when,” he instructs and rests his forehead on yours.
A minute ticks by until you tell him he can move. Seungcheol doesn’t waste another second and starts slowly gliding in and out of you. The sensation causes you to fill the car with your whimpers.
The coldness in the car seems to fade away with each thrust. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting a little stuffy; however, your focus is solely on Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your walls heavenly.
His pace eventually increases as you relax more. He continues for some time until a certain sharp snap of his hips has you crying out.
“Shit, I—” Seungcheol begins to apologize.
“Again, Cheol. Please. Again.”
“A-are you sure? Did I hurt you?” he questions.
“No,” you beg with a cry. “Need that again.”
“Fuck, okay, baby,” he rasps.
Seungcheol pulls out most of the way then slams his hips forward. You gasp his name and clench around him. It’s a sight he wants to capture in his mind forever.
The heat in the car has increased and sweat beads are forming on both of your bodies.
You tug off your shirt and bra to get some air.
Seungcheol moans at the sight of your exposed breasts and moves a hand to grip one. He massages it in his hand and continues to snap his hips. He feels like he’s losing his mind slowly at how good you feel wrapped around him, but he wants to try something different.
“Come here, angel,” he huffs and pulls out.
Your lips dip down as you whine at the emptiness. Seungcheol coos at you, adjusting positions so he’s sat with you above him. He discarded both of your sweatpants fully in the process. He then guides his hard cock between your legs and slowly eases you down.
You moan loudly as your pussy gets filled once more. Your hands clutch his shoulders for stability and try not to get nervous at the new position. It’s not often you’re on top.
Sensing your worry, Seungcheol gives you a reassuring massage on your hips.
“I’ll guide you, okay?”
You nod.
Seungcheol smiles, lifting you until his tip remains then pushing you back down carefully.
Your eyes drift from his face to where you both connect. Seeing how his cock disappears makes you clench around him. The sight is arousing, and a sense of pride fills your chest seeing how much easier you can take him now.
Without realizing it, your hips begin to move. You start with the pace Seungcheol has set but gradually move faster. You become addicted to the feel of his cock against your walls and need to feel it more.
It’s not until your thighs start to burn that you slow in realization.
“Don’t slow down,” Seungcheol groans, eyes hooded as he rests his head back on the seat. “Fucking me so good, baby. I knew you could do it.”
“A-are you close?” you question, a little shy.
He hums while nodding.
“Keep moving,” he says, guiding your hips up and down. Seeing how fucked out he is spurs your movements to quicken. Eventually, Seungcheol’s hands relax on your body while he watches you bounce on his cock.
“Fuck,” he curses lowly, eyes taking in your body above his. Your tits look so good and your pussy feels so tight.
Unable to stop himself, he grips your hips firmly and starts thrusting upwards.
You gasp, mouth hanging open as he chases his high. The sound of skin slapping skin feels loud in your ears, but part of you loves it. You love hearing and feeling how fast he’s sliding his cock in you. You love knowing you’re making him feel so good.
Seungcheol slams into your once more, a guttural groan escaping his mouth as his cum fills your insides. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts before he stills completely. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are shut as he floats back down.
You try not to move, but your orgasm is near, and you need a release.
Seungcheol’s eyes peel open after a few more seconds.
“You need help, angel?” he asks when he sees you trying not to squirm.
You pull your lower lip between your teeth and nod.
Seungcheol plants a kiss on your forehead, then adjusts your bodies. He leans against one of the doors while sitting you between his legs, back to his chest. He hooks one of your legs over his to spread you open. You’re so focused on Seungcheol that it doesn’t cross your mind how exposing the position is from the opposing window’s view.
Seungcheol runs his hands down your body, briefly squeezing your breasts before he slides them between your legs. He circles your clit with one hand and uses the other to slide into your dripping hole. He pumps his fingers a few times before pulling out to look at his hand.
His digits are covered with a mix of your arousal and his cum. The sight makes you squeeze your legs and for Seungcheol to moan deeply behind you.
“So messy just for me,” he murmurs, then plunges his fingers back into your cunt.
He moves both his hands quickly, bringing forth your impending orgasm.
“Play with your tits, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Don’t forget to make yourself feel good.”
You adhere to his request and bring your hands to squeeze your breasts. Your head falls back against his chest, moans spilling out of you nonstop as you pinch and fondle yourself while Seungcheol continues to circle and pump his fingers.
Seungcheol’s name falls from your mouth incoherently as you climax, your body slightly jerking in his hold as pleasure washes over your body.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises in your ear. His fingers still move quickly until he feels you start to relax.
Seungcheol angles your face so he can kiss you. He holds you close, one hand pressing against your tummy while the other keeps your head in place. The kiss is sloppy, but neither of you care.
“You still cold?” he teases after he pulls away.
“No,” you mumble, hiding your face from him.
He laughs and leans down to grab your clothes. “If you are, we can go another round.”
“M-maybe we should wait. The towing people should be here soon,” you say.
Seungcheol nudges you and mumbles, “Arms.”
You comply, lifting your arms slightly so he can put on your clothes. He kisses your shoulder blade after he’s done. You both slide on your sweatpants again, then cuddle once more.
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About fifteen minutes pass when bright lights shine nearby.
The worker eyes you both—taking in the fogged windows and disheveled clothing. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Nevertheless, they say nothing and get started with trying to fix the vehicle.
Maybe the road trip didn’t go as planned, and maybe you’ll miss the festival, but at least you had some fun nonetheless.
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taglist (tbh i forgot abt this but i will start doing it now! sorry!): @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikhal-blog, @lithelust, @doom-fics
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holy-puckslibrary · 8 months
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━ 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞. 
main masterlist
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pairing(s) — JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader (est. relationship) wc — 1.5k synopsis — jamie can’t keep his hands to himself, and neither can his girlfriend. (prompted on this ask)
note — title’s from summertime by bon jovi + yes, this is a re-upload from the main blog (@holy-pucks) since nothing of mine posted there shows up in the tags. if you’ve already liked or shared that post, i would really appreciate you doing the same with this new one :) thx a million in advance! xx 
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specific content warnings listed below the cut.
cw — alcohol consumption/tipsy!reader x tipsy!jamie, accidental exhibitionism (jamie getting handsy at a bonfire bc he just can't resist lol), suggestive lang + innuendo, + general fluffy filth but nothing super explicit really, pretty tame for me tbh 
jamie drysdale has never been so pleased to have lost a fight in his entire life.
he didn't think it'd get cold enough to warrant lugging around an extra blanket (meaning him, not you—he's a gentleman). you thought otherwise, and pestered him until there was one neatly folded in the backseat.
objectively speaking, jamie was right; it wasn't even chilly. he was actually a little warm, if he was being honest, but that had a lot more to do with his wandering, beer-soaked mind than the weather or a superfluous layer.
—and he had a tent in his pants to prove it.
it's his own fault. he pulled you into his lap when there were more than enough lawn chairs scattered around the blazing fire, knowing full-well you fidget when you're tipsy. jamie knows you can't sit still to save your life, yet he sat you across his thighs anyway. and now he—and his raging hard-on—are paying the price.
he isn't embarrassed he's turned on, that's not the problem. that's never the problem. you've been dating for years, and anyone who's shocked by the effect you have on him has bigger problems than jamie's attraction to his own girlfriend.
it's the fact that he's about ten seconds away from pulling your suit to the side and rutting into you in the middle of a public beach with his friends not even a foot away.
someone across the half-moon crowd says something that makes you laugh—makes you wiggle. jamie's hands tighten on your hips to keep you still, but, by this point in the night, his body is too lax to be of much help. if anything, the impassioned touch eggs you on, and it isn't long before his hips are moving to match your mostly-involuntary movements.
jamie hisses through gritted teeth, jaw clenched so tight it aches. "baby, quit it—please."
fluttering half-lidded eyes meet his, clock his internal struggle, and immediately twinkle with mischief. under the guise of shifting your attention, you rub the outside of your thigh against the bulge threatening to tear his trunks.
"quit what?" you ask with a demure smile, your hands looping themselves around his neck. warm fingertips play with the feathered locks tickling his sunburnt neck, making him shiver.
"you know what," he glares. "i don't know when we'll get back home, and you're driving me insane."
"touch me here."
blinking in disbelief, he balks. "w-what?"
"touch. me. here."
each word is punctuated with a chaste peck to his ever-reddening cheek. the succinct affection bounces you in his lap, and jamie can't help but slide his hands further beneath the sandy blanket. at first, to halt the infuriating friction but, like usual, once his hands wander he just can't stop. consequences—and shyness—be damned.
"s'not a good idea." jamie nips your jaw, dotting a line of warm kisses along your neck, stopping once his nose brushes your ear. "my baby's loud as shit, and i'd rather not have an audience."
you swat his chest in offense, but giggle nonetheless. "am not!"
"are too." he smiles up at you.
"i can be quiet," you huff, determination furrowing your brow.
jamie reaches up to smooth the crease with his thumb. you catch his arm and press a sweet peck to the inside of his wrist. he shudders.
you hum into his skin, "i think you're projecting."
"that right?" your boyfriend feigns ignorance, amused.
"let me prove it," you whisper before leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. with your forehead flush to his, you try again. "please, jamie. i can't wait anymore—and i certainly can't wait until t strikes out with whoever he's obsessed with this week."
jamie snorts.
you make a solid point; it could be another ten minutes or upwards of two hours. his guess was as good as any—trevor himself included. jamie's really starting to hate that him finally fucking his own girlfriend hinges on his best friend's ability—or inability—to seal the deal.
"you make even a peep, and i stop. got it?"
what's the worst that could happen if he indulges you a bit? no one's even paying attention to either of you, anyway.
you nod, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. jamie tugs it free, fingertip dancing over the fresh indentations. your tongue slips out to tease his sun-soaked skin, and it isn't long before the digit is flush to your hot tongue.
jamie's eyes are almost black with lust as they watch your lips welcome and release his finger over and over again. your eyelids fall as he slips into a trance, mesmerized by your mouth.
"words, baby. gimme words," he prods, the words barely audible.
you surrender his hand with a faint pop, blinking down at him like you're already teetering on the precipice. "no sounds or you stop—i got it," you parrot. "now are you going to touch me?"
"needy, needy, baby," jamie teases after stealing a kiss. "i've spoiled you rotten, haven't i? can't even go a couple hours without begging me to touch you... s'alright, i can barely keep my hands of you. 'specially when i've got you sittin' all pretty in my lap like this."
"—jamie, please, just... just touch me already—need t'feel you."
chuckling to himself, jamie mercifully pushes the sodden material out of the way. he nearly moans at what he finds.
how much of it is from the evening dip you took with a couple of the other girlfriends, it's hard to tell, but he'd put good money on it being little to none. no, the damp patch growing in his lap is all you. sweet and warm, and perfectly you.
you gasp when he collects some of the escaped arousal with a few of his fingers. jamie raises a brow in your direction and you cover your mouth apologetically. he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. you're trying so hard to keep quiet, it's adorable.
"—haven't even done anything and you're already breaking your promise," he chides. "how am i supposed to give you what you want when you're already misbehaving?"
"the other one," you breathe. confused, jamie hesitates. "give me your other hand."
you fish his free hand out from between your bodies and bring it up to your mouth. his eyes bulge out of their sockets once your intentions become obvious; you mean to silence yourself by sucking on his middle and marriage as he fucks you with the other hand. your back is mostly to the group, but he's still paranoid as all hell.
yet, jamie can't bring himself to deny you—or himself.
"you're gonna be the death of me," he groans as your head dips.
too turned on to care, jamie relents and slips a gentle finger into you. your eyes pinch shut, teeth catching on his other hand, but no sound leaves you. as a reward for your good behavior, he sinks in even further, until he's knuckle-deep at both ends.
his movements are much slower than normal, but, somehow, it doesn't matter. jamie's thumb seeks out your clit, sensitive and swollen despite its neglect, and he traces lazy circles between deep, measured thrusts. all the while, he mouths at your neck with little concern for what evidence he might leave behind. jamie's sole focus is making you feel as good as he does right now with his half-naked, hot-as-hell girlfriend writhing in his lap, her pretty pussy clenching around his lucky fingers.
"—j-jamie," you warble around his drenched hand, hips bucking into the other with what little leverage you have positioned like this. "—close, s'close."
oh, he knows. he can tell. jamie knows your body better than you do; he's a diligent student.
"are you, baby?" jamie can't resist a bit of taunting. you're too far gone to push back. "poor thing, what do you need from me? tell me what you need to get there."
you're slow to answer, overwhelmed by the sensations attacking your mind from all angles. somewhere along the line, a second finger was added... and then a third. the burning stretch aches so good your vision blurs.
jamie, jamie, jamie—the beginning, middle, and end of your thoughts—jamie, through and though. he's everywhere, but it's still not enough.
"my n-neck," you eventually gasp. "please—kiss my neck again."
your boyfriend is more than happy to oblige. lips latched to the tender spot just below your ear, jamie lets his hand take control of the pace; he's no longer content to drag this out. it's been a long day, and all he wants is to watch his pretty girlfriend fall to pieces in his lap.
your peak is ushered in by a series of pitiful little whines and whimpers, mostly muffled by his spit-stained hand, but jamie doesn't have the heart—or the sanity—to chastise you for it. if he had it his way, his mind would play those beautiful, broken sounds on a loop.
but the reverie is too good to last. it always is.
"get a room, you two!"
a chorus of laughter and vulgar remarks succeed trevor's call-out. and, hot under the collar, jamie's cheeks burn pink as he buries his face in the safety of your neck.
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pucked-bunnie · 3 months
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shocks and surprises⎜e.pettersson
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pairings: elias pettersson x reader ⎜ft platonic quinn x reader prompt: "just tell me what you want from me." genre: romance ⎜fluff warnings: unexpected pregnancy ⎜ stressed reader ⎜ supportive elias⎜descriptions of mild panic attacks ⎜ synopsis: you can't help but be proud when elias gets invited to all star weekend - a little surprise puts a small spanner in the works word count: 2.6k authors note:  I already had this little Elias story planned but a prompt request I got fit in perfectly so i merged the two - it's short and sweet so I hope you all enjoy!
(unedited)
“Mother fucker.” The swear words slip out as you stare down at the plastic stick in your hand - the two bright red lines staring you in the face. 
“Everything okay in there?” Elias’s voice carries through the closed bathroom door, the wood creaking as he leans his weight against it. “We have to get going if we’re going to make it to the airport in time.” He says softly, as you take a deep breath, staring down at the test one more time before throwing it into the bin next to you - standing to flush the toilet and wash your hands.  
“Baby, are you sure you’re okay? You do look a little pale.” Elias asks as he lifts his hand to press against your forehead, frowning before he drops it back to his side. “You feel a little warm.”
“I’m okay, Elias.” You reassure him, a small smile stretching on your face as you move past him to grab your bags from beside the bed. “Just have a bit of a tummy ache is all.” You explain, your boyfriend understanding your explanation with a tight nod, before grabbing his own suitcase off the floor, motioning for you to lead the way out of your apartment. 
You don’t know why your first reaction is to pretend that nothing was wrong.
To pretend like those little red lines had never happened. 
But this weekend was supposed to be about him. 
Elias keeps his hand on your thigh the whole Uber ride to the airport, his fingers tapping gently against the fabric of your pants, the both of you looking out your respective windows, your brain spinning a hundred miles an hour as you glance over at your boyfriend. 
You had met Elias through his teammate Quinn - you and Quinn had known each other for years, meeting back in high school and becoming fast friends. In his second year in the NHL Quinn had invited you to come watch one of his games, wanting to catch up when he found out you were moving to Vancouver for work - and it was in a small bar near his shared apartment you had met the quiet swede, Elias being Quinn’s roommate and deciding to join the two of you for dinner after their game. 
Though your first few interactions left you confused about whether the stoic man actually enjoyed your company, it was the constant appearance of Elias whenever you were close by that helped you feel that maybe the tall hockey player did feel something towards you. 
As your Uber pulled up to the airport, Elias thanked him as the driver rounded the car to help you pull your luggage from the trunk, wishing the two of you well on your flight before pulling away from the curb. Elias watched you as you tugged your suitcase behind you, your eyes trained on the ground in front of you and your hand tight on the handle of your bag as the two of you made your way to the private boarding lounge with his teammate already waiting. 
He knew something was wrong from the moment you rushed to the bathroom after getting off the phone with your sister, your eyes wide and panicked as he followed after you. His concerns were confirmed when you slammed the door closed behind you, twisting the lock on the handle leaving him sitting at the end of your bed waiting for you to finish. 
“You made it.” Quinn’s voice snaps Elias’s gaze off you, one side of his mouth tilting as he nods his head in greeting to his fellow teammates, clapping his hand against Quinn’s outstretched one. 
“Only just.” Elias says jokingly, pulling away from his friend, watching as Quinn sweeps you up in a tight hug, the first genuine smile Elias had seen on your face all day, making his stomach flip like it always did when you smiled. 
It was his favourite thing to look at. 
“Looking as wonderful as always.” Quinn comments as he sets you back on the ground, his hands rubbing on your shoulder as he takes you in, despite seeing you less then two weeks ago. “Work must be keeping you busy, we haven’t seen you in ages.” He adds and you just nod, your mouth feeling dry. 
“She’s not feeling too good today.” Elias says as he slides up besides you - his arm sliding around your waist as he tugs you against his side, his warmth forcing your body to relax a little bit. Quinn shoots you a sympathetic smile as he turns to grab his bags when your flight attendant comes to gather you all for the private flight. 
“Let me take this.” Elias whispers as you reach for your suitcase, his hand grabbing hold of the handle first as he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek before moving forwards with both your suitcases in hand. Elias reaches out for you again as he hands your luggage off to the baggage workers standing besides the plane as you make your way onto the tarmac, his hand gripping your tightly as he leads you up the steps behind him, the two of you quickly finding a set of available seats before settling into the comfortable leather. 
The group let out an excited yell as the flight attendant makes her rounds with glasses of champagne - each of them swiping a glass as they wait for the pilot to prepare for take off. “Ma’am would you like a glass?” The attendant as she reaches your seats, already placing the glass in front of you before you get a chance to answer. 
You can feel your heart drop as you look at the sparkling glass in front of you. 
Your stomach turns as you feel nausea rise in your throat. 
Your breathing quickening as your eyes glaze over, watering just slightly as the heaviness in your belly. 
You know you’re overreacting but the sight of the alcohol in front of you is a reminder of the secret you aren’t quite ready to share - a short panic quickly interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend talking. 
“Would you mind switching this for a glass of apple juice?” Elias asks the attendant softly as she makes her way back down the aisle, his hand swiping the alcohol off the table in front of you as he hands it back to her. She nods quickly, taking the full glass down to the back of the plane swiftly, returning with a similar glass with a much less bubbly beverage. Elias nods his thanks to her as he places the glass back down in front of you without a word. 
“You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?” Elias speaks so softly you can barely hear him over the chatter of his teammates and their families.  His hand finds its normal place on your thigh, his finger rubbing softly, reassuringly against your leg as you nod your head, your words still stuck in your throat, as the pilot announces over the intercom that the flight is ready for take off. 
Despite being a very quiet person, Elias has always been incredibly physical. He always needed some part of him to be touching some part of you to be content - his hand commonly finding purchase on your thigh or on the small of your back, but his favourite was when your two hands would clasp around one of his, squeezing tightly. 
The flight from Vancouver to Toronto took around four and a half hours - most of the excitement had worn off after about an hour, everyone settling into their seats and the cabin lights dimming slightly as everyone relaxed.
Elias’s gaze is trained on you, your eyes closed, head leaning gently against his arm and both of your hands wrapped around his, his oversized hoodie thrown on to fight the cold of winter. 
“She’s been quieter than usual.” Quinn comments, as he stops his walk down the aisle of the plane watching Elias watch you. 
“Somethings wrong, but she isn’t ready to tell me yet.” Elias says to his captain, his free hand reaching over to move some loose hair out of your face, your nose wrinkling at the small tickle on the side of your face. “I’m just worried she’s holding it all in, it’s gotta come out eventually.” He adds, Quinn nodding at his teammates words. 
“She’ll tell you, she probably just needs time.” Elias finally moves his gaze of you to glance over to his friends, a thankful expression on his face, as Quinn claps him on the shoulder before moving back towards his seat. 
Elias doesn’t sleep the whole flight - one hand scrolling through his phone the other still trapped in between yours as the flight attendant announces that landing would begin shortly. Elias tucks his phone into his jumper pocket, before reaching his now empty hand to gently cup your face, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. 
“Baby? We’re about to land.” He whispers quietly, your eyebrows furrowing in a frown as you let out a soft groan. “You need to wake up, princess.” He says again, chuckling as one of your hands releases his to swat away his hand on your face. 
“I’m awake.” You huff as you swat at his hand again, pulling your face out of his reach, letting go of his hand to rub at your eyes - the lights in the cabin turning back on as the plane makes its descent. 
“Sleep well?” He questions softly, your head nodding as you pout. Elias’s face lights up with a fond smile as he adds, “You can sleep more at the hotel, the event doesn’t begin until tomorrow.” 
As the plane hits the tarmac, you pick up your phone from your lap, turning off airplane mode - the screen lighting up with missed messages. 
‘So…what did the test say?’  The message from your sister, puts a new frown on your face, tucking your phone quickly into the hoodies pocket before Elias can get a glimpse at the message. 
‘It’s okay if it’s positive and it’s okay if it’s negative.’ 
‘Have you and Elias talked about this yet?’ 
‘You’re probably flying now, but call me if you need anything.’ 
The messages continue pinging from your phone, Elias raising a brow as he glances down at the device in your pocket. “Are you gonna answer those?” You just shake your head, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as your eyes start to water. 
Not again. 
Everything is blurred by the rushing of your minds, Elias’s hand in yours the only thing keeping your body moving as you try to focus on breathing slowly - the voices around you sounding muffled as Elias wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you against him tightly. 
“We’re gonna go straight to the hotel, she's feeling pretty bad.” You hear your boyfriend explain to your friends as he grabs your luggage rushing you off the tarmac and into the first taxi that stops. 
The ride to the hotel is silent, your hands clasped together, your gaze not leaving the floor - Elias watches your closely as he takes the lead, checking the two of you in quickly, guiding you up into the hotel room without a hitch, leaving the suitcases by the door as he follows you into your hotel room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Elias asks as he watches you wander around the room, your teeth nibbling on the side of your thumb, a nervous habit Elias hadn’t seen in a while. 
“Huh?” You ask, your head snapping up and your arms dropping to your sides - your gaze flicking around the hotel room in confusion before focusing back on your boyfriend. 
He looks tired - is all you can think as you take him in - a lump getting caught in your throat. 
“I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” He explains, his hands reaching out for yours, pulling you to stand between his legs as he looks up at you. “What is going on?” He asks again, expecting the way you let out a choked sob. 
He was expecting the way the tears slipped down your cheeks. 
He was definitely expecting the way you try to stop crying almost immediately, feeling ashamed at showing your overwhelming emotions. 
“It’s okay to be upset” He says softly, reaching up to gently swipe the tears off your face, “But I want to understand why you’re so upset.” Your tears fall harder at the soft expression on his face. 
The words still seem impossible to get out. 
“Baby, I need you to be super honest with me.” He starts when he realizes you aren’t managing to speak yet, your panic still in control. “Are you pregnant?” 
Everything stops. 
The tears, the gasping for air, the constant whirring in your head. 
“What?” You can’t help but ask, confused as to how Elias had figured it out so quickly. 
“I saw the test box in the garbage bin before we left - and you haven’t had your period in two months.” He explains, his hands smoothing up and down your arms as he speaks. 
“How do you even know that?” Your voice is a whisper, a soft smile blooming on Elias’s face as you finally manage to speak. 
“I have a tracker on my phone - I just wanna make sure I know when to make you comfortable.” He says gently. 
He pauses for a moment, watching you suck in deep gulps of air before asking again, “are you pregnant?” He watches as your face crumples again, your head nodding your answer as he pulls you into his body, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he tries to soothe you. 
“When were you going to tell me?” He asks, patient for your answer. 
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” You answer, your head tucked against his shoulder as you manage to calm down. 
“Why would this ruin the weekend? Isn’t this good news?” Elias asks, his hand stroking the back of your head softly, as he rocks the two of your side to side. 
“Is it?” You ask back, pulling your head away from his shoulder to glance down at him. “We’ve never even talked about something like this happening before, Elias.” He just nods, understanding your concerns as his hands move to stroke against your back. 
“Is it something you want?” He asks, the question making you falter slightly. 
“I don’t know.” 
“That’s okay.” He affirms, smiling up at you. “We don’t have to know everything right now, but I don’t think this is a bad thing.” His words are gentle as per usual, the sassy man always had a sweet spot for you - always knowing what to say and when to say it. 
“Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you.” He explains, “If you’re not ready then we can figure something out - I want whatever you want.” He continues, leaning forwards to press a kiss against your wet cheek, your head nodding furiously as you take in what he says. 
“Okay.” You speak quietly, returning his growing grin. 
“Okay.” He responds, his arms pulling you back to his chest in a crushing hug - the excitement radiating off him. “I hope it’s a girl.” He adds quietly, your heart racing as images of Elias with a little girl on his shoulders race through your mind, tears starting to well up in your eyes again. 
“Pregnancy hormones really are no joke.” Elias chirps, his thumbs wiping at the fresh tears with a chuckle as you smack at his chest.
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lulublack90 · 3 months
Text
Prompt 8 - Teenagers
@wolfstarmicrofic July 8, word count 868
Sirius flopped dramatically onto Remus’s bed. 
“Get off, Padfoot!” Remus grumbled, nudging him with his feet. He was too tired to outright shove him, but he was in no mood to deal with him. Everything ached. It had been a bad moon last night and all he wanted was to sleep. But the others didn’t know about his furry little secret, and he had to keep it that way. 
He had a few half-healed wounds on his back and chest and having Sirius bounce on his bed had definitely knocked the scabs loose on a few. “Can’t you go find Prongs or Wormtail and annoy them?” He sank back into his pillow, unable to hold himself up any more. 
“I’d rather annoy you,” Sirius grinned at him, flipping over so he was inches away from Remus. 
Remus reared back, his neck cracking angrily as his body protested at the sudden movement. “Hey, calm down, Moony,” Sirius reached out to him, but Remus didn’t want to be touched. 
“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” Remus screamed. He felt the magic leaving his body before he could do anything about it. 
Sirius flew from Remus’s bed and collided with the bedpost of Peter’s bed. “Sirius, Sirius, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” Remus was crying as he dragged himself to Sirius’s side. “Sirius, I’m so sorry,” His hands flailed in front of him, not daring to touch Sirius until he said it was okay. 
“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay Remus, see.” Sirius cradled Remus’s head in his hands, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “I should have known better not to push you after a full moon, I just wanted to take your mind off it.” 
Remus froze, his eyes widening in horror when he realised what Sirius had just said. This was it then? It had finally happened, someone had figured it out. He supposed it had only been a matter of time before someone did. He’d have to pack his belongings and go back to that damp Welsh cottage where his Father couldn’t bear to look at him and his Mother didn’t understand. He’d be locked in that silver-lined bunker Lyall had dug in their garden, where he was chained to the floor and left until the morning. His mother cried every time Lyall brought him back into the kitchen and attempted to heal the claw marks that marred his skin. Well, Hogwarts was good while it lasted. He’d managed a year and a half at least. He wondered if they’d snap his wand. He thought he’d freak out when this happened, but he just felt sad. Sad that he’d be alone again and that he’d lose the friends he held so dear all over something he couldn’t even help. “Come on let’s get you back into bed, yeah,” Sirius said gently. Remus shook his head, snapping himself out of his tumultuous thoughts. 
“What do you mean? I need to start packing and owl my Dad to come get me.” He started to collect his books and parchment, tossing them into his open trunk. His legs wobbled, he needed to lie down. He bit back a sob when he thought about the long walk and all the stairs up to the owlery that he’d need to climb once he’d finished packing. 
Sirius crossed the room and slammed Remus’s trunk shut. 
“What in Merlin’s beard are you on about?!” Sirius asked, a bewildered expression on his face. 
“I’m leaving. Dumbledore said I can only stay as long as my secret is kept. You know, so it’s not a secret any more.” Remus explained, opening his trunk again. 
“No,” Sirius slammed the truck closed again. “It’s still a secret, I’m just in on it,” A crooked smile tugged at the side of his mouth. “That means you can stay.” He said determinedly. 
“You want me to stay? Sirius, I’m a werewolf, you can’t want me here,” The tears were back. Sirius wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Remus didn’t have the energy or the desire to make him let go. 
“I will always want you, Remus. You’re my best friend and I refuse to let them take you away from me.” He pulled his head back and looked into Remus’s watery eyes. “That and how cool is it to have a werewolf as a roommate?” 
Sirius started asking question after question about what it was like to be a werewolf. Where did he go each month? Who else knew? What did he do in the holidays? How long had he been a werewolf? He didn’t stop until James and Peter came looking for them, their hands piled high with sandwiches. 
“Aww, aren’t they cute,” James snickered when he saw Remus and Sirius sitting close to each other on Remus's bed, Sirius holding one of his hands. “We brought you lunch,” He told them as Remus snatched his hand back. “We know how ravenous you get after you transform,” James said matter-of-factly. Remus shook his head and got into bed. Nope, he thought, that is a problem for future Remus, as he let his exhausted body fall asleep, to the excited murmurings of his far, far too clever friends. 
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blooming-violets · 5 months
Note
Lucky number 13 for Nature please :)
Apple Of My Eye || TASM Smut
Nature - 13: beneath the shade of trees in the middle of an orchard
[TASM Peter Parker x Fem!Reader]
WC: 1k (look at me being short and sweet for once in my damn life)
A/N: Two weeks later and I'm finally start to write for these prompts! I'm a slow bitch, I can not help it.
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“It’s colder than I thought it would be out here.” She wrapped her arms around her sweater to try and hug out the chill in her bones. “I don’t think a skirt and tights was the right choice.” 
Peter’s eyes roved over her body, taking in her legs in the sheer tights, “I think they were the perfect choice.” 
That was easy for him to say. He had pants on. 
She rolled her eyes and dropped the wooden basket full of apples she was carrying at the base of the closest tree trunk. 
“Your opinions don’t count when you just like how my legs look in tights.” 
They had been wandering through this apple orchard for almost two hours. At this point in their trek, they had yet to come across any other pickers for over forty minutes. They were deep into the orchard. 
Probably lost. 
Though Peter would never admit that. 
With two full baskets of apples, they had more than enough for her mother, May, and themselves. 
She sighed and leaned against the knotted tree, kicking at a rotten apple with the toe of her leather boot. 
She was tired and hungry and cold and sick of picking apples. 
“Are you going to give me your jacket or are you just going to stare at my legs some more?”
Peter tore his eyes away from watching the way the light breeze made her skirt dance around her thighs. 
“What?”
She threw up her hands in exasperation, “Oh my god!”
He laughed, tackling her off the tree and wrapping his arms around her, dragging her straight to the dew covered grass. 
“I was kidding, baby, kidding!” He pinned her to the ground, keeping her shoulders locked down with his palms and sliding his knees around her hips.
She couldn’t remember the last time she laid on the grass without a blanket between her and the ground. 
“Peter!” She cried. “It’s wet down here. Cold and wet. Probably bugs. Worms. Little beetles. Oh god, spiders!”
“Shut up,” he laughed. He shoved his lips against hers to keep her quiet with a kiss. “It’s not cold. You’re just tired and cranky because we’ve been walking for approximately ten full business days while carrying all these apples.”
She nodded, huffing, “This is true. You got us lost. And now you’ve forced me to lay in Spider’s Ville. I bet they're crawling in my hair right now and laying their eggs.”
“The only spider down here is me and I’m already on top of you so you have nothing more to worry about.” 
That got her to drop a bit of her attitude, turning her head to the side, the wet grass tickling her cheek, as she tried to hide her smile.
“Don’t you turn away from me when I’m being cute,” he chastised. 
His hand slipped around her chin to gently turn her face back to him. He leaned down to kiss her again. 
Taking his time. 
Adoring her lips. 
He slid down her body and forced himself to a kneel between her legs.
“You don’t need my jacket. I have other ways of warming you up,” he whispered, throwing a wink at her. 
Her eyes widened in surprise, “Not here! We’re in public!”
Peter lifted his head and looked around, “Baby, please, all I see is you, me, and a shit ton of apples.” 
“Well they could come!” 
A suggestive smirk grew across his lips, “You’ll be the only cumming, don’t worry.” 
Before she could even protest, his hand was slipping up her shirt and covering her breast over her bra, while he attacked her mouth with fiery kisses. 
“Omph, Peter,” she tried to breathe through his kiss. “This is…is…oh.” 
He had tugged down the strap of her bra, loosening the cup, so he could access her nipple. As she spoke, he flicked a finger against it, causing her to forget her words. 
Her quiet moans in response were all he needed to keep going. 
His tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with hers, enticing her to play along. 
Her body relaxed, hands slowly moving up to run through his hair, as she submitted to his will. 
The moment he felt her give in, he was ready to go. 
Peter broke from the kiss to slide down her stomach. He trailed kisses over her sweater until he reached her skirt. 
“You said you didn’t like these tights, right?” He panted, eyes wide with mischief. “They weren’t keeping you warm enough?”
She silently nodded, still trying to catch her breath from his dizzying kiss. 
His hand disappeared under her skirt and a loud RIP followed. 
She gasped in shock, “Peter!” She felt the massive hole he had torn open in her crotch. “That’s your solution to me being cold? Ripping my clothes off me? Counter productive.”
He chuckled under his breath, already settling himself in the grass between her legs, laying on his stomach and smirking up at her. 
“Are you really that averse to my methods?”
She went quiet, hiding her need to smile. She wasn’t averse to it. She actually found it to be incredibly sexy. They were just a pair of cheap tights. 
But she refused to tell him that. 
He winked, reading her facial expressions anyway, “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and let me eat you like one of these apples.” 
Chilly hands gently hooked behind her knees, raising her legs and spreading them wider, so he could scoot his shoulders closer. Peter pushed aside her underwear and let out a happy sigh at the sight awaiting him. 
“I love this pussy,” he whispered to it. 
His head ducked under her skirt and descended to her inner thighs. He brought his lips to her soft, rolling flesh. He traveled with kisses over her stretch marks and blemishes that he would never allow her to even think about calling imperfections. 
There wasn’t a single inch of her skin that Peter didn’t adore. 
Whatever reservations she might have had moments ago fly away the moment his breath hit her where she needed it most. The anticipation of what was to come had stoked a spark of her desire into a roaring lame. She didn’t care where he took her just as long as his tongue was buried in her pussy. 
A whimper escaped her as they made contact. 
She felt him give a breathy, hot laugh against her, knowing just as well as she did that she was enjoying this more than she wanted to let on. 
He mumbled against her dewy lips, “You’re the cutest.”
He always loved hearing her whimper and moan despite all the fight she would put up. 
She would give in. 
Every time. 
Peter delved back in, licking a steady stripe over her soft folds, dipping into her for a taste before dragging his tongue back up to her clit. 
Tight, slow circles toyed with her sweet bud. 
His mintrations were reserved. Lazy. Like he was purposely taking his time to savor every stretching second. 
Languid and precise. 
But it wasn’t long until he had her mewling and writhing over him. 
The sounds urged him to hasten his work. 
He wrapped his arms around her legs, pushing them up, locking his arms over her stomach so he could hold her closer. His face buried into her. Head hidden under her skirt. Lapping his tongue over her soaked, sensitive folds. Tending to her clit, worshiping it between his lips, before sinking his tongue back into her for another taste. 
Heat rose over her body, warming her skin, pushing away the chill. 
At least he was correct in delivering on that front. She was no longer cold. 
Steaming hot. 
Panting. 
Her thighs trembled in Peter’s hold as pleasure seemed to pulse out from between them. 
She let out a long, gasping moan. Trying to be silent should anyone be nearby but unable to keep it in. 
Peter was too good with his tongue. 
He responded with a guttural moan of his own from under her skirt, eating her out like a starving man unabashedly enjoying his first meal in days. 
The vibrations of such a low, growling moan spread across her clit and sent shivers up her arching spine. 
Her fists clenched at clumps of wet grass. 
Feeling it give way in her hands. Ripping up. Dirt sinking under her nails. 
She should be embarrassed how quickly Peter could take her from complaining about the cold to forcing her to orgasm but she couldn’t focus on anything besides that building pleasure. 
His tongue pulled breathy whimpers from her lips. 
Easing her closer and closer to that beautiful release. 
“P-Peter!’ She gasped, letting out a desperate, needy whine. “Feels…so good!”
He was mumbling something against her lips but his words were muffled out by her cunt. 
His grip around her belly tightened. 
He knew she was almost there. 
Hanging on by a quivering thread. 
Peter turned all his attention to making love to her clit.
Her hips canted, arching off the ground. 
Peter anticipated the move, shifting to follow her, knowing her well enough to predict where her body will go. Never letting the latch his mouth had on her pussy slip for even a second. 
Her calves shook under her weight, holding her up, following her trembling thighs as her body gave in. 
Her hand slammed across her mouth to stifle the shriek she desperately wanted to let rip. Letting it fall against her heavy, clamped hand instead.
Smelling the earthy dirt mixed with juicy apples against her fingers. 
The faint smell of sex lingering in the wind. 
Wet grass clinging to her skin. 
Her clothes, damp. 
Her body, on fire. 
Peter stayed dutifully to her spasming pussy, letting her ride it out, sucking out every last drop she had to give, until she came crashing back to earth. 
He lapped through her folds with moaning growls of delight as he cleaned her with his tongue. 
It was only when she couldn’t take it anymore, far too sensitive post orgasm, that she shoved him out from under her skirt with her hand. 
He emerged with a lopsided, glistening grin that screamed a silent “I told you so”. 
It was only them and the apples. 
Not a single person wandered on to the erotic feast he had devoured. 
She threw a sweatered arm over her eyes to block out the sight of red apples against the deep blue sky. 
Breathing heavily.
Feeling uncomfortable wet down below. 
She felt him crawling over her. The weight of his stomach pressed against her. 
His salty lips urged her out of hiding with his tongue gliding into her mouth.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply. 
Peter’s eyes were shining, proud of the work he had done this lazy afternoon.
He didn’t care for her ripped tights or soaked underwear or the fact that they were both covered in wet grass stains. 
All he cared about was her and making sure her mood had shifted. 
She shook her head up at him, still not fully believing he had suckered her into this.
“I love you to my core,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the apple of my eye. You’re so a-peel-ing to me, baby. Let’s go home and live apple-y ever after.” 
“I literally hate you so much right now.” 
His laughter was enough to prove her statement false. 
She loved him. 
Even if he was a dork.
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zoropookie · 1 month
Text
WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — SEVEN
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YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!
chapter six — chapter eight
soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader
Okay. You're cooked.
Not because of the fact that you were clawing at the ceiling of a trunk desperate for some type of out or chance to run, no, you had faith that you'd still come up standing. You're cooked because the only thing your head could viably think of was seeing if the body had something valuable. It gnawed in your brain—maybe he had something of use, and your key to survival was staring you right in the face!
Prompting you further to actually...touch the dead man again. You don't want to do this, but if you have to check the body for something, then...maybe this was your way out? The idea of having to do anything with a corpse made your skin crawl. The cold and lifelessness of its eyes despite the dark trunk made your skin crawl, heart beating quicker at its general eeriness.
You felt your bottom lip wobble, overwhelmed with your possibilities. Despite it, you kept them lightly pursed. You cringed while you reached out for the man, swallowing the incoming bile threatening to surface in your throat while you blindly patted at him. Your fingers trembled uncontrollably, feeling unbearably strangled by how cramped the space was, darkness pressing in on you while you explored what you knew what blood on your fingers and nausea crawling in your esophagus.
There was a light sense of death, and while you smelled what clung to the air thickly, the body's pockets were all empty aside from the inside jacket pocket. It contained a small ring of keys, the steely texture of them you gripped onto in reaction, pulling them out. You cringed when you grazed against the body's still bloody wound soaking his shirt.
You held the keys closer to yourself, fidgeting with them in your hands to investigate. They were all standard sized, apart from the one you moved to next. It felt thicker, like a key to something else. You couldn't put your finger on what it could be to, but you knew it could have been used as a weapon if you needed it.
But then...there was a different possibility you were thinking of, in particular. One that could get rid of all of this in an instant, one that can wipe the look off your offender's face. With your bound hands, you kept fumbling the keys in your hand to unlock the trunk. Each one a different shape and size from what you could fit inside of the trunk's lock.
Clinging onto that sliver of hope that you were carrying with confidence was to no avail, even the thicker key didn't fit, but this time you were stiffer. It was pretty obvious that no matter what you did, that guy was a step ahead of you constantly. You weren't going to get out of this by lifting your legs up and expecting someone to wipe your ass.
You needed someone to open it from the outside. You needed someone to know that you were in this trunk, but since he was driving, it was nearly impossible to even do that without him knowing about it. The only choice was brute force, at this point.
You gripped onto the keys with both hands tied, specifically holding the thicker key, and you gritted your teeth. You didn't know why you were so willing to get out of this, especially since it's not like you were going back to a better situation in comparison to you, but you weren't going to die. You weren't going down with a fight.
Moving yourself so your back leaned against the bod, you tried to ignore the body and it's sudden weight that you felt. You squeezed your eyes, a surge of pain hitting you again. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, dude," You whispered before lurching your wounded legs up to your cheat, striking the top of the trunk as hard as you could without hurting yourself. You felt the stings of pain along your entire body, your muscles screaming as you got more and more aggressive with your kicking.
The vehicle swayed lightly at first, the motion almost unnoticeable, like a small boat that was being nudged by gentle currents. But eventually, he noticed the movements became more pronounced— sharp, erratic, violent jerks that sent convulsion through the frame. The rear of the car dipped slightly each time, suspension creaking under the force.
You kept kicking, even when the balls of your feet were giving out and even when your legs were begging you to stop. Your brain was pleading you to quit making a ruckus, your arms aching from keeping them in a folded position for hours. You started yelling as loud as you could, own voice ringing in your ears.
Your throat took the same damage as the rest of your body, it felt like. The car was rolling to a stop once you felt your throat be torn to shreds. You kept kicking and screaming, even when you felt the car come to a complete stop, even when you heard the car door open. Your fingers curled tighter on the keys, your eyes panicking for any sort of light that would make you act.
You wanted to catch him off guard— you didn't.
He clicked the trunk open, the lock resounded before you used your feet to shoot it open. He grabbed your ankle in a vice-like grip, dragging you closer to him. "Shut the fuck up." He growled, his tone was low and venomous against your ear, leaning down and closing the distance. This time you could see his entire face.
He leaned in closer and closer, it felt suffocating, and you couldn't even marvel at how handsome he was at the moment. Even though it heavily wandered in your head for a moment. His features were complimenting each other, angular, cast into harsh relief by the darkness. "Bold, really bold, psycho! Just take me home, and I won't say shit about you to anybody!"
"Aw, poor baby thought they can thrash their way out of this and that's all it takes. I don't fucking trust you for one second." He taunted, voice dripping with contempt. "Be good. I didn't cover your mouth for the sake of it being more humane, but that's my mistake for..." He didn't get to finish his complaint, because even though he expected you to completely throw a fit...he didn't expect you to be armed.
"Fuck you!" You put the rest of your reborn strength into your tied arms, and gave a single thrash at his face with the key you found, metal dragging through his flesh. He didn't cry out like you expected, but he did let go momentarily as he went to the new, pointed wound.
You bolted out that metaphorical open door like a new Mario Party was being released.
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taglist ♢ @kinvasions @kazumiku @animeobsessed56 @levianamor @auroratumbles
@mellowberrie @scarawiki
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estapa-edwards · 6 months
Text
i miss you, im sorry -- J.HUGHES
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paring: jack hughes x fem! reader
word count: 2.15k
requested? yes - could you do this prompt for “I never thought I could miss someone this much” for a guy of your choosing? :)
warnings: use of y/n.
Y/N had always been close friends with Luke Hughes. Their bond was unbreakable, forged through years of shared experiences, secrets, and laughter. When Luke invited Y/N to spend a summer at his family's lake house, she eagerly accepted.
As Y/N stepped out of Luke's car, she was immediately captivated by the serene beauty of the place. The air was filled with the scent of fresh pine and the sound of water gently lapping against the shore.
"Welcome to my favorite place in the world," Luke said with a smile, grabbing Y/N's bags from the trunk.
Y/N couldn't help but smile back, feeling grateful for the opportunity to spend time with her best friend and his family in such a picturesque setting. She was about to meet Luke's parents, Ellen and Jim Hughes, and she wanted to make a good impression. Luke had assured her that his parents were friendly and welcoming, but Y/N couldn't help but feel a little anxious.
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached, and the kitchen door swung open. In walked Ellen Hughes, a graceful woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. Following closely behind her was Jim Hughes, a tall man with a friendly demeanor and a strong resemblance to Luke.
"Good morning, Y/N," Ellen greeted, her voice cheerful and welcoming. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Luke has told us so much about you."
"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes," Y/N replied, standing up to shake their hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you for having me."
"Please, call us Ellen and Jim," Ellen said, her smile widening. "We're thrilled to have you here with us."
Jim nodded in agreement, extending a hand to Y/N. "It's great to meet the young woman who's been such a good friend to our Luke." Y/N felt herself relaxing, reassured by their warm welcome. They all sat down at the table, and Ellen began serving breakfast.
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The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake as Y/N decided to take a leisurely walk along the shoreline. Dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, she slipped on her sandals and stepped out of the cabin, breathing in the fresh, pine-scented air.
Meanwhile, Jack had decided to spend the afternoon fishing on the opposite side of the lake. He packed his fishing gear, grabbed a hat to shield his eyes from the sun, and headed out towards his favorite fishing spot.
As Y/N strolled along the lakeside path, enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the gentle rustling of the leaves, she was lost in her thoughts. She didn't notice the figure approaching from the other direction until it was almost too late.
Jack, engrossed in untangling his fishing line, also failed to see where he was going. The next moment, they collided, both letting out a surprised gasp as they stumbled back.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Y/N exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"No, it's my fault. I should have been paying more attention," Jack replied, looking up and meeting Y/N's eyes. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, captivated by Jack's warm, brown eyes and his disarming smile. She found herself smiling back, her initial embarrassment giving way to a sense of curiosity and excitement. I'm Jack," he introduced himself, extending a hand towards her.
"I'm Y/N," she replied, shaking his hand and feeling a tingling sensation run up her arm.
"Yeah, Luke's friend, right?" Jack said, his eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Yes, that's right," Y/N confirmed, her smile widening.
"I've heard a lot about you," Jack added, his tone warm and inviting.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of excitement. "Really? That's nice to hear," she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. 
As the summer went on, Y/N and Jack found themselves drawn to each other more and more. 
One evening, Y/N, Jack, Luke, and Quinn decided to have a movie night at the lake house. They gathered in the cozy living room, blankets and pillows strewn about, popcorn bowls at the ready, and the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable, filled with anticipation for a fun and enjoyable evening together.
"I think we should watch a classic like 'The Godfather' or 'Casablanca'," Luke suggested, walking over to the couch. "You can't beat the classics!"
Quinn, on the other hand, had a different idea. "How about  'Superbad' or 'Step Brothers'? We could all use a good laugh," he argued, trying to sway the group with his comedic choices.
Y/N, wanting to watch something more romantic and light-hearted, chimed in, "I was thinking more along the lines of 'The Notebook' or 'Pride and Prejudice'. Something romantic and uplifting would be nice."
Jack, wanting to watch an action-packed thriller, added his own suggestion to the mix. "What about like 'Inception' or 'The Dark Knight'? 
As the debate continued, the room grew tense and the voices louder. Each person passionately defended their movie choice, and it became clear that a compromise would not be easily reached.
"Why does it always have to be your choice, Luke?" Quinn argued, rolling his eyes. "Not everyone wants to watch a black and white movie from the 1940s!"
"Well, not everyone wants to watch some mindless comedy that's only good for cheap laughs," Luke retorted, his frustration evident.
Y/N tried to mediate, suggesting a compromise. "How about we take turns picking the movie? That way, everyone gets a chance to watch something they like."
Jack, however, was not satisfied with the suggestion. "That's not fair," he protested
"Jack, it is fair," Y/N responded, her voice firm and assertive. "But since I'm the guest, I choose the movie."
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N grinned and announced her decision, "We're watching 'Dirty Dancing'!"
She laughed at the collective groan of disappointment that echoed through the room
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As the opening credits of "Dirty Dancing" rolled on the screen, filling the room with the iconic music that everyone knew and loved, the tension from the earlier argument began to fade away. The group settled in, each finding a comfortable spot on the couch with blankets and pillows, ready to enjoy the movie.
As the movie progressed, Jack found himself increasingly drawn to Y/N. The familiar storyline and romantic dance scenes seemed to create a perfect backdrop for a blossoming connection. Subtly, he began to inch closer to her, shifting his position on the couch to close the distance between them.
At first, Y/N didn't think much of it, attributing Jack's movement to the shifting dynamics of the group as they got more comfortable. However, as she felt his arm brush against hers and noticed him subtly closing the gap between them, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.
Y/N's hand rested in her lap, and she could feel Jack's fingers slightly grazing it as he moved closer. The gentle touch sent a thrill through her, and she became increasingly aware of his presence beside her. The warmth of his body, the subtle scent of his cologne, and the tantalizing sensation of his fingers brushing against her hand were all intoxicating.  
A few nights later, Y/N and Jack decided to go out for a night at a local bar near the lake house. The atmosphere was lively, with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The dim lighting and rustic décor created a cozy and inviting ambiance, making it the perfect spot for a relaxed evening out.
As the evening progressed, Y/N and Jack found themselves enjoying each other's company, laughing and chatting over drinks. The connection between them was undeniable, and the chemistry was palpable.
However, as the night wore on, a group of guys at the bar began to take notice of Y/N. One of them, a tall and confident-looking man, approached Y/N with a smug grin on his face.
"Hey there, beautiful," he said, leaning in a little too close for comfort. "How about a drink?"
Y/N, feeling uncomfortable but trying to remain polite, declined his offer. "No, thank you. I'm here with someone."
Ignoring her response, the man continued to press, his persistence becoming increasingly annoying. "Come on, don't be like that. You don't want to spend the night with this guy, do you?" he said, nodding towards Jack with a dismissive smirk.
Jack, who had been watching the exchange with growing irritation, felt his patience wearing thin. He didn't appreciate the man's disrespectful attitude towards Y/N, and he wasn't about to let it slide.
Stepping in between Y/N and the persistent suitor, Jack glared at the man, his voice dripping with warning. "She said she's not interested. Back off." The man, clearly not used to being challenged, scoffed at Jack. "Who do you think you are?" he retorted, puffing out his chest in a display of bravado.
Without another word, the situation escalated quickly. Jack, fueled by a mix of protective instinct and annoyance, threw a punch, and a brief scuffle ensued. The bar's security quickly intervened, breaking up the altercation and escorting the instigator and his friends out of the bar.
Breathing heavily, Jack turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mix of adrenaline and concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with regret for letting things get out of hand. I'm okay," she reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. 
Upon arriving back at the lake house, Y/N led Jack to the bathroom to clean up the small cuts and bruises on his face from the fight. The dim light in the bathroom cast a soft glow, illuminating the concern in Y/N's eyes as she gently examined Jack's face.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Y/N said softly, her voice filled with care and tenderness.
Jack nodded, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as Y/N wet a washcloth with warm water and began to gently dab at the cuts and abrasions on his face. Her touch was gentle and soothing, and Jack found himself relaxing under her tender care.
Y/N's hands were gentle and careful as she cleaned the small cuts, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with a delicate touch. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, and the closeness between them was undeniable.
Jack watched Y/N as she focused on cleaning his wounds, her expression one of genuine concern and care. He was touched by her kindness and the tenderness of her touch, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence and the comfort she provided.
As Y/N finished cleaning up the last of the cuts, she looked up at Jack, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of concern and affection. "There, all done," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance. 
 "Thank you," Jack responded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him.
Seizing the moment, Jack leaned in closer to Y/N, his eyes searching hers for a sign of acceptance. The atmosphere in the bathroom was charged with tension and unspoken feelings, the intimacy of the moment palpable.
Y/N's heart raced as she felt Jack's closeness, her breath catching in her throat as she anticipated his next move. The connection between them was undeniable, and the magnetic pull was too strong to resist.
Closing the distance between them, Jack pressed his lips gently against Y/N's, their kiss tender and full of emotion. Time seemed to stand still as they shared a moment of intimacy and connection, the world around them fading away as they lost themselves in each other. 
"Y/N, we are ready to board the plane," a voice called out, pulling Y/N out of her daydream.
She blinked, her thoughts still lingering on the summer she had spent with Jack at the lake house. The memories were vivid and bittersweet, a reminder of the deep connection they had shared and the love that had blossomed between them. "Y/N, we are ready to board the plane," a voice called out, pulling Y/N out of her daydream.
Y/N settled into her airplane seat, staring out of the window as the world below became smaller and smaller. The memories of the summer with Jack continued to flood her mind, and a deep sense of longing and nostalgia washed over her.
"I never knew I could miss somebody this much," Y/N thought to herself, her heart aching with the realization.  She went to put her phone on airplane mode, when she saw a text from jack. “I miss you.”
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i might do a part two!!
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ghoulie-67-baby · 1 year
Text
One too many mistakes- Criminal minds.
Summary: You’re a member of the BAU and have been captured by the unsub. You know they’ll save you but you have to be patient.
Prompts: You escape captivity and start running, only to run into your saviour.
Warnings: Blood, mentions of murder, kidnapping, language, crying, vomiting.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader.
Word count: 1,068.
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"You're sick." I spat up at the unsub, my hands aching from being tied up. "Why do you do this?" I watched as his chapped lips curled into a sickening grin, revealing rotted teeth and the stench of blood on his breath.
"Maybe I am sick, maybe I'm the normal one." He shrugged, attacking a tube to the cannula in my arm. "Either way I enjoy it." My eyes widened at the horrifying chuckle that filled the room. Silence overcame us as he fiddled with his equipment. I knew what would happen soon enough. He would collect as much of my blood as he wanted, drink it, and repeat for a few days. When he wanted fresh blood he would dump my body just like with all the other women. Two nights had already passed and I knew my time was limited.
"Rest now sweet pet, ill be back soon." My body slid down the wall as I feigned exhaustion.
A few hours had passed since he left and I had been working hard to escape the ropes. I just about managed to fray the one around my ankles using a nail sticking through the floorboard. My hands shook in my lap, the locks on the door echoing through the room. With my head hanging, I faked sleep, holding back a grin when he left the door wide open.
'That's your first mistake asshole.' The thought made me shiver with anticipation but I waited patiently, knowing timing was imperative. Once he turned back around, I readied myself. His second mistake.
Scrambling to my feet, I yanked my arms from the cannulas and sprinted for the door, not giving him the chance to react.
Pains seared through my limbs as they screamed in protest. The ground was uneven and the lack of light from the dense foliage proved it more difficult to guide myself. Heavy boot falls sounded from behind me as he began the chase. Using tree trunks and bushes as cover, I hid myself and tried to figure out my direction.
"You bitch!" I could tell he was stalking closer, his voice getting louder. Taking an unsteady breath, I stumbled through the threes, trying to ignore the dizziness clouding my head. "You can't run forever!" He was right, especially with the state I was in, but I'd give it a damn good go if it meant a better chance of surviving.
"I can hear you," he sang into the darkness, his sickening grin flashing through my head. "I can smell you, almost taste you. All that fresh blood going to waste." My heart raced in my chest, cementing my fear that he could actually hear it.
Tears clouded my vision as I staggered through branches and rotting leaves. The tree roots seemed to latch onto my feet as I ran, making me trip and struggle for balance. With my captor's voice converging on me and my senses overtaken by panic and pain I didn't notice the figures ahead of me.
The howl of a dog broke me from my panicked stupor and I fell back, eyes wide and blurry as the animal barked at me.
"Y/N?" A figure called my name and I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my bound palms. They focused a little better, revealing the angry face of Hotch and the concern and relief of my team. My body flooded with relief as my knees shook, teeth chattering in the autumn air. "Hey, you're okay. Y/N walk to me."
I followed the voice, tears streaming down my face as I tried to stay on my feet. My face came into contact with a bulletproof vest but from the cologne, I could tell it was Hotch. Seconds passed before he pulled away from me, hands holding my elbows as his eyes inspected me for injuries. My bound wrists pressed against his chest as his eyes rested on the bleeding wounds on my arms.
"Tell me sweet pet," the yelling made my head snap up as Hotch untied the rope from my sore wrists. "How close am I? Close enough to taste you yet?" A shiver passed up my spine as I gripped my boss's sleeves, tears still falling as the team moved to shield me.
"He won't touch you again, we won't let him." I faced the direction of the voice, hands clutching Aaron's behind my back as the grimy man came into view.
"Tut tut sweet pet, thought we were exclusive?" Hotch's hands flinched slightly as I shook. Third mistake.
"You can't go anywhere now, man, put down the weapon." Morgan's voice was hard and tense as agents surrounded the unsub. "Put it down!". His eyes stayed locked on mine as he put his shotgun down, a sick smile on his face, and knelt amongst the autumn leaves.
The agents closed in quickly, Morgan snapped cuffs on him before hauling him to his feet. I motioned for him to bring him over.
"Why?" My voice shook no matter how hard I tried to keep it steady. "Why did you really do it?"
"I already told you pet," he leant closer, ignoring Morgan's pull. "Because I enjoy it." With a wave of demented laughter, he was dragged off, laughter mixing with Morgan's commands.
what little colour was in my face drained as I doubled over, hurling up the bile in my empty stomach.
"I've got you. JJ, alert the medics." My hair was gathered back as I heaved what little I could, retches shaking my body.
"M'sorry didn't mean to do that." I chuckled weakly, not even trying to make it sound real as I dragged myself upright. Aaron shook his head, wrapping his jacket around me before guiding me out of the forest, the flash of the ambulance calling my name.
"Don't apologise. I'm just sorry we weren't here sooner. He didn't do anything else did he?" He trailed off, not wanting to imagine what else that monster could do.
"No, he didn't do anything else, just the blood. I'll never look at a doctor the same way ever again." I sighed, sitting on the ambulance step, moving so he could sit with me. "You were here in time, that's all that matters."
Resting my heavy head on his shoulder, exhaustion stopped me from caring that he was my boss, let alone closed off. Instead, I chose to revel in his warmth.
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paladin--strait · 1 month
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Congrats on 100 babe 🫶!! Can I request prompt 19 - reader brings cookies or cupcakes for players team after a huge win (athletes only) with jack hughes?
so cute!!! i love this prompt with jack ❤️
-
after the game ended, i immediately ran out to my car where the cupcakes are packed and placed neatly in the trunk. i brought the little cart with me and loaded the small treat boxes onto it, walking quickly into the hallway that the leads to the arena after i lock my car.
there's a huge grin on my face as i near the locker room. i pass a couple staff members and hand them their own little box with the freshly made treats inside.
the security checks the locker room to make sure the boys are still clothed before i walk in and that everyone is inside the large, messy room. i wheel in the cart after i get the okay and i run to jack, leaving the cart behind me, congratulating him on his huge win and the goal he got.
he smiles when he catches me in a hug, his sweaty hair falling onto my shoulder. i hear him laughing, and he kisses me on the lips with a quick thank you. "thank you baby! what's on the cart?" he points at it, and i suddenly remember all the boxed treats.
"oh! i brought you guys something!" my words that raised in volume caught the attention of the players and coaches. "i brought you all some treats!!" i walk over to the cart and grab a box. they're all named, since the goodies inside are customized to each players liking.
"nico and timo? i have your boxes!" both nico and timo practically run over to me, smiling and giving me a thank you hug as they take their boxes. "uhh...dawson and jesper?" they come over too, and all the boxes are eventually passed out, except for my two favorite devils players.
"luke and jack?" i turn and look at the two brothers with a big smile. they walk over together, chatting for a second before taking their boxes as well. luke gives me a big, long, thank you hug and tells me a quick i love you. jack gives me a kiss, along with a quick thank you and i love you also.
once i turn around to look at all the players and coaches, they're all digging into the boxes of yummy desserts, some of them looking like their about to go into a sugar crash or food coma. i look at nico, who's head is tilted back in bliss and his jaw is chomping down on a soft sugar cookie, one of his favorite treats that i've made, he's expressed to me how much he loves them multiple times, so i wrote it down in my notebook.
over a long time of baking and selling goods, i began to keep a journal of certain people's favorite things that i make. i have my family's favorite things, the hughes family's favorite things, the devils team, the canucks team, the umich team and even some of jack's friends like trevor and jamie.
i smile as i watch them enjoy the food. it's always made me happy to see people enjoy the desserts i make, especially people that i love so dearly. i rarely make batches of goodies like this, but the boys have worked so hard this season and they deserve a treat. luke is eating a no bake chocolate oatmeal cookie, one of his all time favorites, timo is eating the same cookie and dawson is eating a classic gingerbread cookie.
jack is chowing down on a carrot cake cupcake, smiling at me as we make eye contact. he holds the cupcake out to me, and i take a bite. i chew my bite of jack's cupcake, savoring the moist cake and delicious frosting. i'm never one to talk about how good my desserts are, but damn, i'm a good baker. i smile and giggle when i see the amount of frosting on coach keefe's face from his red velvet cupcake he's eating. he's really enjoying that cupcake, i think to myself.
moments like these with the team are my favorites. we're all together, enjoying the moment of happiness while we celebrate a huge win. we're definitely all going out for drinks later, but i know the night will be cut short for me and jack, since he always is super tired after playing for longer than usual, which he did tonight.
-
once we reach the doorway to the quiet, dark, and cold apartment, jack and i take our shoes off by the door, walking to the bedroom. i flop down on the bed, groaning from how tired my body is, and i look up to see jack changing into his sleep pants, i decide that i should probably change too, so i stand and take my clothes from the game off, my 'hughes 86' jersey coming off and getting put into the hamper alongside my pants and bra.
i hear jack grunt when his body hits the bed, i finish taking off my makeup and make my way to bed, cuddling up to jack almost immediately. i hum into his chest, tracing shapes onto his back. "thank you for making all those things for my teammates, you really didn't have to do all that. but, i'm glad you did. they really love you, not just because of how good your desserts are, but because of how caring you are for them. they wouldn't shut up about how good it was and everyone told me to tell you thank you."
i smile at his words, "i love them too. i know how hard you boys have been working and you all deserve to know that people care about you guys and not just about the game and i know all the fans are thankful for all you guys do, so i decided to make all that stuff for you guys. i'm glad they appreciated it, too!" i play with his hair as i speak, messing it up and putting it in various little styles.
we chat more about the game before jack turns his alarm on so he can get up for morning skate in the early hours of the next morning and i cut off the light, darkening the room except for the light coming off the tv and the light from jack's phone. i smile when i see him scrolling through instagram, seeing where reporters had made various articles about the boys who talked about getting the delicious treats from me after being asked about the goodie boxes that were sitting beside them.
jack smiles and likes the article, shutting his phone off and putting it on charge. i he turns to look at me and grabs my waist, pulling me closer to him and kissing my jaw, down my neck and along my shoulder. i giggle when he kisses my neck, i've always been ticklish there and he knows it.
the cold breeze from the air conditioning hits us, and we cuddle closer to each other, both to lazy to get up and mess with the ac unit this late in the night. we fall asleep in each others arms, the faint smell of alcohol coming off of us from our celebratory drinks at the bar. but that doesn't bother either of us, we just enjoy each others time, sleeping peacefully in each others arms.
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staylovesmiley · 1 month
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request 👉👈: Han as a pirate crew member falls in love with The captain's (Chans) younger sister(also a crew member,doctor of the ship)and how they sneak around chan to see eachother, tooth rotting fluff
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(please)
author’s note; I really hope I did your request justice~ I know you said tooth rotting fluff but I couldn’t help but thrown in some angst near the end with this prompt hehe-
If you want to be tagged in any future skz reqs or reqs of other groups I write for pls see here
ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Han Jisung x Female!Reader
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; fluff, angst, reader is Chan’s little sister, implied sexual relationship between reader and Han, fluff could have been more tooth rotting pls forgive me-, threats of s*icide (kind of? Putting this here just in case), illness, and murderous Chan oops-
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Neither of them had intended for things to end up like this, but neither could be truly saddened by the out either.
It started as just him being clumsy, the raven haired man often ending up in the little room she used to treat the crew of various injuries and ailments.
Y/n, ever the diligent doctor, though she only achieved the title since the man she was under apprenticeship with had fallen ill himself and succumb to the sickness while they were still at sea. Her brother wasn’t so fond of the idea of putting her in a position where she was at risk of the same fate treating the sick constantly, but she had insisted that this was her way of being able to contribute more to the crew and after weeks of pleading with the captain he finally allowed it.
Ah yes, Captain Bang’s little sister. She had joined the crew along with her brother under the previous captain’s charge as they were orphans. When the old man finally kicked the bucket and handed over the title to the young Christopher Bang, he had half a mind to drop his beloved little sister off at a convent where she would be safe away from the life of pirating they had always known, but upon seeing her tearful eyes at the thought of being separated from him he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
She was the only woman on board, and the first thing the young captain would tell anyone who set foot on his ship was that she was off limits. No one was to make a pass at her, one lingering glance and your eyes would be gouged out he would say with a smirk that let you think he was merely teasing though the look in his eyes said he was serious.
Han Jisung had no intentions of falling for her, though he had always found her beauty to rival that of the finest jewels, he knew better than to enter those waters under the heavily watchful eye of her older brother, his captain.
But one day after he had cut his palm something nasty while helping out in the kitchens he had been escorted to where the young maiden did her duties. She had welcomed him in with a smile like sunshine and a voice so soft it felt like he was dreaming. Gentle hands worked on his wounds carefully as she kept up small talk to distract the pirate.
It wasn’t the first time he would find himself being tended to by her delicate hands, he was just so clumsy after all.
From a sprained ankle or wrist to splinters or even a mild concussion at one point, y/n took care of it all with a warm smile and gentle care as to not harm him any further.
“You know, I’m beginning to think you just want an excuse to come and see me.” She teased one evening after the crew had all gone to sleep and the raven haired man ended up knocking on the door to her private quarters with a mild case of sea sickness. “Would that…would it be so wrong of me to admit that it could be the case?” He spoke just above a whisper as she looked through a trunk for something to soothe his sore stomach.
Her hands froze on the bottle of tonic. “Is that so?” She said softly, slowly moving back over to the young pirate with the bottle after a moment to regain her composure and attempt to mask the glee she felt at his confession. “And if it is?” His eyes locked with hers, hand moving to grip her wrist lightly where she held the bottle up to his lips. “A-A sip of this should help calm your-“ before she could finish her instructions, Jisung had moved the tonic away and brought his free hand to cup her cheek gently.
“H-Han we can’t-“ she spoke softly, eyes wide as she knew how protective her brother could be. “Just once, please y/n…just one kiss is all I ask.” Her resolve withered rapidly as soft brown eyes gazed deeply into her own, filled with desire and longing she had never witnessed before but had always craved. Silently she nodded in acceptance, letting him pull her to him slowly until their lips brushed against each other softly.
Her breath hitched in her throat at the contact, though it was barely there, and she took the initiative to close the rest of the distance and press her lips to his firmly. It was a bit clumsy, laced with inexperience as neither party had ever shared a kiss with anyone before, but it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted in either of their chests as her hands found their way to play with the hairs at the back of his neck and his fell to rest gently on her waist.
Once they pulled away for air, a silent promise was muttered that they would never speak of this to another soul, and that was how it began.
It continued just the same, mysterious ailments and injuries plaguing the young crew mate and causing him to have to visit the young physician often. Because of his clumsy and over exaggerated nature no one seemed to be the wiser to the truth of their meetings.
That was until one afternoon while working in the kitchen, first mate Lee Minho happened to slip and land awfully on his hip causing it to pop out of place. He limped his way to y/n’s little office on the ship, stubbornly refusing the help of the crew to get there and when he pushed open the door he was glad it was only he who was there to witness what was behind it.
There, on the cot she laid underneath one of the crew, someone he considered closest to him, Han Jisung. The two of them had pulled away from each other at the sound but it was obvious by the way his shirt was untucked and the first few buttons on her blouse were undone what the situation had been.
Y/n sat up so quickly she almost bumped heads with the man on top of her, the both of them scrambling away from each other and frantically trying to explain away what he had witnessed. “Save it, I saw nothing here. Now, miss y/n, please assist me in getting my hip back into place?” Minho closed the door behind him, moving to lean against the small desk in the room as both Jisung and Y/n looked from the intruder to each other. “Well- I don’t have all day and I’m in an awful lot of pain standing here.”
As if snapped back to reality she went into action, helping her brother’s first mate get his joints sorted before giving him something for the pain. “Please get some rest, Minho.” She spoke softly, giving him an anxious smile. “I will, and you need to learn to be more careful…had it been anyone else that walked through that door and this would have been a different story.” With wide eyes the couple nodded in understanding and Han moved to help the elder crew mate out of the office and back to the bunk room below.
They continued like that for months, meeting now under the security of moonlight while the rest of the ship was deep in slumber, the pair would lay together in her private quarters on the other side of the ship from the captain and crew. As the pale light shown through the single window down onto their naked forms, Jisung would trace slow shapes on her skin as they spoke of what life could be like if they didn’t have to hide their love. Jisung always made sure to leave just before she drifted asleep, whispering apologies and how he wished he could stay till morning but unless they wanted to be found out he needed to return below deck to the rest of the crew before they woke for the morning chores.
Just as autumn began, a chill settling in the salty sea air, the crew began to fall ill one by one. A fever would settle into their bones and though most recovered after a week or so of care and rest, there were few fatalities among them that had those fortunate enough to not fall ill hoping and praying that it wouldn’t be them next.
Y/n was in her office, taking stock of her supplies as she heard the door swing open and yet another sick crew mate dropped onto the cot in the corner of the room. As she stood to make her way over and examine the pirate, her movements froze upon seeing the identity of her newest patient. Her lover, Han Jisung, lay clammy and shivering on the cot and her hand flew to cover her mouth with a gasp.
Minho and another crew mate, Seo Changbin, had brought him there and while Changbin regarded her reaction curiously, Minho sent her a look that told her she had better compose herself and do her job. Y/n quickly covered the lower part of her face with her handkerchief and tied it into place before getting to work.
She had Minho boil a pot of water and once it was brought to her she worked to calm the chills that wracked the body in front of her, administering some of the medicine that had seemed to help those of the crew who had recovered. Working late into the night, y/n tried her dammdest to bring Jisung’s fever down but to no avail.
As the days went on and he didn’t seem to be getting any better, Captain Bang found his sister waiting for him in his cabin on morning with fear and desperation evident in her expression. “Brother, please…can we dock at the nearest town so that I can find him a doctor- a real doctor, please.” She begged, clutching onto his forearm tightly as she looked into his eyes with her own full of sadness he hadn’t seen there since when he had threatened to separate from her all those years ago.
Shaking his head, he was firm in his decision. “You know I can’t do that, y/n. That town isn’t very keen on pirates and we are likely to be captured the second we are within their waters.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued to plead with the captain, suspicion beginning to rise in her brother at the rate of her desperation.
“Over the course of this illness you haven’t once begged for the life of another crew mate like this. Pray tell, what is so special about Han Jisung?” He tone was taunting and cold, his dismissive demeanor causing desperation and fear for the wellbeing of her lover to boil into anger and frustration at being disregarded by her older brother. “We have a strong crew still, if he is to perish then we will mourn him but it is just the way of our life.” With a wave of his hand he motioned for her to leave and drop the subject and the motion seemed to snap something within her.
“His life be meaningless to you but he is all I hold dear in this world, brother- please.” This seemed to pique his interest and he turned to face her once again. “Y/n what are you saying…” With a new set determination and anger coursing through her she stood her ground. “Christopher I am telling you that I love him.”
The captain only let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. “So the rumors I have heard are true, is that we’re he has been sneaking off to in the evenings? Several crew members have reported him absent at bunk checks several nights now…he’s been going to meet with you, hasn’t he?” Taking a deep breath, now seeing the rage in her brothers eyes at the blatant disregard for the rules he had set in place as captain, she regretted admitting her feelings to him.
“If this is true then he’d better pray the illness takes him before I can get my hands on him.” He said lowly while staring towards the door as if his gaze could pierce through the wood and across the ship to set the sick man ablaze in the bed he rest in. “Christopher please- I’m a grown woman. I know you care for me but if you wish to show me that you will spare him.”
Christopher only shook his head, grabbing one of his pistols from his desk before making his way to the door. “Better to put him out of his misery now and spare anyone else from catching his fever.” Y/n eyes widened and she began pulling frantically at her brothers arms and coat. “Christopher please! Please don’t do this-“ fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she used all the strength she could muster to stop him. “If you end his life I- I will go overboard. I’d rather be without life than without my beloved!” Her screams halted him where his hand pulled at the door.
At the realization that she was serious, seeing the fire burning in her eyes he sighed, running his free hand through his curly dark brown hair before going to set his pistol back on his desk. “I can’t dock at the next town, I’m sorry. You’ll have to pray he makes it through without.”
Nodding, y/n would accept this now if it was only a small victory to spare the life of the one she held dear from certain death as now it was all she could control before making her way back to the office to check on his condition.
It was a long week of praying and working throughout the night to keep his fever under control but all the lack of sleep she received during was made worth it when the fever finally broke and Jisung recovered well, as if the secret of their love was what was holding him back from healing, plaguing the both of their souls and preventing treatment from being effective.
As he fully regained consciousness, y/n explained to him what had happened, tears rolling down her cheeks as she recalled how terrifying her brother had been in that moment and how horribly she had feared for his life.
“Hey, y/n, my love….it’s over, I’m not going anywhere.” His soft, heart shaped smile seemed to calm her instantly and she quickly launched herself at the pirate causing laughter to erupt from his chest as he held onto her tightly. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you…” she mumbled into his chest as she clung to him tightly, as if he would disappear should she let go. “Like I said…I’m not going anywhere.”
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